johns hopkins university studies in historical and political science herbert b. adams, editor history is past politics and politics present history.--freeman ninth series xi-xii the character and influence of the indian trade in wisconsin _a study of the trading post as an institution_ by frederick j. turner, ph.d. _professor of history, university of wisconsin_ baltimore the johns hopkins press published monthly november and december, copyright, , by n. murray. isaac friedenwald co., printers, baltimore. table of contents. page. i. introduction ii. primitive inter-tribal trade iii. place of the indian trade in the settlement of america . early trade along the atlantic coast . in new england . in the middle region . in the south . in the far west iv. the river and lake systems of the northwest v. wisconsin indians vi. periods of the wisconsin indian trade vii. french exploration in wisconsin viii. french posts in wisconsin ix. the fox wars x. french settlement in wisconsin xi. the traders' struggle to retain their trade xii. the english and the northwest. influence of the indian trade on diplomacy xiii. the northwest company xiv. american influences xv. government trading houses xvi. wisconsin trade in xvii. effects of the trading post the character and influence of the indian trade in wisconsin. introduction.[ ] the trading post is an old and influential institution. established in the midst of an undeveloped society by a more advanced people, it is a center not only of new economic influences, but also of all the transforming forces that accompany the intercourse of a higher with a lower civilization. the phoenicians developed the institution into a great historic agency. closely associated with piracy at first, their commerce gradually freed itself from this and spread throughout the mediterranean lands. a passage in the odyssey (book xv.) enables us to trace the genesis of the phoenician trading post: "thither came the phoenicians, mariners renowned, greedy merchant-men with countless trinkets in a black ship.... they abode among us a whole year, and got together much wealth in their hollow ship. and when their hollow ship was now laden to depart, they sent a messenger.... there came a man versed in craft to my father's house with a golden chain strung here and there with amber beads. now, the maidens in the hall and my lady mother were handling the chain and gazing on it and offering him their price." it would appear that the traders at first sailed from port to port, bartering as they went. after a time they stayed at certain profitable places a twelvemonth, still trading from their ships. then came the fixed factory, and about it grew the trading colony.[ ] the phoenician trading post wove together the fabric of oriental civilization, brought arts and the alphabet to greece, brought the elements of civilization to northern africa, and disseminated eastern culture through the mediterranean system of lands. it blended races and customs, developed commercial confidence, fostered the custom of depending on outside nations for certain supplies, and afforded a means of peaceful intercourse between societies naturally hostile. carthaginian, greek, etruscan and roman trading posts continued the process. by traffic in amber, tin, furs, etc., with the tribes of the north of europe, a continental commerce was developed. the routes of this trade have been ascertained.[ ] for over a thousand years before the migration of the peoples mediterranean commerce had flowed along the interlacing river valleys of europe, and trading posts had been established. museums show how important an effect was produced upon the economic life of northern europe by this intercourse. it is a significant fact that the routes of the migration of the peoples were to a considerable extent the routes of roman trade, and it is well worth inquiry whether this commerce did not leave more traces upon teutonic society than we have heretofore considered, and whether one cause of the migrations of the peoples has not been neglected.[ ] that stage in the development of society when a primitive people comes into contact with a more advanced people deserves more study than has been given to it. as a factor in breaking the "cake of custom" the meeting of two such societies is of great importance; and if, with starcke,[ ] we trace the origin of the family to economic considerations, and, with schrader,[ ] the institution of guest friendship to the same source, we may certainly expect to find important influences upon primitive society arising from commerce with a higher people. the extent to which such commerce has affected all peoples is remarkable. one may study the process from the days of phoenicia to the days of england in africa,[ ] but nowhere is the material more abundant than in the history of the relations of the europeans and the american indians. the phoenician factory, it is true, fostered the development of the mediterranean civilization, while in america the trading post exploited the natives. the explanation of this difference is to be sought partly in race differences, partly in the greater gulf that separated the civilization of the european from the civilization of the american indian as compared with that which parted the early greeks and the phoenicians. but the study of the destructive effect of the trading post is valuable as well as the study of its elevating influences; in both cases the effects are important and worth investigation and comparison. footnotes: [footnote : in this paper i have rewritten and enlarged an address before the state historical society of wisconsin on the character and influence of the fur trade in wisconsin, published in the proceedings of the thirty-sixth annual meeting, . i am under obligations to mr. reuben g. thwaites, secretary of this society, for his generous assistance in procuring material for my work, and to professor charles h. haskins, my colleague, who kindly read both manuscript and proof and made helpful suggestions. the reader will notice that throughout the paper i have used the word _northwest_ in a limited sense as referring to the region included between the great lakes and the ohio and mississippi rivers.] [footnote : on the trading colony, see roscher und jannasch, colonien, p. .] [footnote : consult: müllenhoff, altertumskunde i., ; schrader, prehistoric antiquities of the aryan peoples, new york, , pp. ff.; pliny, naturalis historia, xxvii., ; montelius, civilization of sweden in heathen times, - ; du chaillu, viking age; and the citations in dawkins, early man in britain, - ; keary, vikings in western christendom, .] [footnote : in illustration it may be noted that the early scandinavian power in russia seized upon the trade route by the dnieper and the duna. keary, vikings, . see also _post_, pp. , .] [footnote : starcke, primitive family.] [footnote : schrader, l.c.; see also ihring, in _deutsche rundschau_, iii., , ; kulischer, der handel auf primitiven kulturstufen, in _zeitschrift für völkerpsychologie und sprachwissenschaft_, x., . _vide post_, p. .] [footnote : w. bosworth smith, in a suggestive article in the _nineteenth century_, december, , shows the influence of the mohammedan trade in africa.] primitive inter-tribal trade. long before the advent of the white trader, inter-tribal commercial intercourse existed. mr. charles rau[ ] and sir daniel wilson[ ] have shown that inter-tribal trade and division of labor were common among the mound-builders and in the stone age generally. in historic times there is ample evidence of inter-tribal trade. were positive evidence lacking, indian institutions would disclose the fact. differences in language were obviated by the sign language,[ ] a fixed system of communication, intelligible to all the western tribes at least. the peace pipe,[ ] or calumet, was used for settling disputes, strengthening alliances, and speaking to strangers--a sanctity attached to it. wampum belts served in new england and the middle region as money and as symbols in the ratification of treaties.[ ] the chippeways had an institution called by a term signifying "to enter one another's lodges,"[ ] whereby a truce was made between them and the sioux at the winter hunting season. during these seasons of peace it was not uncommon for a member of one tribe to adopt a member of another as his brother, a tie which was respected even after the expiration of the truce. the analogy of this custom to the classical "guest-friendship" needs no comment; and the economic cause of the institution is worth remark, as one of the means by which the rigor of primitive inter-tribal hostility was mitigated. but it is not necessary to depend upon indirect evidence. the earliest travellers testify to the existence of a wide inter-tribal commerce. the historians of de soto's expedition mention indian merchants who sold salt to the inland tribes. "in and for some years previous bison skins were brought by the indians down the potomac, and thence carried along-shore in canoes to the french about the gulf of st. lawrence. during two years six thousand skins were thus obtained."[ ] an algonquin brought to champlain at quebec a piece of copper a foot long, which he said came from a tributary of the great lakes.[ ] champlain also reports that among the canadian indians village councils were held to determine what number of men might go to trade with other tribes in the summer.[ ] morton in describes similar inter-tribal trade in new england, and adds that certain utensils are "but in certain parts of the country made, where the severall trades are appropriated to the inhabitants of those parts onely."[ ] marquette relates that the illinois bought firearms of the indians who traded directly with the french, and that they went to the south and west to carry off slaves, which they sold at a high price to other nations.[ ] it was on the foundation, therefore, of an extensive inter-tribal trade that the white man built up the forest commerce.[ ] footnotes: [footnote : smithsonian report, .] [footnote : transactions of the royal society of canada, , vii., . see also thruston, antiquities of tennessee, ff.] [footnote : mallery, in bureau of ethnology, i., ; clark, indian sign language.] [footnote : shea, discovery of the mississippi, . catilinite pipes were widely used, even along the atlantic slope, thruston, - .] [footnote : weeden, economic and social history of new england, i., ch. ii.] [footnote : minnesota historical collections, v., .] [footnote : parkman, pioneers of france in the new world, , citing menendez.] [footnote : neill, in narrative and critical history of america, iv., .] [footnote : champlain's voyages (prince society), iii., .] [footnote : morton, new english canaan (prince society), .] [footnote : shea, discovery and exploration of the mississippi valley, .] [footnote : for additional evidence see radisson, voyages (prince society), , ; massachusetts historical collections, i., ; smithsonian contributions, xvi., ; jesuit relations, , ; thruston, antiquities, etc., - ; carr, mounds of the mississippi valley, , ; and _post_ pp. - , .] early trade along the atlantic coast. the chroniclers of the earliest voyages to the atlantic coast abound in references to this traffic. first of europeans to purchase native furs in america appear to have been the norsemen who settled vinland. in the saga of eric the red[ ] we find this interesting account: "thereupon karlsefni and his people displayed their shields, and when they came together they began to barter with each other. especially did the strangers wish to buy red cloth, for which they offered in exchange peltries and quite grey skins. they also desired to buy swords and spears, but karlsefni and snorri forbade this. in exchange for perfect unsullied skins the skrellings would take red stuff a span in length, which they would bind around their heads. so their trade went on for a time, until karlsefni and his people began to grow short of cloth, when they divided it into such narrow pieces that it was not more than a finger's breadth wide, but the skrellings still continued to give just as much for this as before, or more."[ ] the account of verrazano's voyage mentions his indian trade. captain john smith, exploring new england in , brought back a cargo of fish and , beaver skins.[ ] these examples could be multiplied; in short, a way was prepared for colonization by the creation of a demand for european goods, and thus the opportunity for a lodgement was afforded. footnotes: [footnote : reeves, finding of wineland the good, .] [footnote : n.y. hist. colls., i., - , .] [footnote : smith, generall historie (richmond, ), i., - , , ; strachey's travaile into virginia, (hakluyt soc. vi.); parkman, pioneers, .] new england indian trade. the indian trade has a place in the early history of the new england colonies. the plymouth settlers "found divers corn fields and little running brooks, a place ... fit for situation,"[ ] and settled down cuckoo-like in indian clearings. mr. weeden has shown that the indian trade furnished a currency (wampum) to new england, and that it afforded the beginnings of her commerce. in september of their first year the plymouth men sent out a shallop to trade with the indians, and when a ship arrived from england in they speedily loaded her with a return cargo of beaver and lumber.[ ] by frequent legislation the colonies regulated and fostered the trade.[ ] bradford reports that in a single year twenty hhd. of furs were shipped from plymouth, and that between and their shipments amounted to , _li_. beaver and _li_. otter.[ ] morton in his 'new english canaan' alleges that a servant of his was "thought to have a thousand pounds in ready gold gotten by the beaver when he died."[ ] in the pursuit of this trade men passed continually farther into the wilderness, and their trading posts "generally became the pioneers of new settlements."[ ] for example, the posts of oldham, a puritan trader, led the way for the settlements on the connecticut river,[ ] and in their early days these towns were partly sustained by the indian trade.[ ] not only did the new england traders expel the dutch from this valley; they contended with them on the hudson.[ ] footnotes: [footnote : bradford, plymouth plantation.] [footnote : bradford, .] [footnote : _e.g._, plymouth records, i., , , , ; ii., ; massachusetts colonial records, i., , , , , ; ii., , ; iii., ; v., ; hazard, historical collections, ii., (the commissioners of the united colonies propose giving the monopoly of the fur trade to a corporation). on public truck-houses, _vide post_, p. .] [footnote : bradford, , gives the proceeds of the sale of these furs.] [footnote : force, collections, vol. i., no. , p. .] [footnote : weeden, i., , - .] [footnote : winthrop, history of new england, i., , .] [footnote : connecticut colonial records, , pp. , .] [footnote : weeden, i., .] indian trade in the middle colonies. morton, in the work already referred to, protested against allowing "the great lake of the erocoise" (champlain) to the dutch, saying that it is excellent for the fur trade, and that the dutch have gained by beaver , pounds a year. exaggerated though the statement is, it is true that the energies of the dutch were devoted to this trade, rather than to agricultural settlement. as in the case of new france the settlers dispersed themselves in the indian trade; so general did this become that laws had to be passed to compel the raising of crops.[ ] new york city (new amsterdam) was founded and for a time sustained by the fur trade. in their search for peltries the dutch were drawn up the hudson, up the connecticut, and down the delaware, where they had swedes for their rivals. by way of the hudson the dutch traders had access to lake champlain, and to the mohawk, the headwaters of which connected through the lakes of western new york with lake ontario. this region, which was supplied by the trading post of orange (albany), was the seat of the iroquois confederacy. the results of the trade upon indian society became apparent in a short time in the most decisive way. furnished with arms by the dutch, the iroquois turned upon the neighboring indians, whom the french had at first refrained from supplying with guns.[ ] in they completely ruined the hurons,[ ] a part of whom fled to the woods of northern wisconsin. in the years immediately following, the neutral nation and the eries fell under their power; they overawed the new england indians and the southern tribes, and their hunting and war parties visited illinois and drove indians of those plains into wisconsin. thus by priority in securing firearms, as well as by their remarkable civil organization,[ ] the iroquois secured possession of the st. lawrence and lakes ontario and erie. the french had accepted the alliance of the algonquins and the hurons, as the dutch, and afterward the english, had that of the iroquois; so these victories of the iroquois cut the french off from the entrance to the great lakes by way of the upper st. lawrence. as early as the dutch trade was estimated at , guilders per annum, and the delaware trade alone produced , skins yearly in .[ ] the english succeeded to this trade, and under governor dongan they made particular efforts to extend their operations to the northwest, using the iroquois as middlemen. although the french were in possession of the trade with the algonquins of the northwest, the english had an economic advantage in competing for this trade in the fact that albany traders, whose situation enabled them to import their goods more easily than montreal traders could, and who were burdened with fewer governmental restrictions, were able to pay fifty per cent more for beaver and give better goods. french traders frequently received their supplies from albany, a practice against which the english authorities legislated in ; and the _coureurs de bois_ smuggled their furs to the same place.[ ] as early as talon proposed that the king of france should purchase new york, "whereby he would have two entrances to canada and by which he would give to the french all the peltries of the north, of which the english share the profit by the communication which they have with the iroquois by manhattan and orange."[ ] it is a characteristic of the fur trade that it continually recedes from the original center, and so it happened that the english traders before long attempted to work their way into the illinois country.[ ] the wars between the french and english and iroquois must be read in the light of this fact. at the outbreak of the last french and indian war, however, it was rather pennsylvania and virginia traders who visited the ohio valley. it is said that some three hundred of them came over the mountains yearly, following the susquehanna and the juniata and the headwaters of the potomac to the tributaries of the ohio, and visiting with their pack-horses the indian villages along the valley. the center of the english trade was pickawillani on the great miami. in celoron de bienville, who had been sent out to vindicate french authority in the valley, reported that each village along the ohio and its branches "has one or more english traders, and each of these has hired men to carry his furs."[ ] footnotes: [footnote : new york colonial documents, i., , , § .] [footnote : _ibid._ ; collection de manuscrits relatifs à la nouvelle-france, i., ; radisson, .] [footnote : parkman, jesuits in north america; radisson; margry, découvertes et Établissemens, etc., iv., - ; tailhan, nicholas perrot.] [footnote : morgan, league of the iroquois.] [footnote : n.y. col. docs., ix., - ; v., , ; histoire et commerce des colonies angloises, .] [footnote : n.y. col. docs., iii., , ; ix., , .] [footnote : _ibid._ ix., . the same proposal was made in by du chesneau, _ibid._ ix., .] [footnote : parkman's works; n.y. col. docs., ix., ; shea's charlevoix, iv., : "the english, indeed, as already remarked, from that time shared with the french in the fur trade; and this was the chief motive of their fomenting war between us and the iroquois, inasmuch as they could get no good furs, which come from the northern districts, except by means of these indians, who could scarcely effect a reconciliation with us without precluding them from this precious mine."] [footnote : parkman, montcalm and wolfe, i., .] indian trade in the southern colonies. the indian trade of the virginians was not limited to the ohio country. as in the case of massachusetts bay, the trade had been provided for before the colony left england,[ ] and in times of need it had preserved the infant settlement. bacon's rebellion was in part due to the opposition to the governor's trading relations with the savages. after a time the nearer indians were exploited, and as early as the close of the seventeenth century virginia traders sought the indians west of the alleghanies.[ ] the cherokees lived among the mountains, "where the present states of tennessee, alabama, georgia, and the carolinas join one another."[ ] to the west, on the mississippi, were the chickasaws, south of whom lived the choctaws, while to the south of the cherokees were the creeks. the catawbas had their villages on the border of north and south carolina, about the headwaters of the santee river. shawnese indians had formerly lived on the cumberland river, and french traders had been among them, as well as along the mississippi;[ ] but by the time of the english traders, tennessee and kentucky were for the most part uninhabited. the virginia traders reached the catawbas, and for a time the cherokees, by a trading route through the southwest of the colony to the santee. by this trade was a well-established one,[ ] and caravans of one hundred pack-horses passed along the trail.[ ] the carolinas had early been interested in the fur trade. in the lords proprietors proposed to pay the governor's salary from the proceeds of the traffic. charleston traders were the rivals of the virginians in the southwest. they passed even to the choctaws and chickasaws, crossing the rivers by portable boats of skin, and sometimes taking up a permanent abode among the indians. virginia and carolina traders were not on good terms with each other, and governor spottswood frequently made complaints of the actions of the carolinians. his expedition across the mountains in , if his statement is to be trusted, opened a new way to the transmontane indians, and soon afterwards a trading company was formed under his patronage to avail themselves of this new route.[ ] it passed across the blue ridge into the shenandoah valley, and down the old indian trail to the cherokees, who lived along the upper tennessee. below the bend at the muscle shoals the virginians met the competition of the french traders from new orleans and mobile.[ ] the settlement of augusta, georgia, was another important trading post. here in was an english garrison of fifteen or twenty soldiers, and a little band of traders, who annually took about five hundred pack-horses into the indian country. in the spring the furs were floated down the river in large boats.[ ] the spaniards and the french also visited the indians, and the rivalry over this trade was an important factor in causing diplomatic embroilment.[ ] the occupation of the back-lands of the south affords a prototype of the process by which the plains of the far west were settled, and also furnishes an exemplification of all the stages of economic development existing contemporaneously. after a time the traders were accompanied to the indian grounds by _hunters_, and sometimes the two callings were combined.[ ] when boone entered kentucky he went with an indian trader whose posts were on the red river in kentucky.[ ] after the game decreased the hunter's clearing was occupied by the _cattle-raiser_, and his home, as settlement grew, became the property of the _cultivator of the soil_;[ ] the _manufacturing era_ belongs to our own time. in the south, the middle colonies and new england the trade opened the water-courses, the trading post grew into the palisaded town, and rival nations sought to possess the trade for themselves. throughout the colonial frontier the effects, as well as the methods, of indian traffic were strikingly alike. the trader was the pathfinder for civilization. nor was the process limited to the east of the mississippi. the expeditions of verenderye led to the discovery of the rocky mountains.[ ] french traders passed up the missouri; and when the lewis and clarke expedition ascended that river and crossed the continent, it went with traders and voyageurs as guides and interpreters. indeed, jefferson first conceived the idea of such an expedition[ ] from contact with ledyard, who was organizing a fur trading company in france, and it was proposed to congress as a means of fostering our western indian trade.[ ] the first immigrant train to california was incited by the representations of an indian trader who had visited the region, and it was guided by trappers.[ ] st. louis was the center of the fur trade of the far west, and senator benton was intimate with leading traders like chouteau.[ ] he urged the occupation of the oregon country, where in an establishment had for a time been made by the celebrated john jacob astor; and he fostered legislation opening the road to the southwestern mexican settlements long in use by the traders. the expedition of his son-in-law frémont was made with french voyageurs, and guided to the passes by traders who had used them before.[ ] benton was also one of the stoutest of the early advocates of a pacific railway. but the northwest[ ] was particularly the home of the fur trade, and having seen that this traffic was not an isolated or unimportant matter, we may now proceed to study it in detail with wisconsin as the field of investigation. footnotes: [footnote : charter of .] [footnote : ramsay, tennessee, .] [footnote : on the southwestern indians see adair, american indians.] [footnote : ramsay, .] [footnote : spottswood's letters, virginia hist. colls., n.s., i., .] [footnote : byrd manuscripts, i., . the reader will find a convenient map for the southern region in roosevelt, winning of the west, i.] [footnote : spottswood's letters, i., ; ii., , .] [footnote : ramsay, . note the bearing of this route on the holston settlement.] [footnote : georgia historical collections, i., ; ii., - .] [footnote : spottswood. ii., , for example.] [footnote : ramsay, .] [footnote : boone, life and adventures.] [footnote : observations on the north american land co., pp. xv., , london, .] [footnote : margry, vi.] [footnote : allen, lewis and clarke expedition, i., ix.; _vide post_, pp. - .] [footnote : _vide post_, p. .] [footnote : _century magazine_, xli., .] [footnote : jessie benton frémont in _century magazine_, xli., - .] [footnote : _century magazine_, xli., p. ; _vide post_, p. .] [footnote : parkman's works, particularly old régime, make any discussion of the importance of the fur trade to canada proper unnecessary. la hontan says: "for you must know that canada subsists only upon the trade of skins or furs, three-fourths of which come from the people that live around the great lakes." la hontan, i., , london, .] northwestern river systems in their relation to the fur trade. the importance of physical conditions is nowhere more manifest than in the exploration of the northwest, and we cannot properly appreciate wisconsin's relation to the history of the time without first considering her situation as regards the lake and river systems of north america. when the breton sailors, steering their fishing smacks almost in the wake of cabot, began to fish in the st. lawrence gulf, and to traffic with the natives of the mainland for peltries, the problem of how the interior of north america was to be explored was solved. the water-system composed of the st. lawrence and the great lakes is the key to the continent. the early explorations in a wilderness must be by water-courses--they are nature's highways. the st. lawrence leads to the great lakes; the headwaters of the tributaries of these lakes lie so near the headwaters of the rivers that join the mississippi that canoes can be portaged from the one to the other. the mississippi affords passage to the gulf of mexico; or by the missouri to the passes of the rocky mountains, where rise the headwaters of the columbia, which brings the voyageur to the pacific. but if the explorer follows lake superior to the present boundary line between minnesota and canada, and takes the chain of lakes and rivers extending from pigeon river to rainy lake and lake of the woods, he will be led to the winnipeg river and to the lake of the same name. from this, by streams and portages, he may reach hudson bay; or he may go by way of elk river and lake athabasca to slave river and slave lake, which will take him to mackenzie river and to the arctic sea. but lake winnipeg also receives the waters of the saskatchewan river, from which one may pass to the highlands near the pacific where rise the northern branches of the columbia. and from the lakes of canada there are still other routes to the oregon country.[ ] at a later day these two routes to the columbia became an important factor in bringing british and americans into conflict over that territory. in these water-systems wisconsin was the link that joined the great lakes and the mississippi; and along her northern shore the first explorers passed to the pigeon river, or, as it was called later, the grand portage route, along the boundary line between minnesota and canada into the heart of canada. it was possible to reach the mississippi from the great lakes by the following principal routes:[ ] . by the miami (maumee) river from the west end of lake erie to the wabash, thence to the ohio and the mississippi. . by the st. joseph's river to the wabash, thence to the ohio. . by the st. joseph's river to the kankakee, and thence to the illinois and the mississippi. . by the chicago river to the illinois. . by green bay, fox river, and the wisconsin river. . by the bois brulé river to the st. croix river. of these routes, the first two were not at first available, owing to the hostility of the iroquois. of all the colonies that fell to the english, as we have seen, new york alone had a water-system that favored communication with the interior, tapping the st. lawrence and opening a way to lake ontario. prevented by the iroquois friends of the dutch and english from reaching the northwest by way of the lower lakes, the french ascended the ottawa, reached lake nipissing, and passed by way of georgian bay to the islands of lake huron. as late as the nineteenth century this was the common route of the fur trade, for it was more certain for the birch canoes than the tempestuous route of the lakes. at the huron islands two ways opened before their canoes. the straits of michillimackinac[ ] permitted them to enter lake michigan, and from this led the two routes to the mississippi: one by way of green bay and the fox and wisconsin, and the other by way of the lake to the chicago river. but if the trader chose to go from the huron islands through sault ste. marie into lake superior, the necessities of his frail craft required him to hug the shore, and the rumors of copper mines induced the first traders to take the south shore, and here the lakes of northern wisconsin and minnesota afford connecting links between the streams that seek lake superior and those that seek the mississippi,[ ] a fact which made northern wisconsin more important in this epoch than the southern portion of the state. we are now able to see how the river-courses of the northwest permitted a complete exploration of the country, and that in these courses wisconsin held a commanding situation,[ ] but these rivers not only permitted exploration; they also furnished a motive to exploration by the fact that their valleys teemed with fur-bearing animals. this is the main fact in connection with northwestern exploration. the hope of a route to china was always influential, as was also the search for mines, but the practical inducements were the profitable trade with the indians for beaver and buffaloes and the wild life that accompanied it. so powerful was the combined influence of these far-stretching rivers, and the "hardy, adventurous, lawless, fascinating fur trade," that the scanty population of canada was irresistibly drawn from agricultural settlements into the interminable recesses of the continent; and herein is a leading explanation of the lack of permanent french influence in america. footnotes: [footnote : narr. and crit. hist. amer., viii., - .] [footnote : narr. and crit. hist. amer., iv., , n. ; margry, v. see also parkman, montcalm and wolfe, i., map and pp. - , .] [footnote : mackinaw.] [footnote : see doty's enumeration, wis. hist. colls., vii., .] [footnote : jes. rels., , p. ; la hontan, i., ( ).] wisconsin indians.[ ] "all that relates to the indian tribes of wisconsin," says dr. shea, "their antiquities, their ethnology, their history, is deeply interesting from the fact that it is the area of the first meeting of the algic and dakota tribes. here clans of both these wide-spread families met and mingled at a very early period; here they first met in battle and mutually checked each other's advance." the winnebagoes attracted the attention of the french even before they were visited. they were located about green bay. their later location at the entrance of lake winnebago was unoccupied, at least in the time of allouez, because of the hostility of the sioux. early authorities represented them as numbering about one hundred warriors.[ ] the pottawattomies we find in at sault ste. marie,[ ] whither they had just fled from their enemies. their proper home was probably about the southeastern shore and islands of green bay, where as early as they were again located. of their numbers in wisconsin at this time we can say but little. allouez, at chequamegon bay, was visited by of their warriors, and he mentions some of their green bay villages, one of which had souls.[ ] the menomonees were found chiefly on the river that bears their name, and the western tributaries of green bay seem to have been their territory. on the estimates of early authorities we may say that they had about warriors.[ ] the sauks and foxes were closely allied tribes. the sauks were found by allouez[ ] four leagues[ ] up the fox from its mouth, and the foxes at a place reached by a four days' ascent of the wolf river from its mouth. later we find them at the confluence of the wolf and the fox. according to their early visitors these two tribes must have had something over warriors.[ ] the miamis and mascoutins were located about a league from the fox river, probably within the limits of what is now green lake county,[ ] and four leagues away were their friends the kickapoos. in the miamis and mascoutins were estimated at warriors, and this may have included the kickapoos. the sioux held possession of the upper mississippi, and in wisconsin hunted on its northeastern tributaries. their villages were in later times all on the west of the mississippi, and of their early numbers no estimate can be given. the chippeways were along the southern shore of lake superior. their numbers also are in doubt, but were very considerable.[ ] in northwestern wisconsin, with chequamegon bay as their rendezvous, were the ottawas and hurons,[ ] who had fled here to escape the iroquois. in they were back again to their homes at mackinaw and the huron islands. but in , as allouez tells us, they were situated at the bottom of this beautiful bay, planting their indian corn and leading a stationary life. "they are there," he says, "to the number of eight hundred men bearing arms, but collected from seven different nations who dwell in peace with each other thus mingled together."[ ] and the jesuit relations of add that the illinois "come here from time to time in great numbers as merchants to procure hatchets, cooking utensils, guns, and other things of which they stand in need." here, too, came pottawattomies, as we have seen, and sauks. at the mouth of fox river[ ] we find another mixed village of pottawattomies, sauks, foxes, and winnebagoes, and at a later period milwaukee was the site of a similar heterogeneous community. leaving out the hurons, the tribes of wisconsin were, with two exceptions, of the algic stock. the exceptions are the winnebagoes and the sioux, who belong to the dakota family. of these wisconsin tribes it is probable that the sauks and foxes, the pottawattomies, the hurons and ottawas and the mascoutins, and miamis and kickapoos, were driven into wisconsin by the attacks of eastern enemies. the iroquois even made incursions as far as the home of the mascoutins on fox river. on the other side of the state were the sioux, "the iroquois of the west," as the missionaries call them, who had once claimed all the region, and whose invasions, allouez says, rendered lake winnebago uninhabited. there was therefore a pressure on both sides of wisconsin which tended to mass together the divergent tribes. and the green bay and fox and wisconsin route was the line of least resistance, as well as a region abounding in wild rice, fish and game, for these early fugitives. in this movement we have two facts that are not devoid of significance in institutional history: first, the welding together of separate tribes, as the sauks and foxes, and the miamis, mascoutins and kickapoos; and second, a commingling of detached families from various tribes at peculiarly favorable localities. footnotes: [footnote : on these early locations, consult the authorities cited by shea in wis. hist. colls., iii., _et seq._, and by branson in his criticism on shea, _ibid._ iv., . see also butterfield's discovery of the northwest in , and _mag. west. hist._, v., , ; and minn. hist. colls., v.] [footnote : some early estimates were as follows: , "great numbers" (margry, i., ); , to warriors (n.y. col. docs., ix., ); , or warriors (margry, vi., ); , warriors (chaurignerie, cited in schoolcraft's indian tribes, iii., ); , warriors (gorrell, wis. hist. colls., i., ).] [footnote : margry, i., .] [footnote : jes. rels., , .] [footnote : , estimated at to warriors (n.y. col. docs., ix., ); , estimated at warriors (gorrell, wis. hist. colls., i., ).] [footnote : jes. rels., .] [footnote : french leagues.] [footnote : , foxes estimated at warriors (jes. rels., ); , foxes, warriors (jes. rels., ); , foxes and mascoutins, warriors (n.y. col. docs., ix., ); , sauks or , foxes warriors ( penn. archives, vi., ); , foxes, warriors (margry, v.); , sauks and foxes, warriors (gorrell, wis. hist. colls., i., ). this, it must be observed, was after the fox wars.] [footnote : jes. rels., ; butterfield's discovery of the northwest.] [footnote : in those in wisconsin numbered about hunters.] [footnote : on these indians consult, besides authorities already cited, shea's discovery, etc. lx.; jes. rels.; narr. and crit. hist. of amer., iv., - , ; radisson's voyages; margry, iv., - .] [footnote : jes. rels., - .] [footnote : jes. rels., .] periods of the wisconsin indian trade. the indian trade was almost the sole interest in wisconsin during the two centuries that elapsed from the visit of nicolet in to about , when lead-mining had superseded it in the southwest and land offices were opened at green bay and mineral point; when the port of milwaukee received an influx of settlers to the lands made known by the so-called black hawk war; and when astor retired from the american fur company. these two centuries may be divided into three periods of the trade: . french, from to ; . english, from to ; . american, from to . french exploration in wisconsin. sagard,[ ] whose work was published in , tells us that the hurons, who traded with the french, visited the winnebagoes and the fire nation (mascoutins),[ ] bartering goods for peltries. champlain, the famous fur-trader, who represented the company of the hundred associates,[ ] formed by richelieu to monopolize the fur trade of new france and govern the country, sent an agent named jean nicolet, in ,[ ] to green bay and fox river to make a peace between the hurons and the winnebagoes in the interests of inter-tribal commerce. the importance of this phase of the trade as late as may be inferred from these words of du chesneau, speaking of the ottawas, and including under the term the petun hurons and the chippeways also: "through them we obtain beaver, and although they, for the most part, do not hunt, and have but a small portion of peltry in their country, they go in search of it to the most distant places, and exchange for it our merchandise which they procure at montreal." among the tribes enumerated as dealing with the ottawas are the sioux, satiks, pottawattomies, winnebagoes, menomonees and mascoutins--all wisconsin indians at this time. he adds: "some of these tribes occasionally come down to montreal, but usually they do not do so in very great numbers because they are too far distant, are not expert at managing canoes, and because the other indians intimidate them, in order to be the carriers of their merchandise and to profit thereby."[ ] it was the aim of the authorities to attract the indians to montreal, or to develop the inter-tribal communication, and thus to centralize the trade and prevent the dissipation of the energies of the colony; but the temptations of the free forest traffic were too strong. in a memoir of , aubert de la chesnaye says: "at first, the french went only among the hurons, and since then to missilimakinak, where they sold their goods to the savages of the places, who in turn went to exchange them with other savages in the depths of the woods, lands and rivers. but at present the french, having licenses, in order to secure greater profit surreptitiously, pass all the 'ottawas and savages of missilimakinak in order to go themselves to seek the most distant tribes, which is very displeasing to the former. _it is they, also, who have made excellent discoveries;_ and four or five hundred young men, the best men of canada, are engaged in this business.... they have given us knowledge of many names of savages that we did not know; and four or five hundred leagues more remote are others who are unknown to us."[ ] two of the most noteworthy of these _coureurs de bois_, or wood-rangers, were radisson and groseilliers.[ ] in they returned to montreal with algonquins and sixty canoes laden with furs, after a voyage in which they visited, among other tribes, the pottawattomies, mascoutins, sioux, and hurons, in wisconsin. from the hurons they learned of the mississippi, and probably visited the river. they soon returned from montreal to the northern wisconsin region. in the course of their wanderings they had a post at chequamegon bay, and they ascended the pigeon river, thus opening the grand portage route to the heart of canada. among their exploits they induced england to enter the hudson bay trade, and gave the impetus that led to the organization of the hudson bay company. the reports which these traders brought back had a most important effect in fostering exploration in the northwest, and led to the visit of menard, who was succeeded by allouez, the pioneers of the jesuits in wisconsin.[ ] radisson gives us a good account of the early wisconsin trade. of his visit to the ottawas he says: "we weare wellcomed & made of saying that we weare the gods and devils of the earth; that we should fournish them, & that they would bring us to their enemy to destroy them. we tould them [we] were very well content. we persuaded them first to come peaceably, not to distroy them presently, and if they would not condescend then would wee throw away the hatchett and make use of our thunders. we sent ambassadors to them wth guifts. that nation called pontonatemick[ ] without more adoe comes and meets us with the rest, and peace was concluded." "the savages," he writes, "love knives better than we serve god, which should make us blush for shame." in another place, "we went away free from any burden whilst those poore miserable thought themselves happy to carry our equipage for the hope that they had that we should give them a brasse ring, or an awle, or an needle."[ ] we find them using this influence in various places to make peace between hostile tribes, whom they threatened with punishment. this early commerce was carried on under the fiction of an exchange of presents. for example, radisson says: "we gave them severall gifts and received many. they bestowed upon us above robs of castors out of wch we brought not five to the ffrench being far in the country."[ ] among the articles used by radisson in this trade were kettles, hatchets, knives, graters, awls, needles, tin looking-glasses, little bells, ivory combs, vermilion, sword blades, necklaces and bracelets. the sale of guns and blankets was at this time exceptional, nor does it appear that radisson carried brandy in this voyage.[ ] more and more the young men of canada continued to visit the savages at their villages. by the _coureurs de bois_ formed a distinct class,[ ] who, despite the laws against it, pushed from michillimackinac into the wilderness. wisconsin was a favorite resort of these adventurers. by the time of the arrival of the jesuits they had made themselves entirely at home upon our lakes. they had preceded allouez at chequamegon bay, and when he established his mission at green bay he came at the invitation of the pottawattomies, who wished him to "mollify some young frenchmen who were among them for the purpose of trading and who threatened and ill-treated them."[ ] he found fur traders before him on the fox and the wolf. bancroft's assertion[ ] that "religious enthusiasm took possession of the wilderness on the upper lakes and explored the mississippi," is misleading. it is not true that "not a cape was turned, nor a mission founded, nor a river entered, nor a settlement begun, but a jesuit led the way." in fact the jesuits followed the traders;[ ] their missions were on the sites of trading posts, and they themselves often traded.[ ] when st. lusson, with the _coureur de bois_, nicholas perrot, took official possession of the northwest for france at the sault ste. marie in , the cost of the expedition was defrayed by trade in beaver.[ ] joliet, who, accompanied by marquette, descended the mississippi by the fox and wisconsin route in , was an experienced fur trader. while du lhut, chief of the _coureurs de bois_, was trading on lake superior, la salle,[ ] the greatest of these merchants, was preparing his far-reaching scheme for colonizing the indians in the illinois region under the direction of the french, so that they might act as a check on the inroads of the iroquois, and aid in his plan of securing an exit for the furs of the northwest, particularly buffalo hides, by way of the mississippi and the gulf. la salle's "griffen," the earliest ship to sail the great lakes, was built for this trade, and received her only cargo at green bay. accault, one of la salle's traders, with hennepin, met du lhut on the upper mississippi, which he had reached by way of the bois brulé and st. croix, in . du lhut's trade awakened the jealousy of la salle, who writes in : "if they go by way of the ouisconsing, where for the present the chase of the buffalo is carried on and where i have commenced an establishment, they will ruin the trade on which alone i rely, on account of the great number of buffalo which are taken there every year, almost beyond belief."[ ] speaking of the jesuits at green bay, he declares that they "have in truth the key to the beaver country, where a brother blacksmith that they have and two companions convert more iron into beaver than the fathers convert savages into christians."[ ] perrot says that the beaver north of the mouth of the wisconsin were better than those of the illinois country, and the chase was carried on in this region for a longer period;[ ] and we know from dablon that the wisconsin savages were not compelled to separate by families during the hunting season, as was common among other tribes, because the game here was so abundant.[ ] aside from its importance as a key to the northwestern trade, wisconsin seems to have been a rich field of traffic itself. with such extensive operations as the foregoing in the region reached by wisconsin rivers, it is obvious that the government could not keep the _coureurs de bois_ from the woods. even governors like frontenac connived at the traffic and shared its profits. in the government decided to issue annual licenses,[ ] and messengers were dispatched to announce amnesty to the _coureurs de bois_ about green bay and the south shore of lake superior.[ ] we may now offer some conclusions upon the connection of the fur trade with french explorations: . the explorations were generally induced and almost always rendered profitable by the fur trade. in addition to what has been presented on this point, note the following: in , patoulet writes to colbert concerning la salle's voyage to explore a passage to japan: "the enterprise is difficult and dangerous, but the good thing about it is that the king will be at no expense for this pretended discovery."[ ] the king's instructions to governor de la barre in say that, "several inhabitants of canada, excited by the hope of the profit to be realized from the trade with the indians for furs, have undertaken at various periods discoveries in the countries of the nadoussioux, the river mississipy, and other parts of america."[ ] . the early traders were regarded as quasi-supernatural beings by the indians.[ ] they alone could supply the coveted iron implements, the trinkets that tickled the savage's fancy, the "fire-water," and the guns that gave such increased power over game and the enemy. in the course of a few years the wisconsin savages passed from the use of the implements of the stone age to the use of such an important product of the iron age as firearms. they passed also from the economic stage in which their hunting was for food and clothing simply, to that stage in which their hunting was made systematic and stimulated by the european demand for furs. the trade tended to perpetuate the hunter stage by making it profitable, and it tended to reduce the indian to economic dependence[ ] upon the europeans, for while he learned to use the white man's gun he did not learn to make it or even to mend it. in this transition stage from their primitive condition the influence of the trader over the indians was all-powerful. the pre-eminence of the individual indian who owned a gun made all the warriors of the tribe eager to possess like power. the tribe thus armed placed their enemies at such a disadvantage that they too must have like weapons or lose their homes.[ ] no wonder that la salle was able to say: "the savages take better care of us french than of their own children. from us only can they get guns and goods."[ ] this was the power that france used to support her in the struggle with england for the northwest. . the trader used his influence to promote peace between the northwestern indians.[ ] footnotes: [footnote : histoire du canada, - (edition of ).] [footnote : dablon, jesuit relations, .] [footnote : see parkman, pioneers, ff. ( ).] [footnote : margry, i., . the date rests on inference; see bibliography of nicolet in wis. hist. colls., xi., and cf. hebberd, wisconsin under french dominion, .] [footnote : n.y. col. docs., ix., .] [footnote : margry, vi., ; coll. de mamiscrits, i., , where the date is wrongly given as . the italics are ours.] [footnote : radisson, voyages (prince soc. pubs.); margry, i., - , ; jes. rels., ; wis. hist. colls., x., xi; narrative and critical hist. amer., iv., - .] [footnote : cf. radisson, - , and jes. rels., , pp. , ; , pp. ff.] [footnote : pottawattomies in the region of green bay.] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., xi., - .] [footnote : _ibid._ xi., .] [footnote : radisson, , , .] [footnote : suite, in transactions of the wisconsin academy of science, arts and letters, v., ; n.y. col. docs., ix., , , ; margry, vi., ; parkman, old régime, - .] [footnote : cf. jes. rels., , p. .] [footnote : history of united states, ii., ( ).] [footnote : harrisse, notes sur la nouvelle france, - .] [footnote : parkman, old régime, ff., and la salle, ; margry, ii., ; radisson, .] [footnote : see talon's report quoted in narr. and crit. hist. amer., iv., .] [footnote : margry abounds in evidences of la salle's commercial activity, as does parkman's la salle. see also dunn, indiana, - .] [footnote : margry, ii., .] [footnote : margry, ii., .] [footnote : tailhan's perrot, .] [footnote : jes. rels., .] [footnote : la hontan, i., ; n.y. col. docs., ix., ; parkman, old régime, .] [footnote : margry, vi., .] [footnote : margry, i., .] [footnote : n.y. col. docs., ix., . on the cost of such expeditions, see documents in margry, i., - ; vi., - . on the profits of the trade, see la salle in penna. archives, vi., - .] [footnote : see radisson, _ante_, p. .] [footnote : _vide post_, p. .] [footnote : _vide ante_, p. ; radisson, ; minn. hist. colls., v., . compare the effects of the introduction of bronze weapons into europe.] [footnote : margry, ii., . on the power possessed by the french through this trade consult also d'iberville's plan for locating wisconsin indians on the illinois by changing their trading posts; see margry, iv., - .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., xi., - , ; narr. and crit. hist. amer., iv., ; perrot, ; margry, vi., - , - .] french posts in wisconsin. in the governorship of dongan of new york, as has been noted, the english were endeavoring to secure the trade of the northwest. as early as , english traders had reached michillimackinac, the depot of supplies for the _coureur de bois_, where they were cordially received by the indians, owing to their cheaper goods[ ]. at the same time the english on hudson bay were drawing trade to their posts in that region. the french were thoroughly alarmed. they saw the necessity of holding the indians by trading posts in their midst, lest they should go to the english, for as begon declared, the savages "always take the part of those with whom they trade."[ ] it is at this time that the french occupation of the northwest begins to assume a new phase. stockaded trading posts were established at such key-points as a strait, a portage, a river-mouth, or an important lake, where also were indian villages. in the celebrated nicholas perrot was given command of green bay and its dependencies[ ]. he had trading posts near trempealeau and at fort st. antoine on the wisconsin side of lake pepin where he traded with the sioux, and for a time he had a post and worked the lead-mines above the des moines river. both these and fort st. nicholas at the mouth of the wisconsin[ ] were dependencies of green bay. du lhut probably established fort st. croix at the portage between the bois brulé river and the st. croix.[ ] in le sueur built a fort on the largest island above lake pepin, and he also asked the command of the post of chequamegon.[ ] these official posts were supported by the profits of indian commerce,[ ] and were designed to keep the northwestern tribes at peace, and to prevent the english and iroquois influence from getting the fur trade. footnotes: [footnote : n.y. col. docs., ix., , ; iv., .] [footnote : quoted in sheldon, early history of michigan, .] [footnote : tailhan's perrot, .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., x., , - , , .] [footnote : narr. and crit. hist. amer., iv., .] [footnote : margry, vi., . near ashland, wis.] [footnote : consult french mss., d series, vi., parl. library, ottawa, cited in minn. hist. colls., v., ; id., v., . in m. la ronde, having constructed at his own expense a bark of forty tons on lake superior, received the post of la pointe de chagouamigon as a gratuity to defray his expenses. see also the story of verenderye's posts, in parkman's article in _atlantic monthly_, june, , and margry, vi. see also penna. archives, vi., ; la hontan, i., ; n.y. col. docs., ix., ; tailhan, perrot, .] the fox wars. in perrot had collected wisconsin indians for an attack on the iroquois, and again in he led them against the same enemy. but the efforts of the iroquois and the english to enter the region with their cheaper and better goods, and the natural tendency of savages to plunder when assured of supplies from other sources, now overcame the control which the french had exercised. the sauks and foxes, the mascoutins, kickapoos and miamis, as has been described, held the fox and wisconsin route to the west, the natural and easy highway to the mississippi, as la hontan calls it.[ ] green bay commanded this route, as la pointe de chagouamigon[ ] commanded the lake superior route to the bois brulé and the st. croix. one of perrot's main objects was to supply the sioux on the other side of the mississippi, and these were the routes to them. to the illinois region, also, the fox route was the natural one. the indians of this waterway therefore held the key to the french position, and might attempt to prevent the passage of french goods and support english influence and trade, or they might try to monopolize the intermediate trade themselves, or they might try to combine both policies. as early as the foxes, mascoutins and kickapoos, animated apparently by hostility to the trade carried on by perrot with the sioux, their enemy at that time, threatened to pillage the post at green bay.[ ] the closing of the ottawa to the northern fur trade by the iroquois for three years, a blow which nearly ruined canada in the days of frontenac, as parkman has described,[ ] not only kept vast stores of furs from coming down from michillimackinac; it must, also, have kept goods from reaching the northwestern indians. in the mascoutins, who attributed the death of some of their men to perrot, plundered his goods, and the foxes soon entered into negotiation with the iroquois.[ ] frontenac expressed great apprehension lest with their allies on the fox and wisconsin route they should remove eastward and come into connection with the iroquois and the english, a grave danger to new france.[ ] nor was this apprehension without reason.[ ] even such docile allies as the ottawas and pottawattomies threatened to leave the french if goods were not sent to them wherewith to oppose their enemies. "they have powder and iron," complained an ottawa deputy; "how can we sustain ourselves? have compassion, then, on us, and consider that it is no easy matter to kill men with clubs."[ ] by the end of the seventeenth century the disaffected indians closed the fox and wisconsin route against french trade.[ ] in an order was issued recalling the french from the northwest, it being the design to concentrate french power at the nearer posts.[ ] detroit was founded in as a place to which to attract the northwestern trade and intercept the english. in the priest at st. joseph reported that the english were sending presents to the miamis about that post and desiring to form an establishment in their country.[ ] at the same date we find d'iberville, of louisiana, proposing a scheme for drawing the miamis, mascoutins and kickapoos from the wisconsin streams to the illinois, by changing their trading posts from green bay to the latter region, and drawing the illinois by trading posts to the lower ohio.[ ] it was shortly after this that the miamis and kickapoos passed south under either the french or english influence,[ ] and the hostility of the foxes became more pronounced. a part of the scheme of la motte cadillac at detroit was to colonize indians about that post,[ ] and in foxes, sauks, mascoutins, kickapoos, pottawattomies, hurons, ottawas, illinois, menomonees and others were gathered there under the influence of trade. but soon, whether by design of the french and their allies or otherwise, hostilities broke out against the foxes and their allies. the animus of the combat appears in the cries of the foxes as they raised red blankets for flags and shouted "we have no father but the english!" while the allies of the french replied, "the english are cowards; they destroy the indians with brandy and are enemies of the true god!" the foxes were defeated with great slaughter and driven back to wisconsin.[ ] from this time until the french waged war against the foxes with but short intermissions. the foxes allied themselves with the iroquois and the sioux, and acted as middlemen between the latter and the traders, refusing passage to goods on the ground that it would damage their own trade to allow this.[ ] they fostered hostilities between their old foes the chippeways and their new allies the sioux, and thus they cut off english intercourse with the latter by way of the north. this trade between the chippeways and the sioux was important to the french, and commandants were repeatedly sent to la pointe de chagouamigon and the upper mississippi to make peace between the two tribes.[ ] while the wars were in progress the english took pains to enforce their laws against furnishing indian goods to french traders. the english had for a time permitted this, and their own indian trade had suffered because the french were able to make use of the cheap english goods. by their change in policy the english now brought home to the savages the fact that french goods were dearer.[ ] moreover, english traders were sent to niagara to deal directly with "the far indians," and the foxes visited the english and iroquois, and secured a promise that they might take up their abode with the latter and form an additional member of the confederacy in case of need.[ ] as a counter policy the french attempted to exterminate the foxes, and detached the sioux from their alliance with the foxes by establishing fort beauharnois, a trading post on the minnesota side of lake pepin.[ ] the results of these wars were as follows: . they spread the feeling of defection among the northwestern indians, who could no longer be restrained, as at first, by the threat of cutting off their trade, there being now rivals in the shape of the english, and the french traders from louisiana.[ ] . they caused a readjustment of the indian map of wisconsin. the mascoutins and the pottawattomies had already moved southward to the illinois country. now the foxes, driven from their river, passed first to prairie du chien and then down the mississippi. the sauks went at first to the wisconsin, near sauk prairie, and then joined the foxes. the winnebagoes gradually extended themselves along the fox and wisconsin. the chippeways,[ ] freed from their fear of the foxes, to whom the wolf and the wisconsin had given access to the northern portion of the state, now passed south to lac du flambeau,[ ] to the headwaters of the wisconsin, and to lac court oreilles.[ ] . the closing of the fox and wisconsin route fostered that movement of trade and exploration which at this time began to turn to the far northwest along the pigeon river route into central british america, in search of the sea of the west,[ ] whereby the rocky mountains were discovered; and it may have aided in turning settlement into the illinois country. . these wars were a part of a connected series, including the iroquois wars, the fox wars, the attack of the wisconsin trader, charles de langlade, upon the center of english trade at pickawillany,[ ] ohio, and the french and indian war that followed. all were successive stages of the struggle against english trade in the french possessions. footnotes: [footnote : la hontan, i., .] [footnote : near ashland, wis.] [footnote : tailhan, perrot, , .] [footnote : frontenac, - . cf. perrot, .] [footnote : perrot, ; n.y. col. docs., ix., .] [footnote : _ibid._] [footnote : n.y. col. docs., iv., - .] [footnote : n.y. col. docs., ix., .] [footnote : shea, early voyages, .] [footnote : kingsford, canada, ii., ; n.y. col. docs., ix., .] [footnote : margry, v., .] [footnote : _ibid._ iv., .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., iii., ; smith, wisconsin, ii., .] [footnote : coll. de manus., iii., .] [footnote : see hebberd's account, wisconsin under french dominion; coll. de manus., i., ; smith, wisconsin, ii., .] [footnote : margry, vi., .] [footnote : tailhan, perrot, _passim_; n.y. col. docs., ix., , , ; margry, vi., - , , - ; minn. hist. colls., v., , ; wis. hist. colls., iii., .] [footnote : n.y. col. docs., v., ff.] [footnote : _ibid._ iv., , , - ; v., , .] [footnote : margry, vi., , , - ; neill in _mag. western history_, november, .] [footnote : perrot, ; parkman, montcalm and wolfe, i., ; hebberd, wisconsin under french dominion, chapters on the fox wars.] [footnote : minn. hist. colls., v., - .] [footnote : oneida county.] [footnote : sawyer county.] [footnote : margry, vi.] [footnote : parkman, montcalm and wolfe, i., , and citations; _vide post_, p. .] french settlement in wisconsin. settlement was not the object of the french in the northwest. the authorities saw as clearly as do we that the field was too vast for the resources of the colony, and they desired to hold the region as a source of peltries, and contract their settlements. the only towns worthy of the name in the northwest were detroit and the settlements in indiana and illinois, all of which depended largely on the fur trade.[ ] but in spite of the government the traffic also produced the beginnings of settlement in wisconsin. about the middle of the century, augustin de langlade had made green bay his trading post. after pontiac's war,[ ] charles de langlade[ ] made the place his permanent residence, and a little settlement grew up. at prairie du chien french traders annually met the indians, and at this time there may have been a stockaded trading post there, but it was not a permanent settlement until the close of the revolutionary war. chequamegon bay was deserted[ ] at the outbreak of the french war. there may have been a regular trading post at milwaukee in this period, but the first trader recorded is not until .[ ] doubtless wintering posts existed at other points in wisconsin. the characteristic feature of french occupancy of the northwest was the trading post, and in illustration of it, and of the centralized administration of the french, the following account of de repentigny's fort at sault ste. marie (michigan) is given in the words of governor la jonquière to the minister for the colonies in :[ ] "he arrived too late last year at the sault ste. marie to fortify himself well; however, he secured himself in a sort of fort large enough to receive the traders of missilimakinac.... he employed his hired men during the whole winter in cutting pickets of fifteen feet for his fort, with the doublings, and the timber necessary for the construction of three houses, one of them thirty feet long by twenty wide, and two others twenty-five feet long and the same width as the first. his fort is entirely furnished with the exception of a redoubt of oak, which he is to have made twelve feet square, and which shall reach the same distance above the gate of the fort. his fort is feet square. "as for the cultivation of the lands, the sieur de repentigny has a bull, two bullocks, three cows, two heifers, one horse and a mare from missilimakinac.... he has engaged a frenchman who married at sault ste. marie an indian woman to take a farm; they have cleared it and sowed it, and without a frost they will gather to sacks of corn. the said sieur de repentigny so much feels it his duty to devote himself to the cultivation of these lands that he has already entered into a bargain for two slaves[ ] whom he will employ to take care of the corn[ ] that he will gather upon these lands." footnotes: [footnote : fergus, historical series, no. ; breese, early history of illinois; dunn, indiana; hubbard, memorials of a half century; monette, history of the valley of the mississippi, i., ch. iv.] [footnote : henry, travels, ch. x.] [footnote : see memoir in wis. hist. colls., vii.; iii., ; vii., , , .] [footnote : henry, travels.] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., i., .] [footnote : minn. hist. colls., v., - .] [footnote : indians. compare wis. hist. colls., iii., ; vii., , , .] [footnote : the french minister for the colonies expressing approval of this post writes in : "as it can hardly be expected that any other grain than corn will grow there, it is necessary at least for a while to stick to it, and not to persevere stubbornly in trying to raise wheat." on this dr. e.d. neill comments: "millions of bushels of wheat from the region west and north of lake superior pass every year ... through the ship canal at sault ste. marie." the corn was for supplying the voyageurs.] the traders' struggle to retain their trade. while they had been securing the trade of the far northwest and the illinois country, the french had allowed the english to gain the trade of the upper ohio,[ ] and were now brought face to face with the danger of losing the entire northwest, and thus the connection of canada and louisiana. the commandants of the western posts were financially as well as patriotically interested. in , green bay, then garrisoned by an officer, a sergeant and four soldiers, required for the indian trade of its department thirteen canoes of goods annually, costing about livres each, making a total of nearly $ , .[ ] bougainville asserts that marin, the commandant of the department of the bay, was associated in trade with the governor and intendant, and that his part netted him annually , francs. when it became necessary for the french to open hostilities with the english traders in the ohio country, it was the wisconsin trader, charles de langlade, with his chippeway indians, who in fell upon the english trading post at pickawillany and destroyed the center of english trade in the ohio region.[ ] the leaders in the opening of the war that ensued were northwestern traders. st. pierre, who commanded at fort le boeuf when washington appeared with his demands from the governor of virginia that the french should evacuate the ohio country, had formerly been the trader in command at lake pepin on the upper mississippi.[ ] coulon de villiers, who captured washington at fort necessity, was the son of the former commandant at green bay.[ ] beaujeau, who led the french troops to the defeat of braddock, had been an officer in the fox wars.[ ] it was charles de langlade who commanded the indians and was chiefly responsible for the success of the ambuscade.[ ] wisconsin indians, representing almost all the tribes, took part with the french in the war.[ ] traders passed to and from their business to the battlefields of the east. for example, de repentigny, whose post at sault ste. marie has been described, was at michillimackinac in january, , took part in the battle of lake george in the fall of that year, formed a partnership to continue the trade with a trader of michillimackinac in , was at that place in , and in fought with montcalm on the heights of abraham.[ ] it was not without a struggle that the traders yielded their beaver country. footnotes: [footnote : margry, vi., .] [footnote : canadian archives, , clxxii.] [footnote : parkman, montcalm and wolfe, i., .] [footnote : minn. hist. colls., v., . washington was guided to the fort along an old trading route by traders; the trail was improved by the ohio company, and was used by braddock in his march (sparks, washington's works, ii., ).] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., v., .] [footnote : _ibid._, .] [footnote : parkman, montcalm and wolfe, ii., - . he was prominently engaged in other battles; see wis. hist. colls., vii., - .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., v., .] [footnote : neill, in _mag. west. hist._, vii., , and minn. hist. colls., v., - . for other examples see wis. hist. colls., v., - ; minn. hist. colls., v., - .] the english and the northwest. influence of the indian trade on diplomacy. in the meantime what was the attitude of the english toward the northwest? in governor spotswood of virginia wrote:[ ] "the danger which threatens these, his maj'ty's plantations, from this new settlement is also very considerable, for by the communication which the french may maintain between canada and mississippi by the conveniency of the lakes, they do in a manner surround all the british plantations. they have it in their power by these lakes and the many rivers running into them and into the mississippi to engross all the trade of the indian nations w'ch are now supplied from hence." cadwallader colden, surveyor-general of new york, says in : "new france (as the french now claim) extends from the mouth of the mississippi to the mouth of the river st. lawrence, by which the french plainly shew their intention of enclosing the british settlements and cutting us off from all commerce with the numerous nations of indians that are everywhere settled over the vast continent of north america."[ ] as time passed, as population increased, and as the reports of the traders extolled the fertility of the country, both the english and the french, but particularly the americans, began to consider it from the standpoint of colonization as well as from that of the fur trade.[ ] the ohio company had both settlement and the fur trade in mind,[ ] and the french governor, galissonière, at the same period urged that france ought to plant a colony in the ohio region.[ ] after the conquest of new france by england there was still the question whether she should keep canada and the northwest.[ ] franklin, urging her to do so, offered as one argument the value of the fur trade, intrinsically and as a means of holding the indians in check. discussing the question whether the interior regions of america would ever be accessible to english settlement and so to english manufactures, he pointed out the vastness of our river and lake system, and the fact that indian trade already permeated the interior. in interesting comparison he called their attention to the fact that english commerce reached along river systems into the remote parts of europe, and that in ancient times the levant had carried on a trade with the distant interior.[ ] that the value of the fur trade was an important element in inducing the english to retain canada is shown by the fact that great britain no sooner came into the possession of the country than she availed herself of the fields for which she had so long intrigued. among the western posts she occupied green bay, and with the garrison came traders;[ ] but the fort was abandoned on the outbreak of pontiac's war.[ ] this war was due to the revolt of the indians of the northwest against the transfer of authority, and was fostered by the french traders.[ ] it concerned wisconsin but slightly, and at its close we find green bay a little trading community along the fox, where a few families lived comfortably[ ] under the quasi-patriarchal rule of langlade.[ ] in trade was re-established at chequamegon bay by an english trader named henry, and here he found the chippeways dressed in deerskins, the wars having deprived them of a trader.[ ] as early as some scotch merchants more extensively reopened the fur trade, using michillimackinac as the basis of their operations and employing french voyageurs.[ ] by the proclamation of the king in the northwest was left without political organization, it being reserved as crown lands and exempt from purchase or settlement, the design being to give up to the indian trade all the lands "westward of the sources of the rivers which fall into the sea from the west and northwest as aforesaid." in a report of the lords commissioners for trade and plantations in we find the attitude of the english government clearly set forth in these words:[ ] "the great object of colonization upon the continent of north america has been to improve and extend the commerce and manufactures of this kingdom.... it does appear to us that the extension of the fur trade depends entirely upon the indians being undisturbed in the possession of their hunting grounds, and that all colonization does in its nature and must in its consequence operate to the prejudice of that branch of commerce.... let the savages enjoy their deserts in quiet. were they driven from their forests the peltry trade would decrease." in a word, the english government attempted to adopt the western policy of the french. from one point of view it was a successful policy. the french traders took service under the english, and in the revolutionary war charles de langlade led the wisconsin indians to the aid of hamilton against george rogers clark,[ ] as he had before against the british, and in the war of the british trader robert dickson repeated this movement.[ ] as in the days of begon, "the savages took the part of those with whom they traded." the secret proposition of vergennes, in the negotiations preceding the treaty of , to limit the united states by the alleghanies and to give the northwest to england, while reserving the rest of the region between the mountains and the mississippi as indian territory under spanish protection,[ ] would have given the fur trade to these nations.[ ] in the extensive discussions over the diplomacy whereby the northwest was included within the limits of the united states, it has been asserted that we won our case by the chartered claims of the colonies and by george rogers clark's conquest of the illinois country. it appears, however, that in fact franklin, who had been a prominent member and champion of the ohio company, and who knew the west from personal acquaintance, had persuaded shelburne to cede it to us as a part of a liberal peace that should effect a reconciliation between the two countries. shelburne himself looked upon the region from the point of view of the fur trade simply, and was more willing to make this concession than he was some others. in the discussion over the treaty in parliament in , the northwestern boundary was treated almost solely from the point of view of the fur trade and of the desertion of the indians. the question was one of profit and loss in this traffic. one member attacked shelburne on the ground that, "not thinking the naked independence a sufficient proof of his liberality to the united states, he had clothed it with the warm covering of our fur trade." shelburne defended his cession "on the fair rule of the value of the district ceded,"[ ] and comparing exports and imports and the cost of administration, he concluded that the fur trade of the northwest was not of sufficient value to warrant continuing the war. the most valuable trade, he argued, was north of the line, and the treaty merely applied sound economic principles and gave america "a share in the trade." the retention of her northwestern posts by great britain at the close of the war, in contravention of the treaty, has an obvious relation to the fur trade. in his negotiations with hammond, the british ambassador in , secretary of state jefferson said: "by these proceedings we have been intercepted entirely from the commerce of furs with the indian nations to the northward--a commerce which had ever been of great importance to the united states, not only for its intrinsic value, but as it was the means of cherishing peace with these indians, and of superseding the necessity of that expensive warfare which we have been obliged to carry on with them during the time that these posts have been in other hands."[ ] in discussing the evacuation of the posts in jay was met by a demand that complete freedom of the northwestern indian trade should be granted to british subjects. it was furthermore proposed by lord grenville[ ] that, "whereas it is now understood that the river mississippi would at no point thereof be intersected by such westward line as is described in the said treaty [ ]; and whereas it was stipulated in the said treaty that the navigation of the mississippi should be free to both parties"--one of two new propositions should be accepted regarding the northwestern boundary. the maps in american state papers, foreign relations, i., , show that both these proposals extended great britain's territory so as to embrace the grand portage and the lake region of northern minnesota, one of the best of the northwest company's fur-trading regions south of the line, and in connection by the red river with the canadian river systems.[ ] they were rejected by jay. secretary randolph urged him to hasten the removal of the british, stating that the delay asked for, to allow the traders to collect their indian debts, etc., would have a bad effect upon the indians, and protesting that free communication for the british would strike deep into our indian trade.[ ] the definitive treaty included the following provisions:[ ] the posts were to be evacuated before june , . "all settlers and traders, within the precincts or jurisdiction of the said posts, shall continue to enjoy, unmolested, all their property of every kind, and shall be protected therein. they shall be at full liberty to remain there, or to remove with all or any part of their effects; and it shall also be free to them to sell their lands, houses, or effects, or to retain the property thereof, at their discretion; such of them as shall continue to reside within the said boundary lines shall not be compelled to become citizens of the united states, or to take any oath of allegiance to the government thereof; but they shall be at full liberty to do so if they think proper, and they shall make and declare their election within one year after the evacuation aforesaid. and all persons who shall continue there after the expiration of the said year without having declared their intention of remaining subjects of his british majesty shall be considered as having elected to become citizens of the united states." "it is agreed that it shall at all times be free to his majesty's subjects, and to the indians dwelling on either side of the said boundary line, freely to pass and repass by land or inland navigation into the respective territories and countries of the two parties on the continent of america (the country within the limits of the hudson's bay company only excepted), and to navigate all the lakes, rivers and waters thereof, and freely to carry on trade and commerce with each other." in his elaborate defence of jay's treaty, alexander hamilton paid much attention to the question of the fur trade. defending jay for permitting so long a delay in evacuation and for granting right of entry into our fields, he minimized the value of the trade. so far from being worth $ , annually, he asserted the trade within our limits would not be worth $ , , seven-eighths of the traffic being north of the line. this estimate of the value of the northwestern trade was too low. in the course of his paper he made this observation:[ ] "in proportion as the article is viewed on an enlarged plan and permanent scale, its importance to us magnifies. who can say how far british colonization may spread southward and down the west side of the mississippi, northward and westward into the vast interior regions towards the pacific ocean?... in this large view of the subject, the fur trade, which has made a very prominent figure in the discussion, becomes a point scarcely visible. objects of great variety and magnitude start up in perspective, eclipsing the little atoms of the day, and promising to grow and mature with time." such was not the attitude of great britain. to her the northwest was desirable on account of its indian commerce. by a statement of the province of upper canada, sent with the approbation of lieutenant-general hunter to the duke of kent, commander-in-chief of british north america, in the year , we are enabled to see the situation through canadian eyes:[ ] "the indians, who had loudly and justly complained of a treaty [ ] in which they were sacrificed by a cession of their country contrary to repeated promises, were with difficulty appeased, however finding the posts retained and some assurances given they ceased to murmur and resolved to defend their country extending from the ohio northward to the great lakes and westward to the mississippi, an immense tract, in which they found the deer, the bear, the wild wolf, game of all sorts in profusion. they employed the tomahawk and scalping knife against such deluded settlers who on the faith of the treaty to which they did not consent, ventured to cross the ohio, secretly encouraged by the agents of government, supplied with arms, ammunition, and provisions they maintained an obstinate & destructive war against the states, cut off two corps sent against them.... the american government, discouraged by these disasters were desirous of peace on any terms, their deputies were sent to detroit, they offered to confine their pretensions within certain limits far south of the lakes. if this offer had been accepted the indian country would have been for ages an impassible barrier between us. twas unfortunately perhaps wantonly rejected, and the war continued." acting under the privileges accorded to them by jay's treaty, the british traders were in almost as complete possession of wisconsin until after the war of as if great britain still owned it. when the war broke out the keys of the region, detroit and michillimackinac, fell into the british hands. green bay and prairie du chien were settlements of french-british traders and voyageurs. their leader was robert dickson, who had traded at the latter settlement. writing in from his camp at winnebago lake, he says: "i think that bony [bonaparte] must be knocked up as all europe are now in arms. the crisis is not far off when i trust in god that the tyrant will be humbled, & the scoundrel american democrats be obliged to go down on their knees to britain."[ ] under him most of the wisconsin traders of importance received british commissions. in the spring of the americans took prairie du chien, at the mouth of the wisconsin river, whereupon col. m'douall, the british commandant at michillimackinac, wrote to general drummond:[ ] ... "i saw at once the imperious necessity which existed of endeavoring by every means to dislodge the american genl from his new conquest, and make him relinquish the immense tract of country he had seized upon in consequence & which brought him into the very heart of that occupied by our friendly indians, there was no alternative it must either be done or there was an end to our connection with the indians for if allowed to settle themselves by dint of threats bribes & sowing divisions among them, tribe after tribe would be gained over or subdued, & thus would be destroyed the only barrier which protects the great trading establishments of the north west and the hudson's bay companys. nothing could then prevent the enemy from gaining the source of the mississippi, gradually extending themselves by the red river to lake winnipic, from whense the descent of nelsons river to york fort would in time be easy." the british traders, voyageurs and indians[ ] dislodged the americans, and at the close of the war england was practically in possession of the indian country of the northwest. in the negotiations at ghent the british commissioners asserted the sovereignty of the indians over their lands, and their independence in relation to the united states, and demanded that a barrier of indian territory should be established between the two countries, free to the traffic of both nations but not open to purchase by either.[ ] the line of the grenville treaty was suggested as a basis for determining this indian region. the proposition would have removed from the sovereignty of the united states the territory of the northwest with the exception of about two-thirds of ohio,[ ] and given it over to the british fur traders. the americans declined to grant the terms, and the united states was finally left in possession of the northwest. footnotes: [footnote : va. hist. colls., n.s., ii, .] [footnote : n.y. col. docs., v., .] [footnote : indian relations had a noteworthy influence upon colonial union; see lucas, appendiculae historicae, , and frothingham, rise of the republic, ch. iv.] [footnote : parkman, montcalm and wolfe, i., ; sparks, washington's works, ii., .] [footnote : parkman, montcalm and wolfe, i., .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii., .] [footnote : bigelow, franklin's works, iii., , , - .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., i., - .] [footnote : parkman, pontiac, i., . consult n.y. col. docs., vi., , , , , .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., i., .] [footnote : carver, travels.] [footnote : porlier papers, wis. pur trade mss., in possession of wis. hist. soc.; also wis. hist. colls., iii., - .] [footnote : henry, travels.] [footnote : canadian archives, , p. ff.] [footnote : sparks, franklin's works, iv., - .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., xi.] [footnote : _ibid._] [footnote : jay, address before the n.y. hist. soc. on the treaty negotiations of - , appendix; map in narr. and crit. hist. amer., vii., .] [footnote : but vergennes had a just appreciation of the value of the region for settlement as well. he recognized and feared the american capacity for expansion.] [footnote : hansard, xxiii., - , - , , - , , - , , , , .] [footnote : american state papers, foreign relations, i., .] [footnote : _ibid._ .] [footnote : as early as the company had established a stockaded fort at sandy lake. after jay's treaty conceding freedom of entry, the company dotted this region with posts and raised the british flag over them. in the center of trade was changed from grand portage to fort william henry, on the canada side. neill, minnesota, ( th edn.). bancroft, northwest coast, i., . _vide ante_, p. , and _post_, p. .] [footnote : amer. state papers, for. rels., i., p. .] [footnote : treaties and conventions, etc., - , p. .] [footnote : lodge, hamilton's works, iv., .] [footnote : michigan pioneer colls., xv., ; cf. , , and xvi., .] [footnote : wis. fur trade mss., (state hist. soc.).] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., xl, . mich. pioneer colls., xvi., - .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., xl, . cf. mich. pioneer colls., xvi., . rolette, one of the prairie du chien traders, was tried by the british for treason to great britain.] [footnote : amer. state papers, for. rels., iii., .] [footnote : amer. state papers, ind. affs., l, . see map in collet's travels, atlas.] the northwest company. the most striking feature of the english period was the northwest company.[ ] from a study of it one may learn the character of the english occupation of the northwest.[ ] it was formed in and fully organized in , with the design of contesting the field with the hudson bay company. goods were brought from england to montreal, the headquarters of the company, and thence from the four emporiums, detroit, mackinaw, sault ste. marie, and grand portage, they were scattered through the great northwest, even to the pacific ocean. toward the end of the eighteenth century ships[ ] began to take part in this commerce; a portion of the goods was sent from montreal in boats to kingston, thence in vessels to niagara, thence overland to lake erie, to be reshipped in vessels to mackinaw and to sault ste. marie, where another transfer was made to a lake superior vessel. these ships were of about ninety-five tons burden and made four or five trips a season. but in the year the primitive mode of trade was not materially changed. from the traffic along the main artery of commerce between grand portage and montreal may be learned the kind of trade that flowed along such branches as that between the island of mackinaw and the wisconsin posts. the visitor at la chine rapids, near montreal, might have seen a squadron of northwestern trading canoes leaving for the grand portage, at the west of lake superior.[ ] the boatmen, or "engagés," having spent their season's gains in carousal, packed their blanket capotes and were ready for the wilderness again. they made a picturesque crew in their gaudy turbans, or hats adorned with plumes and tinsel, their brilliant handkerchiefs tied sailor-fashion about swarthy necks, their calico shirts, and their flaming worsted belts, which served to hold the knife and the tobacco pouch. rough trousers, leggings, and cowhide shoes or gaily-worked moccasins completed the costume. the trading birch canoe measured forty feet in length, with a depth of three and a width of five. it floated four tons of freight, and yet could be carried by four men over difficult portages. its crew of eight men was engaged at a salary[ ] of from five to eight hundred livres, about $ to $ per annum, each, with a yearly outfit of coarse clothing and a daily food allowance of a quart of hulled corn, or peas, seasoned with two ounces of tallow. the experienced voyageurs who spent the winters in the woods were called _hivernans_, or winterers, or sometimes _hommes du nord_; while the inexperienced, those who simply made the trip from montreal to the outlying depots and return, were contemptuously dubbed _mangeurs de lard_,[ ] "pork-eaters," because their pampered appetites demanded peas and pork rather than hulled corn and tallow. two of the crew, one at the bow and the other at the stern, being especially skilled in the craft of handling the paddle in the rapids, received higher wages than the rest. into the canoe was first placed the heavy freight, shot, axes, powder; next the dry goods, and, crowning all, filling the canoe to overflowing, came the provisions--pork, peas or corn, and sea biscuits, sewed in canvas sacks. the lading completed, the voyageur hung his votive offerings in the chapel of saint anne, patron saint of voyageurs, the paddles struck the waters of the st. lawrence, and the fleet of canoes glided away on its six weeks' journey to grand portage. there was the ottawa to be ascended, the rapids to be run, the portages where the canoe must be emptied and where each voyageur must bear his two packs of ninety pounds apiece, and there were the _décharges_, where the canoe was merely lightened and where the voyageurs, now on the land, now into the rushing waters, dragged it forward till the rapids were passed. there was no stopping to dry, but on, until the time for the hasty meal, or the evening camp-fire underneath the pines. every two miles there was a stop for a three minutes' smoke, or "pipe," and when a portage was made it was reckoned in "pauses," by which is meant the number of times the men must stop to rest. whenever a burial cross appeared, or a stream was left or entered, the voyageurs removed their hats, and made the sign of the cross while one of their number said a short prayer; and again the paddles beat time to some rollicking song.[ ] dans mon chemin, j'ai rencontré trois cavalières, bien montées; l'on, lon, laridon daine, lon, ton, laridon dai. trois cavalières, bien montées, l'un à cheval, et l'autre à pied; l'on, lon, laridon daine, lon, ton, laridon dai. arrived at sault ste. marie, the fleet was often doubled by newcomers, so that sometimes sixty canoes swept their way along the north shore, the paddles marking sixty strokes a minute, while the rocks gave back the echoes of canadian songs rolling out from five hundred lusty throats. and so they drew up at grand portage, near the present northeast boundary of minnesota, now a sleepy, squalid little village, but then the general rendezvous where sometimes over a thousand men met; for, at this time, the company had fifty clerks, seventy interpreters, eighteen hundred and twenty canoe-men, and thirty-five guides. it sent annually to montreal , beaver-skins, to say nothing of other peltries. when the proprietors from montreal met the proprietors from the northern posts, and with their clerks gathered at the banquet in their large log hall to the number of a hundred, the walls hung with spoils of the chase, the rough tables furnished with abundance of venison, fish, bread, salt pork, butter, peas, corn, potatoes, tea, milk, wine and _eau de vie_, while, outside, the motley crowd of engages feasted on hulled corn and melted fat--was it not a truly baronial scene? clerks and engagés of this company, or its rival, the hudson bay company, might winter one season in wisconsin and the next in the remote north. for example, amable grignon, a green bay trader, wintered in at lac qui parle in minnesota, the next year at lake athabasca, and the third in the hyperborean regions of great slave lake. in his engagement he figures as amable grignon, _of the parish of green bay, upper canada_, and he receives $ "and found in tobacco and shoes and two doges," besides "the usual equipment given to clerks." he afterwards returned to a post on the wisconsin river. the attitude of wisconsin traders toward the canadian authorities and the northwestern wilds is clearly shown in this document, which brings into a line upper canada, "the parish of green bay," and the hudson bay company's territories about great slave lake![ ] how widespread and how strong was the influence of these traders upon the savages may be easily imagined, and this commercial control was strengthened by the annual presents made to the indians by the british at their posts. at a time when our relations with great britain were growing strained, such a power in the northwest was a serious menace.[ ] in john jacob astor secured a charter from the state of new york, incorporating the american fur company. he proposed to consolidate the fur trade of the united states, plant an establishment in the contested oregon territory, and link it with michillimackinac (mackinaw island) by way of the missouri through a series of trading posts. in two expeditions of his pacific fur company set out for the columbia, the one around cape horn and the other by way of green bay and the missouri. in he bought a half interest in the mackinaw company, a rival of the northwest company and the one that had especial power in wisconsin and minnesota, and this new organization he called the southwest company. but the war of came; astoria, the pacific post, fell into the hands of the northwest company, while the southwest company's trade was ruined. footnotes: [footnote : on this company see mackenzie, voyages; bancroft, northwest coast, i., - , and citations; _hunt's merch. mag._, iii., ; irving, astoria; ross, the fur hunters of the far west; harmon, journal; report on the canadian archives, , p. et seq. this fur-trading life still goes on in the more remote regions of british america. see robinson, great fur land, ch. xv.] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., xi., - .] [footnote : mackenzie, voyages, xxxix. harmon, journal, . in the fall of , haldimand granted permission to the northwest company to build a small vessel at detroit, to be employed next year on lake superior. calendar of canadian archives, , p. .] [footnote : besides the authorities cited above, see "anderson's narrative," in wis. hist. colls., ix., - .] [footnote : an estimate of the cost of an expedition in is given in margry, vi., . at that time the wages of a good voyageur for a year amounted to about $ . provisions for the two months' trip from montreal to mackinaw cost about $ . per month per man. indian corn for a year cost $ ; lard, $ ; _eau de vie_, $ . ; tobacco, cents. it cost, therefore, less than $ to support a voyageur for one year's trip into the woods. gov. ninian edwards, writing at the time of the american fur company (_post_, p. ), says: "the whole expense of transporting eight thousand weight of goods from montreal to the mississippi, wintering with the indians, and returning with a load of furs and peltries in the succeeding season, including the cost of provisions and portages and the hire of five engages for the whole time does not exceed five hundred and twenty-five dollars, much of which is usually paid to those engages when in the indian country, in goods at an exorbitant price." american state papers, vi., .] [footnote : this distinction goes back at least to (n.y. col. docs., ix., ). often the engagement was for five years, and the voyageur might be transferred from one master to another, at the master's will. the following is a translation of a typical printed engagement, one of scores in the possession of the wisconsin historical society, the written portions in brackets: "before a notary residing at the post of michilimakinac, undersigned; was present [joseph lamarqueritte] who has voluntarily engaged and doth bind himself by these presents to m[onsieur louis grignion] here present and accepting, at [his] first requisition to set off from this post [in the capacity of winterer] in one of [his] canoes or bateaux to make the voyage [going as well as returning] and to winter for [two years at the bay]. "and to have due and fitting care on the route and while at the said [place] of the merchandise, provisions, peltries, utensils and of everything necessary for the voyage; to serve, obey and execute faithfully all that the said sieur [bourgeois] or any other person representing him to whom he may transport the present engagement, commands him lawfully and honestly; to do [his] profit, to avoid anything to his damage, and to inform him of it if it come to his knowledge, and generally to do all that a good [winterer] ought and is obliged to do; without power to make any particular trade, to absent himself, or to quit the said service, under pain of these ordinances, and of loss of wages. this engagement is therefore made, for the sum of [eight hundred] livres or shillings, ancient currency of quebec, that he promises [and] binds himself to deliver and pay to the said [winterer one month] after his return to this post, and at his departure [an equipment each year of shirts, blanket of point, carot of tobacco, cloth blanket, leather shirt, pair of leather breeches, pairs of leather shoes, and six pounds of soap.] "for thus, etc., promising, etc., binding, etc., renouncing, etc. "done and passed at the said [michilimackinac] in the year eighteen hundred [seven] the [twenty-fourth] of [july before] twelve o'clock; & have signed with the exception of the said [winterer] who, having declared himself unable to do so, has made his ordinary mark after the engagement was read to him. his "joseph x lamarqueritte. [seal] mark. louis geignon. [seal] "saml. abbott, not. pub." endorsed--"engagement of joseph lamarqueritte to louis grignon."] [footnote : for canadian boat-songs see _hunt's merch. mag._, iii., ; mrs. kinzie, wau bun; bela hubbard, memorials of a half-century; robinson, great fur land.] [footnote : wis. fur trade mss. (wis. hist. soc.). published in proceedings of the thirty-sixth annual meeting of the state hist. soc. of wis. , pp. - .] [footnote : see mich. pioneer colls., xv., xvi., , . the government consulted the northwest company, who made particular efforts to "prevent the americans from ever alienating the minds of the indians." to this end they drew up memoirs regarding the proper frontiers.] american influences. although the green bay court of justice, such as it was, had been administered under american commissions since , when reaume dispensed a rude equity under a commission of justice of the peace from governor harrison,[ ] neither green bay nor the rest of wisconsin had any proper appreciation of its american connections until the close of this war. but now occurred these significant events: . astor's company was reorganized as the american fur company, with headquarters at mackinaw island.[ ] . the united states enacted in that neither foreign fur traders, nor capital for that trade, should be admitted to this country.[ ] this was designed to terminate english influence among the tribes, and it fostered astor's company. the law was so interpreted as not to exclude british (that is generally, french) interpreters and boatmen, who were essential to the company; but this interpretation enabled british subjects to evade the law and trade on their own account by having their invoices made out to some yankee clerk, while they accompanied the clerk in the guise of interpreters.[ ] in this way a number of yankees came to the state. . in the year united states garrisons were sent to green bay and prairie du chien.[ ] . in the united states provided for locating government trading posts at these two places. footnotes: [footnote : reaume's petition in wis. fur trade mss. in possession of wisconsin historical society.] [footnote : on this company consult irving, astoria; bancroft, northwest coast, i., ch. xvi.; ii., chs. vii-x; _mag. amer. hist._ xiii., ; franchere, narrative; ross, adventures of the first settlers on the oregon, or columbia river ( ); wis. fur trade mss. (state hist. sec.).] [footnote : u.s. statutes at large, iii., . cf. laws in and .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., i., ; minn. hist. colls., v., . the warren brothers, who came to wisconsin in , were descendants of the pilgrims and related to joseph warren who fell at bunker hill; they came from berkshire, mass., and marrying the half-breed daughters of michael cadotte, of la pointe, succeeded to his trade.] [footnote : see the objections of british traders, mich. pioneer colls., xvi., ff. the northwest company tried to induce the british government to construe the treaty so as to prevent the united states from erecting the forts, urging that a fort at prairie du chien would "deprive the indians of their 'rights and privileges'", guaranteed by the treaty.] government trading houses. the system of public trading houses goes back to colonial days. at first in plymouth and jamestown all industry was controlled by the commonwealth, and in massachusetts bay the stock company had reserved the trade in furs for themselves before leaving england.[ ] the trade was frequently farmed out, but public "truck houses" were established by the latter colony as early as - .[ ] franklin, in his public dealings with the ohio indians, saw the importance of regulation of the trade, and in he wrote asking james bowdoin of massachusetts to procure him a copy of the truckhouse law of that colony, saying that if it had proved to work well he thought of proposing it for pennsylvania.[ ] the reply of bowdoin showed that massachusetts furnished goods to the indians at wholesale prices and so drove out the french and the private traders. in virginia adopted the system for a time,[ ] and in the continental congress accepted a plan presented by a committee of which franklin was a member,[ ] whereby £ , sterling was expended at the charge of the united colonies for indian goods to be sold at moderate prices by factors of the congressional commissioners.[ ] the bearing of this act upon the governmental powers of the congress is worth noting. in his messages of and president washington urged the need of promoting and regulating commerce with the indians, and in he advocated government trading houses. pickering, of massachusetts, who was his secretary of war with the management of indian affairs, may have strengthened washington in this design, for he was much interested in indian improvement, but washington's own experience had shown him the desirability of some such plan, and he had written to this effect as early as .[ ] the objects of congressional policy in dealing with the indians were stated by speakers in as follows:[ ] . protection of the frontiersmen from the indians, by means of the army. . protection of the indians from the frontiersmen, by laws regulating settlement. . detachment of the indians from foreign influence, by trading houses where goods could be got cheaply. in a small appropriation was made for trying the experiment of public trading houses,[ ] and in , the same year that the british evacuated the posts, the law which established the system was passed.[ ] it was to be temporary, but by re-enactments with alterations it was prolonged until , new posts being added from time to time. in substance the laws provided a certain capital for the indian trade, the goods to be sold by salaried united states factors, at posts in the indian country, at such rates as would protect the savage from the extortions of the individual trader, whose actions sometimes provoked hostilities, and would supplant british influence over the indian. at the same time it was required that the capital stock should not be diminished. in the course of the debate over the law in considerable _laissez faire_ sentiment was called out against the government's becoming a trader, notwithstanding that the purpose of the bill was benevolence and political advantage rather than financial gain.[ ] president jefferson and secretary calhoun were friends of the system.[ ] it was a failure, however, and under the attacks of senator benton, the indian agents and the american fur company, it was brought to an end in . the causes of its failure were chiefly these:[ ] the private trader went to the hunting grounds of the savages, while the government's posts were fixed. the private traders gave credit to the indians, which the government did not.[ ] the private trader understood the indians, was related to them by marriage, and was energetic and not over-scrupulous. the government trader was a salaried agent not trained to the work. the private trader sold whiskey and the government did not. the british trader's goods were better than those of the government. the best business principles were not always followed by the superintendent. the system was far from effecting its object, for the northwestern indians had been accustomed to receive presents from the british authorities, and had small respect for a government that traded. upon wisconsin trade from to its influence was slight. footnotes: [footnote : mass. coll. recs., i., : iii., .] [footnote : acts and resolves of the prov. of mass. bay, i., .] [footnote : bigelow, franklin's works, ii., , . a plan for public trading houses came before the british ministry while franklin was in england, and was commented upon by him for their benefit.] [footnote : hening, statutes, vii., .] [footnote : journals of congress, , pp. , , .] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. .] [footnote : ford's washington's writings, x., .] [footnote : annals of cong., iv., ; cf. _ibid._, v., .] [footnote : amer. state papers, ind. affs., i., .] [footnote : annals of cong., vi., .] [footnote : annals of congress, v., ff., ; abridgment of debates, vii., - .] [footnote : amer. state papers, ind. affs., i., ; ii., .] [footnote : amer. state papers, vi., ind. affs., ii., ; ind. treaties, _et seq._; wis. hist. colls., vii., ; _washington gazette_, , , articles by ramsay crooks under signature "backwoodsman," and speech of tracy in house of representatives, february , ; benton, thirty years view; _id._, abr. deb., vii., .] [footnote : to understand the importance of these two points see _post_, pp. - .] wisconsin trade in .[ ] the goods used in the indian trade remained much the same from the first, in all sections of the country.[ ] they were chiefly blankets, coarse cloths, cheap jewelry and trinkets (including strings of wampum), fancy goods (like ribbons, shawls, etc.), kettles, knives, hatchets, guns, powder, tobacco, and intoxicating liquor.[ ] these goods, shipped from mackinaw, at first came by canoes or bateaux,[ ] and in the later period by vessel, to a leading post, were there redivided[ ] and sent to the various trading posts. the indians, returning from the hunting grounds to their villages in the spring,[ ] set the squaws to making maple sugar,[ ] planting corn, watermelons, potatoes, squashes, etc., and a little hunting was carried on. the summer was given over to enjoyment, and in the early period to wars. in the autumn they collected their wild rice, or their corn, and again were ready to start for the hunting grounds, sometimes miles distant. at this juncture the trader, licensed by an indian agent, arrived upon the scene with his goods, without which no family could subsist, much less collect any quantity of furs.[ ] these were bought on credit by the hunter, since he could not go on the hunt for the furs, whereby he paid for his supplies, without having goods and ammunition advanced for the purpose. this system of credits,[ ] dating back to the french period, had become systematized so that books were kept, with each indian's account. the amount to which the hunter was trusted was between $ and $ , at cost prices, upon which the trader expected a gain of about per cent, so that the average annual value of furs brought in by each hunter to pay his credits should have been between $ and $ .[ ] the amount of the credit varied with the reputation of the hunter for honesty and ability in the chase.[ ] sometimes he was trusted to the amount of three hundred dollars. if one-half the credits were paid in the spring the trader thought that he had done a fair business. the importance of this credit system can hardly be overestimated in considering the influence of the fur trade upon the indians of wisconsin, and especially in rendering them dependent upon the earlier settlements of the state. the system left the indians at the mercy of the trader when one nation monopolized the field, and it compelled them to espouse the cause of one or other when two nations contended for supremacy over their territory. at the same time it rendered the trade peculiarly adapted to monopoly, for when rivals competed, the trade was demoralized, and the indian frequently sold to a new trader the furs which he had pledged in advance for the goods of another. when the american fur company gained control, they systematized matters so that there was no competition between their own agents, and private dealers cut into their trade but little for some years. the unit of trade was at first the beaver skin, or, as the pound of beaver skin came to be called, the "plus."[ ] the beaver skin was estimated at a pound and a half, though it sometimes weighed two, in which case an allowance was made. wampum was used for ornament and in treaty-making, but not as currency. other furs or indian commodities, like maple sugar and wild rice, were bought in terms of beaver. as this animal grew scarcer the unit changed to money. by , when few beaver were marketed in wisconsin, the term plus stood for one dollar.[ ] the muskrat skin was also used as the unit in the later days of the trade.[ ] in the southern colonies the pound of deer skin had answered the purpose of a unit.[ ] the goods being trusted to the indians, the bands separated for the hunting grounds. among the chippeways, at least, each family or group had a particular stream or region where it exclusively hunted and trapped.[ ] not only were the hunting grounds thus parcelled out; certain indians were apportioned to certain traders,[ ] so that the industrial activities of wisconsin at this date were remarkably systematic and uniform. sometimes the trader followed the indians to their hunting grounds. from time to time he sent his engagés (hired men), commonly five or six in number, to the various places where the hunting bands were to be found, to collect furs on the debts and to sell goods to those who had not received too large credits, and to the customers of rival traders; this was called "running a deouine."[ ] the main wintering post had lesser ones, called "jack-knife posts,"[ ] depending on it, where goods were left and the furs gathered in going to and from the main post. by these methods wisconsin was thoroughly visited by the traders before the "pioneers" arrived.[ ] the kind and amount of furs brought in may be judged by the fact that in , long after the best days of the trade, a single green bay firm, porlier and grignon, shipped to the american fur company about deer skins, muskrats, bears, raccoons, besides beavers, otters, fishers, martens, lynxes, foxes, wolves, badgers, skunks, etc., amounting to over $ . none of these traders became wealthy; astor's company absorbed the profits. it required its clerks, or factors, to pay an advance of - / per cent on the sterling cost of the blankets, strouds, and other english goods, in order to cover the cost of importation and the expense of transportation from new york to mackinaw. articles purchased in new york were charged with - / per cent advance for transportation, and each class of purchasers was charged with - / per cent advance as profit on the aggregate amount.[ ] i estimate, from the data given in the sources cited on page , note, that in between $ , and $ , worth of goods was brought annually to wisconsin for the indian trade. an average outfit for a single clerk at a main post was between $ and $ , and for the dependent posts between $ and $ . there were probably not over indian hunters in the state, and the total indian population did not much exceed , . comparing this number with the early estimates for the same tribes, we find that, if the former are trustworthy, by the indian tribes that remained in wisconsin had increased their numbers. but the material is too unsatisfactory to afford any valuable conclusion. after the sale of their lands and the receipt of money annuities, a change came over the indian trade. the monopoly held by astor was broken into, and as competition increased, the sales of whiskey were larger, and for money, which the savage could now pay. when the indians went to montreal in the days of the french, they confessed that they could not return with supplies because they wasted their furs upon brandy. the same process now went on at their doors. the traders were not dependent upon the indian's success in hunting alone; they had his annuities to count on, and so did not exert their previous influence in favor of steady hunting. moreover, the game was now exploited to a considerable degree, so that wisconsin was no longer the hunter's paradise that it had been in the days of dablon and la salle. the long-settled economic life of the indian being revolutionized, his business honesty declined, and credits were more frequently lost. the annuities fell into the traders' hands for debts and whiskey. "there is no less than near $ , of claims against the winnebagoes," writes a green bay trader at prairie du chien, in , "so that if they are all just, the dividend will be but very small for each claimant, as there is only $ , to pay that."[ ] by this time the influence of the fur trader had so developed mining in the region of dubuque, iowa, galena, ill., and southwestern wisconsin, as to cause an influx of american miners, and here began a new element of progress for wisconsin. the knowledge of these mines was possessed by the early french explorers, and as the use of firearms spread they were worked more and more by indians, under the stimulus of the trader. in nicholas boilvin, united states indian agent at prairie du chien, reported that the indians about the lead mines had mostly abandoned the chase and turned their attention to the manufacture of lead, which they sold to fur traders. in there were at least white miners in the entire lead region,[ ] and by they numbered in the thousands. black hawk's war came in , and agricultural settlement sought the southwestern part of the state after that campaign. the traders opened country stores, and their establishments were nuclei of settlement.[ ] in wisconsin the indian trading post was a thing of the past. the birch canoe and the pack-horse had had their day in western new york and about montreal. in wisconsin the age of the voyageur continued nearly through the first third of this century. it went on in the far northwest in substantially the same fashion that has been here described, until quite recently; and in the great north land tributary to hudson bay the _chanson_ of the voyageur may still be heard, and the dog-sledge laden with furs jingles across the snowy plains from distant post to distant post.[ ] footnotes: [footnote : in an address before the state historical society of wisconsin, on the character and influence of the fur trade in wisconsin (proceedings, , pp. - ), i have given details as to wisconsin settlements, posts, routes of trade, and indian location and population in .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., xi., . compare the articles used by radisson, _ante_, p. . for la salle's estimate of amount and kind of goods needed for a post, and the profits thereon, see penna. archives, d series, vi., - . brandy was an important item, one beaver selling for a pint. for goods and cost in see a bill quoted by e.d. neill, on p. , _mag. west. hist._, nov., , cf. mass. hist. colls., iii., ; byrd manuscripts, i., ff.; minn. hist. colls., ii., ; senate doc. no. , d cong., st sess., ii., ff.] [footnote : wis. fur trade mss. cf. wis. hist. colls., xi., , and amer. state papers, ind. affs., ii., . the amount of liquor taken to the woods was very great. the french jesuits had protested against its use in vain (parkman's old régime); the united states prohibited it to no purpose. it was an indispensable part of a trader's outfit. robert stuart, agent of the american fur company at mackinaw, once wrote to john lawe, one of the leading traders at green bay, that the bbls. of whiskey which he sends is "enough to last two years, and half drown all the indians he deals with." see also wis. hist. colls., vii., ; mckenney's tour to the lakes, , - ; mckenney's memoirs, i., - . an old trader assured me that it was the custom to give five or six gallons of "grog"--one-fourth water--to the hunter when he paid his credits; he thought that only about one-eighth or one-ninth part of the whole sales was in whiskey.] [footnote : a light boat sometimes called a "mackinaw boat," about feet long, by - / to feet wide amidships, and sharp at the ends.] [footnote : see wis. hist. colls., ii., .] [footnote : minn. hist. colls., v., .] [footnote : see wis. hist. colls., vii., , ; iii., ; mckenney's tour, ; schoolcraft, ind. tribes, ii., . sometimes a family made lbs. in a season.] [footnote : lewis cass in senate docs., no. , d cong., st sess., ii., .] [footnote : see d'iberville's plans for relocating indian tribes by denying them credit at certain posts, margry, iv., . the system was used by the dutch, and the puritans also; see weeden, economic and social hist. new eng., i., . in , after the french and indian war, the chippeways of chequamegon bay told henry, a british trader, that unless he advanced them goods on credit, "their wives and children would perish; for that there were neither ammunition nor clothing left among them." he distributed goods worth beaver skins. henry, travels, - . cf. neill, minnesota, - ; n.y. col. docs., vii., ; amer. state papers, ind. affs., ii., , , , - ; _north american review_, jan., , p. .] [footnote : biddle, an indian agent, testified in that while the cost of transporting wt. from new york to green bay did not exceed five dollars, which would produce a charge of less than percent on the original cost, the united states factor charged per cent additional. the united states capital stock was diminished by this trade, however. the private dealers charged much more. schoolcraft in estimated that $ . in goods and provisions at cost prices was the average annual supply of each hunter, or $ . to each soul. the substantial accuracy of this is sustained by my data. see sen. doc., no. , d cong., st sess., ii., ; state papers, no. , th cong., st sess., i.; state papers, no. , th cong., d sess., iii.; schoolcraft's indian tribes, iii., ; invoice book, amer. fur co., for , ; wis. fur trade mss. in possession of wisconsin historical society.] [footnote : the following is a typical account, taken from the books of jacques porlier, of green bay, for the year : the indian michel bought on credit in the fall: $ worth of cloth; a trap, $ . ; two and a half yards of cotton, $ . - / ; three measures of powder, $ . ; lead, $ . ; a bottle of whiskey, cents, and some other articles, such as a gun worm, making in all a bill of about $ . this he paid in full by bringing in eighty-five muskrats, worth nearly $ ; a fox, $ . , and a mocock of maple sugar, worth $ . .] [footnote : a.j. vieau, who traded in the thirties, gave me this information.] [footnote : for the value of the beaver at different periods and places consult indexes, under "beaver," in n.y. col. docs,; bancroft, northwest coast; weeden, economic and social hist. new eng.; and see morgan, american beaver, - ; henry, travels, ; penna. archives, vi., ; servent, in paris ex. univ. , rapports, vi., , ; proc. wis. state hist. soc., , p. .] [footnote : minn. hist. colls. ii., , gives the following table for : _st. louis prices._ _minn. price._ _nett gain._ three pt. blanket = $ rat skins at cents = $ $ - / yds. stroud = rat skins at cents = n.w. gun = rat skins at cents = lb. lead = rat skins at cents = lb. powder = rat skins at cents = tin kettle = rat skins at cents = knife = rat skins at cents = lb. tobacco = rat skins at cents = looking glass = rat skins at cents = - / yd. scarlet cloth = rat skins at cents = see also the table of prices in senate docs., no. , d cong., st sess.; ii., _et seq._] [footnote : douglass, summary, i., .] [footnote : morgan, american beaver, .] [footnote : proc. wis. hist. soc., , pp. - .] [footnote : amer. state papers, ind. affs., ii., .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., xi., , .] [footnote : the centers of wisconsin trade were green bay, prairie du chien, and la pointe (on madelaine island, chequamegon bay). lesser points of distribution were milwaukee and portage. from these places, by means of the interlacing rivers and the numerous lakes of northern wisconsin, the whole region was visited by birch canoes or mackinaw boats.] [footnote : schoolcraft in senate doc. no. , d cong., st sess., ii,. .] [footnote : lawe to vieau, in wis. fur trade mss. see also u.s. indian treaties, and wis. hist. colls., v., .] [footnote : house ex. docs., th cong., d sess., ii., no. .] [footnote : for example see the vieau narrative in wis. hist. colls., xi., and the wis. fur trade mss.] [footnote : butler, wild north land; robinson, great fur land, ch. xv.] effects of the trading post. we are now in a position to offer some conclusions as to the influence of the indian trading post. i. upon the savage it had worked a transformation. it found him without iron, hunting merely for food and raiment. it put into his hands iron and guns, and made him a hunter for furs with which to purchase the goods of civilization. thus it tended to perpetuate the hunter stage; but it must also be noted that for a time it seemed likely to develop a class of merchants who should act as intermediaries solely. the inter-tribal trade between montreal and the northwest, and between albany and the illinois and ohio country, appears to have been commerce in the proper sense of the term[ ] (_kauf zum verkauf_). the trading post left the unarmed tribes at the mercy of those that had bought firearms, and this caused a relocation of the indian tribes and an urgent demand for the trader by the remote and unvisited indians. it made the indian dependent on the white man's supplies. the stage of civilization that could make a gun and gunpowder was too far above the bow and arrow stage to be reached by the indian. instead of elevating him the trade exploited him. but at the same time, when one nation did not monopolize the trade, or when it failed to regulate its own traders, the trading post gave to the indians the means of resistance to agricultural settlement. the american settlers fought for their farms in kentucky and tennessee at a serious disadvantage, because for over half a century the creeks and cherokees had received arms and ammunition from the trading posts of the french, the spanish and the english. in wisconsin the settlers came after the indian had become thoroughly dependent on the american traders, and so late that no resistance was made. the trading post gradually exploited the indian's hunting ground. by intermarriages with the french traders the purity of the stock was destroyed and a mixed race produced.[ ] the trader broke down the old totemic divisions, and appointed chiefs regardless of the indian social organization, to foster his trade. indians and traders alike testify that this destruction of indian institutions was responsible for much of the difficulty in treating with them, the tribe being without a recognized head.[ ] the sale of their lands, made less valuable by the extinction of game, gave them a new medium of exchange, at the same time that, under the rivalry of trade, the sale of whiskey increased. ii. upon the white man the effect of the indian trading post was also very considerable. the indian trade gave both english and french a footing in america. but for the indian supplies some of the most important settlements would have perished.[ ] it invited to exploration: the dream of a water route to india and of mines was always present in the more extensive expeditions, but the effective practical inducement to opening the water systems of the interior, and the thing that made exploration possible, was the fur trade. as has been shown, the indian eagerly invited the trader. up to a certain point also the trade fostered the advance of settlements. as long as they were in extension of trade with the indians they were welcomed. the trading posts were the pioneers of many settlements along the entire colonial frontier. in wisconsin the sites of our principal cities are the sites of old trading posts, and these earliest fur-trading settlements furnished supplies to the farming, mining and lumbering pioneers. they were centers about which settlement collected after the exploitation of the indian. although the efforts of the indians and of the great trading companies, whose profits depended upon keeping the primitive wilderness, were to obstruct agricultural settlement, as the history of the northwest and of british america shows, nevertheless reports brought back by the individual trader guided the steps of the agricultural pioneer. the trader was the farmer's pathfinder into some of the richest regions of the continent. both favorably and unfavorably the influence of the indian trade on settlement was very great. the trading post was the strategic point in the rivalry of france and england for the northwest. the american colonists came to know that the land was worth more than the beaver that built in the streams, but the mother country fought for the northwest as the field of indian trade in all the wars from to . the management of the indian trade led the government under the lead of franklin and washington into trading on its own account, a unique feature of its policy. it was even proposed by the indian superintendent at one time that the government should manufacture the goods for this trade. in providing a new field for the individual trader, whom he expected the government trading houses to dispossess, jefferson proposed the lewis and clarke expedition, which crossed the continent by way of the missouri and the columbia, as the british trader, mackenzie, had before crossed it by way of canadian rivers. the genesis of this expedition illustrates at once the comprehensive western schemes of jefferson, and the importance of the part played by the fur trade in opening the west. in , while the annapolis convention was discussing the navigation of the potomac, jefferson wrote to washington from paris inquiring about the best place for a canal between the ohio and the great lakes.[ ] this was in promotion of the project of ledyard, a connecticut man, who was then in paris endeavoring to interest the wealthiest house there in the fur trade of the far west. jefferson took so great an interest in the plan that he secured from the house a promise that if they undertook the scheme the depot of supply should be at alexandria, on the potomac river, which would be in connection with the ohio, if the canal schemes of the time were carried out. after the failure of the negotiations of ledyard, jefferson proposed to him to cross russia to kamschatka, take ship to nootka sound, and thence return to the united states by way of the missouri.[ ] ledyard was detained in russia by the authorities in spite of jefferson's good offices, and the scheme fell through. but jefferson himself asserts that this suggested the idea of the lewis and clarke expedition, which he proposed to congress as a means of fostering our indian trade.[ ] bearing in mind his instructions to this party, that they should see whether the oregon furs might not be shipped down the missouri instead of passing around cape horn, and the relation of his early canal schemes to this design, we see that he had conceived the project of a transcontinental fur trade which should center in virginia. astor's subsequent attempt to push through a similar plan resulted in the foundation of his short-lived post of astoria at the mouth of the columbia. this occupation greatly aided our claim to the oregon country as against the british traders, who had reached the region by way of the northern arm of the columbia. in wisconsin, at least, the traders' posts, placed at the carrying places around falls and rapids, pointed out the water powers of the state. the portages between rivers became canals, or called out canal schemes that influenced the early development of the state. when washington, at the close of his military service, inspected the mohawk valley and the portages between the headwaters of the potomac and the ohio, as the channels "of conveyance of the extensive and valuable trade of a rising empire,"[ ] he stood between two eras--the era with which he was personally familiar, when these routes had been followed by the trader with the savage tribes,[ ] and the era which he foresaw, when american settlement passed along the same ways to the fertile west and called into being the great trunk-lines of the present day.[ ] the trails became the early roads. an old indian trader relates that "the path between green bay and milwaukee was originally an indian trail, and very crooked, but the whites would straighten it by cutting across lots each winter with their jumpers, wearing bare streaks through the thin covering, to be followed in the summer by foot and horseback travel along the shortened path."[ ] the process was typical of a greater one. along the lines that nature had drawn the indians traded and warred; along their trails and in their birch canoes the trader passed, bringing a new and a transforming life. these slender lines of eastern influence stretched throughout all our vast and intricate water-system, even to the gulf of mexico, the pacific, and the arctic seas, and these lines were in turn followed by agricultural and by manufacturing civilization. in a speech upon the pacific railway delivered in the united states senate in , senator benton used these words: "there is an idea become current of late ... that none but a man of science, bred in a school, can lay off a road. that is a mistake. there is a class of topographical engineers older than the schools, and more unerring than the mathematics. they are the wild animals--buffalo, elk, deer, antelope, bears, which traverse the forest, not by compass, but by an instinct which leads them always the right way--to the lowest passes in the mountains, the shallowest fords in the rivers, the richest pastures in the forest, the best salt springs, and the shortest practicable routes between remote points. they travel thousands of miles, have their annual migrations backwards and forwards, and never miss the best and shortest route. these are the first engineers to lay out a road in a new country; the indians follow them, and hence a buffalo-road becomes a war-path. the first white hunters follow the same trails in pursuing their game; and after that the buffalo-road becomes the wagon-road of the white man, and finally the macadamized or railroad of the scientific man. it all resolves itself into the same thing--into the same buffalo-road; and thence the buffalo becomes the first and safest engineer. thus it has been here in the countries which we inhabit and the history of which is so familiar. the present national road from cumberland over the alleghanies was the military road of general braddock; which had been the buffalo-path of the wild animals. so of the two roads from western virginia to kentucky--one through the gap in the cumberland mountains, the other down the valley of the kenhawa. they were both the war-path of the indians and the travelling route of the buffalo, and their first white acquaintances the early hunters. buffaloes made them in going from the salt springs on the holston to the rich pastures and salt springs of kentucky; indians followed them first, white hunters afterwards--and that is the way kentucky was discovered. in more than a hundred years no nearer or better routes have been found; and science now makes her improved roads exactly where the buffalo's foot first marked the way and the hunter's foot afterwards followed him. so all over kentucky and the west; and so in the rocky mountains. the famous south pass was no scientific discovery. some people think frémont discovered it. it had been discovered forty years before--long before he was born. he only described it and confirmed what the hunters and traders had reported and what they showed him. it was discovered, or rather first seen by white people, in , two years after the return of lewis and clark, and by the first company of hunters and traders that went out after their report laid open the prospect of the fur trade in the rocky mountains. "an enterprising spaniard of st. louis, manuel lisa, sent out the party; an acquaintance and old friend of the senator from wisconsin who sits on my left [general henry dodge] led the party--his name andrew henry. he was the first man that saw that pass; and he found it in the prosecution of his business, that of a hunter and trader, and by following the game and the road which they had made. and that is the way all passes are found. but these traders do not write books and make maps, but they enable other people to do it."[ ] benton errs in thinking that the hunter was the pioneer in kentucky. as i have shown, the trader opened the way. but benton is at least valid authority upon the great west, and his fundamental thesis has much truth in it. a continuously higher life flowed into the old channels, knitting the united states together into a complex organism. it is a process not limited to america. in every country the exploitation of the wild beasts,[ ] and of the raw products generally, causes the entry of the disintegrating and transforming influences of a higher civilization. "the history of commerce is the history of the intercommunication of peoples." footnotes: [footnote : notwithstanding kulischer's assertion that there is no room for this in primitive society. _vide_ der handel auf den primitiven culturstufen, in _zeitschrift für völkerpsychologie und sprachwissenschaft_, x., no. , p. . compare instances of inter-tribal trade given _ante_, pp. , .] [footnote : on the "_metis_," _boís-brulés_, or half-breeds, consult smithsonian reports, , p. , and robinson, great fur land, ch. iii.] [footnote : minn. hist. colls., v., ; biddle to atkinson, , in ind. pamphlets, vol. i, no. (wis. hist. soc. library).] [footnote : parkman, pioneers of france, ; carr, mounds of the mississippi, p. , n. ; smith's generall historie, i., , , (richmond, ).] [footnote : jefferson, works, ii., , , .] [footnote : allen's lewis and clarke expedition, p. ix (edition of . the introduction is by jefferson).] [footnote : jefferson's messages of january , , and february , . see amer. state papers, ind. affs., i., .] [footnote : see adams, maryland's influence upon land cessions to u.s., j.h.u. studies, d series, no. i., pp. - .] [footnote : _ibid._ _vide ante_, p. .] [footnote : narr. and crit. hist. amer., viii., . compare adams, as above. at jefferson's desire, in january and february of , washington wrote various letters inquiring as to the feasibility of a canal between lake erie and the ohio, "whereby the fur and peltry of the upper country can be transported"; saying: "could a channel once be opened to convey the fur and peltry from the lakes into the eastern country, its advantages would be so obvious as to induce an opinion that it would in a short time become the channel of conveyance for much the greater part of the commodities brought from thence." sparks, washington's works, ix., , .] [footnote : wis. hist. colls., xi., .] [footnote : cong. rec., xxiii., . i found this interesting confirmation of my views after this paper was written. compare _harper's magazine_, sept. , p. .] [footnote : the traffic in furs in the middle ages was enormous, says friedlander, sittengeschichte, iii., . numerous cities in england and on the continent, whose names are derived from the word "beaver" and whose seals bear the beaver, testify to the former importance in europe of this animal; see _canadian journal_, , . see du chaillu, viking age, - ; marco polo, bk. iv., ch. xxi. "wattenbach, in _historische zeitschrift_, ix., , shows that german traders were known in the lands about the baltic at least as early as the knights.] wisconsin in story and song selections from the prose and poetry of badger state writers edited by charles ralph rounds head of the department of english of the milwaukee state normal school and henry sherman hippensteel head of the department of english and director of high school teacher training of the stevens point normal school publishers the parker educational company madison, wisconsin copyright, by the parker educational co., madison, wisconsin _to the authors of today and of former days, whose genius and co-operation have made this book possible, and to the young people who may, by reading these pages, be inspired to carry the banner of our state still farther into the realm of literature, wisconsin in story and song is affectionately dedicated._ table of contents. page general wisconsin writers. hamlin garland - haying time, among the corn rows, ploughing, ladrone, the toil of the trail, the blue jay, pom pom pull away, the old-fashioned threshing in green's coolly. general charles king - ray's ride for life (from "marion's faith"), the final blow. john muir - snow banners. ella wheeler wilcox - the two glasses, the kingdom of love, the tendril's fate, three friends, ambitions' trail, morning prayer, i am, which are you? ray stannard baker - through the air, marconi and his great achievements--new experiments in wireless telegraphy, the roping at pasco's. "david grayson" - an argument with a millionaire. zona gale - why?, the holy place, friendship village. eben eugene rexford - watering plants, tea roses for beds, the old village choir, the two singers, the unfruitful tree, a day in june, silver threads among the gold, when silver threads are gold again. carl schurz - selections from his reminiscences, the true americanism. honorÉ willsie - the forbidden north, a story of a great dane puppy. edna ferber - steeped in german. george l. teeple - the battle of gray's pasture. george byron merrick - old times on the upper mississippi. hattie tyng griswold - john g. whittier. albert h. sanford - the story of agriculture in the united states. charles d. stewart - on a moraine. elliott flower - the impractical man. jenkin lloyd jones - nuggets from a welsh mine. everett mcneil - mother's wolf story. the university group. president charles r. van hise - the future of man in america. dean e. a. birge - milton. rasmus b. anderson - bjarne herjulfson, . reuben gold thwaites - the discovery of wisconsin. frederick j. turner - the significance of the frontier in american history. paul s. reinsch - the new education of china. george c. comstock - astrology in life and literature. j. f. a. pyre - byron in our day. edward a. ross - the conflict of oriental and western cultures in china. grant showerman - a lad's recollections of his boyhood haunts and experiences in the earlier days. william e. leonard - the glory of the morning, love afar, the image of delight, a dedication. thomas h. dickinson - in hospital. william j. neidig - the buoy-bell. braley--winslow--jones - sometimes, the pioneers, a little book of local verse. joseph p. webster sweet bye and bye. writers of local distinction. sheriff, bond, thomson, whitney, baer, henderson, adams, plantz, carlton, moore, lathrop, manville, blaisdell, nagle, chase, davidson, brown, wheeler - other wisconsin writers and their works. names only without selections wisconsin humorists. lute a. taylor - "bill" nye - george w. peck - william f. kirk - preface. in preparing this book the editors have had two main purposes in view. their first purpose has been to furnish some definite knowledge concerning literary productions of wisconsin people. they have been surprised, and they feel that their readers will be surprised, to find how many authors of national repute have been intimately associated with wisconsin life; and further, to find that many writers who have not as yet gained fame outside the state have written things that are beyond doubt highly creditable. the second purpose has been to kindle the surprise just mentioned into wholesome effort, particularly among our young people, to appreciate what literature is and how it is produced, and to encourage these readers to study the life round about them with a view to expressing their observations in literary language. in other words, they hope that this book may stimulate wisconsin authors to still greater literary activity. the difficulties in the preparation of such a compilation as this may be readily imagined. first, there is the problem of selection or rejection on account of geographical eligibility. the editors have not drawn the line at nativity or at present residence, but have rather defined it thus: anyone who, in his mature life, has become identified with wisconsin, both through residence and through literary, educational, or other activity, is geographically eligible. literary eligibility is still more difficult to determine. in general, the editors have been guided in their decisions by the judgment of the reading public, which is, after all, in many ways one of the best critics. there is, however, the problem of early writers who had considerable vogue in their day; and likewise that of young authors whose works are just now beginning to appear. they can scarcely hope to have done exact justice in either one of these two fields. new writers of promise are arising. perhaps some that have held the center of the stage will soon have to give place. literary estimates are inherently a changing quantity. absolutely just criticism of today will be warped judgment tomorrow. further, it is possible that there may be serious oversight in this collection. for any such error the editors wish beforehand to make due apology. it has not been their intention to discriminate against any person or group or section. they will be placed under obligation by any persons who will, upon reading the selections here noted, write them with respect to other authors whose works, they feel, should have been represented. while this book, it is hoped, will have a general interest for all wisconsin readers, it is believed that it may prove of particular use as supplementary reading in the seventh and eighth grades and the early years of the high school. to the end that the selections may prove available for this use, brief biographical and critical explanations have been given with nearly every selection. the editors acknowledge with gratitude the ready co-operation of both authors and publishers in permitting the use of copyrighted material, specific credit being given in each case in the proper connection. particular mention should also be made of the "bibliography of wisconsin authors," prepared in for the wisconsin historical society by emma a. hawley, under direction of reuben gold thwaites; and of "the so-called school of wisconsin authors," miss zona gale's thesis, under the same date. c. r. r. h. s. h. general writers. hamlin garland. hamlin garland was born in the beautiful la crosse valley, september , , and lived there until he was eight years old. twenty-three years ago he purchased the old homestead near west salem, la crosse county, and to this he delights to return each year for part of his summer. as one reads his description of the trip to west salem over the northwestern line in his story, "up the cooley," he is compelled to see how much mr. garland loves the scenes of wisconsin. among the other states which may share in the right to claim hamlin garland are iowa, massachusetts, illinois, and south dakota. in iowa he learned what the rural school, the academy, and the farm could teach him. it was in the boston public library that he formed much of his literary style and determined that the material for his future literary work should be the western life that he knew so well. in illinois he began his work as a teacher and a lecturer. here he met the girl who was to become his wife, miss zulima taft, sister of the artist, lorado taft. chicago is his present home. mr. garland visited his parents in south dakota in and took up a claim there. here he got material which he incorporated into some of his stories, among which the moccassin ranch is the most notable. the experience in these several states gave hamlin garland an excellent opportunity to understand all phases of country life. he has expressed his observations in description of boys' games, the labor on the farm, the work of the rural school, and the varied activities of the rural community. he knew that the work of the farm in an early day furnished as much opportunity for the display of resistance and the determination to use the last bit of strength to win as does the game of the present. the work of binding the wheat after a reaper became a game requiring honesty as well as skill and rapidity. perhaps no boy of today shoots a basket, makes a touch-down, or hits out a home run with more pride than did the youth of this pioneer life retire from the harvest field at noon or night with the consciousness that he had bound all his "tricks" without being caught once by the machine as it made its successive rounds of the field. hamlin garland knew the joys of these contests on the pioneer farm, and he also knew the sordid side of the narrow and cramped life of the early settler. he describes both with equal vividness and sympathy. wisconsin owes him much for the work he has done in preserving pictures of her early pioneer life. his hero and heroine are those ancestors who travelled forth into the new regions in covered wagons, and by the use of axe and plow conquered a seemingly unconquerable forest or a stubborn prairie sod. in his book of short stories, "main travelled roads," he makes the dedication of it to his heroic parents in these words: "to my father and mother, whose half-century pilgrimage on the main travelled road of life has brought them only toil and deprivation, this book of stories is dedicated by a son to whom every day brings a deepening sense of his parents' silent heroism." to illustrate mr. garland's ability to picture the joyous and the irksome in the life of the pioneer two selections are given at this place. the first sets forth the joy of farm activity, the second, the disheartening influence of abject toil. [illustration: hamlin garland] haying time from "boy life on the prairie." published by permission of harper bros. haying was the one season of farm work which the boys thoroughly enjoyed. it usually began on the tame meadows about the twenty-fifth of june, and lasted a week or so. it had always appealed to lincoln,[ ] in a distinctly beautiful and poetic sense, which was not true of the main business of farming. most of the duties through which he passed needed the lapse of years to seem beautiful in his eyes, but haying had a charm and significance quite out of the common. at this time the summer was at its most exuberant stage of vitality, and it was not strange that even the faculties of toiling old men, dulled and deadened with never ending drudgery, caught something of exultation from the superabundant glow and throb of nature's life. the corn fields, dark green and sweet-smelling, rippled like a sea with a multitudinous stir and sheen and swirl. waves of dusk and green and yellow circled across the level fields, while long leaves upthrust at intervals like spears or shook like guidons. the trees were in heavy leaf, insect life was at its height, and the air was filled with buzzing, dancing forms and with the sheen of innumerable gauzy wings. the air was shaken by most ecstatic voices. the bobolinks sailed and sang in the sensuous air, now sinking, now rising, their exquisite notes ringing, filling the air like the chimes of tiny silver bells. the kingbird, ever alert and aggressive, cried out sharply as he launched from the top of a poplar tree upon some buzzing insect, and the plover made the prairie sad with his wailing call. vast purple-and-white clouds moved like bellying sails before the lazy wind, dark with rain, which they dropped momentarily like trailing garments upon the earth, and so passed on in stately measure with a roll of thunder. the grasshoppers moved in clouds with snap and buzz, and out of the luxurious stagnant marshes came the ever thickening chorus of the toads and the frogs, while above them the kildees and the snipe shuttled to and fro in sounding flight, and the blackbirds on the cattails and willows swayed with lifted throats, uttering their subtle liquid notes, made mad with delight of the sun and their own music. and over all and through all moved the slow, soft west wind, laden with the breath of the far-off prairie lands of the west, soothing and hushing and filling the world with a slumbrous haze. the weather in haying time was glorious, with only occasional showers to accentuate the splendid sunlight. there were no old men and no women in these fields. the men were young and vigorous, and their action was swift and supple. sometimes it was hot to the danger point, especially on the windless side of the stack (no one had haybarns in those days) and sometimes the pitcher complained of cold chills running up his back. sometimes jack flung a pail full of water over his head and shoulders before beginning to unload, and seemed the better for it. mr. stewart kept plenty of "switchel" (which is composed of ginger and water) for his hands to drink. he had a notion that it was less injurious than water or beer, and no sun strokes occurred among his men. once, one hot afternoon, the air took on an oppressive density, the wind died away almost to a calm, blowing fitfully from the south, while in the far west a vast dome of inky clouds, silent and portentous, uplifted, filling the horizon, swelling like a great bubble, yet seeming to have the weight of a mountain range in its mass. the birds, bees, and all insects, hitherto vocal, suddenly sank into silence, as if awed by the first deep mutter of the storm. the mercury is touching one hundred degrees in the shade. all hands hasten to get the hay in order, that it may shed rain. they hurry without haste, as only adept workmen can. they roll up the windrows by getting fork and shoulder under one end, tumbling it over and over endwise, till it is large enough; then go back for the scatterings, which are placed, with a deft turn of the fork, on the top to cap the pile. the boys laugh and shout as they race across the field. every man is wet to the skin with sweat; hats are flung aside; lincoln, on the rake, puts his horse to the trot. the feeling of the struggle, of racing with the thunder, exalts him. nearer and nearer comes the storm, silent no longer. the clouds are breaking up. the boys stop to listen. far away is heard the low, steady, crescendo, grim roar; intermixed with crashing thunderbolts, the rain streams aslant, but there is not yet a breath of air from the west; the storm wind is still far away; the toads in the marsh, and the fearless king-bird, alone cry out in the ominous gloom cast by the rolling clouds of the tempest. "look out! here it comes!" calls the boss. the black cloud melts to form the gray veil of the falling rain, which blots out the plain as it sweeps on. now it strikes the corn-field, sending a tidal wave rushing across it. now it reaches the wind-break, and the spire-like poplars bow humbly to it. now it touches the hay-field, and the caps of the cocks go flying; the long grass streams in the wind like a woman's hair. in an instant the day's work is undone and the hay is opened to the drenching rain. as all hands rush for the house, the roaring tempest rides upon them like a regiment of demon cavalry. the lightning breaks forth from the blinding gray clouds of rain. as lincoln looks up he sees the streams of fire go rushing across the sky like the branching of great red trees. a moment more, and the solid sheets of water fall upon the landscape, shutting it from view, and the thunder crashes out, sharp and splitting, in the near distance, to go deepening and bellowing off down the illimitable spaces of the sky and plain, enlarging, as it goes, like the rumor of war. in the east is still to be seen a faint crescent of the sunny sky, rapidly being closed in as the rain sweeps eastward; but as that diminishes to a gleam, a similar window, faint, watery, and gray, appears in the west, as the clouds break away. it widens, grows yellow, and then red; and at last blazes out into an inexpressible glory of purple and crimson and gold, as the storm moves swiftly over. the thunder grows deeper, dies to a retreating mutter, and is lost. the clouds' dark presence passes away. the trees flame with light, the robins take up their songs again, the air is deliciously cool. the corn stands bent, as if still acknowledging the majesty of the wind. everything is new-washed, clean of dust, and a faint, moist odor of green things fills the air. lincoln seizes the opportunity to take owen's place in bringing the cattle, and mounting his horse gallops away. the road is wet and muddy, but the prairie is firm, and the pony is full of power. in full flower, fragrant with green grass and radiant with wild roses, sweet-williams, lilies, pinks, and pea-vines, the sward lies new washed by the rain, while over it runs a strong, cool wind from the west. the boy's heart swells with unutterable joy of life. the world is exaltingly beautiful. it is good to be alone, good to be a boy, and to be mounted on a swift horse. footnote: [ ] the name of a boy in the story. among the corn rows from "main travelled roads." printed by permission of harper bros. a corn-field in july is a sultry place. the soil is hot and dry; the wind comes across the lazily murmuring leaves laden with a warm, sickening smell drawn from the rapidly growing, broad-flung banners of the corn. the sun, nearly vertical, drops a flood of dazzling light upon the field over which the cool shadows run, only to make the heat seem the more intense. julia peterson, faint with hunger, was toiling back and forth between the corn-rows, holding the handles of the double-shovel corn plow, while her little brother otto rode the steaming horse. her heart was full of bitterness, her face flushed with heat, and her muscles aching with fatigue. the heat grew terrible. the corn came to her shoulders, and not a breath seemed to reach her, while the sun, nearing the noon mark, lay pitilessly upon her shoulders, protected only by a calico dress. the dust rose under her feet, and as she was wet with perspiration it soiled her till with a woman's instinctive cleanliness, she shuddered. her head throbbed dangerously. what matter to her that the king bird flitted jovially from the maple to catch a wandering blue bottle fly, that the robin was feeding her young, that the bobolink was singing. all these things, if she saw them, only threw her bondage to labor into greater relief. across the field, in another patch of corn, she could see her father--a big, gruff-voiced, wide-bearded norwegian--at work also with a plow. the corn must be plowed, and so she toiled on, the tears dropping from the shadow of the ugly sun-bonnet she wore. her shoes, coarse and square-toed, chafed her feet; her hands, large and strong, were browned, or, more properly, burnt, on the backs by the sun. the horse's harness "creak-cracked" as he swung steadily and patiently forward, the moisture pouring from his hide, his nostrils distended. the field bordered on a road, and on the other side of the road ran a river--a broad, clear, shallow expanse at that point--and the eyes of the girl gazed longingly at the pond and the cool shadow each time that she turned at the fence. this same contrast is expressed by hamlin garland in two poems presented here. the first, "ploughing," sets forth the irksome toll to which the undeveloped boy was subjected. the second, "ladrone," portrays the joy which the youth in the country acquires from association with the animals of the farm. these poems and all the following selections are taken from "boy life on the prairie," and are here published by permission of the macmillan company. plowing a lonely task it is to plough! all day the black and clinging soil rolls like a ribbon from the mould-board's glistening curve. all day the horses toil battling with the flies--and strain their creaking collars. all day the crickets jeer from wind-blown shocks of grain. october brings the frosty dawn, the still, warm noon, the cold, clear night, when torpid insects make no sound, and wild-fowl in their southward flight go by in hosts--and still the boy and tired team gnaw round by round, at weather-beaten stubble, band by band, until at last, to their great joy, the winter's snow seals up the unploughed land. ladrone and, "what of ladrone"--do you ask? oh! friend. i am sad at the name. my splendid fleet roan!--the task you require is a hard one at best. swift as the spectral coyote, as tame to my voice as a sweetheart, an eye like a pool in the woodland asleep, brown, clear, and calm, with color down deep, where his brave, proud soul seemed to lie-- ladrone! there's a spell in the word. the city walls fade on my eye--the roar of its traffic grows dim as the sound of the wind in a dream. my spirit takes wing like a bird. once more i'm asleep on the plain, the summer wind sings in my hair; once again i hear the wild crane crying out of the steaming air; white clouds are adrift on the breeze, the flowers nod under my feet, and under my thighs, 'twixt my knees, again as of old i can feel the roll of ladrone's firm muscles, the reel of his chest--see the thrust of fore-limb and hear the dull trample of heel. we thunder behind the mad herd. my singing whip swirls like a snake. hurrah! we swoop on like a bird. with my pony's proud record at stake-- for the shaggy, swift leader has stride like the last of a long kingly line; her eyes flash fire through her hair; she tosses her head in disdain; her mane streams wide on the air-- she leads the swift herd of the plain as a wolf-leader leads his gaunt pack, on the slot of the desperate deer-- their exultant eyes savagely shine. but down on her broad shining back stings my lash like a rill of red flame-- huzzah, my wild beauty! your best; will you teach my ladrone a new pace? will you break his proud heart in a shame by spurning the dust in his face? the herd falls behind and is lost, as we race neck and neck, stride and stride. again the long lash hisses hot along the gray mare's glassy hide-- aha, she is lost! she does not respond. now i lean to the ear of my roan and shout--letting fall the light rein. like a hound from the leash, my ladrone swoops ahead. we're alone on the plain! ah! how the thought at wild living comes back! alone on the wide, solemn prairie i ride with my rifle in hand, my eyes on the watch for the wary and beautiful antelope band. or sleeping at night in the grasses, i hear ladrone grazing near in the gloom. his listening head on the sky i see etched complete to the ear. from the river below comes the boom of the bittern, the thrill and the cry of frogs in the pool, and the shrill cricket's chime, making ceaseless and marvelous rhyme. but what of his fate? did he die when the terrible tempest was done? when he staggered with you to the light, and your fight with the norther was won, did he live a guest evermore? no, friend, not so. i sold him--outright. what! sold your preserver, your mate, he who through wind and wild snow and deep night brought you safe to a shelter at last? did you, when the danger had end, forget your dumb hero--your friend? forget! no, nor can i. why, man, it's little you know of such love as i felt for him! you think that you feel the same deep regard for your span, blanketed, shining, and clipped to the heel, but my horse was companion and guard-- my playmate, my ship on the sea of dun grasses--in all kinds of weather, unhorsed and hungry and sometimes, he served me for love and needed no tether. no, i do not forget; but who is the master of fortune and fate? who does as he wishes and not as he must? when i sold my preserver, my mate, my faithfulest friend--man, i wept. yes, i own it. his faithful eyes seemed to ask what it meant. and he kept them fixed on me in startled surprise, as another hand led him away. and the last that i heard of my roan, was the sound of his shrill, pleading neigh! oh magic west wind of the mountain, oh steed with the stinging main, in sleep i draw rein at the fountain, and wake with a shiver of pain; for the heart and the heat of the city are walls and prison's chain. lost my ladrone--gone the wild living-- i dream, but my dreaming is vain. hamlin garland's parents were of scotch presbyterian descent and were strict in their management of their children, but their lives were most wholesome and they were withal companionable. their sacrifice and toil have been rewarded by the response their son has made to the opportunities they could offer him. besides the rural school training at burr oak, iowa, mr. garland received additional education at cedar valley seminary at osage, where he attended school during the winter seasons. he graduated from this school in and then for a year travelled through the eastern states. his people later settled in brown county, dakota, and he visited them there in . in he went to boston, where he came under the influence of professor moses true brown of the boston school of oratory, oliver wendell holmes, william dean howells, edward everett hale, and edwin booth. mr. garland began his career as an author with the publication of his poem, "lost in a norther," in harper's weekly. for this poem he received twenty-five dollars. his work has been unusually remunerative. he has been a popular contributor to the century magazine, the youth's companion, the arena, and other magazines. his first book was published in . mr. garland enjoys social life and outdoor sports very much. he was the founder and is still the president of the cliff dwellers' club in chicago. he is especially fond of the outdoor sports of swimming, skating, and riding the trail on the plains and the mountains. the joy in this last is expressed in a poem which is given later. mr. garland's publications include short stories, novels, essays, and poems. these book publications began with the short stories, main travelled roads, in . since then have appeared jason edwards, ; a member of the third house, an exposure of political corruption, ; a spoil of office, ; prairie folks, prairie songs and crumbling idols, a series of critical essays, ; rose of dutcher's coolly, a novel, ; wayside courtships, ; a biography of ulysses s. grant, ; the trail of the gold seekers and boy life on the prairie, ; the eagle's heart, ; her mountain lover, a novel, ; the captain of the gray horse troop, another novel, ; hesper, ; the tyranny of the dark, a study in psychic research, ; the long trail, ; the shadow world, another study in the psychic field, ; the moccassin ranch, ; cavanagh, forest ranger, a study in forest preservation, ; victor olnee's discipline, ; the forest daughter, ; and they of the high trails, . the toil of the trail what have i gained by the toil of the trail? i know and know well. i have found once again the lore i had lost in the loud cities' hell. i have broadened my hand to the cinch and the axe, i have laid my flesh to the rain; i was hunter and trailer and guide; i have touched the most primitive wildness again. i have threaded the wild with the stealth of the deer, no eagle is freer than i; no mountain can thwart me, no torrent appall. i defy the stern sky. so long as i live these joys will remain, i have touched the most primitive wildness again. the blue jay his eyes are bright as burnished steel, his note a quick, defiant cry; harsh as a hinge his grating squeal sounds from the keen wind sweeping by. rains never dim his smooth blue coat, the cold winds never trouble him, no fog puts hoarseness in his throat, or makes his merry eyes grow dim. his call at dawning is a shout, his wing is subject to his heart; of fear he knows not--doubt did not draw his sailing-chart. he is an universal emigre, his foot is set in every land; he greets me by gray casco bay and laughs across the texas sand. in heat or cold, in storm and sun, he lives undauntedly; and when he dies, he folds his feet up one by one and turns his last look on the skies. he is the true american. he fears no journey and no wood or wall-- and in the desert, toiling voyagers take heart or courage from his jocund call. pom-pom pull-away. out on the snow the boys are springing, shouting blithely at their play; through the night their voices ringing, sound the cry "pom, pull-away!" up the sky the round moon stealing, trails a robe of shimmering white: while the great bear slowly wheeling marks the pole-star's steady light. the air with frost is keen and stinging, spite of cap and muffler gay; big boys whistle, girls are singing-- loud rings out, "pom, pull-away!" oh, the phrase has magic in it, sounding through the moon-lit air! and in 'bout a half-a-minute i am part and parcel there. 'cross the pond i once more scurry through the thickest of the fray, sleeve ripped off by andy murray-- "let her rip--pom, pull-away!" mother'll mend it in the morning (dear old patient, smiling face!) one more darn my sleeve adorning-- "whoop her up!"--is no disgrace. moonbeams on the snow a-splinter, air that stirred the blood like wine-- what cared we for cold of winter? what for maiden's soft eyes' shine? give us but a score of skaters and the cry, "pom, pull-away!" we were always girl beraters-- forgot them wholly, sooth to say! o voices through the night air ringing! o, thoughtless, happy, boist'rous play! o silver clouds the keen wind winging; at the cry, "pom, pull-away!" i pause and dream with keenest longing for the starlit magic night, for my noisy playmates thronging, and the slow moon's trailing light. the old fashioned threshing in green's coolly, wisconsin from "boy life on the prairie." published by permission of harper bros. life on a wisconsin farm, even for the older lads, had its compensations. there were times when the daily routine of lonely and monotonous life gave place to an agreeable bustle for a few days, and human intercourse lightened toil. in the midst of the dull, slow progress of the fall's ploughing, the gathering of the threshing crew was a most dramatic event. there had been great changes in the methods of threshing since mr. stewart had begun to farm, but it had not yet reached the point where steam displaced the horse-power; and the grain, after being stacked round the barn ready to be threshed, was allowed to remain until late in the fall before calling in a machine. of course, some farmers got at it earlier, for all could not thresh at the same time, and a good part of the fall's labor consisted in "changing works" with the neighbors, thus laying up a stock of unpaid labor ready for the home job. day after day, therefore, mr. stewart and the hired man shouldered their forks in the crisp and early dawn and went to help their neighbors, while the boys ploughed the stubble-land. all through the months of october and november, the ceaseless ringing hum and the bow-ouw, ouw-woo booee-oom of the great balance wheel of the threshing-machine, and the deep bass hum of the whirling cylinder, as its motion rose and fell, could be heard on every side like the singing of some sullen and gigantic autumnal insect. for weeks lincoln had looked forward to the coming of the threshers with the greatest eagerness, and during the whole of the day appointed, owen and he hung on the gate and gazed down the road to see if the machine was coming. it did not come during the afternoon--still they could not give it up, and at the falling of dusk still hoped to hear the rattle of its machinery. it was not uncommon for the men who attended to these machines to work all day at one place and move to another setting at night. in that way, they might not arrive until o'clock at night, or they might come at o'clock in the morning, and the children were about starting to "climb the wooden hill" when they heard the peculiar rattle of the cylinder and the voices of the mcturgs, singing. "there they are," said mr. stewart, getting the old square lantern and lighting the candle within. the air was sharp, and the boys, having taken off their boots, could only stand at the window and watch the father as he went out to show the men where to set the "power," the dim light throwing fantastic shadows here and there, lighting up a face now and then, and bringing out the thresher, which seemed a silent monster to the children, who flattened their noses against the window-panes to be sure that nothing should escape them. the men's voices sounded cheerfully in the still night, and the roused turkeys in the oaks peered about on their perches, black silhouettes against the sky. the children would gladly have stayed up to greet the threshers, who were captains of industry in their eyes, but they were ordered off to bed by mrs. stewart, who said, "you must go to sleep in order to be up early in the morning." as they lay there in their beds under the sloping rafter roof, they heard the[ ] hand riding furiously away to tell some of the neighbors that the threshers had come. they could hear the cackle of the hens as mr. stewart assaulted them and wrung their innocent necks. the crash of the "sweeps" being unloaded sounded loud and clear in the night, and so watching the dance of the lights and shadows cast by the lantern on the plastered wall, they fell asleep. they were awakened next morning by the ringing beat of the iron sledge as the men drove stakes to hold the "power" to the ground. the rattle of chains, the clang of iron bars, intermixed with laughter and snatches of song, came sharply through the frosty air. the smell of sausages being fried in the kitchen, the rapid tread of their busy mother as she hurried the breakfast forward, warned the boys that it was time to get up, although it was not yet dawn in the east, and they had a sense of being awakened to a strange, new world. when they got down to breakfast, the men had finished their coffee and were out in the stock-yard completing preparations. this morning experience was superb. though shivery and cold in the faint frosty light of the day, the children enjoyed every moment of it. the frost lay white on every surface, the frozen ground rang like iron under the steel-shod feet of the horses, the breath of the men rose up in little white puffs while they sparred playfully or rolled each other on the ground in jovial clinches of legs and arms. the young men were anxiously waiting the first sound which should rouse the countryside and proclaim that theirs was the first machine to be at work. the older men stood in groups, talking politics or speculating on the price of wheat, pausing occasionally to slap their hands about their breasts. finally, just as the east began to bloom and long streamers of red began to unroll along the vast gray dome of sky, joe gilman--"shouting joe," as he was called--mounted one of the stacks, and throwing down the cap-sheaf, lifted his voice in a "chippewa warwhoop." on a still morning like this his voice could be heard three miles. long drawn and musical, it sped away over the fields, announcing to all the world that the mcturgs were ready for the race. answers came back faintly from the frosty fields, where the dim figures of laggard hands could be seen hurrying over the ploughland; then david called "all right," and the machine began to hum. in those days the machine was a j. i. case or a "buffalo pits" separator, and was moved by five pairs of horses attached to a power staked to the ground, round which they travelled to the left, pulling at the ends of long levers or sweeps. the power was planted some rods away from the machine, to which the force was carried by means of "tumbling rods," with "knuckle joints." the driver stood upon a platform above the huge, savage, cog-wheels round which the horses moved, and he was a great figure in the eyes of the boys. driving looked like an easy job, but it was not. it was very tiresome to stand on that small platform all through the long day of the early fall, and on cold november mornings when the cutting wind roared over the plain, sweeping the dust and leaves along the road. it was far pleasanter to sit on the south side of the stack, as tommy did, and watch the horses go round. it was necessary also for the driver to be a man of good judgment, for the power must be kept just to the right speed, and he should be able to gauge the motion of the cylinder by the pitch of its deep bass hum. there were always three men who went with the machine and were properly "the threshers." one acted as driver; the others were respectively "feeder" and "tender"; one of them fed the grain into the rolling cylinder, while the other, oil-can in hand, "tended" the separator. the feeder's position was the high place to which all boys aspired, and they used to stand in silent admiration watching the easy, powerful swing of david mcturg as he caught the bundles in the crook of his arm, and spread them out into a broad, smooth band upon which the cylinder caught and tore like some insatiate monster, and david was the ideal man in lincoln's eyes, and to be able to feed a threshing machine, the highest honor in the world. the boy who was chosen to cut bands went to his post like a soldier to dangerous picket duty. sometimes david would take one of the small boys upon his stand, where he could see the cylinder whiz while flying wheat stung his face. sometimes the driver would invite tommy on the power to watch the horses go round, and when he became dizzy often took the youngster in his arms and running out along the moving sweep, threw him with a shout into david's arms. the boys who were just old enough to hold sacks for the measurer, did not enjoy threshing so well, but to lincoln and his mates it was the keenest joy. they wished it would never end. the wind blew cold and the clouds were flying across the bright blue sky, the straw glistened in the sun, the machine howled, the dust flew, the whip cracked, and the men worked like beavers to get the sheaves to the feeder, and to keep the straw and wheat away from the tail-end of the machine. these fellows, wallowing to their waists in the chaff, did so for the amusement of the boys, and for no other reason. they were always amused by the man who stood in the midst of the thick dust and the flying chaff at the head of the stacker, who took and threw away the endless cataract of straw as if it were all play. his teeth shown like those of a negro out of his dust blackened face, and his shirt was wet with sweat, but he motioned for more straw, and the feeder, accepting the challenge, motioned for more speed, and so the driver swung his lash and yelled at the straining horses, the pitchers buckled to, the sleepy growl of the cylinder rose to a howl, the wheat rushed out in a stream as "big as a stove-pipe," and the carriers were forced to trot back and forth from the granary like mad, and to generally "hump themselves" in order to keep the grain from piling up around the measurer where ellis stood disconsolately holding sacks for old man smith. when the children got tired of wallowing in the straw, and with turning somersaults therein, they went down to help rover catch the rats which were uncovered by the pitchers when they reached the stack bottom. it was all play to lincoln, just as it had once been to the others. the horses, with their straining, outstretched necks, the loud and cheery shouts, the whistling of the driver, the roar and hum of the machinery, the flourishing of the forks, the supple movements of the brawny arms, the shouts of the threshers to one another, all blended with the wild sound of the wind overhead in the creaking branches of the oaks, formed a splendid drama for his recording brain. but for the boy who was forced to stand with old daddy smith in the flying dust beside the machine, it was a bad play. he was a part of the machine--of the crew. his liberty to come and go was gone. when daddy was grinning at him out of the gray dust and the swirling chaff, the wheat beards were crawling down his back, scratching and rasping. his ears were stunned by the noise of the cylinder and the howl of the balance-wheel, and it did not help him any to have the old man say in a rasping voice, "never mind the chaff, sonny--it ain't pizen." whirr--bang! something had gone into the cylinder, making the feeder dodge to escape the flying teeth, and the men seized the horses to stop the machine. the men then hailed such accidents with delight, for it afforded them a few minutes' rest while the crew put some new teeth in the "concave." they had time to unbutton their shirts and get some of the beards out of their necks, to take a drink of water, and to let the deafness go out of their ears. at such times also some of the young fellows were sure to have a wrestling or a lifting match, and all kinds of jokes flew about. the man at the straw-stack leaned indolently on his fork and asked the feeder sarcastically if that was the best he could do, and remarked, "it's gettin' chilly up here. guess i'll have to go home and get my kid gloves." to this david laughingly responded, "i'll warm your carcass with a rope if you don't shut up," all of which gave the boys infinite delight. but the work began again, and ellis was forced to take his place as regularly as the other men. as the sun neared the zenith, he looked often up to it--so often in fact that daddy, observing it, cackled in great amusement, "think you c'n hurry it along, sonny? the watched pot never boils, remember!"--which made the boy so angry he nearly kicked the old man on the shin. but at last the call for dinner sounded, the driver began to shout, "whoa there, boys," to the teams and to hold his long whip before their eyes in order to convince them that he really meant "whoa." the pitchers stuck their forks down in the stack and leaped to the ground; billy, the band-cutter, drew from his wrist the string of his big knife; the men slid down from the straw-pile and a race began among the teamsters to see who should be first unhitched and at the watering trough and at the table. it was always a splendid and dramatic moment to the boys as the men crowded round the well to wash, shouting, joking, cuffing each other, sloshing themselves with water, and accusing each other of having blackened the towel by using it to wash with rather than to wipe with. mrs. stewart and the hired girl, and generally some of the neighbors' wives (who changed "works" also) stood ready to bring on the food as soon as the men were seated. the table had been lengthened to its utmost and pieced out with the kitchen table, which usually was not of the same height, and planks had been laid for seats on stout kitchen chairs at each side. the men came in with noisy rush and took seats wherever they could find them, and their attack on "biled taters and chicken" should have been appalling to the women, but it was not. they smiled to see them eat. a single slash at a boiled potato, followed by two motions, and it disappeared. grimy fingers lifted a leg of chicken to a wide mouth, and two snaps laid it bare as a slate pencil. to the children standing in the corner waiting, it seemed that every smitch of the dinner was going and that nothing would be left when the men got through, but there was, for food was plentiful. at last even the "gantest" of them filled up. even len had his limits, and something remained for the children and the women, who sat down at the second table, while david and william and len returned to the machine to put everything in order, to sew the belts, or take a bent tooth out of the "concave." len, however, managed to return two or three times in order to have his jokes with the hired girl, who enjoyed it quite as much as he did. in the short days of october only a brief nooning was possible, and as soon as the horses had finished their oats, the roar and hum of the machine began again and continued steadily all afternoon. owen and rover continued their campaign upon the rats which inhabited the bottom of the stacks and great was their excitement as the men reached the last dozen sheaves. rover barked and owen screamed half in fear and half from a boy's savage delight in killing things, and very few rats escaped their combined efforts. to ellis the afternoon seemed endless. his arms grew tired with holding the sacks against the lip of the half bushel, and his fingers grew sore with the rasp of the rough canvas out of which the sacks were made. when he thought of the number of times he must repeat these actions, his heart was numb with weariness. all things have an end! by and by the sun grew big and red, night began to fall and the wind to die down. through the falling gloom the machine boomed steadily with a new sound, a sort of solemn roar, rising at intervals to a rattling yell as the cylinder ran empty. the men were working silently, sullenly, moving dim and strange; the pitchers on the stack, the feeder on the platform, and especially the workers on the high straw-pile, seemed afar off to lincoln's eyes. the gray dust covered the faces of those near by, changing them into something mysterious and sad. at last he heard the welcome cry, "turn out!" the men raised glad answer and threw aside their forks. again came the gradual slowing down of the motion, while the driver called in a gentle, soothing voice: "whoa, lads! steady, boys, whoa, now!" but the horses had been going on so long and so steadily that they checked their speed with difficulty. the men slid from the stacks, and seizing the ends of the sweeps, held them; but even after the power was still, the cylinder went on, until david, calling for a last sheaf, threw it in its open maw, choking it into silence. then came the sound of dropping chains and iron rods, and the thud of the hoofs as the horses walked with laggard gait and down-falling heads to the barn. the men were more subdued than at dinner, washing with greater care, brushing the dust from their beards and clothes. the air was still and cool, the wind was gone, the sky deep, cloudless blue. the evening meal was more attractive to the boys than dinner. the table was lighted with a kerosene lamp, and the clean white linen, the fragrant dishes, the women flying about with steaming platters, all seemed very dramatic, very cheering to lincoln as well as to the men who came into the light and warmth with aching muscles and empty stomach. there was always a good deal of talk at supper, but it was gentler than at the dinner hour. the younger fellows had their jokes, of course, and watched the hired girl attentively, while the old fellows discussed the day's yield of grain and the matters of the township. ellis was now allowed a place at the first table like a first-class hand. the pie and the doughnuts and the coffee disappeared as fast as they could be brought, which seemed to please mrs. stewart, who said, "goodness sakes, yes; eat all you want. they was made to eat." the men were all, or nearly all, neighbors, or hands hired by the month, and some were like members of the family. mrs. stewart treated them all like visitors and not like hired help. no one feared a genuine rudeness from the other. after they had eaten their supper it was a great pleasure to the boys to go out to the barn and shed (all wonderfully changed now to their minds by the great new stack of straw), there to listen to the stories or jolly remarks of the men as they curried their tired horses munching busily at their hay, too weary to move a muscle otherwise, but enjoying the rubbing down which the men gave them with wisps of straws held in each hand. the light from the kitchen was very welcome, and how bright and warm it was with the mother's merry voice and smiling face where the women were moving to and fro, and talking even more busily than they worked. sometimes in these old-fashioned days, after the supper table was cleared out of the way, and the men returned to the house, an hour or two of delicious merry making ended the day. perhaps two or three of the sisters of the young men had dropped in, and the boys themselves were in no hurry to get home. around the fire the older men sat to tell stories while the girls trudged in and out, finishing up the dishes and getting the materials ready for breakfast. with speechless content lincoln sat to listen to stories of bears and indians and logging on the wisconsin, and other tales of frontier life, and then at last, after beseeching, david opened the violin box and played. strange how those giant hands became supple to the strings and bow. all day they had been handling the fierce straw or were covered with the grease and dirt of the machine, yet now they drew from the violin the wildest, weirdest strains, thrilling norse folk songs, swedish dances and love ballads, mournful, sensuous, and seductive. lincoln could not understand why those tunes had that sad, sweet quality, but he could sit and listen to them all night long. oh, those rare days and rarer nights! how fine they were then--and how mellow they are growing now as the slow-paced years drop a golden mist upon them. from this distance they seem so near that my heart aches to relive them, but they are so wholesome and so carefree that the world is poorer for the change. footnote: [ ] the hired man. general charles king. general charles king is no doubt wisconsin's most voluminous writer. he was born in albany, new york, in ; was graduated from the united states military academy in : was made captain of a company of cavalry engaged in indian warfare in , and was retired on account of wounds in june of that year. he came to wisconsin in as inspector and instructor of the wisconsin national guard. besides serving in indian warfare, he has also seen action in the philippine islands. his military life has been active enough to consume the energies of most men, but not so with this soldier. he is the author of more than fifty books, most of which deal with exciting and dramatic episodes, which come from his pen with the conviction and clarity that result only from actual knowledge and observation. perhaps the best known of all his many books are "the colonel's daughter" and its sequel, "marion's faith." the first selection here given is one frequently quoted from the latter book, but the second is from one of his more recent volumes, entitled, "the real ulysses s. grant," and it is characterized by crisp, clear statement and by a feeling of intense sincerity and conviction. general king is a familiar figure both on the streets of milwaukee and in every town in wisconsin that boasts a company in the national guard. his erect carriage and his whole bearing indicate youth and strength. he is a delightful lecturer, and a talk with him is an experience that one does not readily forget. he practically never mentions his own exploits, though they were many; but his accurate memory and his excellent powers of description are brought into play when the deeds of others are concerned. [illustration: general charles king] ray's ride for life from "marion's faith." chap. . by gen. charles king, u.s.a. copyright, , by j. b. lippincott co. darkness has settled down in the shadowy wyoming valley. by the light of a tiny fire under the bank some twenty forms can be seen stretched upon the sand,--they are wounded soldiers. a little distance away are nine others, shrouded in blankets: they are the dead. huddled in confused and cowering group are a few score horses, many of them sprawled upon the sand motionless; others occasionally struggle to rise or plunge about in their misery. crouching among the timber, vigilant but weary, dispersed in a big, irregular circle around the beleaguered bivouac, some sixty soldiers are still on the active list. all around them, vigilant and vengeful, lurk the cheyennes. every now and then the bark as of a coyote is heard,--a yelping, querulous cry,--and it is answered far across the valley or down the stream. there is no moon; the darkness is intense, though the starlight is clear, and the air so still that the galloping hoofs of the cheyenne ponies far out on the prairie sound close at hand. "that's what makes it hard," says ray, who is bending over the prostrate form of captain wayne. "if it were storming or blowing, or something to deaden the hoof-beats, i could make it easier; but it's the only chance." the only chance of what? when the sun went down upon wayne's timber citadel, and the final account of stock was taken for the day, it was found that with one-fourth of the command, men and horses, killed and wounded, there were left not more than three hundred cartridges, all told, to enable some sixty men to hold out until relief could come against an enemy who encircled them on every side, and who had only to send over to the neighboring reservation--forty miles away--and get all the cartridges they wanted. mr. ---- would let their friends have them to kill "buffalo," though mr. ---- knew there wasn't a buffalo left within four hundred miles. they could cut through, of course, and race up the valley to find the --th, but they would have to leave the wounded and the dismounted behind,--to death by torture,--so that ended the matter. only one thing remained. in some way--by some means--word must be carried to the regiment. the chances were ten to one against the couriers slipping out. up and down the valley, out on the prairie on both sides of the stream, the cheyennes kept vigilant watch. they had their hated enemies in a death-grip, and only waited the coming of other warriors and more ammunition to finish them--as the sioux had finished custer. they knew, though the besieged did not, that, the very evening before, the --th had marched away westward, and were far from their comrades. all they had to do was to prevent any one's escaping to give warning of the condition of things in wayne's command. all, therefore, were on the alert, and of this there was constant indication. the man or men who made the attempt would have to run the gauntlet. the one remaining scout who had been employed for such work refused the attempt as simply madness. he had lived too long among the indians to dare it, yet wayne and ray and dana and hunter, and the whole command, for that matter, knew that some one must try it. who was it to be? there was no long discussion. wayne called the sulking scout a damned coward, which consoled him somewhat, but didn't help matters. ray had been around the rifle-pits taking observations. presently he returned, leading dandy up near the fire,--the one sheltered light that was permitted. "looks fine as silk, don't he?" he said, smoothing his pet's glossy neck and shoulder, for ray's groom had no article of religion which took precedence over the duty he owed the lieutenant's horse, and no sooner was the sun down than he had been grooming him as though still in garrison. "give him all the oats you can steal, hogan; some of the men must have a hatful left." wayne looked up startled. "ray, i can't let you go!" "there's no helping it. some one must go, and who can you send?" even there the captain noted the grammatical eccentricity. what was surprising was that even there he made no comment thereon. he was silent. ray had spoken truth. there was no one whom he could order to risk death in breaking his way out since the scout had said 'twas useless. there were brave men there who would gladly try it had they any skill in such matters, but that was lacking. "if any man in the company could 'make it,' that man was ray." he was cool, daring, keen; he was their best and lightest rider, and no one so well knew the country or better knew the cheyennes. wayne even wished that ray might volunteer. there was only this about it,--the men would lose much of their grit with him away. they swore by him, and felt safe when he was there to lead or encourage. but the matter was settled by ray himself. he was already stripping for the race. "get those shoes off," he said to the farrier, who came at his bidding, and dandy wonderingly looked up from the gunny-sack of oats in which he had buried his nozzle. "what on earth could that blacksmith mean by tugging out his shoe-nails?" was his reflection, though, like the philosopher he was, he gave more thought to his oats,--an unaccustomed luxury just then. there seemed nothing to be said by anybody. wayne rose painfully to his feet. hunter stood in silence by, and a few men grouped themselves around the little knot of officers. ray had taken off his belt and was poking out the carbine cartridges from the loops,--there were not over ten. then he drew the revolver, carefully examined the chambers to see that all were filled; motioned with his hand to those on the ground, saying, quietly, "pick those up. y'all may need every one of 'em." the blue grass dialect seemed cropping out the stronger for his preoccupation. "got any spare colts?" he continued, turning to wayne. "i only want another round." these he stowed as he got them in the smaller loops on the right side of his belt. then he bent forward to examine dandy's hoofs again. "smooth them off as well as you can. get me a little of that sticky mud there, one of you men. there! ram that into every hole and smooth off the surface. make it look just as much like a pony's as you know how. they can't tell dandy's tracks from their own then, don't you see?" three or four pairs of hands worked assiduously to do his bidding. still, there was no talking. no one had anything he felt like saying just then. "who's got the time?" he asked. wayne looked at his watch, bending down over the fire. "just nine fifteen." "all right. i must be off in ten minutes. the moon will be up at eleven." dandy had finished the last of his oats by this time, and was gazing contentedly about him. ever since quite early in the day he had been in hiding down there under the bank. he had received only one trifling clip, though for half an hour at least he had been springing around where the bullets flew thickest. he was even pining for his customary gallop over the springy turf, and wondering why it had been denied him that day. "only a blanket and surcingle," said ray, to his orderly, who was coming up with the heavy saddle and bags. "we're riding to win tonight, dandy and i, and must travel light." he flung aside his scouting hat, knotted the silk handkerchief he took from his throat so as to confine the dark hair that came tumbling almost into his eyes, buckled the holster-belt tightly round his waist, looked doubtfully an instant at his spurs, but decided to keep them on. then he turned to wayne. "a word with you, captain." the others fell back a short distance, and for a moment the two stood alone speaking in low tones. all else was silent except the feverish moan of some poor fellow lying sorely wounded in the hollow, or the occasional pawing and stir among the horses. in the dim light of the little fire the others stood watching them. they saw that wayne was talking earnestly, and presently extended his hand, and they heard ray, somewhat impatiently, say, "never mind that now," and noted that at first he did not take the hand; but finally they came back to the group and ray spoke: "now, fellows, just listen a minute. i've got to break out on the south side. i know it better. of course there are no end of indians out there, but most of the crowd are in the timber above and below. there will be plenty on the watch, and it isn't possible that i can gallop out through them without being heard. dandy and i have got to sneak for it until we're spotted, or clear of them, then away we go. i hope to work well out towards the bluffs before they catch a glimpse of me, then lie flat and go for all i'm worth to where we left the regiment. then you bet it won't be long before the old crowd will be coming down just a humping. i'll have 'em here by six o'clock, if, indeed, i don't find them coming ahead tonight. just keep up your grit, and we'll do our level best, dandy and i; won't we, old boy? now, i want to see dana a minute and the other wounded fellows," and he went and bent down over them, saying a cheery word to each; and rough, suffering men held out feeble hands to take a parting grip, and looked up into his brave young eyes. he had long known how the rank and file regarded him, but had been disposed to laugh it off. tonight as he stopped to say a cheering word to the wounded, and looked down at some pale, bearded face that had stood at his shoulder in more than one tight place in the old apache days in arizona, and caught the same look of faith and trust in him, something like a quiver hovered for a minute about his lips, and his own brave eyes grew moist. they knew he was daring death to save them, but that was a view of the case that did not seem to occur to him at all. at last he came to dana lying there a little apart. the news that ray was going to "ride for them" had been whispered all through the bivouac by this time, and dana turned and took ray's hand in both his own. "god speed you, old boy! if you make it all safe, get word to mother that i didn't do so badly in my first square tussle, will you?" "if i make it, you'll be writing it yourself this time tomorrow night. even if i don't make it, don't you worry, lad. the colonel and stannard ain't the fellows to let us shift for ourselves with the country full of cheyennes. they'll be down here in two days, anyhow. good-by, dana; keep your grip and we'll larrup 'em yet." then he turned back to wayne, hunter, and the doctor. "one thing occurs to me, hunter. you and six or eight men take your carbines and go up-stream with a dozen horses until you come to the rifle-pits. be all ready. if i get clear through you won't hear any row, but if they sight or hear me before i get through, then, of course, there will be the biggest kind of an excitement, and you'll hear the shooting. the moment it begins, give a yell; fire your guns, go whooping up the stream with the horses as though the whole crowd were trying to cut out that way, but get right back. the excitement will distract them and help me. now, good-by, and good luck to you, crowd." "ray, will you have a nip before you try it? you must be nearly used up after this day's work." and he held out his flask to him. "no. i had some hot coffee just ten minutes ago, and i feel like a four-year-old. i'm riding new colors; didn't you know it? by jove!" he added, suddenly, "this is my first run under the preakness blue." even then and there he thought too quickly to speak her name. "now then, some of you crawl out to the south edge of the timber with me, and lie flat in the prairie and keep me in sight as long as you can." he took one more look at his revolver. "i'm drawing to a bob-tail. if i fail, i'll bluff; if i fill, i'll knock spots out of any threes in the cheyenne outfit." three minutes more and the watchers at the edge of the timber have seen him, leading dandy by the bridle, slowly, stealthily, creeping out into the darkness; a moment the forms of man and horse are outlined against the stars: then are swallowed up in the night. hunter and the sergeants with him grasp their carbines and lie prone upon the turf, watching, waiting. in the bivouac is the stillness of death. ten soldiers--carbines in hand--mounted on their unsaddled steeds are waiting in the darkness at the upper rifle-pits for hunter's signal. if he shouts, every man is to yell and break for the front. otherwise, all are to remain quiet. back at the watch-fire under the bank wayne is squatting, watch in one hand, pistol in the other. near by lie the wounded, still as their comrades just beyond,--the dead. all around among the trees and in the sand pits up- and down-stream, fourscore men are listening to the beating of their own hearts. in the distance, once in a while, is heard the yelp of coyote or the neigh of indian pony. in the distance, too, are the gleams of indian fires, but they are beyond the positions occupied by the besieging warriors. darkness shrouds them. far aloft the stars are twinkling through the cool and breezeless air. with wind, or storm, or tempest, the gallant fellow whom all hearts are following would have something to favor, something to aid; but in this almost cruel stillness nothing under god can help him,--nothing but darkness and his own brave spirit. "if i get through this scrape in safety," mutters wayne between his set teeth, "the --th shall never hear the last of this work of ray's." "if i get through this night," mutters ray to himself, far out on the prairie now, where he can hear tramping hoofs and guttural voices, "it will be the best run ever made for the sanford blue, though i do make it." nearly five minutes have passed, and the silence has been unbroken by shot or shout. the suspense is becoming unbearable in the bivouac, where every man is listening, hardly daring to draw breath. at last hunter, rising to his knees, which are all a-tremble with excitement, mutters to sergeant roach, who is still crouching beside him,-- "by heaven! i believe he'll slip through without being seen." hardly had he spoken when far, far out to the southwest two bright flashes leap through the darkness. before the report can reach them there comes another, not so brilliant. then, the ringing bang, bang of two rifles, the answering crack of a revolver. "quick, men. go!" yells hunter, and darts headlong through the timber back to the stream. there is a sudden burst of shots and yells and soldier cheers; a mighty crash and sputter and thunder of hoofs up the stream-bed; a few of the men at the west end, yelling like demons, dash in support of the mounted charge in the bed of the stream. for a minute or two the welkin rings with shouts, shots (mainly those of the startled indians), then there is as sudden a rush back to cover, without a man or horse hurt or missing. in the excitement and darkness the cheyennes could only fire wild, but now the night air resounds with taunts and yells and triumphant war-whoops. for full five minutes there is a jubilee over the belief that they have penned in the white soldiers after their dash for liberty. then, little by little, the yells and taunts subside. something has happened to create discussion in the cheyenne camps, for the crouching soldiers can hear the liveliest kind of a pow-wow far up-stream. what does it mean? has ray slipped through, or--have they caught him? despite pain and weakness, wayne hobbles out to where sergeant roach is still watching and asks for tidings. "i can't be sure, captain; one thing's certain, the lieutenant rode like a gale. i could follow the shots a full half-mile up the valley, where they seemed to grow thicker, and then stop all of a sudden in the midst of the row that was made down here. they've either given it up and have a big party out in chase, or else they've got him. god knows which. if they've got him, there'll be a scalp-dance over there in a few minutes, curse them!" and the sergeant choked. wayne watched some ten minutes without avail. nothing further was seen or heard that night to indicate what had happened to ray except once. far up the valley he saw a couple of flashes among the bluffs; so did roach, and that gave him hope that dandy had carried his master in safety that far at least. he crept back to the bank and cheered the wounded with the news of what he had seen. then another word came in ere long. an old sergeant had crawled out to the front, and could hear something of the shouting and talking of the indians. he could understand a few words only, though he had lived among the cheyennes nearly five years. they can barely understand one another in the dark, and use incessant gesticulation to interpret their own speech; but the sergeant gathered that they were upbraiding somebody for not guarding a coulee, and inferred that someone had slipped past their pickets or they wouldn't be making such a row. that the cheyennes did not propose to let the besieged derive much comfort from their hopes was soon apparent. out from the timber up the stream came sonorous voices shouting taunt and challenge, intermingled with the vilest expletives they had picked up from their cowboy neighbors, and all the frontier slang in the cheyenne vocabulary. "hullo! sogers; come out some more times. we no shoot. stay there: we come plenty quick. hullo! white chief, come fight fair; soger heap 'fraid! come, have scalp-dance plenty quick. catch white soldier; eat him heart bime by." "ah, go to your grandmother, the ould witch in hell, ye musthard-sthriped convict!" sings out some irrepressible paddy in reply, and wayne, who is disposed to serious thoughts, would order silence, but it occurs to him that mulligan's crude sallies have a tendency to keep the men lively. "i can't believe they've got him," he whispers to the doctor. "if they had they would soon recognize him as an officer and come bawling out their triumph at bagging a chief. his watch, his shoes, his spurs, his underclothing, would all betray that he was an officer, though he hasn't a vestige of uniform. pray god he is safe!" will you follow ray and see? curiosity is what lures the fleetest deer to death, and a more dangerous path than that which ray has taken one rarely follows. will you try it, reader--just you and i? come on, then. we'll see what our kentucky boy "got in the draw," as he would put it. ray's footfall is soft as a kitten's as he creeps out upon the prairie; dandy stepping gingerly after him, wondering but obedient. for over a hundred yards he goes, until both up- and down-stream he can almost see the faint fires of the indians in the timber. farther out he can hear hoof-beats and voices, so he edges along westward until he comes suddenly to a depression, a little winding "cooley" across the prairie, through which in the early spring the snows are carried off from some ravine among the bluffs. into this he noiselessly feels his way and dandy follows. he creeps along to his left and finds that its general course is from the southwest. he knows well that the best way to watch for objects in the darkness is to lie flat on low ground so that everything approaching may be thrown against the sky. his plain-craft tells him that by keeping in the water-course he will be less apt to be seen, but will surely come across some lurking indians. that he expects. the thing is to get as far through them as possible before being seen or heard, then mount and away. after another two minutes' creeping he peers over the western bank. now the fires up-stream can be seen in the timber, and dim, shadowy forms pass and repass. then close at hand come voices and hoof-beats. dandy pricks up his ears and wants to neigh, but ray grips his nostrils like a vise, and dandy desists. at rapid lope, within twenty yards, a party of half a dozen warriors go bounding past on their way down the valley, and no sooner have they crossed the gulley than he rises and rapidly pushes on up the dry sandy bed. thank heaven! there are no stones. a minute more and right in front of him, not a stone's throw away, he hears the deep tones of indian voices in conversation. whoever they may be they are in the "cooley" and watching the prairie. they can see nothing of him, nor he of them. pass them in the ten-foot-wide ravine he cannot. he must go back a short distance, make a sweep to the east so as not to go between those watchers and the guiding fires, then trust to luck. turning stealthily he brings dandy around, leads back down the ravine for some thirty yards, then turns to his horse, pats him gently one minute; "do your prettiest for your colors, my boy," he whispers; springs lightly, noiselessly to his back, and at cautious walk comes up on the level prairie, with the timber behind him three hundred yards away. southward he can see the dim outline of the bluffs. westward--once that little arroyo is crossed--he knows the prairie to be level and unimpeded, fit for a race; but he needs to make a detour to pass the indians guarding it, get away beyond them, cross it to the west far behind them, and then look out for stray parties. dandy ambles lightly along, eager for fun and little appreciating the danger. ray bends down on his neck, intent with eye and ear. he feels that he has got well out east of the indian picket unchallenged, when suddenly voices and hoofs come bounding up the valley from below. he must cross their front, reach the ravine before them, and strike the prairie beyond. "go, dandy!" he mutters with gentle pressure of leg, and the sorrel bounds lightly away, circling southwestward under the guiding rein. another minute and he is at the arroyo and cautiously descending, then scrambling up the west bank, and then from the darkness comes savage challenge, a sputter of pony hoofs. ray bends low and gives dandy one vigorous prod with the spur, and with muttered prayer and clinched teeth and fists he leaps into the wildest race for his life. bang! bang! go two shots close behind him. crack! goes his pistol at a dusky form closing in on his right. then come yells, shots, the uproar of hoofs, the distant cheer and charge at camp, a breathless dash for and close along under the bluffs where his form is best concealed, a whirl to the left into the first ravine that shows itself, and despite shots and shouts and nimble ponies and vengeful foes, the sanford colors are riding far to the front, and all the racers of the reservations cannot overhaul them. the final blow from "the true ulysses s. grant." chapter xxxviii. copyright, , by j. b. lippincott co. long months before the melancholy failure of that ill-omened bank, the general had told badeau of the fabulous profits the firm was realizing, and badeau went to their old comrade of the war and white house days--to horace porter--and asked that reticent but experienced soldier-citizen his opinion, and porter solemnly shook his head. such profits, he said, were impossible in a business honestly conducted. but grant saw on every side men by the dozen who had started with less than his modest capital and had gathered fortunes in wall street. he was so confident in the sagacity and judgment of ulysses, jr., that he invested his every dollar with the firm and reinvested every penny of the profits which he did not lavish on his loved ones or on his followers and friends. like thackeray's most lovable hero, colonel newcome, he thought to share his good fortune with many of his kith and kin and urged their sending their savings to be invested for them by brilliant young "buck" and his sagacious partner--that wonderful wizard of finance, mr. ward. aside from the chagrin of seeing some of his recommendations disregarded, and certain of his opponents regarded first by mr. garfield and later by mr. arthur, general grant was living in those years a life of ease, luxury, and freedom from care as never before he had enjoyed. julia dent was as ever first and foremost in his world, but the children were the source of pride and joy unmistakable. devoted, dutiful, and loyal they unquestionably were, but grant believed of his first born that he was destined to become renowned as a general, and of "buck" and jesse that they were born financiers and business men. as for princess nellie, the father's love and yearning for that one daughter of his house and name was beyond all measure. no man ever loved home, wife, and children more tenderly, more absorbingly. although widely scattered at the time, this heart-united household had been anticipating a blithe and merry christmas at the close of the year . when he was alighting from his carriage just before midnight, with the welcoming chimes pealing on the frosty air, the general's foot slipped on the icy pavement, he fell heavily, a muscle snapped in the thigh, possibly one of those injured twenty years earlier, the day of that fateful stumble at carrollton, and he was carried into the house, never thereafter to leave it in health or strength. crutches again, and later a cane, long were necessary. in march, they took him to fortress monroe so that he could hobble about in the soft air and sunshine. in april he was back again in gotham, able to drive his favorite team, but not to walk. on sunday, the th day of may, the wizard partner, ward, came into their home and quite casually announced that the marine bank of new york, in which grant & ward had large deposits, needed perhaps one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to tide them over a temporary difficulty. if general grant could borrow that much over monday, grant & ward would not have to lose a cent; otherwise they stood to lose perhaps fifty or sixty thousand. of course the lender would lose nothing, said ward, as there was a million, at least, of securities in the vaults. the world knows the rest--how unsuspiciously our general called on his friend and fellow horseman, mr. william h. vanderbilt, said that he needed one hundred and fifty thousand for a day or so, and came away with a cheque for that amount. for no other man probably would mr. vanderbilt have parted unsecured with such a sum. the cheque was promptly endorsed and turned over to mr. ward, who took it unconcernedly and then his leave. tuesday morning, may th, believing himself a millionaire and the brief indebtedness to vanderbilt already cancelled, grant alighted at the wall street office to find an ominous gathering. "father, you had better go home--the bank has failed," said ulysses, jr., with misery in his eyes, but grant stayed to investigate. badeau, the faithful, hastening in at noon, found the old chief seated in the rear office, calm in the midst of stress and storm. "we are all ruined here," he simply said. ward had vanished, the key of the vaults with him, and when they were finally opened, the boasted "securities" were found to be but shadows. the ruin was complete. everything they had--all the beautiful gifts, trophies, souvenirs, even the little houses owned by mrs. grant in washington, and the repurchased dent property about st. louis--had to be sold. grant insisted, though it left them, for the time at least, absolutely penniless. it had dragged down others with them; it involved his honored name in a whirlpool of censure, criticism, and calumny that well-nigh crushed him. fallen from such supremely high estate, the insults and indignities that beset him now far outweighed the slights and sneers that had been his portion in the days of his earlier humiliation. over the depths of the misery that had come to him in his old and recently honored age let us draw the curtain. no man on earth could know the suffering it cost him. only one woman could faintly see. helping hands there were outstretched to him instanter, and money to meet the immediate need. then, as the storm subsided and the extent of ward's villainy and grant's innocence became known, new measures were taken to provide against absolute want. a trust fund had already been raised. a measure was speedily set on foot to restore to grant the rank and pay which he had surrendered on assuming the presidency, and a modest competence would thus be insured him and those he loved. there was a home in which to live. they could even spend the summers at the seashore. there were offers of congenial occupation that might have proved mildly lucrative. there was measurable return to hope and possible health. there had never been complaint or repining. to all about him he had been gentleness, consideration, kindliness itself. there was just one cause of new, yet slight anxiety: all through that summer of ' , while at long branch, his throat had been giving him pain, and a philadelphia physician, examining it for the first time late in september, advised, even urged, says badeau, his consulting a specialist on returning to town. for a time he took no heed. he was writing now, long hours each day, but at last he called, as further urged by his own physician, upon that distinguished expert, dr. j. h. douglas, and that evening calmly admitted that the trouble in his throat was cancerous in tendency. and that this was true, the fact that he suddenly dropped the luxury of all the days that had followed donelson--his cigar--and the sufferings that followed in november and december proved beyond possibility of doubt.... and meanwhile a nation stood with bated breath and watched and prayed. crowds gathered about the house and importuned the physicians for tidings. congress had passed amid scenes of emphatic popular approval a bill restoring him again to the generalship of old--almost the last act signed by mr. arthur before leaving, as it was almost the first commission signed by mr. cleveland after entering, the white house. then presently, for quiet and for better air, as all remember, they bore him to the drexel cottage at mount mcgregor, near saratoga springs, and here, his voice utterly gone, compelled to make his wishes known by signs, compelled to complete the pages of his memoirs with pad and pencil, our stricken soldier indomitably held to his self-appointed task, once more "fighting it out on this line if it took all summer." never even at shiloh, in front of vicksburg, or in the fire-flashing wilderness was he more tenacious, determined, heroic, for now intense suffering accompanied almost every move and moment. physicians were constantly at hand; fred, the devoted son, ever at his side. here there came to see him and to sympathize old comrades--even old enemies--of the war days, all thought of rancor buried now. here, just as thirty years earlier he had hastened to offer aid, came buckner (and this time unprotesting) in unconditional surrender; for beneath the shadow of that hovering wing the last vestige of sectional pride gave way to fond memories of the old and firm friendship. here, almost as the twilight deepened into the gloom of night eternal, they bore him the tribute of honor and respect from men whom he had vehemently opposed--foeman-in-chief to the union, jefferson davis, and soldier-candidate and political foe, winfield s. hancock. here they read him letters, telegrams, editorials from every corner of the union he had striven to weld and secure, every line telling of worldwide sympathy, honor, and affection. here, almost at the last, he penciled those farewell pages of those fruitful volumes, which, whatever his earlier defects in style, have been declared classic in modern literature. here, ere the light went out forever, he wrote the pathetic missive, his final words of love, longing, and devotion to the wife whom he held peerless among women, to the children whom he loved with infinite tenderness, and for whose future comfort, even in the face of such persistent torment and impending death, he had labored to the very last. and then, as he completed the final paragraph--the story of his soldier-life and services--and with faltering hand signed the final letter, he closed his wearied eyes upon the group that hovered ever about him, eager to garner every look and whisper, and so the long fight ended, even as it had begun, almost without a sigh. apparently without consciousness of pain, certainly without struggle or suffering, surrounded by that devoted household--wife, sons, and only daughter--the greatest of our warriors passed onward into the valley of shadows, and to immortality. thirty years have passed since that which struck from our muster rolls the name of our first and foremost general--thirty years, as these pages are given to the light, since that summer day on which, with the highest honors and the greatest retinue ever accorded to american citizen or soldier, the flag-enshrouded casket was borne almost the length of all manhattan; hancock, the superb on many a battlefield, heading the league-long procession of soldiery, the world-garnered dignitaries from every state and clime. amidst the solemn thunder of the guns of the warships moored along the hudson, the farewell volleys of the troops aligned along the heights, in the presence of the president and cabinet, the supreme court and the diplomatic corps, the governors of nearly every commonwealth, eminent soldiers, sailors, veterans of the civil war, the gray mingling with the blue, and all engulfed in a vast multitude of mourners, the final prayers were said, the last benediction spoken, and under the shadow of the beloved flag he had served with such fidelity and to such eminent purpose, they laid to rest the honored soldier whose valiant service had secured to them and to their posterity the blessings of union, progress, and tranquility, and whose crowning message to the nation he had restored was the simple admonition, "let us have peace." and in those thirty years the people of our land have had abundant time to study and to reflect. each succeeding year adds to their reverence for their greatest friend, leader, and statesman, abraham lincoln. each succeeding year seems to increase their appreciation of their greatest soldier, ulysses grant, and yet it sometimes seems as though in the magnitude of the obstacles overcome, the immensity of the military problems solved, the supreme soldiership of the man has blinded us for the time to the other virtues, less heroic, perhaps, yet not less marked and true, virtues as son, as husband, father, and friend, not often equalled in other men, if ever excelled.... and was not his a marvelous career? cradled in the cottage, he spoke for years from the seat of the mightiest. chosen and trained for his country's wars, he loved best the arts of peace. schooled as a regular, he to the fullest extent and from the very first believed in the volunteer. ignored by book and bureau soldiers at the start, despite the fine record of the mexican campaigns, indebted to a western governor for the opportunity refused him by the war department, he held his modest way, uncomplaining, asking only to be made of use. one year had raised him from the twilight of a western town to the triumph of donelson; two years made him the victor of vicksburg, the head of the armies of the west; three had set him in supreme command, deferred to even by those who late as ' had sought to down him; four and the sword of the chivalric lee was his to do with as he would--the rebellion crushed, the war ended--and then, with our martyred lincoln lying in the grave ever watered by a nation's tears, small wonder was it that twice the people held grant long years at their head, and when he had returned, from that globe-circling triumphal progress, in large numbers would again have called him to the white house, an uncrowned monarch, the chosen of sovereign citizens. was he greater then than in the chain of ills that followed? tricked by those he trusted, himself unskilled in guile, ruined financially by those he had been taught to hold infallible, and finally confronted by the dread conviction that, though barely beyond the prime of life, his days were numbered--was he ever amid the thunder of saluting cannon and the cheers of countless multitudes so great as when, with the grim destroyer clutching at his throat, he fought for life that through those matchless memoirs he might earn the means to wipe out every possible obligation and provide in modest comfort, at least, for those he loved and must soon leave to mourn him? in those last heroic days at mt. mcgregor he stood revealed in his silent suffering, the ideal of devotion, endurance, and determination, until, his great work done, his toil and trials ended, his sword long since sheathed, his pen now dropping from the wearied, nerveless hand, he could turn to the peace ineffable and sink to rest--our greatest soldier--our honored president--our foremost citizen. aye, soldier, statesman, loyal citizen he was; and yet more, for in purity of life, in love of home and wife and children, in integrity unchallenged, in truth and honor unblemished, in manner simplicity itself--though ever coupled with that quiet dignity that made him peer among the princes of the earth--in speech so clean that oath or execration never soiled his lips, unswerving in his faith, a martyr to his friendships, merciful to the fallen, magnanimous to the foe, magnificent in self-discipline, was he not also, and in all that the grand old name implies, grant--the gentleman? john muir. john muir was born at dunbar, scotland, april , , and died at los angeles, california, december , . he attended school before he had completed his third year of age, but even before this time his grandfather had taught him the letters of the alphabet upon the signs in the vicinity. he remained in the scotch schools until he was eleven and made most valuable use of his time, as may be judged by his progress, especially in latin. at the age of eleven he had to leave school to accompany his father to the new home in the forests of wisconsin. upon their arrival in america after a voyage which was to john and his brother one constant round of happy experiences, there was no further opportunity for elementary schooling. his education became that of the toiler and he stored his mind with knowledge acquired from the observation of the plants and animals of the woods and lakes and from the association and study of the animals of the farm. he found opportunity to read the few books which came into his possession, but the strict regulation of the home made him read largely by snatches. his fertile brain was employed almost constantly in the matter of inventions. his duties on the farm comprised all activities from that of cultivating the fields to the building of houses and barns and the digging of wells. in his recent book "the story of my boyhood and youth," he has graphically described his work of digging a well by chiselling for nearly eighty feet through the solid granite. muir remained on the farm until he had attained his majority. he then went to the capitol of the state to exhibit some of his wonderful inventions at the state fair. this experience led to his employment in a shop in prairie du chien, where he worked part of the year. he then went to the university, where he earned his way during the four years of his course. he completed his course of study there with the class of , and then, according to his own statement, he plunged immediately into the work of geologist, explorer, and naturalist. his work was quite largely in the yosemite region of california and among the glaciers of the sierras and alaska. in the latter region during the year of he explored the glacier named after him. it was, however, his description of the yosemite valley that first brought him into prominence. he made an extended search for the de long arctic exploring party, which was lost in its effort to reach the far north. later he travelled, part of the time in company with john burroughs, through hawaii, russia, siberia, manchuria, india, australasia, and south america. no place, however, furnished him with such rich material about which to tell his thoughts as did his adopted home, california, and the newer alaska. in the later years of his life his residence was at martinez, california. he was married to louise strenzel in . to them was born a daughter, helen, who still lives in california and who was with her father at the time of his death. while john muir's experience as a pioneer in the forests of wisconsin, reveals the severe hardships of that life, it reveals many of the joys as well, and shows that his active brain was open to all the avenues of self education. field, forest, and lake were full of opportunities for him to observe and study, and as a result john and his brother, david, were fine naturalists, irrespective of books upon the subject. john's home life was rich in the companionship of brothers and sisters, and his mother was most sympathetic and helpful to him in his aspirations to know and to become the scholar. the scotch schools had given him such training as enabled him to use books as tools throughout his life. the necessities of the farm and home drove him to inventing means for getting things done. the result was that he soon became known as a genius, and this inventive work finally opened the way for his entrance into the university. so keen was john's desire to know and to invent that it became necessary for his father to drive him to bed too frequently, so he told the boy that if he wished to study, he should get up in the morning. john took his father at his word and managed to rise at two o'clock morning after morning to work upon his inventions. as a result of such efforts there was made a model of self-setting saw mill, a thermometer, clocks, an apparatus to get him up at the time desired, and later at the university a machine to make visible the growth of plants and the action of sunlight, a barometer, and a desk which automatically threw up, from a rack underneath, each book in the order of his studies during the day and withdrew it again when the time allotted for this study had expired. to accompany this wonderful invention, he furnished his bed with an adjustment that set him on his feet at the morning rising hour and at the same instant lighted his lamp. these seemingly incredible inventions are fully explained in "the story of my boyhood and youth," houghton mifflin company, . so eagerly did he pursue knowledge for its own sake while he was in the university that the old janitor was proud to point out muir's room to visitors many years after his departure. so valuable has been the work of this investigating mind that wisconsin, harvard, and yale universities have deemed it a pleasure to confer upon john muir honorary degrees. with his entire life devoted to research, he may truthfully be said to have been one of america's best educated men. he contributed extensively to the organization of scientific clubs and to scientific magazines. he was much interested in forest reservation and did much towards the plans which the government now employs. his work in connection with government regulated parks has been invaluable. as a writer muir is one of the most interestingly instructive we have had. his language is clear and lucid and he has a message which he carries directly to the heart and mind of his reader. besides his many magazine articles he has written the "mountains of california," ; "our national parks," ; "stickeen, the story of a dog," ; "my first summer in the sierra," ; "the yosemite," , and the "story of my boyhood and youth," . this last is one of the most interesting and inspiring books for young people that we have today. the muir homestead is twelve miles from portage, wisconsin. there were two farms, the spring fountain farm and the hickory hill farm. it is upon the latter that is found the well feet deep, eighty feet of which john chiselled through solid granite. to illustrate muir's interesting manner of presenting his observations we are adding the following selections from "the mountains of california," published by the century co. snow banners copyrighted by the century co., . the most magnificent storm phenomenon i ever saw, surpassing in showy grandeur the most imposing effects of clouds, floods, or avalanches, was the peaks of the high sierra, back of yosemite valley, decorated with snow-banners. many of the starry snow-flowers, out of which these banners are made, fall before they are ripe, while most of those that do attain perfect development as six-rayed crystals glint and chafe against one another in their fall through the frosty air, and are broken into fragments. this dry, fragmentary snow is still further prepared for the formation of banners by the action of the wind. for, instead of finding rest at once, like the snow which falls into the tranquil depths of the forests, it is rolled over and over, beaten against rock-ridges, and swirled in pits and hollows, like boulders, pebbles, and sand in the pot-holes of a river, until finally the delicate angles of the crystals are worn off, and the whole mass is reduced to dust. and whenever storm-winds find this prepared snow-dust in a loose condition on exposed slopes, where there is a free upward sweep to leeward, it is tossed back into the sky, and borne onward from peak to peak in the form of banners or cloudy drifts, according to the velocity of the wind and the conformation of the slopes up or around which it is driven. while thus flying through the air, a small portion makes good its escape, and remains in the sky again as vapor. but far the greater part, after being driven into the sky again and again, is at length locked fast in bossy drifts, or in the wombs of glaciers, some of it to remain silent and rigid for centuries before it is finally melted and sent singing down the mountainsides to the sea. yet, notwithstanding the abundance of winter snow-dust in the mountains, and the frequency of high winds, and the length of time the dust remains loose and exposed to their action, the occurrence of well-formed banners is, for causes we shall hereafter note, comparatively rare. i have seen only one display of this kind that seemed in every way perfect. this was in the winter of , when the snow-laden summits were swept by a wild "norther." i happened at the time to be wintering in yosemite valley, that sublime sierra temple where every day one may see the grandest sights. yet even here the wild gala-day of the north seemed surpassingly glorious. i was awakened in the morning by the rocking of my cabin and the beating of pine-burs on the roof. detached torrents and avalanches from the main wind-flood overhead were rushing wildly down the narrow side canyons, and over the precipitous walls, with loud resounding roar, rousing the pines to enthusiastic action, and making the whole valley vibrate as though it were an instrument being played. but afar on the lofty exposed peaks of the range standing so high in the sky, the storm was expressing itself in still grander characters, which i was soon to see in all their glory. i had long been anxious to study some points in the structure of the ice-cone that is formed every winter at the foot of the upper yosemite fall, but blinding spray by which it is invested had hitherto prevented me from making a sufficiently near approach. this morning the entire body of the fall was torn into gauzy shreds, and blown horizontally along the face of the cliff, leaving the cone dry; and while making my way to the top of an overlooking ledge to seize so favorable an opportunity to examine the interior of the cone, the peaks of the merced group came in sight over the shoulder of the south dome, each waving a resplendent banner against the blue sky, as regular in form, and as firm in texture, as if woven of fine silk. so rare and splendid a phenomenon, of course, overbore all other considerations, and i at once let the ice-cone go, and began to force my way out of the valley to some dome or ridge sufficiently lofty to command a general view of the main summits, feeling assured that i should find them bannered still more gloriously; nor was i in the least disappointed. indian canon, through which i climbed, was choked with snow that had been shot down in avalanches from the high cliffs on either side, rendering the ascent difficult; but inspired by the roaring storm, the tedious wallowing brought no fatigue, and in four hours i gained the top of a ridge above the valley, , feet high. and there in bold relief, like a clear painting, appeared a most imposing scene. innumerable peaks, black and sharp, rose grandly into the dark blue sky, their bases set in solid white, their sides streaked and splashed with snow, like ocean rocks with foam; and from every summit, all free and unconfused, was streaming a beautiful, silky, silvery banner, from half a mile to a mile in length, slender at the point of attachment, then widening gradually as it extended from the peak until it was about , or , feet in breadth, as near as i could estimate. the cluster of peaks called the "crown of the sierra," at the head of the merced and tuolumne rivers,--mounts dana, gibbs, conness, lyell, maclure, ritter, with their nameless compeers,--each had its own refulgent banner, waving with a clearly visible motion in the sun glow, and there was not a single cloud in the sky to mar their simple grandeur. fancy yourself standing on this yosemite ridge looking eastward. you notice a strange garish glitter in the air. the gale drives wildly overhead with a fierce, tempestuous roar, but its violence is not felt, for you are looking through a sheltered opening in the woods as through a window. there, in the immediate foreground of your picture, rises a majestic forest of silver fir blooming in eternal freshness, the foliage yellow-green, and the snow beneath the trees strewn with their beautiful plumes, plucked off by the wind. beyond, and extending over all the middle ground, are somber swaths of pine, interrupted by huge swelling ridges and domes; and just beyond the dark forest you see the monarchs of the high sierra waving their magnificent banners. they are twenty miles away, but you would not wish them nearer, for every feature is distinct, and the whole glorious show is seen in its right proportions. after this general view, mark how sharply the dark, snowless ribs and buttresses and summits of the peaks are defined, excepting the portions veiled by the banners, and how delicately their sides are streaked with snow, where it has come to rest in narrow flutings and gorges. mark, too, how grandly the banners wave as the wind is deflected against their sides, and how trimly each is attached to the very summit of its peak, like a streamer at a masthead; how smooth and silky they are in texture, and how finely their fading fringes are penciled on the azure sky. see how dense and opaque they are at the point of attachment, and how filmy and translucent toward the end, so that the peaks back of them are seen dimly, as though you were looking through ground glass. yet again, observe how some of the longest, belonging to the loftiest summits, stream perfectly free all the way across intervening notches and passes from peak to peak, while others overlap and partly hide each other. and consider how keenly every particle of this wondrous cloth of snow is flashing out jets of light. these are the main features of the beautiful and terrible picture as seen from the forest window; and it would still be surpassingly glorious were the fore and middle grounds obliterated altogether, leaving only the black peaks, the white banners and the blue sky. glancing now in a general way at the formation of snow-banners, we find that the main causes of the wondrous beauty and perfection of those we have been contemplating were the favorable direction and great force of the wind, the abundance of snow-dust, and the peculiar conformation of the slopes of the peaks. it is essential not only that the wind should move with great velocity and steadiness to supply a sufficiently copious and continuous stream of snow dust, but that it should come from the north. no perfect banner is ever hung on the sierra peaks by a south wind. had the gale that day blown from the south, leaving other conditions unchanged, only a dull, confused, fog-like drift would have been produced; for the snow, instead of being spouted up over the tops of the peaks in concentrated currents to be drawn out as streamers, would have been shed off around the sides, and piled down into glacier wombs. the cause of the concentrated action of the north wind is found in the peculiar form of the north sides of the peaks, where the amphitheaters of the residual glaciers are. in general, the south sides are convex and irregular, while the north sides are concave both in their vertical and horizontal sections; the wind in ascending these curves converges toward the summits, carrying the snow in concentrating currents with it, shooting it almost straight up into the air above the peaks, from which it is then carried away in a horizontal direction. this difference in form between the north and south sides of the peaks was almost wholly produced by the difference in the kind and quantity of the glaciation to which they have been subjected, the north sides having been hollowed by residual shadow-glaciers of a form that never existed on the sun-beaten sides. it appears, therefore, that shadows in a great part determine not only the forms of lofty icy mountains, but also those of the snow-banners that the wild winds hang on them. ella wheeler wilcox. "if you haven't what you like, try to like what you have." in this quotation is found the philosophy of life during many severe trials of one whose girlhood and early career as a writer were spent entirely within the confines of wisconsin. ella wheeler was born at johnstown center, wisconsin, sometime in the ' 's, and the family moved to a farm near madison when she was a year old. the discussion of her life given here is derived quite largely from her own statements in an article, "my autobiography," published in the cosmopolitan magazine for august, . mrs. wheeler, ella's mother, was a woman of some literary inclinations and was very fond of reading. she loved not only the good society of books, but she longed also for the pleasures of the social life of a cultured community such as she had known in her vermont home. pioneer life was especially irksome to her, and she found herself unable to meet patiently the many hardships that the change of fortune had brought her, and her attitude in the home was not always buoyant. some time after the home was established in wisconsin, there was born to these parents their fourth child, ella, the future poetess. it may not be too much to say, since mrs. wilcox seems to think it herself, that from the struggles of the father to meet the hardships that his new life brought him, may have sprung that bit of wholesome philosophy which stands at the head of this discussion. it is evident that she found many opportunities to test it to the utmost. from the suppressed literary desires of the mother may have come the intense longing of the daughter to achieve helpfulness through writing. from the standpoint of language training this home was far from limited, and ella had opportunities here accorded to the minority of children even at the present time. she says: "my mother was a great reader of whatever came in her way, and was possessed of a wonderful memory. the elder children were excellent scholars, and a grammatical error was treated as a cardinal sin in the household." that ella profited from this inheritance and training may be seen from the following statements. at school she found the composition exercises the most delightful of all her school duties. as early as eight she was excelling in the expression of her thoughts in essay form. by the age of fourteen she had become the neighborhood celebrity because of her stories and her poetry. naturally these pioneer people would criticise the mother for allowing ella to scribble so much when she might have been doing household or farm tasks; but their criticism was silenced, and they learned to praise her efforts when they found that there was a market with the magazines and papers for ella's "scribblings." at the age of fourteen ella wheeler's education, "excellent in grammar, spelling and reading, but wretched in mathematics," was completed so far as the rural school was concerned. sometime later, through great sacrifice on the part of her people, she was placed for one term in the university of wisconsin. of this experience she says: "i was not at all happy there; first, because i knew the strain it put upon the home purse; second, because i felt the gulf between myself and the town girls, whose gowns and privileges revealed to me for the first time, the different classes in american social life; and third, because i wanted to write and did not want to study." thus her school work ended and her acquisition of knowledge necessary to furnish details for her emotional poems has been made through her individual study since the university experience. ella wheeler's struggle to become a writer is one of the most inspiring stories among wisconsin writers. a weekly paper came to the home and besides this there was an old red chest in their upstairs wherein there was kept the often-read copies of arabian nights, gulliver's travels, john gilpin's ride, and a few of shakespeare's plays. in addition to these, friends had sent the family the new york ledger and the new york mercury. the serial stories of these papers furnished not only pleasing reading, but models of plots and of forms of expression which became the guide to her in the art of story writing. when ella was thirteen years old the mercury ceased to come to her home, and she regretted the loss of the stories so much that she determined to write something for the paper with the hope that the publisher would pay for her article through subscription. after some delay this brought the much coveted subscription and she says: "perhaps the most triumphant and dramatic hour of my life was when i set forth and announced to the family that my literary work had procured the coveted mercury for our united enjoyment." this experience led her to write extensively for the magazines and papers, a list of which a university friend had sent her. the articles which they accepted soon enabled her to supply the home with many periodicals and books and other articles of home use. she was not content with writing essays very long, but soon undertook the production of verse. her first poem was rejected by the mercury with some degree of scorn, but she soon offered it to other papers and so continued until she found a publisher. very frequently some of her articles would be returned as many as nine times before she found a publisher. the wheeler family were enthusiastic advocates of total abstinence, and ella used her pen to advance this cause. her first collection of poems into book form was entitled "drops of water." a poem with temperance as its theme is given as the first illustration of her efforts in the collection published here. ella wheeler's training tended to make her the lyric rather than the narrative poetess. she wrote largely of the emotion that played through her passing experiences. "everything in life," she says, "was material for my own emotions, the remarks or experiences of my comrades and associates, sentences from books i read, and some phases of nature." in general three things may be said to characterize these short poems and her own life as revealed by them, for her life itself is a poem. first, she is convinced that the supreme thing in life is love. in one poem she asserts that love is the need of the world. in another, "the kingdom of love," which is given later, she truthfully proclaims that love is the very essence of the home. the second characteristic is her spirit of buoyancy which has enabled her to surmount the many crushing deprivations and disappointments in her life. she was born with an unquenchable hope and an unfaltering trust in god and guardian spirits. "i often wept myself to sleep after a day of disappointment and worries," she says, "but woke in the morning singing aloud with the joy of life." it was such experiences as these that enabled her to say: "laugh and the world laughs with you; weep and you weep alone." her faith in the better things to be is well expressed in the little poem, "the tendril's fate." trials to her are frequently the means by which the soul's true worth is tested. this thought is expressed in the poem, "three friends." she bears trials not merely for her own sake, but for the sake of those about her. we are illustrating this quality with the poem "ambition's trail." her faith that life has still much that is better than the present may be illustrated by her morning prayer. the third characteristic manifest in her poetry is that of the spirit of helpfulness that manifests itself in every new phase of life that she assumes. this attitude is illustrated with respect to mankind in general and also with respect to her own sex. the poems used are "i am" and "which are you?" with love and helpfulness as the bond which unite mankind, mrs. wilcox feels there is no place for strife and warfare. she assails war and expresses her conviction that womankind shall have much to do with the final disarmament of nations. she believes implicitly in the mutual helpfulness of man and woman in solving the great problems of the world. her own home life is one of constant happiness and of constant useful activity. when asked to express what life means to her she wrote an article for the cosmopolitan which began thus: "exhilaration, anticipation, realization, usefulness, growth--these things life has always meant and is meaning to me. i expected much of life; it has given, in all ways, more than i expected. love has been more loyal and lasting, friendship sweeter and more comprehensive, work more enjoyable, and fame, because of its aid to usefulness, more satisfying than early imagination pictured." of one whose ideals of life are so high the state should be justly proud and its people should delight to hear her sing: "i know we are building our heaven as we journey along by the way; each thought is a nail that is driven in structures that cannot decay, and the mansion at last shall be given to us as we build it today." it was not until after her return from the university that ella wheeler discovered that her poems had a money value. she sent frank leslie's publishing house three little poems written in one day. these were accepted and a check sent her for ten dollars. she now bent every effort towards making her literary efforts return substantial aid to herself and her family. it was all her own effort and the worth of her productions that brought her success, for she had no one to aid her in securing publication. she sent her poems to various magazines,--a practise she still continues. during the years and , she had poems and prose productions listed in the following periodicals: current literature, everybody's, good housekeeping, ladies' home journal, collier's magazine, new england magazine, the bookman, lippincott's, forum, cosmopolitan, musician, current opinion, and hearst's magazine. mrs. wilcox has attempted only one long narrative poem, "maurine." in this she endeavors to set forth the doctrine of what she regards as the highest type of friendship. her collections of poems bear the following titles: drops of water, shells, poems of passion, three women, an ambitious man, everyday, thought in prose and verse, poems of pleasure, kingdom of love and other poems, an erring woman's love, men, women and emotions, the beautiful land of nod, poems of power, the heart of the new thought, sonnets of abelard and heloise, poems of experience, yesterday, poems of progress, maurine, and poems of problems. some time after a brief venture in editorial work, she was married, , to robert m. wilcox, a business man of new york city. their home life in the city and by the seashore at granite bay, short beach, connecticut, has been most delightful to them. they have been able to travel extensively and in this manner to realize many of mrs. wilcox's early dreams. the following poems are from "the kingdom of love" and "poems of power." [illustration: ella wheeler wilcox] the two glasses the following poems of mrs. ella wheeler wilcox are reprinted here by permission of the publishers from her copyrighted books, of which w. b. conkey co., chicago, are the exclusive american publishers. there sat two glasses filled to the brim, on a rich man's table, rim to rim. one was ruddy and red as blood, and one was clear as the crystal flood. said the glass of wine to his paler brother: "let us tell tales of the past to each other. i can tell of a banquet, and revel, and mirth, where i was king, for i ruled in might; for the proudest and grandest souls on earth fell under my touch, as though struck with blight. from the heads of kings i have torn the crown; from the heights of fame i have hurled men down. i have blasted many an honored name; i have taken virtue and given shame; i have tempted the youth with a sip, a taste, that has made his future a barren waste. far greater than any king am i or than any army beneath the sky. i have made the arm of the driver fail, and sent the train from the iron rail. i have made good ships go down at sea, and the shrieks of the lost were sweet to me. fame, strength, wealth, genius before me fall; and my might and power are over all! ho, ho! pale brother," said the wine, "can you boast of deeds as great as mine?" said the water glass; "i can not boast of a king dethroned, or a murdered host, but i can tell of hearts that were sad by my crystal drops made bright and glad; of thirst i have quenched, and brows i have laved; of hands i have cooled, and souls i have saved. i have leaped through the valley, and dashed down the mountain, slept in the sunshine and dripped from the fountain. i have burst my cloud-fetters, and dropped from the sky, and everywhere gladdened the prospects and eye; i have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain; i have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain. i can tell of the powerful wheel of the mill, that ground out the flour, and turned at my will, i can tell of manhood debased by you, that i have uplifted and crowned anew. i cheer, i help, i strengthen and aid; i gladden the hearts of man and maid; i set the wine-chained captive free, and all are better for knowing me." these are the tales they told each other, the glass of wine and its paler brother, as they sat together, filled to the brim, on a rich man's table rim to rim. the kingdom of love in the dawn of the day when the sea and the earth reflected the sun-rise above, i set forth with a heart full of courage and mirth to seek for the kingdom of love. i asked of a poet i met on the way which cross-road would lead me aright. and he said: "follow me, and ere long you shall see its glittering turrets of light." and soon in the distance the city shone fair. "look yonder," he said; "how it gleams!" but alas! for the hopes that were doomed to despair, it was only the "kingdom of dreams." then the next man i asked was a gay cavalier, and he said: "follow me, follow me;" and with laughter and song we went speeding along by the shores of life's beautiful sea. then we came to a valley more tropical far than the wonderful vale of cashmere, and i saw from a bower a face like a flower smile out on the gay cavalier. and he said: "we have come to humanity's goal: here love and delight are intense." but alas and alas! for the hopes of my soul-- it was only the "kingdom of sense." as i journeyed more slowly i met on the road a coach with retainers behind. and they said: "follow me, for our lady's abode belongs in that realm, you will find." 'twas a grand dame of fashion, a newly-made bride, i followed encouraged and bold; but my hopes died away like the last gleams of day, for we came to the "kingdom of gold." at the door of a cottage i asked a fair maid. "i have heard of that realm," she replied; "but my feet never roam from the 'kingdom of home,' so i know not the way," and she sighed. i looked on the cottage; how restful it seemed! and the maid was as fair as a dove. great light glorified my soul as i cried: "why, home is the 'kingdom of love.'" the tendril's fate under the snow in the dark and the cold, a pale little sprout was humming; sweetly it sang, 'neath the frozen mold, of the beautiful days that were coming. "how foolish your songs," said a lump of clay, "what is there," it asked, "to prove them?" "just look at the walls between you and the day, now have you the strength to move them?" but under the ice and under the snow, the pale little sprout kept singing, "i cannot tell how, but i know, i know, i know what the days are bringing. "birds and blossoms and buzzing bees, blue, blue skies above me, bloom on the meadows and buds on the trees, and the great glad sun to love me." a pebble spoke next. "you are quite absurd," it said, "with your songs' insistence; for i never saw a tree or a bird, so of course there are none in existence." "but i know, i know," the tendril cried in beautiful sweet unreason; till lo! from its prison, glorified, it burst in the glad spring season. three friends of all the blessings which my life has known, i value most, and most praise god for three: want, loneliness, and pain, those comrades true, who masqueraded in the garb of foes for many a year, and filled my heart with dread. yet fickle joy, like false, pretentious friends, has proved less worthy than this trio. first, want taught me labor, led me up the steep and toilsome paths to hills of pure delight, trod only by the feet that know fatigue, and yet press on until the heights appear. then loneliness and hunger of the heart sent me upreaching to the realms of space, till all the silences grew eloquent, and all their loving forces hailed me friend. last, pain taught prayer! placed in my hand the staff of close communion with the over-soul, that i might lean upon it to the end, and find myself made strong for any strife. and then these three who had pursued my steps like stern, relentless foes, year after year, unmasked, and turned their faces full on me. and lo! they were divinely beautiful, for through them shown the lustrous eyes of love. ambition's trail if all the end of this continuous striving were simply to attain, how poor would seem the planning and contriving, the endless urging and the hurried driving of body, heart and brain! but ever in the wake of true achieving, there shines this glowing trail-- some other soul will be spurred on, conceiving new strength and hope, in its own power believing, because thou didst not fail. not thine alone the glory, nor the sorrow, if thou dost miss the goal; undreamed of lives in many a far to-morrow from thee their weakness or their force shall borrow-- on, on! ambitious soul. morning prayer let me today do something that shall take a little sadness from the world's vast store, and may i be so favored as to make of joy's too scanty sum a little more. let me not hurt, by any selfish deed or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend; nor would i pass, unseeing, worthy need, or sin by silence when i should defend. however meagre be my worldly wealth let me give something that shall aid my kind, a word of courage, or a thought of help, dropped as i pass for troubled hearts to find. let me tonight look back across the span 'twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say because of some good act to beast or man-- "the world is better that i lived today." i am i know not whence i came, i know not whither i go; but the fact stands clear that i am here in this world of pleasure and woe. and out of the mist and murk another truth shines plain: it is my power each day and hour to add to its joy or its pain. i know that the earth exists, it is none of my business why; i cannot find out what it's all about, i would but waste time to try. my life is a brief, brief thing, i am here for a little space, and while i stay i should like, if i may, to brighten and better the place. the trouble, i think, with us all is the lack of a high conceit. if each man thought he was sent to this spot to make it a bit more sweet, how soon we could gladden the world, how easily right all wrong, if nobody shirked, and each one worked to help his fellows along. cease wondering why you came-- stop looking for faults and flaws, rise up today in your pride and say, "i am a part of the first great cause! however full the world, there is room for an earnest man. it had need of me or i would not be-- i am here to strengthen the plan." which are you? there are two kinds of people on earth today; just two kinds of people, no more, i say. not the sinner and saint, for 'tis well understood, the good are half bad, and the bad are half good. not the rich and the poor, for to rate a man's wealth, you must first know the state of his conscience and health. not the humble and proud, for in life's little span, who puts on vain airs, is not counted a man. not the happy and sad, for the swift flying years bring each man his laughter and each man his tears. no; the kinds of people on earth i mean, are the people who lift and the people who lean. wherever you go, you will find the earth's masses are always divided in just these two classes. and, oddly enough, you will find too, i ween, there's only one lifter to twenty who lean. in which class are you? are you easing the load of overtaxed lifters, who toil down the road? or are you a leaner, who lets others share your portion of labor, and worry and care? ray stannard baker. (david grayson.) ray stannard baker was born in at lansing, michigan, and came to st. croix falls, wisconsin, with his parents at the age of five. here he spent his boyhood and youth. he returned to the agricultural college of his native state for study, and received his degree from that institution, afterwards attending the university for a short time. he then went into business with his father at st. croix falls, but the desire to write was strong upon him, and he began his career of authorship. during recent years his residence has been in amherst, massachusetts, but he visits wisconsin every summer. he is one of the state's most voluminous writers. he has the habit of keen and sympathetic observation, and this quality, when combined, as it has been in his case, with extensive and judicious travel and reading, usually results in a considerable literary output. those of us who have read mr. baker's magazine articles and books feel that the writer has seen a great many things,--that he has seen them with his own eyes, and that he has seen them intelligently. aside from the fact that nearly all of his works grow rather from observation of men and things than from a study of philosophy or metaphysics, mr. baker's range of interest has been exceedingly wide. perhaps he is best known as a writer on social, political, and economic subjects, but the selections given here from "the boys' book of inventions," (i and ii), indicate a field of interest that is entirely apart from politics. the editors feel bound, in justice to mr. baker, to say that he feared that our readers would think that we had erred in choosing the accounts of inventions which have progressed so immeasurably since his articles were written. the editors, on the other hand, desired to do precisely the thing that mr. baker feared to have them do. they desire to show what a keen, well-trained observer saw in these inventions, which now play so vital a part in our lives, when the inventions were new. further, it is our desire that the name of professor langley, of washington, d. c., should be properly honored in connection with the advance of the science of aviation. indeed, but recently, when tried by an experienced aviator, his machine flew successfully. professor langley died as an indirect result of his untiring, unselfish, and heroic efforts in this then new cause. in spite of ridicule and contempt, in spite of lack of support, he went courageously ahead; and it is right that the boys of wisconsin should know that a young man of their state has given due credit in his book to this heroic soul. [illustration: ray stannard baker] through the air from "the boys' book of inventions," chapter ix, by ray stannard baker. copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. probably no american inventor of flying machines is better known or has been more successful in his experiments than professor s. p. langley, the distinguished secretary of the smithsonian institution at washington. professor langley has built a machine with wings, driven by a steam-engine, and wholly without gas or other lifting power beyond its own internal energy. and this machine, to which has been given the name aerodrome (air-runner), actually flies for considerable distances. so successful were professor langley's early tests, that the united states government recently made a considerable appropriation to enable him to carry forward his experiments in the hope of finally securing a practical flying machine. his work is, therefore, the most significant and important of any now before the public ( ). the invention of the aerodrome was the result of long years of persevering and exacting labor, with so many disappointments and set-backs that one cannot help admiring the astonishing patience which kept hope alive to the end. early in his experiments, professor langley had proved positively, by mathematical calculations, that a machine could be made to fly, provided its structure were light enough and the actuating power great enough. therefore, he was not in pursuit of a mere will-o'-the-wisp. it was a mechanical difficulty which he had to surmount, and he surmounted it. professor langley made his first experiments more than twelve years ago at allegheny, pennsylvania.... professor langley formed the general conclusion that by simply moving any given weight in plate form fast enough in a horizontal path through the air it was possible to sustain it with very little power. it was proved that, if horizontal flight without friction could be insured, pounds of plates could be moved through the air and sustained upon it at the speed of an express train, with the expenditure of only one horse-power, and that, of course, without using any gas to lighten the weight. every boy who has skated knows that when the ice is very thin he must skate rapidly, else he may break through. in the same way, a stone may be skipped over the water for considerable distances. if it stops in any one place it sinks instantly. in exactly the same way, the plate of brass, if left in any one place in the air, would instantly drop to the earth; but if driven swiftly forward in a horizontal direction it rests only an instant in any particular place, and the air under it at any single moment does not have time to give way, so to speak, before it has passed over a new area of air. in fact, professor langley came to the conclusion that flight was theoretically possible with engines he could then build, since he was satisfied that engines could be constructed to weigh less than twenty pounds to the horse-power, and that one horse-power would support two hundred pounds if the flight was horizontal. that was the beginning of the aerodrome. professor langley had worked out its theory, and now came the much more difficult task of building a machine in which theory should take form in fact. in the first place, there was the vast problem of getting an engine light enough to do the work. a few years ago an engine that developed one horse-power weighed nearly as much as an actual horse. professor langley wished to make one weighing only twenty pounds, a feat never before accomplished. and then, having made his engine, how was he to apply the power to obtain horizontal speed? should it be by flapping wings like a bird, or by a screw propeller like a ship? this question led him into a close study of the bird compared with the man. he found how wonderfully the two were alike in bony formation, how curiously the skeleton of a bird's wing was like a man's arm, and yet he finally decided that flapping wings would not make the best propeller for his machine. men have not adopted machinery legs for swift locomotion, although legs are nature's models, but they have, rather, constructed wheels--contrivances which practically do not exist in nature. therefore, while professor langley admits that successful flying machines may one day be made with flapping wings, he began his experiments with the screw propeller. there were three great problems in building the flying machine. first, an engine and boilers light enough and at the same time of sufficient power. second, a structure which should be rigid and very light. third, the enormously difficult problem of properly balancing the machine, which, professor langley says, took years to solve.... professor langley established an experimental station in the potomac river, some miles below washington. an old scow was obtained, and a platform about twenty feet high was built on top of it. to this spot, in , the machine was taken, and here failure followed failure; the machine would not fly properly, and yet every failure, costly as it might be in time and money, brought some additional experience. professor langley found out that the aerodrome must begin to fly against the wind, just in the opposite way from a ship. he found that he must get up full speed in his engine before the machine was allowed to go, in the same way that a soaring bird must make an initial run on the ground before it can mount into the air, and this was, for various reasons, a difficult problem. and then there was the balancing. "if the reader will look at the hawk or any soaring bird," says professor langley, "he will see that as it sails through the air without flapping the wing, there are hardly two consecutive seconds of its flight in which it is not swaying a little from side to side, lifting one wing or the other, or turning in a way that suggests an acrobat on a tight-rope, only that the bird uses its widely outstretched wings in place of the pole." it must be remembered that air currents, unlike the gulf stream, do not flow steadily in one direction. they are forever changing and shifting, now fast, now slow, with something of the commotion and restlessness of the rapids below niagara. all of these things professor langley had to meet as a part of the difficult balancing problem, and it is hardly surprising that nearly three years passed before the machine was actually made to fly--on march , . "i had journeyed, perhaps for the twentieth time," says professor langley, "to the distant river station, and recommenced the weary routine of another launch, with very moderate expectation indeed; and when, on that, to me, memorable afternoon the signal was given and the aerodrome sprang into the air, i watched it from the shore with hardly a hope that the long series of accidents had come to a close. and yet it had, and for the first time the aerodrome swept continuously through the air like a living thing, and as second after second passed on the face of the stop-watch, until a minute had gone by, and it still flew on, and as i heard the cheering of the few spectators, i felt that something had been accomplished at last; for never in any part of the world, or in any period, had any machine of man's construction sustained itself in the air before for even half of this brief time. still the aerodrome went on in a rising course until, at the end of a minute and a half (for which time only it was provided with fuel and water), it had accomplished a little over half a mile, and now it settled, rather than fell, into the river, with a gentle descent. it was immediately taken out and flown again with equal success, nor was there anything to indicate that it might not have flown indefinitely, except for the limit put upon it." marconi and his great achievements--new experiments in wireless telegraphy from "second book of inventions," chapter vii, by ray stannard baker. copyright, , by doubleday, page & co. at noon on thursday (december , ), marconi sat waiting, a telephone receiver at his ear, in a room of the old barracks on signal hill. to him it must have been a moment of painful stress and expectation. arranged on the table before him, all its parts within easy reach of his hand, was the delicate receiving instrument, the supreme product of years of the inventor's life, now to be submitted to a decisive test. a wire ran out through the window, thence to a pole, thence upward to the kite which could be seen swaying high overhead. it was a bluff, raw day; at the base of the cliff feet below thundered a cold sea; oceanward through the mist rose dimly the rude outlines of cape spear, the easternmost reach of the north american continent. beyond that rolled the unbroken ocean, nearly , miles to the coast of the british isles. across the harbor the city of st. john's lay on its hillside wrapped in fog; no one had taken enough interest in the experiments to come up here through the snow to signal hill. even the ubiquitous reporter was absent. in cabot tower, near at hand, the old signalman stood looking out to sea, watching for ships, and little dreaming of the mysterious messages coming that way from england. standing on that bleak hill and gazing out over the waste of water to the eastward, one finds it difficult indeed to realize that this wonder could have become a reality. the faith of the inventor in his creation, in the kite-wire, and in the instruments which had grown under his hand, was unshaken. "i believed from the first," he told me, "that i would be successful in getting signals across the atlantic." only two persons were present that thursday afternoon in the room where the instruments were set up--mr. marconi and mr. kemp. everything had been done that could be done. the receiving apparatus was of unusual sensitiveness, so that it would catch even the faintest evidence of the signals. a telephone receiver, which is no part of the ordinary instrument, had been supplied, so that the slightest clicking of the dots might be conveyed to the inventor's ear. for nearly half an hour not a sound broke the silence of the room. then quite suddenly mr. kemp heard the sharp click of the tapper as it struck against the coherer; this, of course, was not the signal, yet it was an indication that something was coming. the inventor's face showed no evidence of excitement. presently he said: "see if you can hear anything, kemp." mr. kemp took the receiver, and a moment later, faintly and yet distinctly and unmistakably, came three little clicks--the dots of the letter s, tapped out an instant before in england. at ten minutes past one, more signals came, and both mr. marconi and mr. kemp assured themselves again and again that there could be no mistake. during this time the kite gyrated so wildly in the air that the receiving wire was not maintained at the same height, as it should have been; but again, at twenty minutes after two, other repetitions of the signal were received. thus the problem was solved. one of the great wonders of science had been wrought. the roping at pasco's by ray stannard baker, mcclure's magazine, vol xix. p. . copyright, , by s. s. mcclure company. ... little groups of people were drifting by to the grand stand. here and there, from the corner of his eye, as he bent to adjust the saddle-cinches, turk mcglory caught the glint of a white skirt or of a flowing ribbon. sometimes the girls stopped to discuss the contestants; he heard them talking of bud oliver, and mason, and buster graham. suddenly, as he tightened a latigo strap, a saucy, smiling face looked up at him. her sister was evidently trying to pull her away, but she said, half teasingly: "i'm wearing your colors, mr. texas. you must win." he saw nothing but deep black eyes, and he felt the blood in his face. he couldn't have spoken if he had known that it was to save his life, and he knew that he was smiling foolishly.... "we're betting on you, bud oliver," came other shouts. the texas men were not over-popular in arizona, and yet it was a sportsmanlike crowd. the babel of voices ceased sharply. a wiry little steer, red and white, shot into the field as if catapulted. turk mcglory observed how like an antelope it ran--long-legged and as easily as the wind blows. the flag fell, and bud was off; the judges riding after him were blurred in his dust. there was no roper like bud. he waited long before raising his rope, bending close to his saddle and riding hard; then in what curious, loose, slow coils he swung it! would he ride clean over his steer? there! he had reached out as if to catch the steer by the tail, and the rope had gone over his head like a hoop, horns and all. now he was paying out to trip up the steer. how they were running! turk mcglory rose suddenly in his saddle. "look out for the fence," he roared. but bud had seen it, too, and the little roan squatted like a rabbit. the steer, reaching the rope's end, doubled up and fell--but fell against the fence. there had not been quite room enough. bud was off saddle, and the little roan, knowing well what was going on, walked away like a man, pulling hard on the rope to keep the steer down. if it had been a larger steer or a fatter one, there would have been no trouble; but this one fought like a cat, now on its knees, now on its feet. bud seized it by the tail, and with a single fierce toss he laid it flat, then he tied--and arms up. turk mcglory waited with hands clenched to hear the time. "fifty seconds." so bud was beaten by a second, and beaten because he didn't have a fair field. how the crowd howled for the arizona champion. bud came up smiling and unconcerned. "now, mcglory," he said, "you must make a showing for texas." "what am i offered on turk mcglory against the field?" shouted the pool-seller. "now's your last chance." "hurrah for the kid from texas!" shouted other voices. turk mcglory was at the line, astonished to find himself coiling his rope with so much ease. he felt that he wasn't doing it himself, but that some one else was working in him. the sun blazed hot on the field, but everything seemed dim and indistinct. to him all the voices kept shouting: "turk mcglory, turk mcglory, turk mcglory." "hurrah for texas and the calico horse," came a shout from the grand stand. "wait till they see you run, pinto," turk said between his teeth, and the pinto stirred nervously under him. "ready," called turk mcglory, though not in turk mcglory's voice. he gave one glance behind him. the grand stand was a picture of a girl in blue and white; she was the picture, all the rest was frame. there was a clatter at the pen, and the steer shot past him. instantly he saw all its points--horns, legs, tail--and they spoke to him with the meaning of familiarity. so might the old knight have looked for the points of his adversary's armour. now that he was off, turk's head cleared to his work. the steer ran with hind feet swinging sideways, hog-like. he remembered a steer in the lazy a outfit that had the same habit, and a bad one it was, too. how strange that he should think of such things at such a time! the steer was swerving swiftly to the left. the pinto, nose forward and dilating, instantly slackened pace, swerving in the same direction and cutting off distance. it was much to have a horse, pinto though he be, that knew his business. turk's rope began to swing, but he was wholly unconscious of it. he seemed now to see only the legless body of a steer swimming on a billow of dust. the fence! he saw it with a throb, and he was yet too far off to throw. and there was the grand stand above it, the men rising, half in terror, and a color of women. the steer had swung almost round. it was a low rail fence, and between it and the grand stand lay the racing track. dimly mcglory heard shouts of warning. would the steer plunge into the stand? dimly, too, glancing back, he saw the other cow-men charging after him to the rescue. there was a crash; the steer had gone through the fence as if it were pasteboard, and the pinto was now close behind. there was all too little room here in the track. the steer would evidently plunge full into the crowd. turk mcglory's arm shot forward and the rope sped. the pinto sat sharply back, throwing mcglory well over the pommel. to those in the grand stand it seemed as if the steer, all horns and eyes, was plucked out of their faces. when they looked again, mcglory was tying, and the judges and the other punchers were swarming through the gap in the fence. hands up; and the pinto easing away on the rope! it was all lost, mcglory felt. the fence had been in the way. why couldn't they provide an open field, as in texas? these arizona men couldn't conduct a contest. the timer lifted his hand, and the shouting stopped. "thirty-six seconds," he announced. "what a fool of a timer," thought turk mcglory. "it can't be so." then he saw bud oliver stride up with outstretched hand, and a lump came in his throat. "good boy!" said bud. "you've saved the day for texas." and then the crowd pounced on him and hooted and shouted, "mcglory! mcglory!" until he was dizzy with it all. it was not as he thought it would be. two hundred dollars won! and he, turk mcglory! and then a saucy, flushed face looking up at him. "i knew you would do it, mr. texas," she said. and with that she pinned a blue and white ribbon on his vest, and he looked off over her head, and trembled. "david grayson." surprised as many of our readers will no doubt be to find how wide has been the field of interest covered by mr. baker under his own name, the surprise of most of them will be still keener when they know that the delightful pastoral sketches in prose which have appeared in our magazines from time to time under the name of "david grayson," are all written by this same young son of wisconsin. who would have thought that the author of "adventures in contentment," "adventures in friendship," "the friendly road," and the novel called "hempfield," was the same as the frequently truculent writer of social and political exposures? one likes mr. baker better knowing this fact. one sees that his interests and ideals are wide, tolerant, and kindly. the editors of this book are proud to be among the first to introduce david grayson and ray stannard baker publicly as one and the same man. mr. baker has also written under the pen name of sturgis b. rand. an argument with a millionaire from "adventures in contentment," chapter vii, by david grayson. doubleday, page & co. an argument with a millionaire. "let the mighty and great roll in splendour and state, i envy them not, i declare it. i eat my own lamb, my own chicken and ham, i shear my own sheep and wear it. i have lawns, i have bowers, i have fruits, i have flowers, the lark is my morning charmer; so you jolly dogs now, here's god bless the plow-- long life and content to the farmer." --rhyme on an old pitcher of english pottery. i have been hearing of john starkweather ever since i came here. he is a most important personage in this community. he is rich. horace especially loves to talk about him. give horace half a chance, whether the subject be pigs or churches, and he will break in somewhere with the remark: "as i was saying to mr. starkweather--" or, "mr. starkweather says to me--" how we love to shine by reflected glory! even harriet has not gone by unscathed; she, too, has been affected by the bacillus of admiration. she has wanted to know several times if i saw john starkweather drive by: "the finest span of horses in this country," she says, and "did you see his daughter?" much other information concerning the starkweather household, culinary and otherwise, is current among our hills. we know accurately the number of mr. starkweather's bedrooms, we can tell how much coal he uses in winter and how many tons of ice in summer, and upon such important premises we argue his riches. several times i have passed john starkweather's home. it lies between my farm and the town, though not on the direct road, and it is really beautiful with the groomed and guided beauty possible to wealth. a stately old house with a huge end chimney of red bricks stands with dignity well back from the road; round about lie pleasant lawns that once were cornfields; and there are drives and walks and exotic shrubs. at first, loving my own hills so well, i was puzzled to understand why i should also enjoy starkweather's groomed surroundings. but it came to me that after all, much as we may love wildness, we are not wild, nor our works. what more artificial than a house, or a barn, or a fence? and the greater and more formal the house, the more formal indeed must be the nearer natural environments. perhaps the hand of man might well have been less evident in developing the surroundings of the starkweather home--for art, dealing with nature, is so often too accomplished! but i enjoy the starkweather place and as i look in from the road, i sometimes think to myself with satisfaction: "here is this rich man who has paid his thousands to make the beauty which i pass and take for nothing--and having taken, leave as much behind." and i wonder sometimes whether he, inside his fences, gets more joy of it than i, who walk the roads outside. anyway, i am grateful to him for using his riches so much to my advantage. on fine mornings john starkweather sometimes comes out in his slippers, bare-headed, his white vest gleaming in the sunshine, and walks slowly around his garden. charles baxter says that on these occasions he is asking his gardener the names of the vegetables. however that may be, he has seemed to our community the very incarnation of contentment and prosperity--his position the acme of desirability. what was my astonishment, then, the other morning to see john starkweather coming down the pasture lane through my farm. i knew him afar off, though i had never met him. may i express the inexpressible when i say he had a rich look; he walked rich, there was richness in the confident crook of his elbow, and in the positive twitch of the stick he carried: a man accustomed to having doors opened before he knocked. i stood there a moment and looked up the hill at him, and i felt that profound curiosity which every one of us feels every day of his life to know something of the inner impulses which stir his nearest neighbor. i should have liked to know john starkweather; but i thought to myself as i have thought so many times how surely one comes finally to imitate his surroundings. a farmer grows to be a part of his farm; the sawdust on his coat is not the most distinctive insignia of the carpenter; the poet writes his truest lines upon his own countenance. people passing in my road take me to be a part of this natural scene. i suppose i seem to them as a partridge squatting among dry grasses and leaves, so like the grass and leaves as to be invisible. we all come to be marked upon by nature and dismissed--how carelessly!--as genera or species. and is it not the primal struggle of man to escape classification, to form new differentiations? sometimes--i confess it--when i see one passing in my road, i feel like hailing him and saying: "friend, i am not all farmer. i, too, am a person, i am different and curious. i am full of red blood, i like people, all sorts of people; if you are not interested in me, at least i am intensely interested in you. come over now and let's talk!" so we are all of us calling and calling across the incalculable gulfs which separate us even from our nearest friends! once or twice this feeling has been so real to me that i've been near to the point of hailing utter strangers--only to be instantly overcome with a sense of the humorous absurdity of such an enterprise. so i laugh it off and i say to myself: "steady now: the man is going to town to sell a pig; he is coming back with ten pounds of sugar, five of salt pork, a can of coffee and some new blades for his mowing machine. he hasn't time for talk"--and so i come down with a bump to my digging, or hoeing, or chopping, or whatever it is. here i've left john starkweather in my pasture while i remark to the extent of a page or two that i didn't expect him to see me when he went by. i assumed that he was out for a walk, perhaps to enliven a worn appetite (do you know, confidentially, i've had some pleasure in times past in reflecting upon the jaded appetites of millionaires!), and that he would pass out by my lane to the country road; but, instead of that, what should he do but climb the yard fence and walk over toward the barn where i was at work. perhaps i was not consumed with excitement: here was fresh adventure! "a farmer," i said to myself with exultation, "has only to wait long enough and all the world comes his way." i had just begun to grease my farm wagon and was experiencing some difficulty in lifting and steadying the heavy rear axle while i took off the wheel. i kept busily at work, pretending (such is the perversity of the human mind) that i did not see mr. starkweather. he stood for a moment watching me; then he said: "good morning, sir." i looked up and said: "oh, good morning!" "nice little farm you have here." "it's enough for me," i replied. i did not especially like the "little." one is human. then i had an absurd inspiration: he stood there so trim and jaunty and prosperous. so rich! i had a good look at him. he was dressed in a woolen jacket coat, knee-trousers and leggings; on his head he wore a jaunty, cocky little scotch cap; a man, i should judge, about fifty years old, well-fed and hearty in appearance, with grayish hair and a good-humored eye. i acted on my inspiration: "you've arrived," i said, "at the psychological moment." "how's that?" "take hold here and help me lift this axle and steady it. i'm having a hard time of it." the look of astonishment in his countenance was beautiful to see. for a moment failure stared me in the face. his expression said with emphasis: "perhaps you don't know who i am." but i looked at him with the greatest good feeling and my expression said, or i meant it to say: "to be sure i don't: and what difference does it make, anyway!" "you take hold here," i said, without waiting for him to catch his breath, "and i'll get hold here. together we can easily get the wheel off." without a word he set his cane against the barn and bent his back; up came the axle and i propped it with a board. "now," i said, "you hang on there and steady it while i get the wheel off"--though, indeed, it didn't really need much steadying. as i straightened up, whom should i see but harriet standing stock still in the pathway half way down to the barn, transfixed with horror. she had recognized john starkweather and had heard at least part of what i said to him, and the vision of that important man bending his back to help lift the axle of my old wagon was too terrible! she caught my eye and pointed and mouthed. when i smiled and nodded, john starkweather straightened up and looked around. "don't, on your life," i warned, "let go of that axle." he held on and harriet turned and retreated ingloriously. john starkweather's face was a study! "did you ever grease a wagon?" i asked him genially. "never," he said. "there's more of an art in it than you think," i said, and, as i worked, i talked to him of the lore of axle-grease and showed him exactly how to put it on--neither too much nor too little, and so that it would distribute itself evenly when the wheel was replaced. "there's a right way of doing everything," i observed. "that's so," said john starkweather, "if i could only get workmen that believed it." by that time i could see that he was beginning to be interested. i put back the wheel, gave it a light turn and screwed on the nut. he helped me with the other end of the axle with all good humor. "perhaps," i said, as engagingly as i knew how, "you'd like to try the art yourself? you take the grease this time and i'll steady the wagon." "all right," he said, laughing, "i'm in for anything." he took the grease box and the paddle--less gingerly than i thought he would. "is that right?" he demanded, and so he put on the grease. and oh, it was good to see harriet in the doorway! "steady there," i said, "not so much at the end; now put the box down on the reach." and so together we greased the wagon, talking all the time in the friendliest way. i actually believe that he was having a pretty good time. at least it had the virtue of unexpectedness. he wasn't bored! when he had finished, we both straightened our backs and looked at each other. there was a twinkle in his eye; then we both laughed. "he's all right," i said to myself. i held up my hands, then he held up his; it was hardly necessary to prove that wagon-greasing was not a delicate operation. "it's a good, wholesome sign," i said, "but it'll come off. do you happen to remember a story of tolstoi's called, 'ivan the fool?'" ("what is a farmer doing quoting tolstoi!" remarked his countenance--though he said not a word.) "in the kingdom of ivan, you remember," i said, "it was the rule that whoever had hard places on his hands came to table, but whoever had not must eat what the others left." thus i led him up the back steps and poured him a basin of hot water--which i brought myself from the kitchen, harriet having marvelously and completely disappeared. we both washed our hands, talking with great good humor. when we had finished i said: "sit down, friend, if you've time, and let's talk." so he sat down on one of the logs of my woodpile: a solid sort of man, rather warm after his recent activities. he looked me over with some interest and, i thought, friendliness. "why does a man like you," he asked finally, "waste himself on a little farm back here in the country?" for a single instant i came nearer to being angry than i have been for a long time. _waste_ myself! so we are judged without knowledge. i had a sudden impulse to demolish him (if i could) with the nearest sarcasms i could lay hand to. he was so sure of himself! "oh, well," i thought, with vainglorious superiority, "he doesn't know." so i said: "what would you have me be--a millionaire?" he smiled, but with a sort of sincerity. "you might be," he said; "who can tell!" i laughed outright; the humor of it struck me as delicious. here i had been, ever since i first heard of john starkweather, rather gloating over him as a poor suffering millionaire (of course millionaires _are_ unhappy), and there he sat, ruddy of face and hearty of body, pitying _me_ for a poor unfortunate farmer back here in the country! curious, this human nature of ours, isn't it? but how infinitely beguiling! so i sat down beside mr. starkweather on the log and crossed my legs. i felt as though i had set foot in a new country. "would you really advise me," i asked, "to start in to be a millionaire?" he chuckled: "well, that's one way of putting it. hitch your wagon to a star; but begin by making a few dollars more a year than you spend. when i began--" he stopped short with an amused smile, remembering that i did not know who he was. "of course," i said, "i understand that." "a man must begin small"--he was on pleasant ground--"and anywhere he likes, a few dollars here, a few there. he must work hard, he must save, he must be both bold and cautious. i know a man who began when he was about your age with total assets of ten dollars and a good digestion. he's now considered a fairly wealthy man. he has a home in the city, a place in the country, and he goes to europe when he likes. he has so arranged his affairs that young men do most of the work and he draws the dividends--and all in a little more than twenty years. i made every single cent--but, as i said, it's a penny business to start with. the point is, i like to see young men ambitious." "ambitious," i asked, "for what?" "why, to rise in the world; to get ahead." "i know you'll pardon me," i said, "for appearing to cross-examine you, but i'm tremendously interested in these things. what do you mean by rising? and who am i to get ahead of?" he looked at me in astonishment, and with evident impatience at my consummate stupidity. "i am serious," i said. "i really want to make the best i can of my life. it's the only one i've got." "see here," he said, "let us say you clear up five hundred a year from this farm--" "you exaggerate--" i interrupted. "do i?" he laughed; "that makes my case all the better. now, isn't it possible to rise from that? couldn't you make a thousand or five thousand or even fifty thousand a year?" it seems an unanswerable argument: fifty thousand dollars! "i suppose i might," i said, "but do you think i'd be any better off or happier with fifty thousand a year than i am now? you see, i like all these surroundings better than any other place i ever knew. that old green hill over there with the oak on it is an intimate friend of mine. i have a good corn-field in which every year i work miracles. i've a cow and a horse and a few pigs. i have a comfortable home. my appetite is perfect, and i have plenty of food to gratify it. i sleep every night like a boy, for i haven't a trouble in this world to disturb me. i enjoy the mornings here in the country; and the evenings are pleasant. some of my neighbors have come to be my good friends. i like them and i am pretty sure they like me. inside the house there i have the best books ever written and i have time in the evenings to read them--i mean _really_ read them. now the question is, would i be any better off, or any happier, if i had fifty thousand a year?" john starkweather laughed. "well, sir," he said, "i see i've made the acquaintance of a philosopher." "let us say," i continued, "that you are willing to invest twenty years of your life in a million dollars." ("merely an illustration," said john starkweather.) "you have it where you can put it in the bank and take it out again, or you can give it form in houses, yachts, and other things. now twenty years of my life--to me--is worth more than a million dollars. i simply can't afford to sell it for that. i prefer to invest it, as somebody or other has said, unearned in life. i've always had a liking for intangible properties." "see here," said john starkweather, "you are taking a narrow view of life. you are making your own pleasure the only standard. shouldn't a man make the most of the talents given him? hasn't he a duty to society?" "now you are shifting your ground," i said, "from the question of personal satisfaction to that of duty. that concerns me, too. let me ask you: isn't it important to society that this piece of earth be plowed and cultivated?" "yes, but--" "isn't it honest and useful work?" "of course." "isn't it important that it shall not only be done, but well done?" "certainly." "it takes all there is in a good man," i said, "to be a good farmer." "but the point is," he argued, "might not the same faculties applied to other things yield better and bigger results?" "that is a problem, of course," i said. "i tried money-making once--in a city--and i was unsuccessful and unhappy; here i am both successful and happy. i suppose i was one of the young men who did the work while some millionaire drew the dividends." (i was cutting close, and i didn't venture to look at him.) "no doubt he had his houses and yachts and went to europe when he liked. i know i lived upstairs--back--where there wasn't a tree to be seen, or a spear of green grass, or a hill, or a brook; only smoke and chimneys and littered roofs. lord be thanked for my escape! sometimes i think that success has formed a silent conspiracy against youth. success holds up a single glittering apple and bids youth strip and run for it; and youth runs and success still holds the apple." john starkweather said nothing. "yes," i said, "there are duties. we realize, we farmers, that we must produce more than we ourselves can eat or wear or burn. we realize that we are the foundation; we connect human life with the earth. we dig and plant and produce, and, having eaten at the first table ourselves, we pass what is left to the bakers and millionaires. did you ever think, stranger, that most of the wars of the world have been fought for the control of this farmer's second table? have you thought that the surplus of wheat and corn and cotton is what the railroads are struggling to carry? upon our surplus run all the factories and mills; a little of it gathered in cash makes a millionaire. but we farmers, we sit back comfortably after dinner, and joke with our wives and play with our babies, and let the rest of you fight for the crumbs that fall from our abundant tables. if once we really cared and got up and shook ourselves, and said to the maid: 'here, child, don't waste the crusts; gather 'em up and tomorrow we'll have a cottage pudding,' where in the world would all the millionaires be?" oh, i tell you, i waxed eloquent. i couldn't let john starkweather, or any other man, get away with the conviction that a millionaire is better than a farmer. "moreover," i said, "think of the position of the millionaire. he spends his time playing not with life, but with the symbols of life, whether cash or houses. any day the symbols may change; a little war may happen along, there may be a defective flue or a western breeze, or even a panic because the farmers aren't scattering as many crumbs as usual (they call it crop failure, but i've noticed that the farmers still continue to have plenty to eat) and then what happens to your millionaire? not knowing how to produce anything himself, he would starve to death if there were not always, somewhere, a farmer to take him up to the table." "you're making a strong case," laughed john starkweather. "strong!" i said. "it is simply wonderful what a leverage upon society a few acres of land, a cow, a pig or two, and a span of horses gives a man. i'm ridiculously independent. i'd be the hardest sort of a man to dislodge or crush. i tell you, my friend, a farmer is like an oak, his roots strike deep in the soil, he draws a sufficiency of food from the earth itself, he breathes the free air around him, his thirst is quenched by heaven itself--and there's no tax on sunshine." i paused for very lack of breath. john starkweather was laughing. "when you commiserate me, therefore" ("i'm sure i shall never do it again," said john starkweather), "when you commiserate me, therefore, and advise me to rise, you must give me really good reasons for changing my occupation and becoming a millionaire. you must prove to me that i can be more independent, more honest, more useful as a millionaire, and that i shall have better and truer friends!" john starkweather looked around at me (i knew i had been absurdly eager and i was rather ashamed of myself) and put his hand on my knee (he has a wonderfully fine eye!). "i don't believe," he said, "you'd have any truer friends." "anyway," i said repentantly, "i'll admit that millionaires have their place--at present i wouldn't do entirely away with them, though i do think they'd enjoy farming better. and if i were to select a millionaire for all the best things i know, i should certainly choose you, mr. starkweather." he jumped up. "you know who i am?" he asked. i nodded. "and you knew all the time?" i nodded. "well, you're a good one!" we both laughed and fell to talking with the greatest friendliness. i led him down my garden to show him my prize pie-plant, of which i am enormously proud, and i pulled for him some of the finest stalks i could find. "take it home," i said, "it makes the best pies of any pie-plant in this country." he took it under his arm. "i want you to come over and see me the first chance you get," he said. "i'm going to prove to you by physical demonstration that it's better sport to be a millionaire than a farmer--not that i am a millionaire; i'm only accepting the reputation you give me." so i walked with him down to the lane. "let me know when you grease up again," he said, "and i'll come over." so we shook hands; and he set off sturdily down the road with the pie-plant leaves waving cheerfully over his shoulder. zona gale. among the various types of literature, the short story has become very popular in recent years. numerous writers are fond of the principles involved in its construction, and are developing this form beyond many others. the short story is not new, for it has been developed in many lands throughout the past centuries. however, there has been a marked revival in its production recently and wisconsin writers have been interested in developing this type. among these we have already noticed hamlin garland. there will be several others mentioned in these selections, among whom the subject of this sketch is one of the most notable. zona gale, who has made her imaginative "friendship village" one of the real places in wisconsin life, was born at portage, wisconsin, august , . this city continues to be her home; and the study of its home life, its school life, its social, industrial, and religious life has afforded her the basis for generalizing upon what is true of the life of our time. her characters are not necessarily portage people, for they are wisconsin people and people of other states as well. however, portage and its life has furnished her many interesting starting points for her comments upon life in general. she has attempted to repay her community for this material furnished her by becoming an integral part of its community life. in its civic improvements, in its home life, in its schools and in its churches, she has had her work and has aspired to do her best towards making her home city beautiful and wholesome. zona gale remembers much of the play life and the school life in her home town during the eighties and early nineties of the last century. she has recently set forth her idealized remembrance of these early experiences in her book entitled "when i was a little girl." one of these is chosen as an illustration of her work. besides the school training afforded her by portage, zona gale attended wayland academy at beaver dam, wisconsin, and later she entered the university of wisconsin, from which institution she received the bachelor of literature degree in , and four years later the master's degree. after graduation miss gale was employed for a time on staffs of milwaukee and new york papers. since she has devoted herself to writing for magazines. she spends some time in new york and the east, but most of her work is done at her beautiful home, which overlooks the wisconsin river at portage. miss gale writes an occasional poem for some magazine. we give "the holy place," published in the bookman some years ago, as an illustration of her poetry. however, it is not as a poet, but rather as a short story writer that we are remembering zona gale. miss gale's stories have appeared in the atlantic, appleton's, the cosmopolitan, everybody's, the outlook, the bookman, and other magazines. her first arrangement of stories in book form, "romance island," appeared in . a year later she published "the loves of pelleas and etarre." the two characters mentioned are an old couple of seventy or more, who, under the protecting care of an old servant, nichola, live a sort of child life. their pranks, if such they may be called, are the kindly deeds of making others happy. the stories purport to be told by etarre, who would have us believe that there is quite as much romance in the lives of two old people busily engaged in breaking the rules of the crabbed old nurse as there is in the lives of much younger people. they are constantly on the alert for the romance in the lives of those about them, and it would seem that no love match in their neighborhood could be a success without their assistance. the spirit that pervades the book is that of thoughtful helpfulness. we are sure to lay aside these stories with the wish that the kindly spirit and the rich enjoyment of pelleas and etarre might be true for all old people. we wish every aged couple might stand at the window at christmas time and send such telegrams of bequest as these which they send to the world: "and from my spirit to yours i bequeath the hard-won knowledge that you must be true from the beginning. but if by any chance you have not been so, then you must be true from the moment you know." to this sentiment of pelleas shall etarre reply: "from my spirit to your spirit, i bequeath some understanding of the preciousness of love, and the need to keep it true." stories must happen somewhere, and the capital of zona gale's character world is "friendship village." here occur the loves of her youthful romances, the gossips of the older worldly wise. here her clubs originate and accomplish their tasks. in this village occur the struggles for social and industrial reform in which zona gale is so much interested, and here, too, takes place all that great conflict for civic righteousness which brings "friendship village" slowly nearer the goal of perfection as she understands it. "friendship village" is probably located nowhere, but still miss gale has been so successful in writing about it that we are most sure it is our town, and some one has suggested that another good name for this place would be "our home town." two of miss gale's books derive their titles from this village of hers. they are "friendship village" and "friendship village love stories." a short description of her "friendship village" will follow later. another book based upon the village life deals with the lesson of christmas time. it shows how the older people who have come to feel that they could not afford the expense of christmas are brought to realize the real significance of christmas giving. another series of stories is linked into book form through the narrator, calliope marsh. it is entitled "mothers to men," and is an account of life at "friendship village." miss gale writes beautiful stories of how to make the better community; but what is more, she does with her own hands many things which bring about the realization of her plans. women's club of her own city and of many other cities enjoy her aid in their plans for better conditions. civic federations of statewide influence have her help as member and officer. further, her own county fair has enjoyed her presence and her efforts to advance civic improvement through her friendly counsel to those who pause to talk with her. her writing is here illustrated in part from her recent book, "when i was a little girl." two of the little girls of the neighborhood had been shut up in their rooms one fine summer day as punishment for the infraction of some home regulation, whereupon a discussion among the free playmates arose as to the reason for punishment. as the discussion waxed perplexing, the little girls happened upon grandmother beers, who took up the discussion and enlightened the children. what she had heard of their conversation caused her to break in with the statement, "wicked? i didn't know you knew such a word." the following discussion then takes place: [illustration: zona gale] why? from "when i was a little girl." copyright, , by the macmillan co. "it's a word you learn at sunday school," i explained importantly. "come over here and tell me about it," she invited, and led the way to the eating apple tree. and she sat down in the swing! of course, whatever difference of condition exists between your grandmother and yourself vanishes when she sits down casually in your swing. well, grandmother beers was one who knew how to play with us, and i was always half expecting her to propose a new game. but that day, as she sat in the swing, her eyes were not twinkling at the corners. "what does it mean?" she asked us. "what does wicked mean?" "it's what you aren't to be." i took the brunt of the reply, because i was the relative of the questioner. "why not?" asked grandmother. "why not?" oh, we all knew that. we responded instantly, and out came the results of the training of all the families. "because your mother and your father say you can't," said betty rodman. "because it makes your mother feel bad," said calista. "because god don't want us to," said i. "delie says," betty added, "it's because, if you are, when you grow up people won't think anything of you." grandmother beers held her sweet-peas to her face. "if," she said, after a moment, "you wanted to do something wicked more than you ever wanted to do anything in the world--as much as you'd want a drink tomorrow if you hadn't had one to-day--and if nobody ever knew--would any of those reasons keep you from doing it?" we consulted one another's look, and shifted. we knew how thirsty that would be. already we were thirsty, in thinking about it. "if i were in your place," grandmother said, "i'm not sure those reasons would keep me. i rather think they wouldn't--always." we stared at her. it was true that they didn't always keep us. were not two of us "in our rooms" even now? grandmother leaned forward--i know how the shadows of the apple leaves fell on her black lace cap and how the pink sweet-peas were reflected in her delicate face. "suppose," she said, "that instead of any of those reasons somebody gave you this reason: that the earth is a great flower--a flower that has never really blossomed yet. and that, when it blossoms, life is going to be more beautiful than we have ever dreamed, or than fairy stories have ever pretended. and suppose our doing one way, and not another, makes the flower come a little nearer to blossom. but our doing the other way puts back the time when it can blossom. then which would you want to do?" "oh, make it grow, make it grow," we all cried; and i felt a secret relief: grandmother was playing a game with us, after all. "and suppose that everything made a difference to it," she went on, "every little thing--from telling a lie, on down to going to get a drink for somebody and drinking first yourself out in the kitchen. suppose that everything made a difference, from hurting somebody on purpose, down to making up the bed and pulling the bedspread tight so that the wrinkles in the blanket won't show." at this we looked at one another in some consternation. how did grandmother know? "until after awhile," she said, "you should find out that everything--loving, going to school, playing, working, bathing, sleeping, were all just to make this flower grow. wouldn't it be fun to help?" "yes. oh, yes." we were all agreed about that. it would be great fun to help. "well, then suppose," said grandmother, "that as you helped, you found out something else: that in each of you, say, where your heart is, or where your breath is, there was a flower trying to blossom through! and that only as you help the earth flower to blossom could your flower blossom. and that your doing one way would make your flower droop its head and grow dark and shrivel up. but your doing the other way would make it grow, and turn beautiful colors--so that, bye and bye, every one of your bodies would be just a sheath for this flower. which way then would you rather do?" "oh, make it grow, make it grow," we said again. and mary elizabeth added longingly: "wouldn't it be fun if it was true?" "it is true," said grandmother beers. she sat there, softly smiling over her pink sweet-peas. we looked at her silently. then i remembered that her face had always seemed to me to be somehow light within. may be it was her flower showing through! "grandmother!" i cried, "is it true--is it true?" "it is true," she repeated. "and whether the earth flower and other people's flowers and your flower are to bloom or not is what living is about. and everything makes a difference. isn't that a good reason for not being wicked?" we all looked up in her face, something in us leaping and answering to what she said. and i know that we understood. "oh," mary elizabeth whispered presently to betty, "hurry home and tell margaret amelia. it'll make it so much easier when she comes out to her supper." that night, on the porch, alone with mother and father, i inquired into something that still was not clear. "but how can you tell which things are wicked? and which ones are wrong and which things are right?" father put out his hand and touched my hand. he was looking at me with a look that i knew--and his smile for me is like no other smile that i have ever known. "something will tell you," he said, "always." "always?" i doubted. "always," he said. "there will be other voices. but if you listen, something will tell you always. and it is all you need." i looked at mother. and by her nod and her quiet look i perceived that all this had been known about for a long time. "that is why grandma bard is coming to live with us," she said, "not just because we wanted her, but because--that said so." in us all a flower--and something saying something! and the earth flower trying to blossom ... i looked down the street: at mr. branchett walking in his garden, at the light shining from windows, at the folk sauntering on the sidewalk, and toward town where the band was playing. we all knew about this together then. this was why everything was! and there were years and years to make it come through. what if i, alone among them all, had never found out. the holy place at silver of gray lines; at look of lace about a woman's throat; at little feet, curled close in hand that clings; at stir of sweet old gardens; at the flow and dip and grace of sweeping fabric; at the phantom race of shadow ripples in the tides of wheat, where great, still spirits murmur as they meet-- souls see their god as in a holy place. what of the wrinkled face, the poor, coarse hands, dead leaves and ruined walls in fields that stand, rattling sharp husks? of little feet that stray from clinging hands, and never find the way? he knows no holy place for whom the clod stands not an altar to the living god. friendship village published by permission of the macmillan co., new york. we are one long street, rambling from sun to sun, inheriting traits of the parent country road which we unite. and we are cross streets, members of the same family, properly imitative, proving our ancestorship in a primeval genius for trees, or bursting out in inexplicable weaknesses of court-house, engine-house, town hall, and telephone office. ultimately our stock dwindled out in a slaughter-house and a few detached houses of milk men. the cemetery is delicately put behind them, under a hill. there is nothing mediaeval in all this, one would say. but then see how we wear our rue: when one of us telephones, she will scrupulously ask for the number, for it says so at the top of every page. "give me - ," she will put it, with an impersonality as fine as if she were calling for four figures. and central will answer: "well, i just saw mis' holcomb go 'crost the street. i'll call you, if you want, when she comes back." or, "i don't think you better ring the helman's just now. they were awake 'most all night with one o' mis' helman's attacks." or, "doctor june's invited to mis' syke's for tea. shall i give him to you there?" the telephone is modern enough. but in our use of it, is there not a flavor as of an elder time, to be caught by them of many years from now? and already we may catch this flavor, as our britain great-great-lady grandmothers, and more, may have been conscious of the old fashion of sitting in bowers. if only they were conscious like that! to be sure of it would be to touch their hands in the margin of the ballad books. or we telephone to the livery barn and boarding stable for the little blacks, celebrated for their self-control in encounters with the proudfits' motor car. the stable-boy answers that the little blacks are at "the funeral." and after he has gone off to ask his employer, who in his unofficial moments is our neighbor, our church choir bass, our landlord even, comes and tells us that, after all, we may have the little blacks, and he himself brings them round at once--the same little blacks that we meant all along. and when, quite naturally, we wonder at the boy's version, we learn: "oh, why, the blacks was standin' just acrost the street, waitin' at the church door, hitched to the hearse. i took 'em out an' put in the bays. i says to myself: 'the corpse won't care.'" some way the proudfits' car and the stable telephone must themselves have slipped from modernity to old fashioned before that incident shall quite come into its own. so it is with certain of our domestic ways. for example, mis' postmaster sykes--in friendship village every woman assumes for given name the employment of her husband--has some fine modern china and much solid silver in extremely good taste, so much, indeed, that she is wont to confess to having cleaned forty, or sixty, or seventy-five pieces--"seventy-five pieces of solid silver have i cleaned this morning. you can say what you want to, nice things are a rill care." yet, surely this is the proper conjunction, mis' sykes is currently reported to rise in the night preceding the day of her house cleaning, and to take her carpets out in the back yard, and there softly to sweep and sweep them so that, at their official cleaning next day, the neighbors may witness how little dirt is whipped out on the line. ought she not to have old-fashioned silver and egg-shell china and drop-leaf mahogany to fit the practice instead of dazzling and wild-rose patterns in "solid and art curtains, and mission chairs and a white-enameled refrigerator, and a gas range?" we have the latest funeral equipment--black broadcloth-covered supports, a coffin carriage for up-and-down the aisles, natural palms to order, and the pulleys to "let them down slow"; and yet our individual funeral capacity has been such that we can tell what every woman who has died in friendship for years has "done without": mis' grocer stew, her of all folks, has done without new-style flat-irons; mis' worth had used the bread pan to wash dishes in; mis' jeweler sprague--the first mis' sprague--had had only six bread and butter knives, her, that could get wholesale, too ... and we have little maid-servants who answer our bells in caps and trays, so to say; but this savour of jestership is authentic, for any one of them is likely to do as of late did mis' holcomb--that was mame bliss's maid--answer at dinner-with-guests, that there were no more mashed potatoes, "or else, there won't be any left to warm up for your breakfast."... and though we have our daily newspaper, receiving associated press service, yet, as mis' amandy toplady observed, it is "only very lately that they have mentioned in the daily the birth of a child, or any thing that had anything of a tang to it." we put new wine in old bottles, but also we use new bottles to hold our old wine. for, consider the name of our main street: is this main or clark or cook or grand street, according to the register of the main streets of town? instead, for its half-mile of village life, the plank road, macadamized and arc-lighted, is called daphne street. daphne street! i love to wonder why. did our dear doctor june's father name it when he set the five hundred elms and oaks which glorify us? or did daphne herself take this way on the day of her flight, so that when they came to draught the town, they recognized that it was daphne street, and so were spared the trouble of naming it? or did the future anonymously toss us back the suggestion, thinking of some day of her own when she might remember us and say, "daphne street!" already some of us smile with a secret nod at something when we direct a stranger, "you will find the telegraph and cable office two blocks down, on daphne street." "the commercial travelers' house, the abigail arnold home bakery, the post office and armory are in the same block on daphne street." or, "the electric light office is at the corner of dunn and daphne." it is not wonderful that daphne herself, at seeing these things, did not stay, but lifted her laurels somewhat nearer tempe--although there are those of us who like to fancy that she is here all the time in our daphne-street magic: the fire bell, the tulip beds, and the twilight bonfires. for how else, in all reason, has the name persisted? of late a new doctor has appeared--one may say, has abounded: a surgeon who, such is his zeal, will almost perform an operation over the telephone and, we have come somewhat cynically to believe, would prefer doing so to not operating at all. * * * * * thus the new shoulders the old, and our transition is still swift enough to be a spectacle, as was its earlier phase which gave our middle west to cabins and plough horses, with a tendency away from wigwams and bob-whites. and in this local warfare between old and new a chief figure is calliope marsh. she is a little rosy, wrinkled creature officially--though no other than officially--pertaining to sixty years; mender of lace, seller of extracts, and music teacher, but of the three she thinks of the last as her true vocation. * * * * * with us all the friendship idea prevails: we accept what progress sends, but we regard it in our own fashion. our improvements, like our entertainments, our funerals, our holidays, and our very loves, are but friendship-village exponents of the modern spirit. perhaps, in a tenderer significance than she meant, calliope characterized us when she said: "this town is more like a back door than a front--or, givin' it full credit, anyhow--it's no more'n a side door, with no vines." eben eugene rexford. the subject of this sketch has lived in wisconsin since the seventh year of his life. he was born at johnsburgh, new york, on september , . with his parents he removed to wisconsin, where he came to love the products of the soil and the processes by which they might be made more and more beautiful. not merely plant growth has been of interest to him; the development of wisconsin institutions also, especially its schools, has been of the most vital concern to him. few men have been more deeply interested in the schools of any community than has mr. rexford in the schools of his village, and few have more effectively encouraged the teaching of agricultural facts in the schools than he. mr. rexford's life has been spent quite largely at his country home near shiocton, where he has found much of the material for the line of writing in which he has been especially interested. the country home has furnished him with opportunities for pleasurable development of which few have even dreamed. his career is worth studying, if for no other reason than to disprove the thought that rural life is a life of toil and hardship devoid of the privilege of acquiring that finer sense for the beautiful. mr. rexford's life has been rich in the companionship of people and of animals and plants. this last has given that training which makes him an authority along the line of floriculture. mr. rexford received his training beyond the rural schools at lawrence college, appleton, where he pursued the college course until his senior year. when he had gone thus far in his course, the care of his home demanded his attention; and, characteristic of the man, he sacrificed his own personal interests for the greater good he might do. the city of appleton and its institutions, especially its college and its churches, still possess strong bonds of interest for him. the college, in turn, is justly proud of his attainments and conferred upon him the degree of doctor of literature in . after his school career, mr. rexford took up his work at his country home near shiocton, where he has been actively associated with all phases of the development of community life. good roads found a strong advocate in him; the introduction and development of farm machinery and farm improvements have found him a leader. for school programs and for church exercises he has contributed much in providing music, or in directing the musical part of the program. early in life mr. rexford conceived the notion of sharing his best thoughts with his fellows through expressing them for publication, and it is said that he has been a contributor to the press since the age of fourteen. he has written extensively for a large number of magazines. the ladies' home journal and outing have published more of his articles, perhaps, than any other magazines. these magazine contributions comprise poems and articles upon gardening, flower culture, and the making of the country home. while the articles show extensive scientific knowledge, they are so written as to be easily comprehended by the ordinary reader. the various articles have been collected into book form and the following discussions upon the garden and its plants were listed in the catalogs: flowers, how to grow them; four seasons in the garden; home floriculture; home garden; indoor gardening. these discussions are made up largely of mr. rexford's own experience in doing the things he writes about. from among the flowers in his living room or the plants in his garden you can easily imagine him in his quiet, neighborly way telling you the things that will aid you in successfully raising flowers or vegetables. we are closely drawn to him, for there is no show about what he does, but that simple kindliness of one who desires to help. while extracts from books of the type above listed would not generally form good selections for reading, yet so different is the style of composition of mr. rexford that we feel that a few illustrations here will be of great interest as showing the qualities above mentioned. the first two selections are taken from his "home floriculture," a book published by the orange judd company, and will illustrate mr. rexford's intense interest in his plants as well as his simple style in telling us the things of help to us. [illustration: eben e. rexford] watering plants printed by permission of orange, judd co. some persons water their plants every day, without regard to the season, and give about the same quantity one day that they do another. the natural result is that in winter their plants are weak and spindling, with yellow leaves, and few, if any, flowers. the owner will tell you that she "don't see what ails her plants." she is sure she gives them all the water they need, and she "never forgets to do this." if she were to forget to do this occasionally it would be a great deal better for the plants. in summer the evaporation of moisture from the soil is rapid, because of warmth and wind, but in winter this goes on slowly, and the amount of water given should be regulated by the ability of the soil to dispose of it. where too much is given, as has been said in the chapter on planting, the soil is reduced to a condition of muddiness, unless good drainage has been provided, and those who give too much water generally neglect this item. another woman will give water in little driblets, "whenever she happens to think of it." the result is that her plants are chronic sufferers from the lack of moisture at the roots. the wonder is that they contrive to exist. turn them out of their pots and you will generally find that the upper portion of the soil is moist, and in this what few roots there are have spread themselves, while below it, the soil is almost as dry as dust, and no root could live there. plants grown under these conditions are almost always dwarf and sickly specimens, with but few leaves and most of these yellow ones. you will find that plants grown under either condition are much more subject to attacks of insects than healthy plants are. there is only one rule to be governed in watering plants that i have a knowledge of and that is this: never apply water to any plant until the surface of the soil looks dry. when you do give water, give enough of it to thoroughly saturate the soil. if some runs through at the bottom of the pot, you can be sure that the whole ball of earth is moist. i follow this rule with good results. of course, like all other rules, it has exceptions. for instance, a calla, being a sort of aquatic plant, requires very much more water than a geranium. a cactus, being a native of hot, dry climates, requires but very little. the florist who is interested in his plants will study their habits, in order to understand the requirements of each, and will soon be able to treat them intelligently. he will soon be able to tell at a glance when a plant requires more water. he will know what kinds to give a good deal to, and what kinds to water sparingly. until he has acquired this ability it is well for him to adhere to the rule given above, for if he follows it, he cannot go very far wrong in either direction. let the water used be of about the same temperature as that of the room in which the plants are. i am often asked which is best, hard or soft water. i have tried both and see little difference. many persons fail to attain success with plants in baskets and window boxes. ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the failure is due to lack of water. a basket is exposed to dry air on all sides, and is suspended near the ceiling, as a general thing, where the air is much warmer than below; consequently the evaporation takes place more rapidly than from the pot on the window sill. because it is somewhat difficult to get at, water is not given as often as required, and then generally in smaller quantities than is needed. the first thing you know, your plants are turning yellow, and dropping their leaves, and soon they are in such a condition that you throw them away in disgust, and conclude that you haven't "the knack" of growing good basket plants. all the trouble comes from an insufficient water supply. there are two methods by which you may make it easier to attend to the needs of the plants. one is, to have the baskets suspended by long cords running over pulleys, by which you can lower them into a tub of water, where they can be left until they are thoroughly soaked through. the other is this: take a tin can and punch a hole through the bottom of it. let this hole be large enough to allow the water to escape, drop by drop. set this on top of your basket and arrange the foliage to cover it. if the hole is not so large as it ought to be, the soil will not be kept moist all through. in this case, make it larger. a little observation will enable you to regulate matters in such a manner as to secure just the flow of water needed. by the "tin-can method" of watering basket plants, the trouble of watering in the ordinary way will be done away with, and the results will be extremely satisfactory. plants can be grown nearly as well in the window box as in the open ground if enough water is given to keep the soil moist, all through, at all times. the "little-and-often" plan, spoken of in this chapter, will lead to dismal failure in the care of window boxes. apply at least a pailful of water every day, in warm weather. if this is done, there need be no failure. if those who have failed heretofore will bear this in mind, and follow the advice given, they may have window boxes that will make their windows beautiful during the entire summer, with very little trouble. tea roses for beds no part of my garden affords me more pleasure than my bed of tea roses. i cut dozens of flowers from it nearly every day from june to the coming of cold weather, for buttonhole and corsage bouquets, and for use on the table, and in the parlor. one fine rose and a bit of foliage is a bouquet in itself. if i could have but one bed of flowers, it should be a bed of tea roses--and yet, i should want a bed of pansies to supplement the roses; therefore, a bed of each would be a necessity. if you want to give a friend a buttonhole nosegay that shall be "just as pretty as it can be," you must have a bed of these roses to draw from. a half-blown flower of meteor, with its velvety, crimson petals, and a bud of perle des jardins, just showing its golden heart, with a leaf or two of green to set off the flowers--what a lovely harmony of rich color! or, if your taste inclines you to more delicate colors, take a bud of luciole, and a catherine mermet when its petals are just falling apart. nothing can be lovelier, you think, till you have put half open perle des jardins with a dark purple or azure-blue pansy. when you have done that, you are charmed with the manner in which the two colors harmonize and intensify each other, and you are sure there was never anything finer for a flower-lover to feast his eyes on. put a tawny safrano or sunset bud with a purple pansy and see what a royal combination of colors you have in the simple arrangement. be sure to have a bed of tea roses, and make combinations to suit yourself. in order to make a success of your bed of tea roses--though perhaps i ought to say ever-bloomers, for probably your selection will include other varieties than the tea--you must have a rich soil for them to grow in. when a branch has borne flowers, it must be cut back to some strong bud. this bud will, if your soil is rich enough to encourage vigorous growth, soon become a branch, and produce flowers. it is by constant cutting back that you secure new growth, if the soil is in a condition to help it along, and only by securing this steady production and development of new branches can you expect many flowers. all depends on that. if proper treatment is given, you need not be without flowers, unless you cut them all, from june to october. if i were to name all the desirable varieties, i might fill several pages with the list. look over the catalogs of the florists and you will see that the variety is almost endless. if you do not care to invest money enough to secure the newer varieties, tell the dealer to whom you give your patronage what you want the plants for, and he will make a selection which will include some of the best kinds, and which will be sure to give you as good satisfaction as you would get from a selection of your own. better, in most instances, for you make your selection from the description in the catalog, while he would select from his knowledge of the merits of the flower. by all means have a bed of these most sweet and lovely roses. if the season happens to be a hot and dry one, mulch your rose bed with grass clippings from the lawn. spread them evenly about the plants, to a depth of two or three inches, in such a manner as to cover the entire bed. by so doing, you prevent rapid evaporation and the roots of the plant are kept much cooler than when strong sunshine is allowed to beat down upon the surface of the bed. when the mulch begins to decay, remove it, and apply fresh clippings. about the middle of the season give the soil a liberal dressing of fine bone meal, working it well about the roots of the plants; or, if you can get it, use old cow manure. whatever you apply, be sure it gets where the roots can make use of it. while the above illustrations show mr. rexford's interests in the affairs of home life and demonstrate his simple, direct way of saying what he wishes us to know, yet they do not manifest that finer literary sense of which he is possessed. they are scientific thought, clearly and directly expressed, but he has that sentiment of the heart and that keen appreciation of the relation of sound to sense which marks him as the poet and song writer. his first book publication of a poetic nature is a long narrative poem entitled "brother and lover." it is a story of civil war times and is rich in the sentiment of friendship which, to his mind, endures not merely through this life, but abides throughout all time. the plot of this story is very simple, involving but three characters, a young woman, her brother, and her lover. mr. rexford's last collection of poems appeared in under the title "pansies and rosemary." he explained this title in the following quotation: "pansies--for thoughts, and rosemary--that's for remembrance." many of the thoughts in these poems seem to be such as come to us at eventide, for they reflect many sentiments concerning death. it would seem that mr. rexford has cherished those occasions which bring a community in humility and close sympathy, to point the significance of the great lesson of hope, in the most beautiful language that he commands. in a few of these poems, dialect has been chosen as the form of expression. one of this type has been selected for this reading. it illustrates the fact that in these simple acts of community effort to do the constructive, there always comes more joy than can come from the polished product of practised art. naturally we expect one who loved the beauty of the landscape and the color of petal and the fragrance of flower to be more or less of a nature poet. to him nature is the great teacher of god's handiwork, and imparts to us solace and joy. mr. rexford has also chosen to disregard the life of the city for the life of the country village, where every individual to the youngest school child may know him and reverence him for his kindly helpfulness. he loves the humble worker in the common walks of life. "the two singers" given later will illustrate his theory of usefulness. he does not conceal the presence of evil, nor does he condone it, but he does show the great strength which may be attained through resistance of it. the unfruitful tree illustrates this point. mr. rexford has always been a great lover of music. he has led the village choir and he has played the organ at the church service for many years. he has written not merely the words that he sings, but he has also set many of his little lyrics to music. when the village school has needed a song for a special program, when the church service has been in special need, or when the memorial day program could be rendered more sacredly helpful by his music, mr. rexford has always been ready to assist. he has kindly consented to our publishing his famous song, "silver threads among the gold," and its sequel, "when silver threads are gold again." the old village choir all of these poems are reprinted with consent of the author and the j. b. lippincott publishing co. i have be'n in city churches where the way-up singers sing, till their thousand'-dollar voices make the very rafters ring. seems as if the sound kep' clim'in' till it got lost in the spire, but i all the time was wishin' 'twas our dear ol' village choir. somehow, highfallutin' singin' never seemed to touch the spot like the ol' religious singin' o' the times i hain't forgot; jest the ol' hymns over'n over--nothin' city folks desire, but some heart was in the singin' of that same ol' village choir. nothin' airy 'bout the singers--land; they never tho't o' style, but they made you think o' heaven an' of good things all the while, made you feel as ef the angels couldn't help a comin' nigher jest to lis'en to the music made by that ol' village choir. when they sung ol' coronation, w'y--it somehow seemed to grip an' to take your heart up with it on a sort o' 'scursion trip to the place where god stays! of'en heart an' soul seemed all afire with the glory that they sung of in the dear ol' village choir. then they'd have us all a-cryin' when they sung, at funril-time, soft, an' low, an' sweet, an' sollum hymns that told about the clime where there's never death or partin', an' the mourners never'd tire lis'nen' to the words o' comfort sung by the ol' village choir. you c'n have your city singin' if you think it fills the bill;-- give me the ol'-fashioned music of the ol' church on the hill. music with no style about it--nothin' fine folks would admire, but it makes me homesick, thinkin' o' the dear ol' village choir. the two singers i know two of this earth's singers; one longed to climb and stand upon the heights o'er looking the peaceful lower land, "there where great souls have gathered, the few great souls of earth, i'll sing my songs," he told us, "and they will own their worth. "but if i sang them only to those who love the plain they would not understand them, and i would sing in vain. oh, better far to sing them to earth's great souls, though few, than to sing them to the many who ne'er one great thought knew." so he climbed the heights, and on them sang, and those who heard-- earth's few great souls, ah, never they gave one longed-for word, for the mighty thoughts within them filled each one's soul and brain, and few among them listened to the music of his strain. but the other singer sang to the toilers in the vale, the patient, plodding many, who strive, and win, and fail. his songs of faith and gladness, of hope and trust and cheer, were sweet with strength and comfort, and men were glad to hear. little this valley singer knew of the good he wrought; he dreamed not of the courage that from his songs was caught-- of the hearts that were made lighter, the hands that stronger grew, as they listened to his singing to the many, not to few. he who sang upon the mountains was forgotten long ago-- not one song of his remembered as the swift years come and go. but the dwellers in the valley sing the other's sweet songs o'er, and as his grave grows greener they love them more and more. the unfruitful tree there stood in a beautiful garden a tall and stately tree. crowned with its shining leafage it was wondrous fair to see. but alas! it was always fruitless; never a blossom grew to brighten its spreading branches the whole long season through. the lord of the garden saw it, and he said, when the leaves were sere, "cut down this tree so worthless, and plant another here. my garden is not for beauty alone, but for fruit, as well, and no barren tree must cumber the place in which i dwell." the gardener heard in sorrow, for he loved the barren tree as we love some things about us that are only fair to see. "leave it one season longer, only one more, i pray," he plead, but the lord of the garden was firm, and answered, "nay." then the gardener dug about it, and cut its roots apart, and the fear of the fate before it struck home to the poor tree's heart. faithful and true to his master, yet loving the tree as well, the gardener toiled in sorrow till the stormy evening fell. "tomorrow," he said, "i will finish the task that i have begun." but the morrow was wild with tempest, and the work remained undone. and through all the long, bleak winter there stood the desolate tree, with the cold white snow about it,-- a sorrowful thing to see. at last, the sweet spring weather made glad the hearts of men, and the trees in the lord's fair garden put forth their leaves again. "i will finish my task tomorrow," the busy gardener said, and thought, with a thrill of sorrow, that the beautiful tree was dead. the lord came into his garden at an early hour next day, and to the task unfinished the gardener led the way. and lo! all white with blossoms, fairer than ever to see, in the promise of coming fruitage stood the sorely-chastened tree. "it is well," said the lord of the garden. and he and the gardener knew that out of its loss and trial its promise of fruitfulness grew. it is so with some lives that cumber for a time the lord's domain. out of trial and bitter sorrow there cometh countless gain, and fruit for the master's harvest is borne of loss and pain. a day in june i could write such a beautiful poem about this summer day if my pen could catch the beauty of every leaf and spray, and the music all about me of brooks, and winds, and birds, but the greatest poet living cannot put them into words. if i might, you would hear all through it the whispering of the breeze, like a fine and far-off echo of the ocean's harmonies. you would hear the song of the robin a-swing in the appletree, and the voice of the river going on its search for the great gray sea. you would breathe the fragrance of clover in the words of every line, and incense out of the censors of hillside larch and pine. you would see through the words the roses and deep in their hearts of gold the sweets of a thousand summers, but words are so weak, so cold! if i only could write the color of the lilacs' tossing plume, and make you feel in a sentence the spell of its rare perfume:-- if my pen could catch the glory of the clouds and the sunset sky, and the peace of the summer twilight my poem would never die! silver threads among the gold copyright, , by estate of hamilton s. gordon. i. darling, i am growing old,-- silver threads among the gold, shine upon my brow today;-- life is fading fast away; but, my darling, you will be always young and fair to me, yes! my darling, you will be-- always young and fair to me. ii. when your hair is silver-white,-- and your cheeks no longer bright with the roses of the may,-- i will kiss your lips, and say: oh! my darling, mine alone, you have never older grown, yes, my darling, mine alone,-- you have never older grown. iii. love can never-more grow old, locks may lose their brown and gold; cheeks may fade and hollow grow; but the hearts that love, will know never, winter's frost and chill; summer warmth is in them still, never winter's frost and chill, summer warmth is in them still. iv. love is always young and fair,-- what to us is silver hair, faded cheeks or steps grown slow, to the hearts that beat below? since i kissed you, mine alone, you have never older grown, since i kissed you, mine alone, you have never older grown. chorus to last verse. darling, we are growing old, silver threads among the gold, shine upon my brow today;-- life is fading fast away. when silver threads are gold again words by eben e. rexford; music by h. p. danks. copyright, , by estate of hamilton s. gordon. you tell me we are growing old, and show the silver in your hair, whence time has stolen all the gold, that made your youthful tresses fair; but years can never steal away the love that never can grow old. so what care we for tresses gray,-- since love will always keep its gold. oh, darling, i can read today, the question in your thoughtful eyes; you wonder if i long for may,-- beneath the autumn's frosty skies. oh, love of mine, be sure of this: for me no face could be so fair as this one that i stoop to kiss beneath its crown of silver hair. oh, darling, though your step grows slow, and time has furrowed well your brow, and all june's roses hide in snow, you never were so dear as now. oh, truest, tend'rest heart of all, lean on me when you weary grow, as days, like leaves of autumn, fall about the feet that falter so. oh, darling, with your hand in mine, we'll journey all life's pathway through, with happy tears your dear eyes shine like sweet blue blossoms in the dew. the sorrows of the passing years have made us love each other more, and every day that disappears i count you dearer than before. chorus. oh, love, i tell you with a kiss, if heav'n gives back the youth we miss your face will be no fairer then when silver threads are gold again. carl schurz. carl schurz was born at liblar, prussia, . he was educated in the gymnasium of cologne, and the university of bonne. he entered the revolutionary army in , and was likewise the editor of a revolutionary paper. he was obliged to flee to switzerland, and his accounts of his narrow escapes in getting across the border, as given in his reminiscences, are intensely thrilling. he came to america in , and after three years' residence in philadelphia, he settled in watertown, in our own state. though he was later a resident of michigan, missouri, and new york, and indeed represented the second-named state in the senate of the united states, yet throughout his reminiscences he frequently speaks of wisconsin in a manner that shows he thought of it as his home. his life as an american citizen was full of honor and responsibility. he was made minister to spain by president lincoln, but soon resigned to come back home and serve in the civil war. he was a brigadier-general of volunteers and took part in the battles of chancellorsville, gettysburg, and chattanooga. during all the rest of his life he was active in the service of his country, both in and out of office. he was strongly on the side of reconciliation with the south, and he hoped and worked for a re-united country. his addresses and his letters show his intense faith in civil service reform. his reminiscences indicate how thoroughly american this man became, and how deeply he appreciated, and how jealously he wished to guard, the freedom which he had failed to find in his mother country, and which he had risked so much to obtain here. the first selection here given is from volume i of his reminiscences. it relates the escape from the prison at spandau of his dear friend, professor kinkel, in which schurz played an important part. we see here how closely organized this band of revolutionists was, and the intensity of their love for each other, together with the sense of fun and adventure in all they did. the second selection is characteristic of the oratory of mr. schurz during his later years. it shows an intense patriotism, and emphasizes the fact that though he was not born here, for him but one country had the slightest claim upon his devotion. the reminiscences of carl schurz from vol. i-- - . chapter x, p. . copyright, , by the mcclure co. shortly before midnight i stood, equipped as on the night before, well hidden in the dark recess of the house door opposite the penitentiary. the street corners right and left were, according to agreement, properly watched, but our friends kept themselves, as much as possible, concealed. a few minutes later the night watchman shuffled down the street, and, when immediately in front of me, swung his rattle and called the hour of twelve. then he slouched quietly on and disappeared. what would i have given for a roaring storm and a splashing rain! but the night was perfectly still. my eye was riveted to the roof of the penitentiary building, the dormer windows of which i could scarcely distinguish. the street lights flared dimly. suddenly there appeared a light above, by which i could observe the frame of one of the dormer windows; it moved three times up and down; that was the signal hoped for. with an eager glance i examined the street right and left. nothing stirred. then on my part i gave the signal agreed upon, striking sparks. a second later the light above disappeared and i perceived a dark object slowly moving across the edge of the wall. my heart beat violently and drops of perspiration stood upon my forehead. then the thing i had apprehended actually happened: tiles and brick, loosened by the rubbing rope, rained down upon the pavement with a loud clatter. "now, good heaven, help us!" at the same moment hensel's carriage came rumbling over the cobblestones. the noise of the falling tiles and brick was no longer audible. but would they not strike kinkel's head and benumb him? now the dark object had almost reached the ground. i jumped forward and touched him; it was indeed my friend and there he stood alive and on his feet. "this is a bold deed," were the first words he said to me. "thank god," i answered. "now off with the rope and away." i labored in vain to untie the rope that was wound around his body. "i cannot help you," kinkel whispered, "for the rope has fearfully lacerated both my hands." i pulled out my dirk, and with great effort i succeeded in cutting the rope, the long end of which, as soon as it was free, was quickly pulled up. while i threw a cloak around kinkel's shoulders and helped him get into the rubber shoes, he looked anxiously around. hensel's carriage had turned and was coming slowly back. "what carriage is that?" kinkel asked. "our carriage." dark figures showed themselves at the street corners and approached us. "for heaven's sake, what people are those?" "our friends." at a little distance we heard male voices sing, "here we sit gayly together." "what is that?" asked kinkel, while we hurried through a side street toward kruger's hotel. "your jailers around a bowl of punch." "capital!" said kinkel. we entered the hotel through a back door and soon found ourselves in a room in which kinkel was to put on the clothes that we had bought for him--a black cloth suit, a big bear-skin overcoat, and a cap like those worn by prussian forest officers. from a room near by sounded the voices of the revelers. kruger, who had stood a few minutes looking on while kinkel was exchanging his convict's garb for an honest man's dress, suddenly went out with a peculiarly sly smile. when he returned carrying a few filled glasses, he said, "herr professor, in a room near by some of your jailers are sitting around a bowl of punch. i have just asked them whether they would not permit me to take some for a few friends of mine who have just arrived. they had no objection. now, herr professor, let us drink your health first out of the bowl of your jailers." we found it difficult not to break out in loud laughter. kinkel was now in his citizen's clothes, and his lacerated hands were washed and bandaged with handkerchiefs. he thanked his faithful friends with a few words which brought tears to their eyes. then we jumped into hensel's vehicle. the penitentiary officers were still singing and laughing around their punch bowl. the true americanism by carl schurz. from "modern eloquence." vol. ix, p. . copyright, , by the university society. (address delivered in new york city at a meeting of the chamber of commerce of the state of new york, january , , mr. schurz rising to second the resolutions embodied in a report to the chamber by its committee on foreign commerce and the revenue laws upon the then pending venezuelan question). ... what is the rule of honor to be observed by a power so strongly and so advantageously situated as this republic is? of course i do not expect it meekly to pocket real insults if they should be offered to it. but, surely, it should not, as our boyish jingoes wish it to do, swagger about among the nations of the world, with a chip on its shoulder, shaking its fist in everybody's face. of course, it should not tamely submit to real encroachments upon its rights. but, surely, it should not, whenever its own notions of right or interest collide with the notions of others, fall into hysterics and act as if it really feared for its own security and its very independence. as a true gentleman, conscious of his strength and his dignity, it should be slow to take offense. in its dealings with other nations it should have scrupulous regard, not only for their rights, but also for their self-respect. with all its latent resources for war, it should be the great peace power of the world. it should never forget what a proud privilege and what an inestimable blessing it is not to need and not to have big armies or navies to support. it should seek to influence mankind, not by heavy artillery, but by good example and wise counsel. it should see its highest glory, not in battles won, but in wars prevented. it should be so invariably just and fair, so trustworthy, so good tempered, so conciliatory, that other nations would instinctively turn to it as their mutual friend and the natural adjuster of their differences, thus making it the greatest preserver of the world's peace. this is not a mere idealistic fancy. it is the natural position of this great republic among the nations of the earth. it is its noblest vocation, and it will be a glorious day for the united states when the good sense and the self-respect of the american people see in this their "manifest destiny." it all rests upon peace. is not this peace with honor? there has, of late, been much loose speech about "americanism." is not this good americanism? it is surely today the americanism of those who love their country most. and i fervently hope that it will be and ever remain the americanism of our children and our children's children. mrs. honorÉ willsie. mrs. honoré mccue willsie is a young woman who received her collegiate training in the writing of english at the university of wisconsin, she being a graduate of that institution with the class of . since her graduation she has written many things that have claimed the attention of readers in all parts of our country. she has traveled widely. she writes intimately and understandingly of the indians of our southwest, as well as of society folk of new york. many readers of this volume have, no doubt, read her story, "still jim," recently published in everybody's magazine. aside from the story here published, perhaps the best-known work of mrs. willsie is "we die, we die--there is no hope," a plea for the indians of the southwest. the editors of this book are very proud to be permitted to publish "the forbidden north." it impresses them as being one of the great dog stories of all time. no doubt mrs. willsie got some of her inspiration in writing it from a great dane puppy, cedric, who was her constant companion during her upper classman years at the university of wisconsin. indeed, this pair--the tall, dark-haired girl and the great, dun-colored dog--were a familiar sight to the students of the university and the residents of madison. the reader may be sure that all the love expressed for saxe gotha is genuine. [illustration: honorÉ willsie] the forbidden north--the story of a great dane puppy reprinted, by permission, from the youth's companion. one hot morning, a year or so ago, an uncle tom's cabin company arrived in a small arizona town. on the platform of the blistered station the members of the company learned that the hall in which they were to play had just burned to the ground. that was the last straw for the company. they were without money; they stood, disconsolately staring at the train, which waited for half an hour while the tourists ate breakfast in the lunchroom of the station. the stage-manager held in leash three dogs--the dogs that the bill-posters displayed as ferocious bloodhounds, pursuing eliza across the ice. as a matter of fact, coburg and hilda were two well-bred, well-trained great danes. the third dog, saxe gotha, a puppy of ten months, was their son. a well-dressed tourist eyed the dogs intensely; finally, he came up and felt them over with the hand of the dog-fancier. "give me fifty dollars for the three of them!" said the manager suddenly. the stranger stared at the manager suspiciously. fifty dollars was a low price for such dogs. the stranger did not believe that so poor a company could have come by them honestly. however, he shrugged his shoulders and drew a roll of bills from his pocket. "all right," he said. "only i don't want the pup. he's bad with distemper. i haven't time to fuss with him." the manager in turn shrugged his shoulders, took the fifty dollars, and, while the new owner led coburg and hilda toward the baggage-car of the train, the uncle tom's cabin company boarded the day coach. thus it happened that a thorough-bred great dane puppy, whose father and mother had been born in the soft green dusk of a german forest--a young boarhound--was left to fight for his sick life on the parching sands of an alien desert. there had been no need to tie saxe gotha. when the puppy had started down the platform after his father and mother, the manager had given him a hasty kick and a "get back, you!" saxe gotha sat down on his haunches, panting in the burning sun, and stared after the receding train with the tragic look of understanding common to his kind. yet, in his eyes there was less regret than fear. the dane is a "one-man dog." if he is given freedom of choice, he chooses for master a man to whom he gives his heart. other men may own him; no other man except this choice of his heart ever wins his love. saxe gotha had yet to find his man. the station-master started toward the dog, but saxe gotha did not heed him. he rose and trotted toward the north, through the little town, quite as if he had business in that direction. the pup was not handsome at this period of his life. he was marked like a tiger with tawny and gray stripes. his feet and his head looked too large for him, and his long back seemed to sag with the weight of his stomach. but, even to the most ignorant observer, he gave promise of distinction, of superb size, and strength, and intelligence. at the edge of the little town, saxe gotha buried his feverish head in the watering-trough at the wrenn rancho, drank till his sides swelled visibly, then started on along the trail with his business-like puppy trot. when he got out into the open desert, which stretched thirty miles wide from the river range to the hualpai, and one hundred miles long from the railway to the colorado river, he found the northern trail with no apparent difficulty.... saxe gotha was headed for the north, for the cool, sweet depth of forest that was his natural home. he took fairly good care of himself. at intervals he dropped in the shade of a joshua-tree, and, after struggling to bite the cholla thorns from his feet, he would doze for a few minutes, then start on again. his distemper was easier in the sun, although his fever and the desert heat soon evaporated the moisture that he had absorbed at the wrenn's. about three o'clock he stopped, wrinkled his black muzzle, and raised his finely domed head. the trail now lay along the foot of the hualpai. he turned abruptly to the right, off the main trail, and trotted into a little cañon. on the other side of a rock that hid it from the main trail was jim baldwin's tent. jim came to the door, at the sound of saxe gotha drinking up his little spring. jim was a lover of dogs. he did not know saxe gotha's breed, but he did recognize his promise of distinction. "howdy, old man!" said jim. "have a can of beef!" saxe gotha responded to the greeting with a puppy gambol, and devoured the beef with gusto. jim went into the tent for a rope. when he returned, the pup was a receding dot on the north trail. * * * * * about four o'clock, the tri-weekly stage from the happy luck camp met saxe gotha. dick furman, the driver, stopped the panting horses and invited the huge puppy to ride with him. saxe gotha wriggled, chased his tail round once with a bark like the booming of a town clock, and with this exchange of courtesies dick drove on southward, and the pup continued on his way to the north. * * * * * as darkness came on, he slowed his pace, paused and sniffed, and again turned off the main trail to a rough path up the side of the mountain. before a silent hut of adobe, he found a half-barrel of water. saxe gotha rose on his hind legs, thrust his nose into the barrel and drank lustily. then he stood rigid, with uncropped ears lifted and nose thrust upward, sniffing. after a minute he whined. the business to the north was pressing; the pup did not want to stop; yet he still stood, listening, sniffing. at last, he started back to the main trail; when he reached it, he stopped once more, and once more sniffed and listened and whined; then he deliberately turned back to the silent hut, and trotted along the narrow trail that led up behind it to the west. a short distance up the mountain, clear in the light of the moon, a tiny spring bubbled out of the ground, forming a pool the size of a wash-basin. a man lay beside the pool. saxe gotha walked up to him, whining, and then walked round and round him, sniffing him from head to foot. he licked his face and pawed at his shoulder with his clumsy paw. but the man lay in the heavy slumber of utter exhaustion. he was a tall, lean, strong young fellow, in his early twenties. his empty canteen, his pick and bar beside him, with a sack of ore, showed that he was just back from a prospecting trip. he had evidently run short of water and, after a forced march to the spring, where he had relieved his thirst, had dropped asleep on the spot. at last saxe gotha lay down with his nose on the young man's shoulder, and his brown eyes were alert in the moonlight. saxe gotha had found his man! * * * * * saxe gotha had found his man! a discovery as important as that, of course, delayed the journey toward the north. all through the desert night the great dane pup lay shivering beside his man. what he saw beyond the silent desert, what vision of giant tree trunks, gray-green against an age-old turf, lured his exiled heart we cannot know. to understand what sudden fealty to the heedless form he guarded forbade him his north would solve the riddle of love itself. little by little the stars faded. at last dawn lighted the face of the sleeping man; he stirred, and suddenly sat up. saxe gotha bounded to his feet with a bark of joy. startled, the young man jumped up, staggering with weakness, and scowled when he saw the big puppy chasing his tail. hunger and a guilty conscience are richly productive of vicious moods. saxe gotha's man picked up a rock and hurled it at him. "git! you blamed hound, you!" in utter astonishment, saxe gotha paused in his joyous barking, and stood staring at the young fellow's sullen face. it was unbelievable! the young man did not in the least realize that he had been found! and yet, despite the eyes inflamed by the glare of the desert, his face was an intelligent one, with good features. he glared at the pup, and then walked weakly down the trail to his hut. saxe gotha followed, and sat on his haunches before the door, waiting. after a long time, the young man came out, washed and shaved, and with fresh clothes. he picked up his sack of ore, and as he did so, a haunted look came into his gray eyes. such a look on so young a face might have told saxe gotha that the desert is bad for youth. but saxe gotha would not have cared. he kept his distance warily and wagged his tail. when the young man's glance fell on the dog, he saw him as something living on which to vent his own sense of guilt. again he threw a stone at saxe gotha. "get out! go back where you belong!" the pup dodged, and stood waiting. strangely dense his man was! the young man did not look at him again, but fell to sorting samples of ore. certain tiny pieces he gloated over as he found them, and he put them in a sack that he hid behind the door. now, saxe gotha never meant to do it, but he was young, and his distemper made him very ill, and he had not slept all night. when he saw his man safely absorbed in his work, he curled up in the shade of a rock and went off into the heavy sleep of a sick dog. when he awoke, his man was gone! saxe gotha ran round and round through the adobe. the house was thick with scents of him, but whither he had gone was not to be told, for desert sands hold no scents. on the door-step lay an old vest of the man's. the dog sat down on this, and lifted his voice in a howl of anguish. there was only one thing to do, of course--wait for the man's return. * * * * * all day saxe gotha waited. he drank deeply from the barrel of water, but he went without food, although the remains of the young man's breakfast lay on the table. it was not in saxe gotha's breed to steal. all day and all night he waited. now and again, he lifted his great voice in grief. with his face to that north which he had forbidden himself to seek, even though he was but a dog, he might have been youth mourning its perennial discovery that duty and desire do not always go hand in hand. saxe gotha might have been all the courage, all the loneliness, all the grief of youth, disillusioned. the morning of the second day, a man rode up the trail. he was not saxe gotha's man. he dismounted, and called, "hey, evans!" saxe gotha, a little unsteady on his legs, sat on his haunches and growled. "where's your boss, pup?" asked the man. "i didn't know he had a dog." saxe gotha growled. "humph!" said the man. "off stealing ore again, i suppose." the stranger prowled round the outside of the hut, and then came to the door. "get out of the way, dog! i'm going to find out where this rich claim is that he's finding free gold in. he's a thief, anyhow, not to report it to his company." as he put his foot on the door-step, saxe gotha snapped at him. the stranger jumped back. "you brute hound!" he cried. "what do you mean? if i had a gun, i'd shoot you!" saxe gotha's anger gave him strength to rise. he stood lurching; his lips were drawn back over his fangs, his ears were flat to his head. the stranger walked back a few steps. "he must weigh nearly a hundred pounds!" he muttered. "come on, old pup. here, have some of my snack! here's a piece of corned beef! come on, old fellow!" cajolery and threats were alike futile. saxe gotha was guarding for his man. after a while the dog's dumb fury maddened the stranger. he began to hurl rocks at the pup. at first the shots were harmless; then a jagged piece of ore caught the dog on the cheek and laid it open, and another slashed his back. with the snarl of a tiger, saxe gotha made a leap from the door at the stranger's throat. the man screamed, and jumped for his horse so hastily that saxe gotha caught only the shoulder of his coat and ripped the back out of the garment. before the pup could gather his weakened body for another charge, the stranger was mounted. he whipped his snorting horse down the trail, and disappeared. saxe gotha feebly worried at the torn coat, then dragged himself back to the door and lay down on the vest, too weak to lick his wounds. the rest of the morning he lay quiet. at noon he suddenly opened his eyes. his ears pricked forward, and his tail beat feebly on the floor. his man rode up. he had a sack of fresh supplies thrown across his saddle. he turned his horse into the corral, then came toward the hut. the vicious mood seemed still to be with him. "you still here?" he growled. then he caught sight of the piece of cloth, picked it up, and looked at the mauled and blood-stained muck on it. he stared at saxe gotha curiously. "johnson was here, eh? i'd know that check anywhere. the thief! what happened?" as evans came up, saxe gotha tried to give the old gambol of joy, but succeeded only in falling heavily. the young fellow strode into the hut, and walked slowly about. the sack of nuggets was still behind the door. the map that he had long ago prepared for the company for which he was investigating mines still lay covered with dust. on the table were the hunk of bacon, the fried potatoes, the dry bread. a number of jagged rocks were scattered on the floor. the dog was bloody. * * * * * slowly young evans turned his whole attention to saxe gotha, who lay watching him with passionate intentness. evans took a handful of raw potato skins from the table and offered them to the pup. saxe gotha snatched at them and swallowed them as if frenzied with hunger. evans looked at the food on the table, then at the famished, emaciated dog. he stood gripping the edge of the table and staring out at the desert. a slow red came up from his neck and crossed his face; it seemed a magic red, for it wiped the vicious lines from his face and left it boyish and shamed. suddenly his lips trembled. he dropped down in the doorway and ran his hand gently along the pup's sensitive back. his bloodshot eyes were blinded with tears. "old man," he whispered to saxe gotha, "i wasn't worth it!" the dog looked up into the young man's face with an expression eager and questioning. and then, summoning all his feeble strength, he crowded his long, awkward body into the young man's lap.... after a moment he set saxe gotha on the floor and fed him a can of evaporated milk, carefully warmed, with bits of freshly fried bacon in it. he washed out the dog's cuts, then put him to bed in his own bunk. all that afternoon, while the dog slept, evans paced the hut, fighting his fight. and, like all solitary desert-dwellers, he talked aloud.... "they promised to pay me regularly, to raise me, to give me a job in the home office after a year. it's been two years now. yes, i know, i made some promises. i was to report all finds and turn in all valuable ore to them. but they haven't treated me right." then he turned to the sleeping dog, and his face softened. "wouldn't that beat you, his not eating the stuff on the table! goodness knows i'd treated him badly enough! it seems as if even a dog might have a sense of honor; as if it didn't matter what i was, the fool pup had to keep straight with himself; as if--" suddenly evans stopped and gulped. again came the slow, agonizing blush. for a long time he stood in silence. finally, he squared his shoulders and moistened his lips. "i can send the maps and what ore i have left by stage tomorrow. but it will take another year to get the whole thing straightened up, and get them paid back--another year of loneliness, and sand-storms, and sweltering. no snowy christmas or green spring or the smell of burning leaves in the fall this year for me. i guess the pup will stay by me, though." as if he realized that there was need of him, saxe gotha woke, and ambled over to the man's side. evans sat down in the door, and the dog squatted beside him. evans turned, took the dog's great head between his hands, and looked into the limpid eyes. "i guess, old man, that there are more ways than one of making a success of yourself, and money-making is the least of them." in evans's eyes were the loneliness and grief of disappointed youth. but the rest of his face once more was clear and boyish with the wonderful courage of the young. saxe gotha pawed evans's knee wistfully. perhaps across the stillness of the desert he caught the baying of the hunting pack in some distant, rain-drenched woodland. yet he would not go. the dog leaned warmly against his man, who slid an arm across the tawny back. then, with faces to their forbidden north, man and dog watched the desert night advance. edna ferber. among those who are striving for a permanent place among short story writers is edna ferber, a young woman who makes her stories interesting through her own keen observation of character traits revealed in the everyday life about her. miss ferber's work deserves mention among any group of wisconsin writers quite as much from the promise of what may still come as from that already accomplished. her ability to see the real in character and the truth in real life is the strong characteristic of her work. she has attempted to follow somewhat closely the language of the everyday life she portrays. edna ferber's short stories, many of which have appeared in various magazines, have been collected into books published under the titles of "buttered side down," "dawn o'hara," "roast beef medium," and "personality plus." these stories are unified through the two characters portrayed, dawn o'hara and mrs. emma mcchesney. it is probable that much of her own struggle and much of her aspiration for women is portrayed in these two characters. she hopes to show that women may make an undisputed place for themselves in the professional and business life. the first of these characters is a young irish woman who has devoted her energies to the mastering of the city newspaper reporter's work. through the story of dawn o'hara's struggles, edna ferber has been able to give many interesting comments upon the toil and thrills of this nerve-racking work. at the same time she has been able to paint the struggle of the young writer to produce the first book, to picture german milwaukee in a most interesting manner, and to make some interesting comments upon mutual helpfulness. emma mcchesney is an example of the extraordinarily successful business woman. despite the most discouraging conditions, she works her way from the beginning of a firm's least inviting employment to the complete management of its affairs. all the time she is inspired by the desire to give her son the best education and the best start in life and to assist him to the most manly character possible. the author rewards emma mcchesney with the full realization of her ambitions. edna ferber was born in appleton, wisconsin. her home was a humble one, but was able to provide her with the opportunity for high school education and a very little work in lawrence college. after graduating from high school, she did work for the appleton crescent in the capacity of news collector and reporter. through this work she began to realize her powers and at the same time she trained herself to that keen observation of character which constitutes one of the greatest pleasures in her work. appleton's stores, hotels, newspapers, and working life in general became her laboratory in which to study the characteristics, defects, and aspirations of human life as she finds it. as she has achieved greater success in her writing she has widened her sphere of acquaintanceship and of helpfulness. her present home is chicago. the selection from her writings which we are permitted to give here is chosen because it illustrates her style and at the same time gives a vivid picture of one phase of the life of wisconsin's metropolis. it is a chapter taken from her book, "dawn o'hara," and is entitled, "steeped in german." steeped in german from "dawn o'hara." copyright, , by frederick stokes publishing co. i am living in a little private hotel just across from the court house square with its scarlet geraniums and its pretty fountain. the house is filled with german civil engineers, mechanical engineers, and herr professors from the german academy. on sunday mornings we have pfannkuchen with currant jelly, and the herr professors come down to breakfast in fearful flappy german slippers. i'm the only creature in the place that isn't just over from germany. even the dog is a dachshund. it is so unbelievable that every day or two i go down to wisconsin street and gaze at the stars and stripes floating from the government building, in order to convince myself that this is america. it needs only a kaiser or so, and a bit of unter den linden to be quite complete. the little private hotel is kept by herr and frau knapf. after one has seen them, one quite understands why the place is steeped in a german atmosphere up to the eyebrows. i never would have found it myself. it was doctor von gerhard who had suggested knapf's and who had paved the way for my coming here. "you will find it quite unlike anything you have ever tried before," he had warned me. "very german it is, and very, very clean, and most inexpensive. also i think you will find material there--how is it you call it?--copy, yes? well, there should be copy in plenty; and types! but you shall see." from the moment i rang the knapf door-bell i saw. the dapper, cheerful herr knapf, wearing a disappointed kaiser wilhelm mustache, opened the door. i scarcely had begun to make my wishes known when he interrupted with a large wave of the hand, and an elaborate german bow. "ach, yes! you would be the lady of whom the herr doktor has spoken. gewiss frau orme, not? but so a young lady i did not expect to see. a room we have saved for you--aber wunderhübsch. it makes me much pleasure to show. folgen sie mir, bitte." "you--speak english?" i faltered with visions of my evenings spent in expressing myself in the sign language. "english? but yes. here in milwaukee it gives aber mostly german. and then, too, i have been only twenty years in this country. and always in milwaukee. here is it gemütlich--and mostly it gives german." i tried not to look frightened, and followed him up to the--"but wonderfully beautiful" room. to my joy i found it high-ceilinged, airy, and huge, with a vault of a clothes closet bristling with hooks, and boasting an unbelievable number of shelves. my trunk was swallowed up in it. never in all my boarding-house experience have i seen such a room nor such a closet. the closet must have been built for a bride's trousseau in the days of hoop-skirts and scuttle bonnets. there was a separate and distinct hook for each and every one of my most obscure garments. i tried to spread them out. i used two hooks to every petticoat, and three for my kimono, and when i had finished there were rows of hooks to spare. tiers of shelves yawned for the hat-boxes which i possessed not. bluebeard's wives could have held a family reunion in that closet and invited all of solomon's spouses. finally, in desperation, i gathered all my poor garments together and hung them in a social bunch on the hooks nearest the door. how i should have loved to show that closet to a select circle of new york boarding-house landladies! after wrestling in vain with the forest of hooks, i turned my attention to my room. i yanked a towel thing off the center table and replaced it with a scarf that peter had picked up in the orient. i set up my typewriter in a corner near a window and dug a gay cushion or two and a chafing-dish out of my trunk. i distributed photographs of norah and max and the spalpeens separately, in couples, and in groups. then i bounced up and down in a huge yellow brocade chair and found it unbelievably comfortable. of course, i reflected, after the big veranda, and the tree at norah's, and the leather-cushioned comfort of her library, and the charming tones of her oriental rugs and hangings-- "oh, stop your carping, dawn!" i told myself. "you can't expect charming tones and oriental doo-dads and apple trees in a german boarding house. anyhow there's running water in the room. for general utility purposes that's better than a pink prayer rug." there was a time when i thought that it was the luxuries that made life worth living. that was in the old bohemian days. "necessities!" i used to laugh, "pooh! who cares about necessities. what if the dishpan does leak? it is the luxuries that count." bohemia and luxuries! half a dozen lean, boarding-house years have steered me safely past that. after such a course in common sense you don't stand back and examine the pictures of a pink moses in a nest of purple bull-rushes, or complain because the bureau does not harmonize with the wall paper. neither do you criticize the blue and saffron roses that form the rug pattern. 'deedy not! instead you warily punch the mattress to see if it is rock-stuffed, and you snoop into the clothes closet; you inquire the distance to the nearest bath room, and whether the payments are weekly or monthly, and if there is a baby in the room next door. oh, there's nothing like living in a boarding-house for cultivating the materialistic side. but i was to find that here at knapf's things were quite different. not only was ernest von gerhard right in saying it was "very german, and very, very clean;" he recognized good copy when he saw it. types! i never dreamed that such faces existed outside of the old german woodcuts that one sees illustrating time-yellowed books. i had thought myself hardened to strange boarding-house dining rooms, with their batteries of cold, critical women's eyes. i had learned to walk unruffled in the face of the most carping, suspicious and the fishiest of these batteries. therefore, on my first day at knapf's, i went down to dinner in the evening, quite composed and secure in the knowledge that my collar was clean and that there was no flaw to find in the fit of my skirt in the back. as i opened the door of my room i heard sounds as of a violent altercation in progress downstairs. i leaned over the balusters and listened. the sounds rose and fell, swelled and boomed. they were german sounds that started in the throat, gutturally, and spluttered their way up. they were sounds such as i had not heard since the night i was sent to cover a socialist meeting in new york. i tip-toed down stairs, although i might have fallen down and landed with a thud without being heard. the din came from the direction of the dining-room. well, come what might, i would not falter. after all, it could not be worse than the awful time when i had helped cover the teamsters' strike. i peered into the dining-room. the thunder of conversation went on as before. but there was no blood shed. nothing but men and women sitting at small tables, eating and talking. when i say eating and talking, i do not mean that those acts were carried on separately. not at all. the eating and talking went on simultaneously, neither interrupting the other. a fork full of food and a mouthful of ten-syllabled german words met, wrestled, and passed one another, unscathed. i stood in the doorway, fascinated until herr knapf spied me, took a nimble skip in my direction, twisted the discouraged mustaches into temporary sprightliness, and waved me toward a table in the center of the room. then a frightful thing happened. when i think of it now i turn cold. the battery was not that of women's eyes, but that of men's. and conversation ceased! the uproar and the booming of vowels was hushed. the silence was appalling. i looked up in horror to find that what seemed to be millions of staring blue eyes were fixed on me. the stillness was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. such men! immediately i dubbed them the aborigines, and prayed that i might find adjectives with which to describe their foreheads. it appeared that the aborigines were especially favored in that they were all placed at one long, untidy table at the head of the room. the rest of us sat at small tables. later i learned that they were all engineers. at meals they discuss engineering problems in the most awe-inspiring german. after supper they smoke impossible german pipes and dozens of cigarettes. they have bulging, knobby foreheads and bristling pompadours, and some of the rawest of them wear wild-looking beards, and thick spectacles, and cravats and trousers that lew fields never even dreamed of. they are all graduates of high-sounding foreign universities and are horribly learned and brilliant, but they are the worst mannered lot i ever saw. in the silence that followed my entrance a red-cheeked maid approached me and asked what i would have for supper. supper? i asked. was not dinner served in the evening? the aborigines nudged each other and sniggered like fiendish little school-boys. the red-cheeked maid looked at me pityingly. dinner was served in the middle of the day, natürlich. for supper there was wienerschnitzel and kalter aufschnitt, also kartoffelsalat, and fresh kaffeekuchen. the room hung breathless on my decision. i wrestled with a horrible desire to shriek and run. instead i managed to mumble an order. the aborigines turned to one another inquiringly. "was hat sie gesagt?" they asked. "what did she say?" whereupon they fell to discussing my hair and teeth and eyes and complexion in german as crammed with adjectives as was the rye bread over which i was choking, with caraway. the entire table watched me with wide-eyed, unabashed interest while i ate, and i advanced by quick stages from red-faced confusion to purple mirth. it appeared that my presence was the ground for a heavy german joke in connection with the youngest of the aborigines. he was a very plump and greasy looking aborigine with a doll-like rosiness of cheek and a scared and bristling pompadour and very small pig-eyes. the other aborigines clapped him on the back and roared: "ai fritz! jetzt brauchst du nicht zu weinen! deine lena war aber nicht so huebsch, eh?" later i learned that fritz was the newest arrival and that since coming to this country he had been rather low in spirits in consequence of a certain flaxen-haired lena whom he had left behind in the fatherland. an examination of the dining room and its other occupants served to keep my mind off the hateful long table. the dining room was a double one, the floor carpetless and clean. there was a little platform at one end with hardy-looking plants in pots near the windows. the wall was ornamented with very german pictures of very plump, bare-armed german girls being chucked under the chin by very dashing mustachioed german lieutenants. it was all very bare, and strange and foreign to my eyes and yet there was something bright and comfortable about it. i felt that i was going to like it, aborigines and all. after my first letter home norah wrote frantically, demanding to know if i was the only woman in the house. i calmed her fears by assuring her that, while the men were interesting and ugly with the fascinating ugliness of a bulldog, the women were crushed looking and uninteresting and wore hopeless hats. i have written norah and max reams about this household, from the aborigines to minna, who tidies my room and serves my meals, and admires my clothes. minna is related to frau knapf, whom i have never seen. minna is inordinately fond of dress, and her remarks anent my own garments are apt to be a trifle disconcerting, especially when she intersperses her recital of dinner dishes with admiring adjectives directed at my blouse or hat. thus: "wir haben roast beef, und sparribs mit sauerkraut, und schicken--ach wie schoen, frau orme! aber ganz pracchtvoll?" her eyes and hands are raised toward heaven. "what's prachtful?" i ask, startled. "the chicken?" "nein; your waist. selbst gemacht?" i am even becoming hardened to the manners of the aborigines. it used to fuss me to death to meet one of them in the halls. they always stopped short, brought heels together with a click, bent stiffly from the waist, and thundered: "nabben', fräulein!" i have learned to take the salutation quite calmly, and even the wildest, most spectacled and knobby-browed aborigine cannot startle me. nonchalantly i reply, "nabben'," and wish norah could but see me in the act. when i told ernst von gerhard about them, he laughed a little and shrugged his shoulders and said: "na, you should not look so young, and so pretty, and so unmarried. in germany a married woman brushes her hair quite smoothly back, and pins it in a hard knob. and she knows nothing of such bewildering collars and fluffy frilled things in the front of the blouse. how do you call them--jabots?" george l. teeple. mr. george l. teeple was born in champaign, illinois, in , and at the age of nine came to whitewater to live with his aunt and uncle. he was graduated from the old "academic department" of the whitewater normal, about which school he writes so charmingly in the sketch here given. mr. teeple planned his collegiate career in preparation for the profession of engineering. he was graduated from cornell university in , and was engaged in active engineering work and instructural duties in this line until . but at this time he felt the call to the field of english, and he gave special study to this subject for two years at harvard. from to he was instructor in english in the state normal school at stevens point, but at this time the demands of his health made it necessary that he resume active outdoor work, so, since the latter date, he has been more or less closely identified with his first-chosen profession. but in all these years he has never lost his interest in creative literary activities. he writes very slowly and carefully, with infinite pains and almost endless revision. his work, as represented in "the battle of gray's pasture," fully repays his effort, for, though the phrases seem to have come easily and readily, they show the fitness and grace that are the result of no other thing than rigorous care. his home is in whitewater, which, as will be noted, has sheltered many wisconsin writers, notably president albert salisbury and dr. rollin salisbury, george steele and julius birge. the selection here given is an account of a real football battle. but "gray's pasture" has now been transformed into a modern athletic field, and the "spreading oak" has been replaced by a concrete grandstand. the battle of gray's pasture from the century magazine, september, . ... you will find no such "normalities" nowadays. the old breed is gone. the greenest i see look quite correct and starched and tailor-made. no originality of costume now. no "high-water pants," such as refreshed the eye in the old days. no pitifully insufficient coat, stretching its seams across some great fellow's back, button struggling with buttonhole to hold in his expanding chest, showing by its very insufficiency what a hercules he was. you will see none of these now. they have disappeared; the old sap and individuality quite, quite gone. * * * * * there is no such spirit in the school today. they have a football eleven, it is true, and it holds its head well up among its mates; a little above 'em, too, most of the time; the old school's the old school yet, i tell 'em; but, after all, it isn't the old game, nor the old spirit. i go out sometimes to watch them, and think: "well, it's a queer game they play now, and call football!" they trot out in such astonishing toggery; padded and guarded from shin to crown--welted, belted, strapped, and buckled beyond recognition. and there's no independence in the play; every move has to be told 'em. it's as if they weren't big enough to run alone; and so they hire a big stepmother of a university "coach," who stands around in a red sweater, and yells, and berates them. not a man answers back; he doesn't dare to. they don't dare eat plain, christian food, but have a "training table," and diet like invalids. i've seen 'em at a game not dare to take a plain drink of water; when they got thirsty they sucked at a wet sponge, like babes at the bottle! it was not so in our day. no apron strings of a university coach were tied to us. we were free-born men. when we wanted to play we got together and went down to the old pasture, to the big oak tree that stood near the middle of it; and there we would "choose up," and take off our coats and vests and neckgear, and pile them round the oak, and walk out on the field and go at it--_everybody_--not a pitiful dozen or so, while the rest stood with their hands in their pockets and looked on--but _everybody_! and it was _football_: no playing half an hour without seeing the ball in the air once; we kicked it all the time--except when we missed it, and then we kicked the other fellow's shins! and when we got thirsty we went down to the spring and took an honest drink out of an honest tin cup. and what a fine, free, open game it was--the old game! what art you could put into its punting, and running, and dodging, and creeping, and drop-kicking! and what a glorious tumult in the old-fashioned scrimmage, especially the scrimmages in the old ditch. it was a rather broad and shallow ditch, and into it the ball would often roll, a dozen excited fellows dashing after it; and there in the ditch bottom, in mad mêlee, frantic foot to foot, naked shin against sole leather, we would fight to drive the ball through the opposing mob. there might the rustic normalite, with implacable cowhides, the bigger now the better, sweeten his humiliation with revenge, and well i remember the fearful devastation he sometimes wrought among our academic shins! but we were used to that. indeed, we youngsters gloried in it. it was a spot upon your honor not to have a spot upon your shin. we compared them as soldiers brag of their wounds in battle, and he who could exhibit the largest and most lurid specimen was the best man. those discolored patches were our "v. c.'s" and "crosses of the legion of honor"; seals attesting our spirit, stamped with a stamp of good, stiff sole leather, painfully enough, it was true, but who cared for that? we were only sorry we could not exhibit them in public. to be obliged to carry such decorations under your trouser leg was hard. * * * * * football night at the "lincolnian literary," and laury thompson's speech there i must tell about. if any of the old boys ever read this--and it is for them i am writing it--they will wonder if i leave that out. for it marked an epoch in the normal preparation for the game. and coming from laury thompson it was so unexpected. he always looked so cheerful in his high-water pants. his clothes were such a harmonious misfit. and he got off his absurdities with such a grave, humorous-innocent face; only the veiled twinkling in the eyes to show that it was not the most solemn matter in the world. he "wore his pants high-water a-purpose," he told us; "had 'em made so for hot weather; coolin', ye know; refreshin'; lets the air in; breeze of heaven playin' up and down your pant-leg." and when one of the boys cracked some joke on his big shoes, he gravely remonstrated, assuring us that he "had those shoes made sort of _in memoriam_; hide of a heifer calf of his'n that got killed by the cars: a rosebud of a little critter; he kind o' wanted something to remember her by; tarnation good leather, too." he had "writ a poem" on that calf, he said, but refused to recite it; "felt delikit about exposin' his feelin's." the old lincolnian literary society is dead now, and its room has been turned into a shop for the manual training department. it is a long, narrow room on the third floor, and was crowded that night to the very door. the meeting, called "to rouse public spirit in the matter of the coming game," grew spirited and hilarious as the speaking proceeded, and when thompson was called on, and his tall, odd figure rose up in the midst, there was great thundering of boots along the floor. "boys," he began, "our academic friends, raised, most of 'em, in this _proud metropolis_, seem to 'a' got the notion that because we haven't just stepped out of a fashion plate we can't play football. they tell us to 'thrash the hayseed out of our hair,' and to 'slack off on our galluses, and see if we can't get some o' that high-water out of our pants;' they've been 'tryin' to figure out our combined acreage o' boot leather,' they say, 'and had to give it up; arabic notation wa'n't equal to it.' "well, let 'em laugh. i reckon we're duck-backed enough to shed whole showers o' that kind o' stuff; and when the game comes off they'll find that what wins a game o' football ain't pants, nor hair, nor shoe-leather, but what's in and under 'em. they'll find _men's_ feet in those shoes, and _men's_ legs in those trousers, and the brains o' men under that hair! "for i tell you, we're goin' to win that game; and we're goin' to win it just because o' what gave us the hayseed an' the high-water and the boot-leather; because we've got on our side the men with muscle hardened on the old farm; men who've swung an axe from mornin' till night in the wood-lot, and cradled two acres of oats a day, and who'll go through 'em in a scrimmage like steers through standin' corn! "yes, boys, it's true; we're 'hayseeds' and 'country jakes.' all the better for that. grass don't grow down, and go where you will, you'll find the hayseed at the top. why, what was he?"--he turned and extended a long arm and forefinger toward a picture of daniel webster that hung behind him on the wall of the room,--"what was he? a hayseed, and son of a hayseed!" yes, there's a hayseed in our hair; proud it's there! and our boots are big an' square; so they air! and when you hear 'em thunderin' on the academic shin, back them cowhide boots to win! academs, beware! hooray then for hayseed hair! it gits there! and for cowhides big and square; every pair! and when you hear 'em thunderin' on the academic shin, back them cowhide boots to win! academs, take care! * * * * * but the morning of the great day came with a broad, red sun rolling and tumbling in mist, which blew away with rising wind and let the sun in to dry the field. * * * * * and _we_ were the heroes; the great observed of all observers. we trod the earth with a large, heroic tread. i, the smallest, last, and youngest of the company, walked with the lordiest stride of all. the season long i had fought for a "place on the team," and i had won, and annie was there to see. never mind who annie was. i am telling now about a football team. "look at banty, here," i heard a normalite say, "captain o' the team, ain't he? hull thing, an' dog under the wagon." even annie smiled, and just then my cousin teddy came up. "what are you lookin' so red an' savage about?" says teddy. "achin' to jump into that normal team," says i. under the big oak rob mackenzie and tom powell, with the big fellows around them, were settling the last preliminaries. the referee pitched the coin. "heads it is," called tom quietly. "we'll take the north goal." the wind by this time was stiff out of the north, and the normals had won the toss. * * * * * now, too, we saw the meaning of the mysterious practice in normal hall. along the lower edge of the pasture, and forming the eastern side-line, there ran a "tight board" fence, and next it, the entire length of the pasture, the shallow ditch i have already spoken of. in that ditch we used to fight half of our scrimmages, and in that ditch the normals concentrated their strategy and strength. in massive formation, the ball in the midst, protected by the fence on one side and by a moving stockade of stout legs and sturdy shoulders on the other, down the ditch they would drive, sweeping away our lighter fellows like leaves as they went, on and on, to what seemed an inevitable goal. but right there the weakness of the play developed. the goal posts stood, as in the modern game, midway the ends of the field. no "touch-downs" counted, only goals; and to make a goal they must leave their ditch and protecting fence and come out into the open. and there rob mackenzie gathered his heavy men for the defense. with whitty, and nic, and jim greening, and the others, he would ram the normal formation until it broke; then unless someone had done it before him, he would go in himself, capture the ball, and with whitty, his team-mate, rush away with it toward the normal goal. * * * * * the second half began, and the normal pace grew faster. those endurin' muscles, "hardened on the old farm," that "had cradled two acres of oats a day, day in day out, under the july sun," were beginning to tell. like a sledge-hammer at a shaking door the normal formation pounded at our defence. when the door should fall seemed but a matter of time. the normalite roar along the side-line grew louder. again and again, while the scrimmage thickened, with john hicks and scott and simpson hurling into it, would burst out their thundering refrain: hooray for our hayseed hair; it gits there! an' our boots so big an' square; every pair! and when you hear 'em thunderin' on the academic shin, back them cowhide boots to win! academs, beware! and only for rob mackenzie we should again and again have gone down. how through our darkening fortunes shone the unconquerable spirit and energy of his play! like that kind of ancient bedouins who, "when evil bared before them his hindmost teeth, flew gaily to meet him, in company or alone!" again and again the normal formation rolled along the ditch sweeping our out-fighters before it, and again and again, as it reached the critical point and swung out into the field to make the goal, would rob hurl against it his heavy attack,--whitty, and rhodes, and limp, and jim greening, and big nic, and finally himself,--till the normal mass went into chaos; out of which, through some unguarded gap, the ball would come tumbling, rob and whitty behind it; then down the field together they would dart, the ball before them, we youngsters yelling madly in the rear, the battle-fire in us, which had flagged with fear, bursting up again in yells of exultation like a flame. yet not to score; again neither side could score. the second half approached its end, and it seemed as if the game would remain a tie. as the two sides suddenly realized this, there came, as if by common consent, a pause. the babel-roar along the side-line dropped into a hum. then a voice called out,--it was tom powell; you could hear him all over the field: "how much more time?" and the answer came clear and clean-cut through the dead silence: "one minute and a half!" the academics yelled with joy; no hope now of winning, but in so short a time the normals cannot score; we escape defeat; it will be a drawn battle. then they stilled again, not so sure. for the normal "sledge-hammer" was uplifting for a last blow. one chance remained, and tom powell staked all on a final cast. he left only van lone to guard his goal. every other man of his team he would build into the breaks of his formation in a last determined attack. wave after wave he had hurled against us; now this last, "a ninth one, gathering all the deep," he would hurl. the attack came on, and our out-fighters as usual went down before it. in practically perfect order, with simpson and john hicks in flank, and tom powell himself at the centre, it turned out of the ditch for the goal. whitty and jim greening went down; then big nic. the normal uproar gathered and swelled and burst, and swelled and burst again as they swept on. in front, rob mackenzie, with a last handful, stood yet. he spoke a few low, sharp words, and they went forward, not in mass, but in _line_. the cooler heads looked and wondered. what did it mean? what could a thin line do against that massive-moving squad of men? but just wrap round it like a shred of twine, and like twine again, break, while the mass swept on. so the line moved forward; but just as it was on point to strike, it stumbled apparently, the whole line together, and went down. the normal yell rose again. but it rose too soon; the line was not down, but crouching there, a barricade across the normal path. the stroke of strategy was too sudden to be met. driven on by its very mass and the blind momentum of the men in the rear, the normal formation struck our crouching line, toppled momentarily, as a wave topples over a wall of rock; then, self-destroying, its van tumbling over the academic line, its rear plunging on over its broken front, it crumbled, broke, and stopped. then, while the academics along the side-line went mad with exultation, the fallen chaos struggled to its feet, a wilder chaos than ever, a score of boots slamming for the ball at once, which bounded back and forth like a big leathern shuttlecock in the midst. so, for a long-drawn moment, then it leaped out clear and free, and a player after it like a cannon-flash, down the field toward the normal goal. well may the academics yell! it is rob mackenzie,--fastest man on the ground, and away now with a free field! hard after him john hicks, with every sinew at the stretch, and teeth grim-set, and the whole normal team streaming in a wild tail of pursuit behind. the side-line, which, until now, had held the surge of spectators, burst like a dam in flood, and poured a yelling torrent toward the normal goal. there stood big van lone, sole guardian bulldog at that gate; an honest bulldog, but terribly bewildered, all pandemonium storming in on him at once. he started forward, but what could he do against rob mackenzie? the ball rises over his head, hovers an instant at top flight, or seems to; then shoots forward between the goal posts. the game was won! and who that was there will ever forget the celebration that followed? rob mackenzie tossed skyward on a hundred shoulders, with mighty shouts, till the old pasture rocked and swam; the great, ruddy face of john hicks, shining through the press, undimmed by defeat, as he came to greet his victorious foe; the meeting and hand-grasp of the two heroes, amid tremendous tumult, all lesser yells upborne on the oceanic roar of nic; the wild processional through the town, tramping tumultuous to the roar of john brown's body, with rob in triumphal chariot, rolling on down main street toward the west, where the clouds of sunset flamed into bonfires and the firey sun itself seemed a huge cannon's mouth hurling a thunder salute in honor of the event. well, all that happened years ago. those old days can never come back. even the old pasture i cannot see as i saw it then. it was only the other day, drawn by old thoughts revived, that i walked out to see it, through the still summer afternoon, down the old familiar road, so well known but so strangely quiet now, with its few scattered old white oaks and maples, that seem to nod sleepily in a kind of old friendliness, till you come to the turn by the burr oak grove where the pasture opens. there they lay,--the long, tranquil slope, the green level that had been one field, the ditch along the fence,--under the quiet sunshine, in sleep and silence. great, peaceful-looking white clouds, like great white cattle asleep, lay along the blue heaven overhead. the old oak where we were used to choose up stood motionless, as if it dreamed over the old days. could this be indeed the old pasture, scene of our stormy uproar, this field asleep? i turned away with a half lonely feeling. the old boys are gone, too, most of them, scattered i don't know where. do they ever, i wonder, after the day's work is done, sit in the evening by the warm firelight, while the soft pipe-smoke wraps them in its tranquil cloud, and dream foolishly, as i do, over those old days? i like to think they do. george byron merrick the editors of this volume have been struck many times with the element of grouping that seems to have asserted itself in wisconsin literary efforts, as in those of america, or england, or perhaps any country. centers seem to be formed from which radiate light and glow of literary activities. cambridge, massachusetts, was the great literary center of our country in the middle fifty years of the nineteenth century. the lake region was such a center for english production in the preceding fifty years. in wisconsin, naturally enough, the university has been the fountain from which has flowed much that is most worth-while in the literature of our state. it should be noted that not only those who are formally grouped here with the university as their center may justly be thought to be vitally indebted to that institution for the impulse to write. among the authors first mentioned in this book, john muir, zona gale, mrs. willsie, and professor sanford all were students at the university, and no doubt were profoundly influenced by their alma mater. the next most important source of inspiration to our authors seems to have been our rivers. the beautiful bluffs bordering the mississippi; the charm and grace of the sweeping lines of lake pepin; the tumbling, rushing waters of the wisconsin, with their thickly-wooded hills and their green slopes of prairie and their october sunsets, seen through crimson oak and maple leaves; or the numerous falls of the upper fox,--all have stirred the hearts of the fortunate people privileged to live within their influence. hence, at stevens point, la crosse, appleton, and a few other cities in the state with similar surroundings, we have a literature with charming local flavor. elsewhere we quote mr. howard m. jones's "when shall we together," which faithfully depicts the "river feeling" of those who love the father of waters. we desire to acquaint our readers, at this point, however, with a brief excerpt from what is perhaps the most careful and faithful depiction of the mississippi itself,--mr. merrick's "old times on the upper mississippi." the author lived for many years amid the scenes that he depicts, and for nine years was a pilot on an upper mississippi boat. the romance and adventure of that life helped more to rouse and challenge the imagination than any other single feature of early pioneer days, and mr. merrick, though now what many would consider "pretty well along in years," is still young enough in the remembrance of those days. like many another hard-working pioneer, he caught the spirit of his work, and he here has faithfully set down the most careful record of river annals in existence, from a historical standpoint, and at the same time one which grips the interest of the reader. old times on the upper mississippi the recollections of a steamboat pilot from to , by george byron merrick. copyright, , by the author. from chapter xxx, pp. - . i knew that i had not yet been weaned from the spokes, and doubted if i ever should be. i said that i would try, and i did. i filed an application for the first leave of absence i had ever asked for from the railroad company, and it was granted. i found a man to assist the "devil" in getting out my paper, he doing the editing for pure love of editing, if not from love of the editor. we set our house in order, packed our trunk and grips, and when the specified fortnight was ended, we (my wife, my daughter, and myself) were comfortably bestowed in adjoining staterooms in the ladies' cabin of the "mary morton," and i was fidgeting about the boat, watching men "do things" as i had been taught, or had seen others do, twenty years ago or more. the big irish mate bullied his crew of forty "niggers," driving them with familiar oaths, to redoubled efforts in getting in the "last" packages of freight, which never reached the last. among the rest, in that half hour, i saw barrels of mess pork--a whole car load of it, which the "nigger" engine was striking down into the hold. shades of abraham! pork _out_ of st. paul! twenty years before, i had checked out a whole barge load (three hundred barrels) through from cincinnati, by way of cairo. cincinnati was the great porkopolis of the world, while chicago was yet keeping its pigs in each back yard, and every freeholder "made" his own winter's supply of pork for himself. the steward in charge of the baggage was always in the way with a big trunk on the gangway, just as of old. the engineers were trying their steam, and slowly turning the wheel over, with the waste cocks open, to clear the cylinders of water. the firemen were coaxing the beds of coal into the fiercer heats. the chief clerk compared the tickets which were presented by hurrying passengers with the reservation sheet, and assigned rooms, all "the best," to others who had no reservations. the "mud" clerk checked his barrels and boxes and scribbled his name fiercely and with many flourishes to the last receipts. the pilot on watch, mr. burns, sat on the window ledge in the pilot house, and waited. the captain stood by the big bell, and listened for the "all ready, sir!" of the mate. as the words were spoken, the great bell boomed out one stroke, the lines slacked away and were thrown off the snubbing posts. a wave of the captain's hand, a pull at once of the knobs of the wheel-frame, the jingle of a bell far below, the shiver of the boat as the great wheel began its work, and the bow of the "mary morton" swung to the south; a couple of pulls at the bell-rope, and the wheel was revolving ahead; in a minute more the escape pipes told us that she was "hooked up," and with full steam ahead we were on our way to st. louis. and i was again in the pilot house with my old chief, who bade me "show us what sort of an education you had when a youngster." despite my forty years i was a boy again, and tom burns was the critical chief, sitting back on the bench with his pipe alight, a comical smile oozing out of the corners of mouth and eyes, for all the world like the teacher of old. the very first minute i met the swing of the gangplank derrick (there is no jack staff on the modern steamboat, more's the pity), with two or three strokes when one would have been a plenty, yawing the boat around "like a toad in a hailstorm," as i was advised. i could feel the hot blood rushing to my cheeks, just as it did twenty years before under similar provocation, when the eye of the master was upon me. i turned around and found that mr. burns had taken it in, and we both laughed like boys--as i fancy both of us were for the time. but i got used to it very soon, getting the "feel of it," and as the "mary morton" steered like a daisy i lined out a very respectable wake; though tom tried to puzzle me a good deal with questions as to the landmarks, most of which i had forgotten save in a general way.... a mile or two below hastings i saw the "break" on the surface of the water which marked the resting-place of the "fanny harris," on which i had spent so many months of hard work, but which, looked back upon through the haze of twenty years, now seemed to have been nothing but holiday excursions. at prescott i looked on the familiar water front, and into the attic windows where with my brother i had so often in the night watches studied the characteristics of boats landing at the levee. going ashore i met many old-time friends, among whom was charles barnes, agent of the diamond jo line, who had occupied the same office on the levee since , and had met every steam boat touching the landing during all those years. he was the nestor of the profession, and was one of the very few agents still doing business on the water front who had begun such work prior to . since then, within a few years past, he also has gone, and that by an accident, while still in the performance of duties connected with the steamboat business. dropping rapidly down the river, we passed diamond bluff without stopping, but rounded to at red wing for passengers and freight, and afterward headed into a big sea on lake pepin, kicked up by the high south wind that was still blowing. we landed under the lee of the sandpit at lake city, and after getting away spent the better part of an hour in picking up a barge load of wheat, that was anchored out in the lake.... i turned in at an early hour, and lay in the upper berth, listening to the cinders skating over the roof a couple of feet above my face, and translating the familiar sounds that reached me from the engine-room and roof--the call for the draw at the railroad bridge, below the landing; the signal for landing at wabasha; the slow bell, the stopping-bell, the backing bell, and a dozen or twenty unclassified bells, before the landing was fully accomplished; the engineer trying the water in the boilers; the rattle of the slice-bars on the sides of the furnace doors as the firemen trimmed their fires; and one new and unfamiliar sound from the engine-room--the rapid exhaust of the little engine driving the electric generator, the only intruder among the otherwise familiar noises, all of which came to my sleepy senses as a lullaby. mrs. hattie tyng griswold. hattie tyng was born in boston in , and came with her parents to columbus, wisconsin, in , where, in course of time, she was married to mr. griswold, and it was in this delightful village that much of her work as an author was done. here she died in . the books by which she is best-known are: "apple blossoms," "waiting on destiny," "lucile and her friends," and "the home life of great authors." it is from the last named book that our selection is taken. as its title would indicate, the book aimed to give a more personal and intimate view of men and women well-known to fame than is to be found in most reference works. the young readers of this volume will know that mere dates and statistics do not enable them to know people; they like to have some personal details as to the habits and daily lives of the people about whom they read. mrs. griswold was so filled with the true teaching instinct that she realized this. she says in one of her works that since she had such a hard time when she was a little girl getting any picture in her mind of the great people about whom she read, that she determined to make it easier for other boys and girls to get these mental pictures; that is why she wrote "the home life of great authors." john g. whittier from "home life of great authors." copyright, , a. c. mcclurg & co. the poet whittier always calls to mind the prophet-bards of the olden time. there is much of the old semetic fire about him, and ethical and religious subjects seem to occupy his entire mind. like his own tauler, he walks abroad, constantly "pondering the solemn miracle of life; as one who, wandering in a starless night, feels momently the jar of unseen waves, and hears the thunder of an unknown sea breaking along an unimagined shore." his poems are so thoroughly imbued with this religious spirit that they seem to us almost like the sacred writings of the different times and nations of the world. they come to the lips upon all occasions of deep feeling almost as naturally as the scriptures do. they are current coin with reformers the world over. they are the alpha and omega of deep, strong religious faith. whoever would best express his entire confidence in the triumph of the right, and his reliance upon god's power against the devices of men, finds the words of whittier upon his lips; and to those who mourn and seek for consolation, how naturally and involuntarily come back lines from his poems they have long treasured, but which perhaps never had a personal application until now! to the wronged, the down-trodden, and the suffering they appeal as strongly as the psalms of david. he is the great high priest of literature. but few priests at any time have had such an audience and such influence as he. the moral and religious value of his work can scarcely be overstated. who can ever estimate the power which his strong words have had throughout his whole career in freeing the minds of other millions from the shackles of unworthy old beliefs? his blows have been strong, steady, persistent. he has never had the fear of man before his eyes. no man has done more for freedom, fellowship and character in religion than he. hypocrisy and falsehood and cant have been his dearest foes, and he has ridden at them early and late with his lance poised and his steed at full tilt. indeed, for a quaker, mr. whittier must be said to have a great deal of the martial spirit. the fiery, fighting zeal of the old reformers is in his blood. you can imagine him as upon occasion enjoying the imprecatory psalms. in his anti-slavery poems there is a depth of passionate earnestness which shows that he could have gone to the stake for his opinions had he lived in an earlier age than ours. that he did risk his life for them, even in our own day, is well known. during the intense heat of the anti-slavery conflict he was mobbed once and again by excited crowds; but he was not to be intimidated by all the powers of evil, and continued to speak his strong words and to sing his inspiring songs, whether men would hear or whether they would forbear. and those voices of freedom, whatever may be thought of them by mere critics and litterateurs, will outlast any poems of their day, and sound "down the ringing grooves of time" when much that is now honored has been forgotten. he will be known as the poet of a great cause, the bard of freedom, as long as the great anti-slavery conflict is remembered. he is a part, and an important part, of the history of his country, a central figure in the battalions of the brave. those wild, stirring bugle-calls of his cheered the little army, and held it together many a time when the cause was only a forlorn hope, and they came with their stern defiance into the camp of the enemy with such masterful power that some gallant enemies deserted to his side. they were afraid to be found fighting against god, as whittier had convinced them they were doing. there is the roll of drums and the clash of spears in these stirring strains; there are echoes from thermopylae and marathon, and the breath of the old greek heroes is in the air; there is a hint of the old border battle-cries from scotland's hills and tarns; from jura's rocky wall we can catch the cheers of tell; and the voice of cromwell can often be distinguished in the strain. there is also the sweep of the winds through the pine woods, and the mountain blasts of new england, and the strong, fresh breath of the salt sea; all tonic influences, in short, which braced up the minds of the men of those days to a fixed and heroic purpose, from which they never receded until their end was achieved. it has become the fashion in these days of dilettanteism to say that earnestness and moral purpose have no place in poetry, and small critics have arisen who claim that mr. whittier has been spoiled as a poet by his moral teachings. to these critics it is only necessary to point to the estimation in which mr. whittier's poetry is held by the world, and to the daily widening of his popularity among scholars and men of letters, as well as among the people, to teach them that this ruined poetry is likely to live when all the merely pretty poetry they so much admire is forgotten forever. the small poets who are afraid of touching a moral question for fear of ruining their poems would do well to compare poe, who is the leader of their school and its best exponent, with mr. whittier, and to ask themselves which is the more likely to survive the test of time. let them also ponder the words of principal shairp, one of the finest critics of the day, when he says of the true mission of the poet, that "it is to awaken men to the divine side of things; to bear witness to the beauty that clothes the outer world, the nobility that lies hid, often obscured, in human souls; to call forth sympathy for neglected truths, for noble and oppressed persons, for down-trodden causes; and to make men feel that through all outward beauty and all pure inward affection god himself is addressing them." they would do well also to ponder the words of ruskin, who believes that only in as far as it has a distinct moral purpose is a literary work of value to the world. albert h. sanford. professor albert h. sanford, of the la crosse state normal school, is best known as an author of text books and pamphlets on history and related subjects. but he is, like all the other school men whose works are represented here, interested in other fields besides his specialty. born in the southwestern part of wisconsin, he naturally became interested in farming, and in the development of agriculture in the agricultural section. from this interest and his natural bent toward anything historical grew his desire to picture briefly and attractively the development of this most important industry of our country from its early beginnings in colonial times to the present day. his book is filled with narratives and expositions which will hold the interest of any boy or girl who likes to read stories of adventure or trial, of hardship, and of final success. the most noteworthy feature of professor sanford's style is clarity, coupled with logical sequence and organization. the brief selection here given illustrates these qualities, and represents very fairly the remainder of the book. the story of agriculture in the united states copyright, , by d. c. heath & co. from chapter x. when farms were scattered, life became lonely and monotonous; the people therefore took advantage of every possible occasion to have social gatherings. house raisings and log-rollings gave opportunity for such meetings. the women met in sewing and quilting bees and apple-parings; the men came for the evening meal and remained for the country dance. the husking-bee was the most exciting of these events. the long pile of corn was divided equally between two leaders, who first "chose sides" for the contest. then the men fell to the work with a will, each side determined to finish its portion first. sometimes the rivalry ran into rough play and even fighting; but the spirit of good nature prevailed at the supper that had been prepared by the women in the meantime. to these "frolics" were added, in later years, the spelling matches and singing schools, attended by both old and young. the coming of the backwoods "circuit rider" to hold a religious service in some log cabin or in the schoolhouse was an event of importance. the summer "camp meetings" were attended by hundreds of families, and here a chance was given for those who had forgotten the ways of civilized life in the midst of the rough frontier conditions to be "converted" and to return to better ways. the preaching, singing, and praying were all done by main strength, both of voice and of muscle. the frontier farmer boy had no lack of occupation. he split the kindling and the wood for the fire-place and gathered the chips used for lighting the cabin when tallow dips were scarce. he fed and drove the cows, but let his sister do the milking. he took part in the work of washing and shearing the sheep. he helped in churning and soap-making, and ran the melted tallow into the tin candle-molds. he looked forward to butchering day as to a celebration. in the fall he chopped the sausage meat and the various ingredients of mince pies. on stormy days and winter evenings he might help his mother clean and card the wool, wind the yarn, and hetchel flax. later she might call upon him for help in dyeing the homespun and bleaching the linen. the boy was useful to his father when he searched the woods for good trees from which special articles were to be made, such as ax-helves and ox-yokes. from hickory saplings he could make splint brooms and cut out the splints used in making chair bottoms and baskets. he guarded the corn fields from squirrels and crows and set traps for wolves. he went on horse-back to the grist mill, which was generally some miles away, and waited there for his turn to have his sack of corn ground into meal. along with these duties were some pleasures, such as going nutting and berrying and hunting for grapes. bee-hunting gave its rich reward in the hollow trunk full of honey. "sugaring off" twice in the spring was a special time of delight, though it brought its tasks in the making of wooden spouts, the carrying of buckets of sap and water, and the tending of fires. charles d. stewart charles d. stewart was born at zanesville, ohio, in , and came with his people to wisconsin when but a young boy. he received his elementary education in the public schools of milwaukee, after which he attended wayland academy at beaver dam. like many others of our authors, mr. stewart has had considerable connection with newspapers, but it is as an author of stories, poems, and critical articles, both in magazines and in published volumes, that he is best known. perhaps the readers of this book are already familiar with his "the fugitive blacksmith," "partners of providence," "essays on the spot," "the wrong woman," etc. he is now executive clerk in governor philipp's office. mr. stewart is an author with whom the reader frequently finds himself in disagreement. this is particularly true of his critical work, which has itself received severe criticism at the hands of some other critics, while in the opinion of still others mr. stewart has made distinct contributions to the field of english criticism, particularly with respect to shakespeare. his style is rich and at times diffuse. he has a wealth of illustrative material at hand, and one might be inclined to say that at times mr. stewart allows himself to stray too far from his main theme in drawing upon these resources. on the other hand, the reader is constantly interested and frequently challenged, so that his intelligence is always brought into play in reading this author's work; and it is well to remember, as ruskin says, that if we never read anything with which we disagreed we should never grow. it is the author who makes us think who does us the greatest service. the selection here given is from "on a moraine." it illustrates all the points of which we have spoken. to the editors it appeals as a piece of useful, patriotic wisconsin literature. the whole article will well repay reading for anyone who loves the badger state and wishes to know it better. it shows a keen appreciation of the beautiful, and ready imagination in making comparisons where one least expects to find them, as in the suggestion of likeness between the freshly exposed surfaces of a newly split rock, on the one hand, and the wings of a moth on the other. the article also well illustrates the treatment of a somewhat technical and supposedly dry subject in a delightful and imaginative manner. on a moraine upon the shoulder of a terminal moraine was a barley-field whose fence was to furnish me with stone; and i prospected its beauties with a six-pound sledge. "hardheads" many of them [the stones] were called, and they let fly enough sparks that summer to light the fire for a thousand years. they were igneous rocks, and they responded in terms of fire. such rocks! rag-carpets woven in garnet and topaz; petrified oriental rugs; granites in endless designs of scotch mixture, as if each bowlder were wearing the plaid of its clan; big, uncouth, scabiose, ignorant-looking hardheads that opened with a heart of rose,--each one a separate album opening to a sample from a different quarry. i have seen cloven field-stone that deserved a hinge and a gold clasp; i have one in sight now which is such a delicate contrast of faintest rose and mere spiritual green that it is like the first blush of dawn. imagine smiting a rock until the fragments sting you in the face, and then seeing it calmly unfold the two wings of a moth! i have broken into a rock which pleased me so well that i held it in mind in order to match it; but though i had the pick of a hundred and sixty loads that summer i never found another. there is "individuality" for you. some of them are "niggerheads." these are the hardest rock known to practical experience. there are those that have refused to succumb to the strongest hitters in the country. some of them will break and others will not; the only way is to try. fortunately i had had some early training as a blacksmith; but this was as if the smith were trying to break his anvil. i have seen the steel face of a hammer chip off without making a mark on one. and yet the glaciers wore them off to make soil and left them rounded like big pebbles! i never realized what ground is, till i became acquainted with the stones that did the grinding. my fence was eight to ten feet in thickness and shoulder high; and similar windrows of rock ran over the moraine in all directions, like a range upon a range. it is, of course, valuable land that warrants a wall like that. the barley-field might easily have defied a siege-gun on all four sides, for it had had so many bowlders on it that they had been built up into more of a rampart than a windrow. on a near-by field from which the timber had been removed, but which, notwithstanding, was far from "cleared," it looked as if it had hailed bowlders. you could have forded your way across it without putting a foot to ground. i have seen places where the glaciers had deposited rocks in surprising uniformity of size, and as thick as the heads of an audience (a comparison that means no harm, i trust). because of my encounters with "niggerheads," and other layerless or massive rock, i had difficulty in getting a handle which would not give out. not that i broke them with mislicks, but the sudden bounce of the steel jolts the grain of the wood apart, and then a split begins to work its way up the handle. after this happens a man will not try to crack many bowlders, for the split hickory vibrates in a way that hurts. that sudden sting and numbing of the arm is the only sensation i ever came across that resembles the sting of a texas scorpion; and that is an injection of liquid lighting that suffuses the membranes from hand to shoulder, and dwells a while and fades away. i might say here that the sting of the dreaded scorpion is harmless, like that of the tarantula, as any one with a few experiences knows. a wrong-headed bowlder that has kept itself intact for ages and spits fire at you, and then takes measures to protect itself, is far more dangerous. one of them shot off a piece with such force that it went through my clothing and made a respectable wound. this, however, is just what is needed to rouse you up and make you hit back; and when you have had success with this one you are sure to pass on to another. there is an enticement in their secret, locked-up beauty that lures you on from rock to rock till nightfall. thus you are kept at it, till some day you find you have become a slave of the exercise habit; you are addicted to sunshine and sweat and cool spring water; your nose, so long a disadvantage to you, comes to life and discovers so many varieties of fresh air that every breath has a different flavor to it. as for myself, i rather prefer to take wild plum or clover in my atmosphere--or a good whiff of must off the barley-field. along in july it is excellent to work somewhere in the jurisdiction of a basswood tree. compare this with the office-building or the street-car, where the only obtainable breath is second-hand. nobody could now coax you back to where people have eyes that see not, tongues that taste not, and noses that smell not unless they have to. i _have_ experienced smells in a city that would make a baby cry.... and this reminds me to conclude--where possibly i should have begun--with the remarkable pedigree of the state itself. stretching across canada, north of the st. lawrence, and ending in the regions about the source of the mississippi, is a range of low granite hills called the laurentian highlands. these hills are really mountains that are almost worn out, for they are the oldest land in america, and, according to agassiz, the oldest in the world. in the days when there was nothing but water on the face of the globe, these mountains came up--a long island of primitive rock with universal ocean chafing against its shores. none of the other continents had put in their appearance at the time america was thus looking up. the united states began to come to light by the gradual uplifting of this land to the north and the appearance of the tops of the alleghanies, which were the next in order. later, the rockies started up. the united states grew southward from wisconsin and westward from blue ridge. an early view of the country would have shown a large island which is now northern wisconsin, and a long, thin tongue of this primitive rock sticking down from canada into minnesota, and these two growing states looking out over the waters at the mere beginnings of mountain-ranges east and west. they were waiting for the rest of the united states to appear. as the heated interior of the earth continued to cool and contract, and the water-covered crust sank in some places, and kept bulging up higher in others, the island of northern wisconsin continued to grow, and the alleghanies came up with quite a strip of territory at their base. the western mountains made no progress whatever; it was as if they had some doubt about the matter. a view at another stage of progress would have shown wisconsin and minnesota entirely out, and pulling up with them the edges of adjoining states, and a strip along the atlantic about half as wide as new york or pennsylvania. still no united states. there was water between these two sections and some islands scattered about in the south. the western mountains had not been progressing at all; they lagged behind for aeons. these two sections, beginning with wisconsin and minnesota in the west and the alleghanies in the east, kept reaching out till they made continuous land; and thus ohio and all those states between are some ages younger. but they are much older than the west; for at a time when the whole eastern half of the continent had long appeared, the gulf stream was flowing across the west, and the waters were depositing the small sea-shells which make the calcareous matter under kansas loam. all that country is much younger, and the western mountains are as big as they are simply because they have not had time to become worn down. as to florida, it was a mere afterthought, an addition built on by coral insects. the whole story of those east-central and southern states--how pennsylvania and ohio and illinois got their coal, and michigan her salt--would make a lengthy narrative; i have mentioned just enough to show the age of wisconsin and the still greater age of some of that glacial matter that came down from the direction of the laurentian highlands. it is the oldest land in the world; and the other states, i am sure, will not resent my taking out the state's pedigree and showing it. wisconsin took part with the east in what geologists call the appalachian revolution,--is a veritable daughter of the revolution. i mention it merely because i think it greatly to the credit of a dairy state that, at a time so early in the world's morning, she was up and doing. elliott flower elliott flower is another of wisconsin's writers who came into the field of literature through newspaper work. he was born at madison in , and after receiving a common school education there, he went to phillips academy at massachusetts. he was editor of the rambler in and , and after that he was for some years engaged in editorial work on chicago papers. since , however, most of his work has been of a purely literary nature, and his residence has been in madison for some time. he is the author of "policeman flynn," "the spoilsman," "nurse norah," "delightful dog," and other books. the story from which we quote is "the impractical man." it is fairly representative of a considerable portion of his work. it shows a keen sense of humor, a skillful handling of conversation, and considerable knowledge of human nature. our selection embraces the first and last portions of the story. between these selections many experiences fall to the lot of the "impractical man." there is an adventure in the woods, in which the men are lost, and there are many laughable experiences in a canoe. in this story, as is frequently the case in mr. flower's work, the unexpected happens, and the character whom the reader has been inclined to pity because of his inability to take care of himself suddenly proves to be shrewd enough to outwit those with whom he is dealing. the impractical man from the century magazine, vol. , p. . "i am sorry to inform you," said shackelford, the lawyer, "that you have been to some trouble and expense to secure a bit of worthless paper. this--" and he held up the document he had been examining--"is about as valuable as a copy of last week's newspaper." it is possible that shackelford really regretted the necessity of conveying this unpleasant information to peter j. connorton, cyrus talbot, and samuel d. peyton; but, if so, his looks belied him, for he smiled very much as if he found something gratifying in the situation. connorton was the first to recover from the shock. "then it's a swindle!" he declared hotly. "we'll get that fellow hartley! he's a crook! we'll make him--" "oh, no," interrupted shackelford, quietly, "it's no swindle. according to your own story, you prepared the paper yourself and paid him for his signature to it." "we paid him twenty-five thousand dollars for his patent," asserted connorton. "but you didn't get the patent," returned shackelford. "he has assigned to you, for a consideration of twenty-five thousand dollars, all his rights, title, and interest in something or other, but the assignment doesn't clearly show what. there are a thousand things that it might be, but nothing that it definitely and positively _is_. very likely he doesn't know this, but very likely somebody will tell him. anyhow, you've got to clear an unquestioned title before you can do anything with the patent without danger of unpleasant consequences." deeper gloom settled upon the faces of the three, and especially upon the face of connorton, who was primarily responsible for their present predicament. "what would you advise?" asked connorton at last. "well," returned the lawyer, after a moment of thought, "you'd better find him. as near as i can make out, he had no thought of tricking you." "oh, no, i don't believe he had," confessed connorton. "i spoke hastily when i charged that. he's too impractical for anything of the sort." "much too impractical, i should say," added talbot, and peyton nodded approval. "in that case," pursued the lawyer, "you can still clinch the deal easily and quickly--if you get to him first. i see nothing particularly disturbing in the situation, except the possibility that somebody who _is_ practical may get hold of him before you do, or that he may learn in some other way of the value of his invention. do you know where he is?" "no," answered connorton. "that's the trouble." "not so troublesome as it might be," returned the lawyer. "he is not trying to hide, if we are correct in our surmise, and his eccentricities of dress and deportment would attract attention to him anywhere. i have a young man here in the office who will get track of him in no time, if you have nothing better to suggest." they had nothing better to suggest, so byron paulson was called in, given a description of ira hartley, together with such information as to his associates and haunts as it was possible to give, and sent in quest of news of him. "meanwhile," observed the lawyer, "i'll prepare something for his signature, when we find him, that will have no loopholes in it." * * * * * connorton and paulson had no difficulty in securing permission to talk with hartley, and they approached with considerable confidence the cell in which he was detained. it had occurred to them, upon reflection, that they were now in a most advantageous position in the matter of their business relations with the inventor. he was friendless in a strange city. he was believed to be of unsound mind, and his actions had been erratic enough to give color to that belief. he could hardly hope to secure his release without their help, and if so, they could impose their own terms before extending that help. to their surprise, they found him quite cheerful and apparently indifferent or blind to the seriousness of his predicament. "hullo, connorton!" he cried, when he saw them approaching. "any other proposition to make now?" "why, no, certainly not," replied connorton. "we came to see about you." "awfully good of you," laughed hartley. "how you do love me, connorton!" connorton's face reddened, but he ignored the thrust. "you've got yourself in a nice fix, hartley," he remarked. "oh, it's of no consequence," exclaimed paulson. "not to me," asserted hartley. "it may be to you, of course." the impractical man appeared to be able to take a very practical view of some matters, and connorton was the more perturbed and uneasy in consequence. "they say you're crazy," suggested connorton. "and i guess they can prove it, too," rejoined hartley, cheerfully. "you've said the same thing yourself, and i know you wouldn't lie about a mere trifle like that. then, the conductor, the engineer, and the fireman of the train we came down on will swear to it ... not to mention the cooper, the hotel clerk, a few bell-boys, and the policeman who arrested me. yes, i guess i'm crazy, connorton. too bad, isn't it?" "it's likely to be bad for you," said connorton. "oh, no," returned hartley, easily, "i'm not violent, you know, just mentally defective; unable to transact business, as you might say. they'll find that out and let me go; but there will be the taint, the suspicion, the doubt. very likely a conservator will be appointed when i get back home--some shrewd, sharp fellow, with a practical mind." such a very impractical man was the inventor, and so very troublesome in his impracticality! connorton could only begin at the beginning again, and go slow. "suppose we get you out," he ventured, "what would you be willing to do?" "what would you be willing to do?" retorted hartley. "what do you mean by that?" demanded connorton. "i'm sure i don't know," replied hartley, with an air of the utmost frankness. "i seldom mean anything, of course, and it is such a lot of trouble to find out what i do mean when i mean anything that i usually give it up. but you are so deeply interested in me--so much more interested in me than i am in myself--that i thought you might want to keep me sane; that you might not like to feel that you had driven me crazy." paulson was about to interrupt, but connorton motioned to him to be silent. connorton was in the habit of handling his own business matters, and he wanted his lawyer to speak only when a legal proposition was put directly up to him. it may be admitted that he was sorely perplexed now; but he found nothing in the inventor's face but a bland smile, and he did not think paulson could help him to interpret that. "hartley," he said at last, "i'll get you out of here and add five thousand to what you've already had the moment that patent is properly transferred to me." "connorton," returned the inventor, "i believe i'm crazy. when i think of the events of the last few days--of your more than brotherly interest in me, which i have pleasurably exploited during our delightful association--i believe i am crazy enough to say, come again!" connorton drew a long breath and conceded another point. "hartley," he proposed, "you may keep the money i have already given you--" "thank you," said hartley; "i shall." "--and you may also have a quarter interest in the patent," concluded connorton. "it's all mine now," suggested hartley. "if so," argued connorton, who well knew that much of the money had been spent, "you owe me twenty-five thousand dollars." "if so," returned hartley, the impractical man, "i infer from your anxiety and extraordinary generosity that i can sell it for enough to pay you and make a little margin for myself. besides, you can't collect from a crazy man, connorton; and i'm getting crazier every minute. business always goes to my head, connorton. you must have noticed that up in the woods. i'm really becoming alarmed about myself. but perhaps, you'd rather do business with a conservator, connorton." "a half interest," urged connorton, desperately, as he mentally reviewed the weakness of his own position in view of the unsuspected perspicacity of the inventor. "consider that i have paid you twenty-five thousand dollars for a half interest, and the other half is yours. i'll defray whatever expense is incurred in marketing the invention, too." hartley reflected, seeming in doubt. "connorton," he said at last, "i think i am still getting the worst of it somewhere, but an impractical fellow like me deserves to get the worst of it. go ahead! have that agreement put in legal form, and then you may get me out while there is yet time to save my reason." * * * * * connorton had finished his appeal for the release of hartley. "of course," he was told, "if you and mr. paulson will assume the responsibility and will immediately take him away, we shall be glad to let you have him; but he is undoubtedly demented." "demented!" snorted connorton. "say! you try to do business with him, and you'll think he's the sanest man that ever lived!" jenkin lloyd jones. jenkin lloyd jones is one of the best-known wisconsin ministers. we say "wisconsin," for, though he is now a resident of chicago, his parents moved from south wales to wisconsin in when jenkin lloyd jones was an infant. during his boyhood he worked on the home farm; then in he enlisted, and served for three years in the sixth wisconsin battery in the civil war. he is a graduate of the meadville, pennsylvania, theological seminary of the class of . he holds an honorary degree of ll. d. granted by the university of wisconsin in . he was pastor of all souls church, janesville, from to . he established, with others, "unity," a weekly paper, now organ of the congress of religion, and has been its editor since . he organized all souls church in chicago, and has been its pastor since . he is the author of almost countless pamphlets and several books, among the latter being "love and loyalty," "what does christmas really mean," "on the firing line in the battle for sobriety," and his creative instinct has shown itself in the organization of many societies and institutions for the uplift of mankind. nuggets from a welsh mine copyrighted by olive e. weston, . the home (page ). love is the only safe and justifiable basis for a home. all bibles, as well as all stories, all philosophy and all experience assert this. go to housekeeping, and, if possible, to house-building. do not be outdone by the beaver. do not sink lower than the bird, who builds its own nest, making it strong without and beautiful within. that home alone is home where love generates generous impulses, noble purposes. true love will breed heavenly plans, nurse world-redeeming schemes, and enlist all the forces of earth in the interests of heaven. there is no home where there is no common toil. the world is the larger home. the child must early learn to feel its dependence on and its obligation to this larger home circle if it is to grow noble. there are no furnishings to a house that really convert it into a home, which have not won their places, one by one, in the heart and brain of the housewife. civilization rests, not primarily on the court-house, or the college, or the public school building, or the post-office, or the railway station, or yet in the club, but in the home. the trouble with our young people is not that they are too poor in material things to make for themselves a home, but that they are too poor in spiritual things to confess the poverty which might enable them to lay the foundations of a home, humble but altogether holy.... the beautiful heron, mad with a maternal love, blind to all dangers from without, bent only on protecting her brood, giving her life to her little ones, was killed by the woman who wears the graceful aigrette--that marvel of nature's embroidery woven for a nuptial robe to the gracious bird. she, and none other, is responsible for that life, for it was for her sake that the bloody deed was done. the school (page ). the highest task that life holds for men and women is the choosing of an ideal to grow toward. it should be sufficiently far away to require a whole lifetime to pursue it. it has taken a hundred years of agony and study to prove even in advanced america a man's right to his own body; a woman's right to her old soul; and the child's right to the development of his mind as of his muscle. i plead for the true perspective in the training of your children. i believe, of course, in good bodies, comfortable and beautiful clothing, generous houses, and all the learning of the schools; i believe in intellectual joy and all the powers of thought, but only when they are subordinated to high affections and strong wills. there is a power at work in the world that estimates gifts, not by the amount, but by the purpose that dictated them. the kindergarten contains the seed of the gospel for children in its terminology when it seeks to develop the child by its "occupations."... work (page ). there can be no development, mental, spiritual, or physical, except by exercise. through labor we became creators, co-workers with god. labor can be transfigured into a habit. in the scales of the universe, a day's work will always weigh more than the dollar that pays for that day's work. the tradesman who strives to know all about his own business and cares but little about any other, will not have much business of his own to absorb his attention after a while. blessed word is that,--"occupation." the new education is bound up in it. the health of the child is contained in it. the safety of the saint is represented by it, and the progress of humanity is dependent upon it. when labor becomes the pride of the laborer, then he becomes fit object for the envy of kings. the most disordered explosions of pent-up passions and unreleased power follow in the wake of enforced idleness. there is no release from toil, and the only escape from the burdens of labor must come, not by its cessation, but by its glorification. there is an overwork that is killing, but the danger from work, any work, all work, is trifling compared to the greater dangers of indolence. there is always a large physical element in distances. it is always farther from the breakfast table to the field than it is from the field to the dinner table. when the wheels of life bear me down for the last time, i ask for no higher compliment, i seek no truer statement of the work i have tried to do, than that which the white-headed old negress gave the beardless boy on the hot corinth cornfield in . then, if i deserve it, let some one who loves me say, "here is a linkum soldier who has done got run over," one who, like his leader, tried to "pluck a thistle and plant a flower wherever a flower would grow." everett mcneil. mother's wolf story by everett mcneil, for many years a resident of stoughton, wis., now living in new york. taken from st. nicholas, vol. xxx, p. . copyright by the century co. (for many years a resident of stoughton; now living in new york. author of the cave of gold, in texas with davy crockett, the totem of black hawk, fighting with fremont, the boy forty-niners, etc.) when i was a boy there was one story which my sisters and brothers and i were never tired of hearing mother tell; for our own mother was its heroine and the scene of the thrilling chase was not more than a mile and a half from our own door. indeed, we often went coasting on the very hill down which she took her fearful ride, and skated on the pond which was the scene of her adventure. i can still distinctly remember how, when the long winter evenings came and the snow lay deep on the ground and the wind whistled stormily without, we children would gather around the great sheet-iron stove in the sitting-room of the old farm-house and beg mother to tell us stories of the perils and hardships of her pioneer days; and how, invariably, before the evening was over some one of us would ask: "now, mother, please do tell us, just once more, how you escaped from the wolves, when a girl, by coasting down peek's hill." mother would pause in her knitting, and, with a smile, declare that she had already told us the story "forty-eleven times"; but, just to please so attentive an audience, she would tell it even once more. then, while we children crowded closer around her chair, she would resume her knitting and begin: "when your grandfather settled in this part of wisconsin i was a little girl thirteen years old. we moved into the log house father had prepared for us early in the spring, and by fall we had things fixed quite comfortable. the winter which followed was one of unusual severity. the snow fell, early in november, to the depth of three feet on the level; and the greater part of it remained on the ground all winter. this, of course, made grand coasting. father made for me a sled with strong, hard, smooth hickory runners, and big enough for two to ride on. i declare, i don't believe there ever was such another sled for speed"; and mother's eyes would sparkle at the memories the thought of her faithful sled recalled. "at this time the country was very thinly populated. our nearest neighbor was abner jones, who lived some three miles away, over on the other side of peek's hill. abner jones had a little girl, named amanda, about my own age, and we two children soon became great chums. after a big snow-storm, amanda and i would go coasting on peek's hill whenever we could gain the permission of our parents. she would come over to my house, or i would go over to her house, and together we would go to the hill. amanda had no sled; but we could both ride down on my sled, and then take turns pulling it up the hill. "the first week in january there was a two-days' thaw, followed by a sharp freeze. this caused a thick, icy crust to form on top of the remaining snow, which, by the next day, became so hard and strong that it would bear the weight of a man. the water from the melted snow ran into the hollow at the foot of peek's hill, and made a large, deep pond, which was soon covered over with a sheet of gleaming ice. so, you see, peek's hill had become an ideal coasting-place; for we could slide down its steep side at lightning speed, and out upon the ice, and even clear across the pond, a good three-quarters of a mile from the top of the hill. "on one saturday afternoon following a thaw and a freeze-up, i secured the permission of my parents to go over to amanda's and get her to come sliding with me down the hill. father cautioned me to be sure and be home early, because the wolves, which at that time infested all this section of the country, were said to be getting very bold and fierce, especially at night time; and they had been known, when driven by hunger, to run down and kill horses and cattle and even human beings. doubtless the cold and the deep snow had forced many southward from the great woods in the northern part of the state. but the caution fell on idle ears. i considered all wolves cowards; besides, i was not going to hunt wolves; i was bent upon coasting down-hill; and i did not believe any wolf would be foolish enough to take the trouble to run down a little girl when there were plenty of chickens and cattle to be had. "i bundled up warmly, and, drawing my sled behind me, started 'cross lots over peek's hill to amanda's house. peek's hill stood about half-way between our two homes. i left the heavy sled at the top of the hill to wait our return. when i reached the house i found amanda laid up with a bad cold, and of course her mother would not allow her to go coasting; so i took off my things to stay in the house and play with her. amanda had two rubber dolls, and we had such a jolly time playing with them that i did not notice how fast the time was passing until mrs. jones said, 'come, my dear; it is time you were going!' then she helped to bundle me up, gave me a doughnut hot from the kettle, and saw me safely started on my way home. "the sun was nearing the western horizon. i glanced at it and hurried on. the first part of my way lay through heavy woods; then came an opening, in the midst of which rose peek's hill. the brow of the hill was perhaps forty rods from the edge of the woods, the steep incline down which we coasted being on the opposite side. there was no road, only a path worn through the snow by our neighborly feet. "i had passed about half-way through the woods, when suddenly a great shaggy wolf bounded out into the path in front of me. the wolf stopped and glared hungrily at me for a moment, then dashed away into the brush. a moment after, i heard him howling a few rods in the rear. to my inexpressible horror, the howl was quickly answered by another, and then another, and still another, until to my terrified ears the woods seemed full of the ferocious beasts. "there was no need of telling me what this meant. i was old enough and familiar enough with wolf-nature to know that the first wolf was calling to his mates to come and help him run down and kill his quarry. "for a moment i stood still in my tracks, listening in trembling horror to the hideous howlings; then i gathered myself together and ran. fear lent me wings. my feet seemed hardly to touch the snow. and yet it was but a minute before i heard the rapid pit-pat of the feet of the wolves on the hard crust of the snow behind me, and knew that they were drawing near. i reached the edge of the woods; and, as i dashed into the opening, i cast a hurried glance to the rear. several great, gaunt wolves, running neck and neck, were not five rods behind me. they ran with their heads outstretched, making great bounds over the hard snow. "at that time i was tall for my age, and could run like a deer. the sight of the wolves, so close behind me, caused me to redouble my efforts; but, in spite of my speed, as i reached the brow of the hill, i could hear their panting breaths, so near had they come. with a quick movement of my hands i threw off my heavy cloth cape and woolen hood. at the same instant my eyes caught sight of the sled, which i had left at the top of the hill. fortunately it was standing facing the steep incline. if i could reach it before the wolves caught me, possibly i might yet escape! my hood and cape delayed the animals for an instant; but they were again upon me just as i, without slacking my speed in the least, caught the sled up into my hands and threw myself upon it. "i think the sudden change in my position, just as they were about to spring on me, must have disconcerted the wolves for an instant; and before they recovered i was sliding down the hill. the wolves came tumbling and leaping after me, howling and snarling. at the start, the hill was very steep, and the frozen snow was as smooth and as slippery as ice. the sled kept going faster and faster, and soon i had the inexpressible delight of seeing that i was beginning to leave the wolves behind. far below i saw the gleaming ice on the pond. about half-way down the hill the incline was considerably less steep, becoming nearly level just before reaching the pond. when i came to this part of the hill i again glanced behind, and, to my horror, saw that the wolves had begun to gain on me, and were now not more than two rods away. evidently the sled was slowing up. there was nothing i could do to quicken its motion. my fate seemed certain. at last the sled reached the pond, and, while still but a few feet from the bank, i suddenly felt the ice bend and crack beneath me; but either my speed was too rapid or my weight too light, or both, for i did not break through, but sped swiftly on to stronger ice and to safety. for a moment the slippery ice delayed the wolves, then they came on swifter than ever, their sharp claws scratching the ice like knives. finally i heard a crash, and glancing back, i saw a struggling jumble of heads and paws, and i knew in a moment that the combined weight of the wolves had broken through the ice at the weak place that had cracked as i passed over it. "i left the sled at the margin of the pond, and hurried home, where, girl-like, i fell fainting into my mother's arms. "there, children; that is how your mother escaped from the wolves by coasting down peek's hill; and that great wolfskin robe in the corner is one of the very hides that father took from the six bodies after he had dragged them out of the pond the next morning"; and mother, with a flush on her dear face, would point to the familiar wolfskin robe. then we children would bring the great robe from its place, spread it out on the floor before the fire, and, seating ourselves upon it, talk in low voices of the terrible ride our dear mother took down peek's hill when she was a girl and was chased by the wolves. the university group the selections here placed together under the head, "the university group," are taken from the works of authors who have taught or who are now teaching in the university of wisconsin, and who may, therefore, be said both to have influenced it in its ideals and to have been influenced by it. the work of the editors in this section of the volume has been at once peculiarly pleasant and difficult. it has been pleasant because, under the shadow of wisconsin's greatest institution of learning, there has come into birth a large body of interesting, instructive, and thoroughly worth-while literary material. the task has been difficult because the line between technical and special material treated in a literary way, and what may be styled pure literature, is very hard to draw. the editors realize thoroughly their fallibility in the making of these selections. so many books have been written, and so many contributions to both popular and technical magazines have been made by teachers in the university, that it is a physical impossibility even to scan them with any sure result of fairness or equity in the selection of real literature from the great mass that has been produced. the most that is claimed for the present selections is that at least they are thoroughly worth-while. no doubt a search covering sufficient time and dealing with a sufficiently large portion of the output of the university would reveal other works and other men worthy of representation in this volume. there is another consideration that should be mentioned as rendering the task of the present editors peculiarly difficult: all but one of the men whose works are mentioned here are now living. aside from the impossibility of wholly pleasing any man by a selection from or a criticism of his work, there is the inevitable fact that since most of these men are young, their actual relative standing as producers of literature is constantly and rapidly changing. as one reads the selections in the following pages, he is impressed most of all by the spirit of buoyancy and youth that pervades them. scarcely a single selection here, even those by the older men, bears the imprint of satiety or completion. all are pulsing with life, hopefulness, buoyancy, and promise. again, in a book of this nature, selections must necessarily be brief. it is not possible to give really adequate representation to any one of these men, since the laws of space are inexorable. perhaps the one thing common to all sections in this group--the thing which will most readily and profoundly impress even the youngest reader--is a feeling of breadth of experience, wide observation, earnest, keen, and insatiable desire for truth,--in fact, all the opposites of narrowness, prejudice, provincialism. one feels at once that the writers here have read widely and well, that they have a fund of facts gained both from books and at first hand through travel and observation, and that their emotions and their judgments spring from this well of truth as they see it. president van hise charles richard van hise needs no introduction to wisconsin readers, nor indeed to readers in any part of america. he is a man whom our state may proudly call her own. he was born in fulton in , took his bachelor's degree in mechanical engineering at his own state university in and his ph. d. there in , and throughout his whole life, since receiving his first degree, he has been in the faculty of his own alma mater. in he was made its president, which position he now holds. he is recognized by all as the peer of any man in our country as an authority on geology. his face, through photographs appearing from time to time in public prints, is familiar to us all: while in madison, and indeed in most cities of the state, his slightly bent figure, with the face peering forward as though seeking some new truth, would be readily recognized by any schoolboy. when at madison one of his favorite diversions is riding horseback, and no doubt in many of his geological trips horses have been his most dependable friends. needless to say, his interests are wide and varied. nothing that affects the welfare of his country and its people is outside the field of his attention. through his membership in many learned societies and his connection with various educational bodies and institutions he wields an influence for the spirit of truth and enlightenment second to almost none in the united states. we quote here a brief passage from his writings to indicate something of the range of interests the mind and heart of wisconsin's most active citizen find time in which to interest themselves. while president van hise's interests are not primarily literary, any man of fine sensibilities and intelligence, placed as he is, at the center of momentous events, is bound to have a message of vital import; and any such message, clearly and suitably delivered, is literature. the future of man in america by charles r. van hise, published in the world's work, vol. xviii, p. . ... it is clear that the problem of the conservation of our natural resources is an interlocking one. if the forests are conserved in the rough lands and mountains, the streams will have an even flow, their navigability will be easily maintained, they will give a uniform water-power; the erosion of the soil will be lessened; the bottom lands along the stream will not be flooded. if the water-powers are developed, the consumption of coal will be lessened. if the elements which are changed from ore to metals are carefully saved--not being allowed to rust or to be lost--and thus utilized again and again, it will not be necessary to take from the mines so large an amount of ore, and thus less coal and power will be required for their extraction. the conservation of one resource assists in the conservation of all others. we should work with the agents of the earth rather than reverse their work, as we have been doing since american settlement began. intimately connected with the conservation of the natural resources is the conservation of humanity itself. just as we have been reckless in the use of our natural resources, so as a nation have we been reckless of human life. we now know enough in reference to the prevention and cure of communicable diseases, we know enough in reference to improving the conditions under which the industries are carried on, so that, according to professor irving fisher, the average human life might be lengthened by a third. so far as we permit human beings to be created, it is plainly our duty to conserve them and, so far as possible, produce a happy environment for them. this great problem of the conservation of humanity is mentioned merely to put it in relation with the problems of the conservation of our natural resources, rather than to discuss it. how long shall this nation endure? or, more exactly, how long shall human beings occupy this land? it is only within the past two centuries that the lands of the country have been subject to agriculture upon an extensive scale, and the main drafts upon the soil of this country have been within the last century. we should think, not of a hundred years, or of a thousand years, but of hundreds of thousands, or of millions of years of development of the human race. there is no reason, from a geological point of view, why human beings may not live upon this earth for millions of years to come, perhaps many millions of years, and, so far as we are concerned, such periods are practically infinite. these considerations impose upon us as our most fundamental duty the transmission of the heritage of our natural resources to our descendants as nearly intact as possible. this is an individual responsibility, as well as a state and a national responsibility. there's a strongly developed opinion at the present time that the owners of great wealth, and especially those who control great natural resources, should act as trustees for the nation. this is easy to see; but every man who owns a farm is equally a trustee to the nation for his small property. if at the end of his life the farm goes to his son depleted in richness, he is as truly faithless to his trust as are the great interests, some of which think only of present gain, and wastefully exploit the natural resources of the country. each in proportion to his own responsibility is a traitor to the nation. at the present time, fortunately, this sense of stewardship is gaining possession of those who control some of the great resources of the nation. as yet, there is scarcely a glimmering of responsibility in the case of the smaller holder of natural resources. but the future of the nation is safe only when small and large holder alike, from the man who owns forty acres of land to the groups of men who control the anthracite of the nation, shall administer their trust primarily for the benefit of the people now living and for succeeding generations rather than for themselves. i do not hesitate to assert that, from the point of view of our descendants, this question of conservation of our natural resources is more important than any political or social question, indeed, more important than all political or social questions upon the solution of which we are now engaged. not only is it more important, but it is more pressing, for already our unnecessary losses are irremediable, and the situation is growing steadily worse. it is necessary that a great campaign of education be inaugurated at once with reference to the conservation of the soil, just as there has been a campaign of education with reference to the conservation of the forests. the task is an enormous one, indeed vastly greater than that carried on with reference to our other resources, because of the fact that the land holdings are so subdivided; but the campaign of education must be carried on, and, as a part of it, the laws must be developed, until we reach the situation where no man dares so to handle his land as to decrease its fertility. if present methods are allowed to continue, it is certain that in the not distant future this country will be able to support only a relatively sparse population. only by the conservation of our soil, undiminished in its fertility, can we hope to be able to provide for the hundreds of millions of people who, in the near future in the united states, will be demanding food and clothing. the conservation of the soil is the conservation of the basal asset of the nation. similarly, the campaign of education in reference to the forests must be continued, and that with reference to the coal and mineral resources inaugurated; for only second in importance to the conservation of the soil is the economic mining and use of coal, the conservation of the forests, and the use of metals with the minimum waste. dean birge edward asahel birge was born in troy, new york, in . he received his collegiate training at williams and harvard and was made instructor in natural history at the university of wisconsin in , professor in , and dean of the college of letters and science in , which position he has held down to the present time, except for three years when he served as acting president. no one among all the professors is better known to the students of the university of wisconsin than dean birge. his active figure, his firm step, his (now) white hair, which, when the writer went to school, was but iron-gray, his keen eye, have all come to be institutional and fundamental at the university of wisconsin. no undergraduate who has gone tremblingly before dean birge to get his excuse for being late to his first class after the christmas holidays will need a description of dean birge's eye. no one ever thinks of trying to deceive the dean. but withal, nothing could be more unfair than to give the notion that keenness is the only quality in that eye. kindness is there, too, and above all, justice. we who were undergraduates at madison, always think of dean birge as a scholar in his chosen line and as a school administrator. it will be a surprise to many to know of his keen interest in literature. the writer ventures to say that one will look some time before he finds, from the pen of the best-trained specialist in english, a fairer estimate of milton than the one here given by this biologist. milton introductory remarks at the celebration of the tercentenary anniversary of milton's birth, held at the university of wisconsin, december , . perhaps i am wrong in permitting myself to say anything beyond the formal words which belong to my office tonight. i am sure that i have no right to join in the tribute which today the world offers to milton, beyond that which belongs to every one who did not need to knock the dust from his copy of the poems when this tercentenary anniversary approached. yet if i had the power to praise, i should attempt the task. "if my inferior hand or voice could hint inimitable things" i would add my words to those of more discriminating praise. but if i speak at all, it must be as one of milton's readers, not as his critic, still less as his judge; not even as his eulogist. perhaps i may speak also as a descendant of the men and women who made up that puritan commonwealth from which he was born and to which at bottom he belonged; as a descendant of men and women, stern, god-fearing, theology-loving, yet very human; mostly commonplace people; not sensitive to art or caring much about it, yet capable of being profoundly moved by the greatest poetry. i may speak in the name of those who for generations kept milton second only to the bible in their knowledge and as belonging to a generation which today finds milton next beyond the bible in its ignorance. i may represent in some sort that public which long cherished him but which today leaves him to the few lovers of poetry on the one side, and on the other, must have converted him to a post-mortem belief in purgatory by condemning him to a place among the authors assigned for "intensive study" in secondary schools. i cannot find it in my heart to blame my fellows severely for their present neglect of milton. when we read the introductory lines of the aeneid--for our small latin extends so far as this--and the triumphant final words: "_atque altae moenia romae_" "burst out into sudden blaze," then in that quick vision of the walls of lofty rome we catch some hint of that spirit which made the poem the bible of the roman state. and when we find the introduction to paradise lost closing with the promise that the author will "justify the ways of god to man," we feel that temper in the poem which made it at once the holier bible of the puritan and prevented it from becoming the bible of the english speaking race for all time. but we of the stock from which milton came have not all deserted the poet. some of us still read his verse, though not for the poem so much as for the poetry, which in his hands became the "golden key that opes the palace of eternity." we do not find our milton in his earlier poems; for, charming as they are, they lack that note of strong personality and endless power which our ear first catches in lycidas: "ay me! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurled, whether beyond the stormy hebrides, where thou, perhaps, under the whelming tide visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world; or whether thou to our moist vows denied, sleep'st by the fable of bellerus old, where the great vision of the guarded mount looks toward namancos and bayona's hold--" here is the true music of milton's verse; a deep, long-drawn note, a solemn cadence; far from the "wanton heed and giddy cunning" of the music which untwists the chains of harmony, and equally distant from heaven's calm serenity of choral symphonies and "undisturbed song of pure content." this music sounds in the paradise lost, less emotional perhaps, but purer and higher; appealing to ear and soul in complex and interwoven harmonies of thought and verse. we hear it still in the samson; austere, intellectualized; the scheme of music rather than music itself; still resonant though not resounding. we have no skill to compare this music with that of other poets; but this we know, that while its harmonies linger in our ears all other verse rings poor and thin. we hear no voice but milton's which can bear the praise of his own words: "_praesentem sonat vox ipsa deum_"--its very note proclaims the present god. nor is this all. milton's verse moves us as does that of no other poet. i do not mean that it moves us to laughter or even to tears. i mean rather that it moves our souls bodily, if such a thing may be. as we read it, we find ourselves committed to a power not so much buoyant as illimitable. the verse bears us aloft and carries us forward; not swiftly, slowly rather; advancing, to our increased happiness, not directly, but with many a pause and turn; yet steadily and powerfully pressing on toward a goal certain and far-seen. we know not whether milton's poetry accomplished "things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme"; but at least we must confess for ourselves that it illumines our darkness and raises and supports us as does no other verse. and so we, who in some far off sense belong to milton's people, join tonight with you who have the right to praise his name. yet it may be that in so doing we are thinking rather of ourselves than of any tribute that you or we can bring to him. we know that your commemorative words will renew our knowledge and quicken our hearts. we hope that, hearing them, we may feel the presence of those "immortal shades of bright aerial spirits" who ever attend milton's verse; perhaps we even hope that our clearer vision may catch some new glimpse of milton himself--our poet--wearing "the crown that vertue gives" and sitting "amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats." rasmus bjÖrne anderson "rasmus b. anderson" is a name that has been familiar to all university of wisconsin students and to all people of scandinavian parentage throughout the northwest for at least two score years. this fine old man is a true son of wisconsin. he was born in albion, wisconsin, of norwegian parents, in . he received an honorary a. b. from the university of wisconsin in , and the title of l. l. d. from the same institution in . he was professor of scandinavian languages and literature here from to , when he resigned to serve as minister to denmark. he has translated scores of selections from scandinavian languages into english, and is the editor of almost countless articles of an historical, linguistic, literary, and philosophical nature. now, at the age of seventy, his friends know him as a kindly, busy man with an active and keen interest in all about him. he is at present serving in an editorial capacity on the boards of different journals and encyclopedias. the selection here given was one of the earliest that he published. it breathes the spirit of enthusiasm and love for the land of his fathers, but at the same time shows his careful citation of evidence to support his every assertion. bjarne herjulfson, from "america, not discovered by columbus." chapter x. by rasmus b. anderson. copyright, , by s. c. griggs & co. in the year , the same year that he returned from greenland, the above-named erik the red moved from iceland to greenland, and among his numerous friends, who accompanied him, was an icelander by name herjulf. herjulf had a son by name bjarne, who was a man of enterprise and fond of going abroad, and who possessed a merchant-ship, with which he gathered wealth and reputation. he used to be by turns a year abroad and a year at home with his father. he chanced to be away in norway when his father moved over to greenland, and on returning to iceland he was so much disappointed on hearing of his father's departure with erik, that he would not unload his ship, but resolved to follow his old custom and take up his abode with his father. "who will go with me to greenland?" he said to his men. "we will all go with you," replied the men. "but we have none of us ever been on the greenland sea before," said bjarne. "we mind not that," said the men,--so away they sailed for three days and lost sight of iceland. then the wind failed. after that a north wind and fog set in, and they knew not where they were sailing to. this lasted many days, until the sun at length appeared again, so that they could determine the quarters of the sky, and lo! in the horizon they saw, like a blue cloud, the outlines of an unknown land. they approached it. they saw that it was without mountains, was covered with wood, and that there were small hills inland. bjarne saw that this did not answer to the description of greenland; he knew he was too far south; so he left the land on the larboard side and sailed northward two days, when they got sight of land again. the men asked bjarne if this was greenland; but he said it was not, "for in greenland," he said, "there are great, snowy mountains; but this land is flat and covered with trees." they did not go ashore, but turning the bow from the land, they kept the sea with a fine breeze from the southwest for three days, when a third land was seen. still bjarne would not go ashore, for it was not like what had been reported of greenland. so they sailed on, driven by a violent southwest wind, and after four days they reached a land which suited the description of greenland. bjarne was not deceived, for it was greenland, and he happened to land close to the place where his father had settled. it cannot be determined with certainty what parts of the american coast bjarne saw; but from the circumstances of the voyage, the course of the winds, the direction of the currents, and the presumed distance between each sight of land, there is reason to believe that the first land that bjarne saw in the year was the present nantucket, one degree south of boston; the second nova scotia, and the third newfoundland. thus bjarne herjulfson was the first european whose eyes beheld any part of the present new england. reuben gold thwaites reuben gold thwaites was born in massachusetts in . when twenty-three years of age he came to madison, wisconsin, to act as editor of the wisconsin state journal. just ten years later he was made secretary and superintendent of the state historical society of wisconsin, in which capacity he served until his death in . all students of history in the university of wisconsin knew mr. thwaites, for no doubt partly through his influence, instructors in history impressed upon the young men and women in their classes the conception of history as being always in the making. to many a student who had always thought of history as being something written in books this new conception came as a great awakening. he urged upon all with whom he came in contact the importance of recording local events, and he had an extraordinarily keen sense of tendencies and activities in his state that were really vital and significant. the state historical library at madison contains thousands of newspaper clippings, little pamphlets, letters by obscure people, apparently unimportant legal or official documents that were gathered by reuben gold thwaites, and that now form the priceless sources of the history of the state. the services of such a man to his community cannot be reckoned commercially. the state knows itself better, understands its ideals more thoroughly, and furnishes to its students a fund of incontrovertible facts on which to base their study, because it possessed a citizen like reuben gold thwaites. the discovery of wisconsin from "stories of the badger state," pp. - . by reuben gold thwaites. copyright, , by the author. among the many queer stories brought [to quebec] by these fierce, painted barbarians [the indians] was one which told of a certain "tribe of the sea" dwelling far away on the western banks of the "upper waters," a people who had come out of the west, no man knew whence. in those early days, europeans still clung to the notion which columbus had always held, that america was but an eastern projection of asia. this is the reason that our savages were called indians, for the discoverers of america thought they had merely reached an outlying portion of india; they had no idea that this was a great and new continent. governor champlain, and after him governor frontenac, and the great explorer la salle, all supposed that they could reach india and china, already known to travelers to the east, by persistently going westward. when, therefore, champlain heard of these strange men of the sea, he at once declared they must be the long-sought chinese. he engaged nicolet, in whom he had great confidence, to go out and find them, wherever they were, making a treaty of peace with them, and secure their trade. upon the first day of july, , nicolet left quebec, a passenger in the second of two fleets of canoes containing indians from the ottawa valley, who had come down to the white settlements to trade. among his fellow passengers were three adventurous jesuit missionaries, who were on their way to the country of the huron tribe, east of lake huron. leaving the priests at allumettes island, he continued up the ottawa, then crossed over to lake nipissing, visited old friends among the indians there, and descended french creek, which flows from lake nipissing into georgian bay, a northeastern arm of lake huron. on the shores of the great lake, he engaged seven hurons to paddle his long birch-bark canoe and guide him to the mysterious "tribe of the sea." slowly they felt their way along the northern shores of lake huron, where the pine forests sweep majestically down to the water's edge, or crown the bold cliffs, while southward the green waters of the inland sea stretch away to the horizon. storms too severe for their frail craft frequently detained them on the shore, and daily they sought food in the forest. the savage crew, tiring of exercise, and overcome by superstitious fears, would fain have abandoned the voyage; but the strong, energetic master bore down all opposition. at last they reached the outlet of lake superior, the forest-girt strait of st. mary, and paddled up as far as the falls, the sault ste. marie, as it came to be called by the jesuit missionaries. here there was a large village of algonkins, where the explorer tarried, refreshing his crew and gathering information concerning the "tribe of the sea." the explorers do not appear to have visited lake superior; but, bolder than before, they set forth to the southwest, and passing gayly through the island-dotted straits of mackinac, now one of the world's greatest highways, were soon upon the broad waters of lake michigan, of which nicolet was probably the first white discoverer. clinging still to the northern shore, camping in the dense woods at night or when threatened by storm, nicolet rounded far-fetching point detour and landed upon the shores of bay de noquet, a northern arm of green bay. another algonkin tribe dwelt here, with whom the persistent explorer smoked the pipe of peace, and they gave him further news of the people he sought. next he stopped at the mouth of the menominee river, now the northeast boundary between wisconsin and michigan, where the menominee tribe lived. another council was held, more tobacco was smoked, and one of nicolet's huron companions was sent forward to notify the winnebagoes at the mouth of the fox river that the great white chief was approaching; for the uncouth winnebagoes were the far-famed "tribe of the sea" whom nicolet had traveled so far to find.... by this time, nicolet had his doubts about meeting chinese at green bay. as, however, he had brought with him "a grand robe of china damask, all strewn with flowers, and birds of many colors," such as chinese mandarins are supposed to wear, he put it on; and when he landed on the shore of fox river, where is now the city of green bay, strode forward into the group of waiting, skin-clad savages, discharging the pistols which he held in either hand. women and children fled in terror to the wigwams; and the warriors fell down and worshipped this manitou (or spirit) who carried with him thunder and lightning. "the news of his coming," says the old jesuit chronicler, "quickly spread to the places round about, and there assembled four or five thousand men. each of the chief men made a feast for him, and at one of these banquets they served at least six-score beavers."... for various reasons, it was nearly thirty years before another visit was made by white men to wisconsin. nicolet himself soon settled down at the new town of three rivers, on the shores of the st. lawrence, between quebec and montreal, as the agent and interpreter there of the great fur trade company. he was a very useful man both to the company and to the missionaries; for he had great influence over the indians, who loved him sincerely, and he always exercised this influence for the good of the colony and of religion. he was drowned in the month of october, , while on his way to release a poor savage prisoner who was being maltreated by indians in the neighborhood. frederick jackson turner born in portage, wisconsin, in , frederick j. turner was graduated from the state university in , and six years later he received his ph. d. from johns hopkins. meantime he had spent some of the years in teaching in his alma mater. he was made full professor of history in , which position he held until , when harvard university called him. few men on "the hill" were more beloved by the students than "freddie" turner. his courses were crowded, and his lectures were exceedingly popular. perhaps if his students had known that from to he served as tutor in rhetoric and oratory at wisconsin, they would not have wondered so much at the eloquence of his lectures. but eloquence was not the main feature of his lectures, nor yet the quality he most desired in the recitations of his students. woe betide the young man who had spent too little time upon the "constitutional period," and who tried to give this argus-eyed instructor the impression of deep and careful study. the bubble was sure to be pricked, and the discomfiture of the ambitious one was, while frequently laughable, always unmistakable. one never knew when he was going to be "quizzed" in "freddie's" class. but one thing was certain: that was that he would be asked a question, and when that question came it was best, from every point of view, to be able to do good, clear, straight thinking, based on a fund of religiously acquired information. one quality that professor turner exacted of himself and others was that assertions must be backed up by evidence. perhaps that is not the least important reason why the article from which a selection is here made created as profound a change in the general attitude toward american history as any single word on that subject that has ever been spoken. the significance of the frontier in american history from "the annual report of the american historical association" for , pp. - . by professor frederick j. turner, then of the university of wisconsin. in a recent bulletin of the superintendent of the census for appear these significant words: "up to and including , the country had a frontier of settlement, but at present the unsettled area has been so broken into by isolated bodies of settlement that there can hardly be said to be a frontier line. in the discussion of its extent, its westward movement, etc., it cannot, therefore, any longer have a place in the census reports." this brief official statement marks the closing of a great historic movement. up to our own day american history has been in a large degree the history of the colonization of the great west. the existence of an area of free land, its continuous recession, and the advance of american settlement westward, explain american development. behind institutions, behind constitutional forms and modifications, lie the vital forces that call these organs into life and shape them to meet changing conditions. the peculiarity of american institutions is the fact that they have been compelled to adapt themselves to the changes of an expanding people--to the changes involved in crossing a continent, in winning a wilderness, and in developing at each area of this progress out of the primitive economical and political conditions of the frontier into the complexity of city life. said calhoun in , "we are great, and rapidly--i was about to say fearfully--growing!" so saying, he touched the distinguishing feature of american life. all peoples show development; the germ theory of politics has been sufficiently emphasized. in the case of most nations, however, the development has occurred in a limited area; and if the nation has expanded, it has met other growing peoples whom it has conquered. but in the case of the united states we have a different phenomenon. limiting our attention to the atlantic coast, we have the familiar phenomenon of the evolution of institutions in a limited area, such as the rise of representative government; the differentiation of simple colonial governments into complex organs; the progress from primitive industrial society, without division of labor, up to manufacturing civilization. but we have in addition to this a recurrence of the process of evolution in each western area reached in the process of expansion. thus american development has exhibited not merely advance along a single line, but a return to primitive conditions on a continually advancing frontier line, and a new development for that area. american social development has been continually beginning over again on the frontier. this perennial rebirth, this fluidity of american life, this expansion westward with its new opportunities, its continuous touch with the simplicity of primitive society, has furnished the forces dominating american character. the true point of view in the history of this nation is not the atlantic coast, it is the great west. even the slavery struggle, which is made so exclusive an object of attention by writers like professor von holst, occupies its important place in american history because of its relation to westward expansion. in this advance, the frontier is the outer edge of the wave--the meeting point between savagery and civilization. much has been written about the frontier from the point of view of border warfare and the chase, but as a field for the serious study of the economist and the historian it has been neglected. the american frontier is sharply distinguished from the european frontier--a fortified boundary line running through dense populations. the most significant thing about the american frontier is, that it lies at the hither edge of free land. in the census reports it is treated as the margin of that settlement which has a density of two or more to the square mile. the term is an elastic one, and for our purposes does not need sharp definition. we shall consider the whole frontier belt, including the indian country and outer margin of the "settled area," of the census reports. this paper will make no attempt to treat the subject exhaustively; its aim is simply to call attention to the frontier as a fertile field for investigation, and to suggest some of the problems which arise in connection with it.... the stubborn american environment is there with its imperious summons to accept its conditions; the inherited ways of doing things are also there; and yet, in spite of environment, and in spite of custom, each frontier did indeed furnish a new field of opportunity, a gate of escape from the bondage of the past; and freshness, and confidence, and scorn of older society, impatience of its restraints and its ideas, and indifference to its lessons, have accompanied the frontier. what the mediterranean sea was to the greeks, breaking the bond of custom, offering new experiences, calling out new institutions and activities, that, and more, the ever retreating frontier has been to the united states directly, and to the nations of europe more remotely. and now, four centuries from the discovery of america, at the end of a hundred years of life under the constitution, the frontier has gone, and with its going has closed the first period of american history. paul samuel reinsch professor reinsch was born in milwaukee in . he received his a. b. from the university of wisconsin in and his doctorate in . he had the advantage of studying at the university of berlin and at rome and paris. he was assistant professor of political science at his alma mater from to , and full professor from to , except for two years, and , when he held the roosevelt professorship at the universities of berlin and leipzig. since , he has been envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary to china. his present address is the american legation, peking, china. few men have had the advantages both in study and experience that have come to dr. reinsch, and few have met these advantages with keener love for truth and desire for knowledge. he is a member of several learned societies of law and political science, and is the author of many books on these and related subjects. some of these books have been translated into japanese, chinese, spanish, and german. the selection given here is taken from "intellectual currents in the far east," and well illustrates the fact that deep learning and perfect clearness of expression may well go together in a literary production. the new education of china from "intellectual and political currents in the far east." chapter v. by paul s. reinsch. copyright, , by the author. ... the zeal of the older teachers in trying to catch up with the foreign-trained men is at times almost pathetic. in most towns a "teachers' discussion class" has been organized. these classes were established by the initiative of the teachers themselves, in order that they might acquire the knowledge necessary for elementary instruction in the new branches. with great eagerness these men, varying in age from thirty-five to fifty-five years, will follow the instruction given by some youngster in the early twenties who has been fortunate enough to have had a course in japan or the west. while the necessary superficiality of such a system must be deplored, the mere fact of this instruction being so eagerly sought by the teachers is the best proof that the old order, recognizing its inevitable fate, has abandoned the hope of regaining its former supremacy and is hurrying to adapt itself to the new conditions. this enthusiasm also finds expression in great individual sacrifices, and even in martyrdom. private gifts are made in large numbers, even without the solicitation of officials or the hope of rewards. within the last few years, it has frequently happened that some person desirous of founding a school, and lacking the means to do so, has in truly oriental fashion appealed to his or her townsmen by committing suicide, after writing out a touching request for aid in the new cause. a tartar lady at hankow who had founded a school for girls was unable to secure sufficient money for carrying on the work of the institution. in order to secure her object, she determined to commit suicide. in her farewell letter, she stated that she felt the need of the school so much that she would sacrifice her own life and thus impress the need upon those who were able to give money. her act had the result desired, as after her death money came flowing in from many sources. in most cases, fortunately, the appeals for assistance are successful without going to such extremes. thus, the wife of a district magistrate in honan, having decided to establish a school for girls, wrote a circular setting forth that a girl, if uneducated, brings six kinds of injury to herself and three kinds to her children. the subtlety of her arguments fascinated the city folk, and sufficient funds for her purpose were soon provided. the introduction of female education, which militates against the most deep-seated prejudices of the chinese race, has called for greater personal sacrifices than any other part of educational reform. some powerful patrons have indeed arisen. h. e. tuan fang urged the importance of this reform upon the empress herself, with the result that, before her death, the great lady established a school for female education in the capital. educated women are making a strong plea for the education of their sisters. doctor king ya-mei, herself educated in the west, points out that those who lament the superficial nature of the present reforms forget that "half the nation, whose special function it is to put into practice the ideas governing the world in which she lives, has not yet been touched; that the strong impressions of childhood are the lasting ones, and that man is but an embodiment of the ideas of the mother." but in the case of female education, it is not primarily the provision of funds that causes difficulties. the desire of women to share in the advantages of education is of itself looked upon by the majority of the chinese as scandalous and not at all to be encouraged. many heartrending tragedies have been brought about by insoluble conflicts of duty toward the old and the new. a short time ago, in an interior village in kiang su, a woman, ambitious to become educated, killed herself after bad treatment from her husband's relatives. her farewell letter was everywhere copied by the chinese press. it has become a national document, and almost a charter of the new movement. in it occur the following sentences: "i am about to die today because my husband's parents, having found great fault with me for having unbound my feet, and declaring that i have been diffusing such an evil influence as to have injured the reputations of my ancestors, have determined to put me to death. maintaining that they will be severely censured by their relatives, once i enter a school and receive instruction, they have been trying hard to deprive me of life, in order, as they say, to stop beforehand all the troubles that i may cause. at first they intended to starve me, but now they compel me to commit suicide by taking poison. i do not fear death at all, but how can i part from my children who are so young? indeed, there should be no sympathy for me, but the mere thought of the destruction of my ideals and of my young children, who will without doubt be compelled to live in the old way, makes my heart almost break." the blood of such martyrs is beginning to make its impression upon the chinese people, and is turning them to favor more liberal popular customs. a nation in which a spirit of such ruthless self-sacrifice is still so common may bring forth things that will astonish the world. it has been said that "china contains materials for a revolution, if she should start one, to which the horrors of the french revolution would be a mere squib;" but if turned into different channels, this spirit of self-sacrifice may, as it did in the case of japan, bring about a quick regeneration of national life and national prestige, through the establishment of new institutions, that correspond to the currents of life thus striving to assert themselves. george c. comstock professor george c. comstock was born in madison in , and after an education obtained at various colleges and universities, including the institutions of ann arbor and madison, and after considerable and varied experience in engineering and astronomical work, he became professor of astronomy in our own university in , and director of washburn observatory two years later. since he has been director of the graduate school. he is the member of many learned societies, and has been highly honored in numerous ways by institutions of learning. the stories that are told, and truly told, of his mathematical prowess, such as memorizing tables of logarithms, have excited wonder in the heart of many a student at madison. his lectures, even on the most abstruse subjects, are notably clear. his illustrations are timely, and his english is of the very purest. he is a representative of the regular classical education that is now comparatively rarely elected by university undergraduates. astrology in life and literature ... the modern philosopher and historian alike deride and marvel at astrology as the most persistent disease with which the minds of men have ever been afflicted but from which they are now happily freed by the advance of science. i must confess my inability to share this view as to the patent folly of the art. the careful student of astrology cannot fail to be impressed with the logical coherence of its doctrines and their necessary relation to the fundamental postulates from which they spring. while these postulates can no longer be maintained they seem in no way inappropriate as stages in the development of human knowledge and their wide spread acceptance is sufficient evidence of their seeming reasonableness to nascent society. indeed it is only the upper strata of european civilization that has now outgrown the beliefs above considered. asia still teems with them, from seoul to bagdad, and even in the heart of europe astrological calendars are current and find enormous circulation among the lower classes. the practicing astrologer who seeks business through advertising in the daily press is with us in america, and to judge by the persistence of his advertisements they bring response. i find upon the shelves of the principal scientific library of chicago a manual of applied astrology whose dirty and dog's eared leaves, together with recent date upon its title page, are additional testimony that american cultivation of the occult is not limited to boston. even nearer home we all know people who will plant or sow, or cut their hair only at the right phase of the moon or who have an abiding faith that the planetary weather predictions of mr. hicks are sound, in theory at least. i venture to assert that within range of the reader's acquaintance there is a considerable number of persons who firmly believe that in case of premature birth a seven months baby has a better chance of life than one of eight months--an ancient doctrine, for which excellent reasons were adduced by the greek astrologers but which seems to find little support in current medical theory. but assuredly our best memorial of the part astrology has played in human affairs lies not in such paltry superstitions but in its incorporation into the great literatures of europe. casual illustrations of this fossilized relationship have been given in this essay, but far more impressive than these instances are those cases in which astrologic doctrine permeates and dominates the whole structure of a great work. chaucer's treatise on the astrolabe was avowedly written as an exposition of the astrologic art, and in dante's divine comedy the whole moral structure of the paradiso, with its successive heavens allotted to beatitudes of varying degrees, finds its key in the astrology that dante knew and followed. the sequence of these heavens accords with that of the spheres allotted by astrologic doctrine to the several planets, arranged in the order of their increasing distance from the earth, the order of their altitude as dante would have said. the lowest heaven, that of the moon, is allotted by the poet to virgins because forsooth they best typify those qualities of cold and moist with which astrologic doctrine endows the moon. they who have fought with fire and sword in defence of the church militant are placed in a higher heaven than are those saints and theologians whose service has been intellectual in its nature; an impropriety in our eyes and doubtless little congenial to dante's mode of thought. but astrologically it must be so, for mars, who typified the warrior, is higher, i. e., more distant from the earth, than is the sun whose light and warmth are alike the symbol and the source of intellect and spirituality. but ancient and modern ideas are equally satisfied when the poet placed god and the redeemer in the empyrean, the region of the fixed stars, alike the most exalted and by reason of its distance, the purest part of the universe. although far from extinct, the old faith in the influence of the heavens is waning and it is hard to believe that any mutations of human thought can ever restore it to a status comparable with that it enjoyed in classical and mediaeval times. as a factor in the conduct of life among enlightened people its power is gone, but the marks of its old time influence are dyed in the social fabric, imprinted alike upon language and literature and so long as that literature abides, astrology cannot sink below the horizon of man's intellectual interests. james francis augustine pyre professor pyre is another teacher whom wisconsin can claim as wholly her own. he was born in in rock county, and graduated at our university in . while teaching english in his alma mater, he continued his graduate study, and was given his ph. d. in . he continued to serve his university, though for a brief space of time pursuing his study elsewhere, and became associate professor in , which position he now holds. no former student of the university reading this volume will be content with this sketch of mr. pyre without reference to his undergraduate football days, and to the nickname "sunny," which will cling to him as long as he lives. furthermore, no one who has sat in his classes and been inspired by his reading and his interpretation, and felt the optimism of his philosophy will need to have it explained to him how mr. pyre acquired his nickname. the outstanding feature of his literary criticism, whether in the form of magazine article, or lecture, or informal talk, is clarity. in his class you could always understand what he was getting at. the reader of this brief selection from "byron in our day," will sense that quality readily. the sentences are crisp and well formed. their structure is not involved. the plan and organization are evident. at the same time there is dignity and distinction in every paragraph. byron in our day by j. f. a. pyre. from the atlantic monthly, vol. xcix, p. . and with byron passion was not merely a gift; it was a doctrine. in one of his letters to miss milbanke, there is an observation which comes very near to expressing the central principle of his existence. "the great object of life is sensation--to feel that we exist--even though in pain." to him, one of the chief curses of society was its ennui, the futility of its conventional pursuits, which all recognize, but most endure. he was for fanning the coal of life into a blaze. the vitality of his emotions demanded this. hence, when friendship stagnated, when love lapsed into the inevitable mediocrity and torpor, he fretted or fled. in ordinary terms, he was fundamentally and abnormally impatient of being bored. a being thus constituted, and cherishing so dangerous a doctrine, naturally found no peace in this life, but was goaded on from pleasure to pleasure, or from one violence to another. passionate friendships, savage quarrels, gaming, carousing, travel and adventure, hard reading, hard riding, flirtations, and intrigues of varying intensity and duration, playing the social and literary lion, parliament, marriage, occupied but did not satisfy him. avid of sensation, avid of power, he threw himself impetuously into his pursuits, lavished his life with the reckless waste of a cataract, and seemed as inexhaustible. he was too clear-sighted not to perceive the triviality of many of his occupations, and though too willful to change his ways, or employ his ample will power in self-restraint, he was not sordid enough to be happy so. hence, he became a malcontent. love soothed him, nature appeased him for a time; and in the presence of either, he soared into realms of serene delight and contemplation. but "he could not keep his spirit at that height;" say, perhaps, he was not a dreamer; his passion called for outlet in action, in enterprise; and he became--a writer! edward alsworth ross edward alsworth ross is nationally one of the best-known men here represented. he was born at virden, illinois, in ; was graduated from coe college, iowa, in ; and then continued his education in berlin and johns hopkins. he has been professor of economy, sociology, and kindred subjects at many universities, including indiana university, cornell, leland stanford, junior, the university of nebraska, and, since , the university of wisconsin. he is the author of many books and magazine articles, among the most noteworthy of the former, perhaps, being "sin and society," "social psychology," "latter day sinners and saints," and "the changing chinese." the selection here chosen is from the last named book. the style is like the man, forceful, trenchant, and abounding in life. mr. ross's tall, rugged, muscular figure and forceful gestures are familiar to the lovers of lectures in wisconsin, and all who have been fortunate enough to hear him, whether in regular classes at the university, or in extension or other lecture work, will recall his striking appearance as they read the clear, clean-cut statements in this selection. the conflict of oriental and western cultures in china from "the changing chinese." chapter i. copyright, , by the century co. china is the european middle ages made visible. all the cities are walled and the walls and gates have been kept in repair with an eye to their effectiveness. the mandarin has his headquarters only in a walled fortress-city and to its shelter he retires when a sudden tempest of rebellion vexes the peace of his district. the streets of the cities are narrow, crooked, poorly-paved, filthy, and malodorous. in north china they admit the circulation of the heavy springless carts by which alone passengers are carried; but, wherever rice is cultivated, the mule is eliminated and the streets are adapted only to the circulation of wheel-barrows and pedestrians. there is little or no assertion of the public interest in the highway, and hence private interests close in upon the street and well-nigh block it. the shopkeeper builds his counter in front of his lot line; the stalls line the streets with their crates and baskets; the artisans overflow into it with their workbenches, and the final result is that the traffic filters painfully through a six-foot passage which would yet be more encroached on but for the fact that the officials insist on there being room left for their sedan chairs to pass each other. the straightened streets are always crowded and give the traveler the impression of a high density and an enormous population. but the buildings are chiefly one story in height, and, with the exception of peking, chinese cities cover no very great area. for literary effect their population has been recklessly exaggerated, and, in the absence of reliable statistics, every traveler has felt at liberty to adopt the highest guess. until recently there was no force in the cities to maintain public order. now, khaki-clad policemen, club in hand, patrol the streets, but their efficiency in time of tumult is by no means vindicated. a slouching, bare-foot, mild-faced _gendarme_ such as you see in canton is by no means an awe-inspiring embodiment of the majesty of the law. there is no common supply of water. when a city lies by a river the raw river water is borne about to the house by regular water-carriers, and the livelong day the river-stairs are wet from the drip of buckets. when the water is too thick it is partially clarified by stirring it with a perforated joint of bamboo containing some piece of alum. there is no public lighting, and after nightfall the streets are dark, forbidding, and little frequented. until kerosene began to penetrate the empire the common source of light was a candle in a paper lantern or cotton wick lighted in an open cup of peanut oil. owing to the lack of a good illuminant the bulk of the people retire with the fowls and rise with the sun. by making the evening of some account for reading or for family intercourse, kerosene has been a great boon to domestic life. fuel is scarce and is sold in neat bundles of kindling size. down the west river ply innumerable boats corded high with firewood floating down to canton and hong kong. higher and higher the tree destruction extends, and farther and farther does the axman work his way from the waterways. chaff and straw, twigs and leaves and litter are burned in the big brick bedsteads that warm the sleepers on winter nights, and under the big, shallow copper vessels set in the low brick or mud stoves. fuel is economized and household economy simplified among the poor by the custom of relying largely on the food cooked and vended in the street. the portable restaurant is in high favor, for our prejudice against food cooked outside the home is a luxury the common people cannot afford to indulge in. proper chimneys are wanting and wherever cooking goes on the walls are black with the smoke that is left to escape as it will. chinese interiors are apt to be dark for, in the absence of window glass, the only means of letting in light without weather is by pasting paper on lattice. the floors are dirt, brick, or tile, the roof tile or thatch. to the passer-by private ease and luxury are little in evidence. if a man has house and grounds of beauty, a high wall hides them from the gaze of the public. open lawns and gardens are never seen, and there is no greenery accessible to the public unless it be the grove of an occasional temple. in the houses of the wealthy, although there is much beauty to be seen, the standard of neatness is not ours. cobwebs, dust, or incipient dilapidation do not excite the servant or mortify the proprietor. while a mansion may contain priceless porcelains and display embroideries and furniture that would be pronounced beautiful the world over, in general, the interiors wrought by the chinese artisan do not compare in finish with those of his western _confrere_.... no memory of china is more haunting than that of the everlasting blue cotton garments. the common people wear coarse, deep-blue "nankeen." the gala dress is a cotton gown of a delicate bird's-egg blue or a silk jacket of rich hue. in cold weather the poor wear quilted cotton, while the well-to-do keep themselves warm with fur-lined garments of silk. a general adoption of western dress would bring on an economic crisis, for the chinese are not ready to rear sheep on a great scale and it will be long before they can supply themselves with wool. the chinese jacket is fortunate in opening at the side instead of at the front. when the winter winds of peking gnaw at you with siberian teeth, you realize how stupid is our western way of cutting a notch in front right down through overcoat, coat and vest, apparently in order that the cold may do its worst to the tender throat and chest. on seeing the sensible chinaman bring his coat squarely across his front and fasten it on his shoulder, you feel like an exposed totem-worshipper. wherever stone is to be had, along or spanning the main roads are to be seen the memorial arches known as _pailows_ erected by imperial permission to commemorate some deed or life of extraordinary merit. it is significant that when they proclaim achievement, it is that of the scholar, not of the warrior. they enclose a central gateway, flanked by two, and sometimes by four, smaller gateways, and conform closely to a few standard types, all of real beauty. as a well-built _pailow_ lasts for centuries, and as the erection of such a memorial is one of the first forms of outlay that occur to a philanthropic chinaman, they accumulate, and sometimes the road near cities is lined with those structures until one wearies of so much repetition of the same thing, however beautiful. grant showerman professor showerman is another author-teacher whom wisconsin may claim as her own. he was born at brookfield in , was graduated from the university in , and took his doctorate in . he had the advantage of two years' study at rome, where he was fellow of the archaeological institute of america in the american school of classical studies. since returning, he has been professor of latin literature at his alma mater. he is member of many learned societies, and is the author of "with the professor" and "the indian stream republic and luther parker," besides many articles which are familiar to readers of the atlantic monthly and other leading periodicals. his style will be noted at once by the careful reader as being different from that of most other prose writers whose works we quote here. it is more leisurely. he brings to the common things about us in nature the kindly, alert intelligence of one who has seen many things in many lands, but who has the memory to re-create truthfully the days of youth. a lad's recollections of his boyhood haunts and experiences in the earlier days "in october." from the sewanee review. ... on a late october saturday morning, after a week in school at the village, you take your gun and a favorite play, whistle to already eager billy, and follow the path to the brush. you traverse its quiet length by the winding road that is always mysterious and full of charm, however often you tread it, you cross the stubbled barley-field that borders lovers' lane, and cross the lane itself and enter the woods. you feel the friendly book in your pocket, and pat the friendly dog at your side, restfully conscious that you will spend neither profitless nor companionless hours. to be sure, you have in the back of your mind a thought or two about fox squirrels, or even red squirrels, and of a stew-pie--the savor of it is in your sensitive nostrils; but these thoughts are only vague. your eyes are not greedily watchful--only moderately so; you have already begun to outgrow the barbarous boyhood delight of mere killing. good will reigns in your breast. you advance cautiously, the breech-loader resting in the bend of your left arm, every step causing pleasant murmurs among the autumn leaves. when you pause, the sound of your heart-beats is audible. the genial golden tone of indian summer pervades the air. when you have penetrated to the heart of the woods, you sit down on a familiar log, the gun caressingly across your knees, and drink in the fine wine of woodland enjoyment! ah, the silence of the woods! how deep and how full of mystery! and how deeper whenever some note of life emphasizes the stillness--the knocking of a woodpecker, the cry of a sapsucker, the scream of a jay, the caw of a crow aloft on some decayed topmost branch in the distance! a distant barking note makes you start. there is a fox squirrel over yonder somewhere, beyond the ruins of the old arch. you strain your attention toward the sound. billy sits bolt upright, with round eyes, questioning ears, and suspended breath. but just as you are thinking of getting up, a nut drops with a thump on the log beside you and bounds lightly into the leaves at your feet. you know what that means! you look up instantly and catch just a glimpse of a sweeping foxy tail as it vanishes along a big branch and around the thick stem of a tree. he goes up forty or fifty feet, and then, far out on the big oak branch, lies close to the bark, out of sight. billy whines uneasily; he shivers with excitement. you say: "sit still, billy!" there is only the least bit of the foxy tail visible. you tread softly to one side and another, slowly circle the tree, and all the while the owner of the tail subtly shifts his position so that you always just fail to get a shot. finally, you resort to stratagem; you pick up a nut and throw it with all your might to the other side of the tree. he hears it fall, and, suddenly suspicious, shifts to your side of the branch. but you are not quick enough; by the time you have raised the gun, he has become satisfied that you are the greater danger of the two, and has shifted back to safety. and now you resort to more elaborate stratagem. you say: "sit down, billy!" and billy obeys, keeping his eye on you, and dropping his ears from time to time, as he catches your glance, in token of good-will. you circle the big tree again, and as you go the tail shifts constantly. finally, when you are opposite billy, you raise the gun with careful calculation. you call out quietly but sharply to your ally: "speak, billy, quick!" billy is tense with excitement at sight of the raised gun. he speaks out sharply, at the same time giving a couple of little leaps. the squirrel shifts again to your side, suddenly. and now comes your opportunity! as he sits there a moment, his attention divided between you and the new alarm, the breech-loader belches its charge. a brownish-red body with waving tail comes headlong to the ground with a crash among the leaves, which rustle and crackle for a moment or two at your feet as you watch the blind kicks of the death struggle. you pick him up, with no very great eagerness, and go on your way--regretfully, for you are enjoying the life of the woods, and are enough of a philosopher and sentimentalist to wonder what, after all, is your superior right to the enjoyment, and whether the contribution to the sum total of happiness in the universe through you is enough to compensate it for the loss through the squirrel. you ask billy about it and get no help. he simply says that whatever you think best is bound to be all right, and leads the way toward the old arch. william ellery leonard william ellery leonard was born in new jersey in . he has been a professor of english in the university of wisconsin only since , so he is not, as yet, so closely connected with the state in the thought of the alumni of the university as are most of the men whose works have just been discussed and illustrated. but if what he has produced may fairly be taken as an earnest of his future work, his name will be one which all lovers of our university will be proud to associate with that institution. one needs read scarcely more than a paragraph at almost any point in his published works to realize that mr. leonard is a man of keen and kindly interest in all things that he hears and sees, and that he has traveled and studied and lived widely and wisely. he has published several volumes, both of poems and prose,--notable among them being "sonnets and poems," "the poet of galilee," "aesop and hyssop," "the vaunt of man and other poems," and "glory of the morning." the selections given are taken from the last two volumes mentioned. one acquainted with modern english poetry may sense a marked likeness between mr. leonard's poems and those of swinburne, though the former says he is not conscious of any such resemblance. there is a warmth of passion, a fluid quality in the rhythm, markedly like those elements in the great english poet. the selection from "glory of the morning" here given begins at that point in the play where half moon, the chevalier, the white trapper, comes back to his indian wife to bid her farewell and to take their two children with him to his home in france. the reader will feel, even in this brief extract, the sweep toward a climax of emotion, and will be impelled to read the whole play at his first opportunity. (one of the most interesting features of the editorial work of this volume has been the adjustment of the choice of selections respectively of the editors and authors. the editors' choice of the poems from mr. leonard's volume, "the vaunt of man," was "love afar"; the author, on the other hand, tells us that he thought so little of this poem that he even considered omitting it from the volume. his preference is "a dedication." what does the reader say?) glory of the morning copyright, , by the author. the chevalier: i will take care of the children. they are both young. they can learn. glory of the morning: they can learn? the chevalier: oak leaf is already more than half a white girl; and red wing is half white in blood, if not in manners--_ca ira_. glory of the morning (beginning to realize): no, no. they are mine! the chevalier (reaching out his arms to take them): no. glory of the morning: they are mine! they are mine! the chevalier: the great king will give them presents. glory of the morning: no, no! the chevalier: he will lay his hands on their heads. glory of the morning: he shall not, he shall not! the chevalier: i have said that i will tell him you were their mother. glory of the morning: i am their mother--i am their mother. the chevalier: and he will praise glory of the morning. glory of the morning: they are mine, they are mine! the chevalier: i have come to take them back with me over the big sea water. glory of the morning (the buckskin shirt falls from her hands as she spreads her arms and steps between him and her children): no, no, no! they are not yours! they are mine! the long pains were mine! their food at the breast was mine! year after year while you were away so long, long, long, i clothed them, i watched them, i taught them to speak the tongue of my people. all that they are is mine, mine, mine! the chevalier (drawing oak leaf to him and holding up her bare arm): is that an indian's skin? where did that color come from? i'm giving you the white man's law. glory of the morning (struggling with the chevalier): i do not know the white man's law. and i do not know how their skin borrowed the white man's color. but i know that their little bodies came out of my own body--my own body. they must be mine, they shall be mine, they are mine! (the chevalier throws her aside so that she falls.) the chevalier: glory of the morning, the great spirit said long before you were born that a man has a right to his own children. the great spirit made woman so that she should bring him children. black wolf, is it not so? black wolf: it is so. the chevalier (to glory of the morning, standing apart): black wolf is the wise man of your people. black wolf: and knows the great spirit better than the white men. the chevalier: indeed, i think so. black wolf: and the great spirit made the man so that he should stay with the squaw who brought him the children,--except when off hunting meat for the wigwam or on the warpath for the tribe. glory of the morning (with some spirit and dignity): the white man half moon has said that he believes black wolf. the chevalier: the white man has not come to argue with the red skin, but to take the white man's children. black wolf (in his role of practical wisdom): the half moon will listen to black wolf. the chevalier (with conciliation): if the black wolf speaks wisely.... black wolf: neither oak leaf nor red wing is a mere papoose to be snatched from the mother's back. the chevalier: the half moon shares black wolf's pride in the half moon's children. black wolf (pointing to the discarded cradle-board): the mother long since loosened the thongs that bound them to the cradle-board, propped against the wigwam. the chevalier: and when she unbound the thongs of the cradle-board they learned to run toward their father. black wolf: but invisible thongs may now bind them round, which even the half moon might not break, without rending the flesh from their bones and preparing sorrows and cares for his head. the chevalier: let us have done, black wolf. black wolf: thongs which none could break, unless oak leaf and red wing themselves should first unbind them. (to the children.) will oak leaf, will red wing unbind the mystic thongs of clan and home? let the children decide. the chevalier: black wolf is wise. my children are babes no longer. they can think and speak. black wolf: let them speak.... glory of the morning: yes. let the children decide. black wolf: oak leaf, do you want to leave black wolf and glory of the morning to go with half moon over the big sea water? oak leaf (looking up at her mother): o _do_ i, mother? glory of the morning: i cannot tell. i love you, oak leaf. oak leaf (withdrawing toward her father): mother, make father half moon take you with us too. glory of the morning: the half moon has told you that he no longer needs glory of the morning. the chevalier (taking oak leaf's hand caressingly): oak leaf, you are too beautiful to wither and wrinkle here digging and grinding and stitching, though the handsomest brave of the winnebago bought you for his squaw. beyond the big sea water you won't have to dig and grind and stitch. and sometime a noble brave of my nation will come in a blue suit with gold braid to the chateau and say: "i love oak leaf; will you give oak leaf to me?" oak leaf (gladly): and you'll give me to him, father! ... (oak leaf leans against her father, with a half frightened glance at glory of the morning.) the chevalier: you see, glory of the morning. glory of the morning (with restraint): i will say good-bye to oak leaf. black wolf: red wing, are you going with your sister and with half moon over the big sea water? red wing: sister, _are_ you really going?--you are always making believe. oak leaf: o, father,--tell him. the chevalier: she is going, red wing. red wing: there is nothing for me beyond the big sea water. the chevalier: over there your father is a famous chief, and you might wear a sword and fight beside the great king. red wing: i shall not fight beside the great king; and i shall not wear the white man's sword. the chevalier (takes his arm, coaxingly): little chief, why not? why not, my son? glory of the morning (coldly and firmly): because he is _my_ son. red wing (standing off; to the chevalier with boyish pride): because i am a winnebago. love afar from "the vaunt of man and other poems," p. . copyright, , by b. w. huebsch. i dare not look, o love, on thy dear grace, on thine immortal eyes, nor hear thy song, for o too sore i need thee and too long, too weak as yet to meet thee face to face. thy light would blind--for dark my dwelling place-- thy voice would wake old thoughts of right and wrong, and hopes which sleep, once beautiful and strong, that would unman me with a dread disgrace: therefore, o love, be as the evening star, with amber light of land and sea between, a high and gentle influence from afar, persuading from the common and the mean, still as the moon when full tides cross the bar in the wide splendor of a night serene. the image of delight o how came i that loved stars, moon, and flame, an unimaginable wind and sea, all inner shrines and temples of the free, legends and hopes and golden books of fame; i that upon the mountain carved my name with cliffs and clouds and eagles over me, o how came i to stoop to loving thee-- i that had never stooped before to shame? o 'twas not thee! too eager of a white, far beauty and a voice to answer mine, myself i built an image of delight, which all one purple day i deemed divine-- and when it vanished in the fiery night, i lost not thee, nor any shape of thine. a dedication (for a privately printed collection of verse.) ye gave me life for life to crave: desires for mighty suns, or high, or low, for moons mysterious over cliffs of snow, for the wild foam upon the midsea wave; swift joy in freeman, swift contempt for slave; thought which would bind and name the stars and know; passion that chastened in mine overthrow; and speech, to justify my life, ye gave. life of my life, this late return of song i give to you before the close of day; life of your life! which everlasting wrong shall have no power to baffle or betray, o father, mother!--for ye watched so long, ye loved so long, and i was far away. thomas herbert dickinson thomas herbert dickinson was born in virginia in , and after a wide and thorough scholastic preparation was made associate professor of english in the university of wisconsin in . mr. dickinson is known to thousands of the citizens of wisconsin as a friend of the drama. he believes that the drama is one of the most legitimate and natural means for the expression of the sentiments, tendencies, activities, and ideals of any people. no doubt he has done much to raise the standard of dramatic judgment and criticism among the citizens of wisconsin. however, he would not want it said that he is trying primarily "to raise people's dramatic ideals." his mission rather has been to encourage communities to express themselves legitimately and wholesomely through their own dramatic productions. he has won much distinction both as an editor and an author of plays, but perhaps his greatest service to wisconsin in this direction is his work in editing the little volume, "wisconsin plays," containing one play each by zona gale, professor leonard, and himself. the following selection is taken from his play, "in hospital," in the volume just mentioned. it depicts just such a scene as takes place in our hospitals every day of the year. the wife is about to undergo a serious operation. the husband is trying to keep cheerful in anticipation of the ordeal. that is the sort of scene which, mr. dickinson wants us to realize, can be wholesomely and pleasantly represented by the drama. in hospital copyright, , by the author. a wife. a husband. a surgeon. an interne. a nurse. wife: tell me about the children. husband: oh, they are getting on--so, so. wife: i know they will. husband: but you should see them! (turning toward her. she nods without speaking.) they're trying hard to be good, but it's a stiff pull for the little rascals. well, i don't blame them. freddie put me in quite a hole the other day. "what's the use of being good when mother's away?" he asked. (she smiles.) for the life of me i couldn't think of an answer. what would you say? wife: i'd be as bad off as you were. husband: but robert wasn't. he had an answer. "so mother will be happy when she comes back," he said. wasn't that good? wife: just like robert. husband: i don't know what we should have done without robert. he serves at the table. he answers the door and the telephone. he ties the baby's bib. how he thinks of everything i don't know. i--i'm so helpless. why didn't you ever teach me to take charge of the house? wife: fancy teaching you anything you didn't want to learn. husband (after a moment's deep silence): all the kiddies send you their love. wife: even freddie? husband: oh, freddie, to be sure. guess you know about what he's doing. upstairs and downstairs. outdoors and in. wife: i hope he won't get hurt. husband: trust him for that. but how do you keep him in aprons? they're all dirty already. yesterday he got all scratched up trying to put kitty to bed and make him say his prayers. he has fallen in the flour bin, put the telephone out of commission, pulled the table-cloth and dishes off the table. there isn't anything he hasn't done. freddie will welcome you back with a dish-pan band, when you come home. wife (closing her eyes): yes-- husband (pretending not to notice, though it is clear that he does): did i tell you about night before last? wife: no. husband: well, that night he slept over at cousin, ruthie's house. all his nightgowns were dirty so aunt ella made him wear one of ruthie's. but she had the hardest time making him wear it. the next morning he said to me, "i'm glad i ain't a woman, ain't you, paw?" "yes, i suppose so," said i. "why?" "oh, they're all right, i guess," he said, "but before i'll wear another of those women's nightgowns, i'll go to bed raw." wife (smiling): little man. does he ask for me much? husband: just this morning he said, "pop, you tell mamma to come back quick or i'll elope with the ice man."... well, they're good children. i don't think any one ever had better. and that's something, isn't it? wife: that's everything. they make me very happy.... you know, dear, i have been doing a good deal of thinking since i came here. i've seen things very clearly, clearer than even at home. i think i've been able to tell why i've been so happy. you find out what's really worth while in a time like this, don't you? (husband nods.) wife: i won't say anything about you. you know. but the children. (she smiles.) yes, i know why i've been happy. william j. neidig iowa and illinois may rightly contest the claim of wisconsin for a proprietary interest in mr. william jonathan neidig. he was born in the first-named state, and is at present living in chicago, where he is engaged in business, though he still finds time for an occasional story or poem. he was a member of the faculty in the english department of the university of wisconsin from to , and it was during approximately this period of his life that his literary activity was greatest. "the first wardens," which was nominated for the nobel prize in idealistic literature, was published in , and several critical works that attracted wide attention came from his pen during his wisconsin residence. the one poem which we quote here shows an evenness of power and an assurance of touch that mark real poetry. it also would be generally recognized, the editors feel, as having been written by a university man. the buoy-bell from "the first wardens." copyright, , the macmillan co. bell! bell! bell that rideth the breakers' crest, bell of the shallows, tell, o tell: the swell and fall of foam on the sand, storm in the face from sea to land, roar of gray tempest: these, o bell, what say these of the west? tell! o tell! bell! bell! crowding the night with cries, o tell: what of the moorings in the silt? what of the blooms that drift and wilt? what of the sea-chest wrenched wide? is it safe harbor by thy side? bell that rideth the breakers' crest, what say these of the west? tell! o tell! bell! bell! it is a dirge the bell is tolling, a dirge for the silent dead,-- with the cold sea rolling, rolling, rolling, rolling each restless head. bell that rideth the breakers' crest, o, when will they lie all quietly, untossed by the slow sea-swell: nor breakers brave on the great sea-beach, nor ceaseless crash of the cresting sea, nor booming headland's sullen knell, nor bell, for elegy? when is the last tide out of the west, and the last restless dream for each? tell! o tell! toll! toll! toll! toll for the ebbing tide: toll for the lives that outward ride: toll for the deep-delved cold sea-seat: night in the west at every beat! toll! toll! brayley--winslow--jones. in this group of young writers, the editors present what seems to them to be the best work done by students or young graduates of the university while unquestionably under her influence. they wish there were work by more such writers to present. possibly there is more that has not yet been brought to their attention. berton brayley has written extensively for newspapers. he has facility in rhyme and the knack of "hitting off" a verse that well fits an occasion. one has the feeling, however, that there is a power and seriousness to the man that have not yet found adequate expression. perhaps in the next ten years the qualities of ease, leisureliness, and reflection will assert themselves more in his poetry. but from the first there has been a wholesome tone about his work. horatio winslow, son of chief justice j. b. winslow, showed marked ability while an undergraduate. he was a collaborator in the writing of a play which was presented by university students. as with mr. brayley, we would say of him that his best work has not yet been published. there is power and strength and grace latent in him that have not yet found expression, but that are unmistakably foretold in the things he has already produced. howard mumford jones is the youngest of these three men, and comes from the spirit-haunted region of the mississippi. while his poems have not yet attained absolute surety of touch and evenness of movement, yet of those presented in this group they probably evince the most grace and music, together with the highest and warmest poetic feeling. "when shall we together" has real sweep and atmosphere and glow. it is the production of a poet who loved the subject he was writing about. sometimes sometimes i long for a lazy isle, ten thousand miles from home, where the warm sun shines and the blue skies smile and the milk-white breakers foam-- a coral island, bravely set in the midst of the southern sea, away from the hurry and noise and fret forever surrounding me! for i tire of labor and care and fight, and i weary of plan and scheme, and ever and ever my thoughts take flight to the island of my dream; and i fancy drowsing the whole day long in a hammock that gently swings-- away from the clamorous, toiling throng, away from the swirl of things! and yet i know, in a little while, when the first glad hours were spent, i'd sicken and tire of my lazy isle and cease to be content! i'd hear the call of the world's great game-- and battle with gold and men-- and i'd sail once more, with a heart of flame, back to the game again! --berton braley. saturday evening post, january , . the pioneers current opinion. volume liv. page . (first published in the coming nation.) we're the men that always march a bit before tho we cannot tell the reason for the same; we're the fools that pick the lock that holds the door-- play and lose and pay the candle for the game. there's no blaze nor trail nor roadway where we go; there's no painted post to point the right-of-way, but we swing our sweat-grained helves, and we chop a path ourselves to tomorrow from the land of yesterday. it's infrequent that we're popular at home, (like king david we're not built for tending sheep,) and we scoff at living a la metronome, and quite commonly we're cynical and cheap. true--we cannot hold a job to save our lives; we're a dreamy lot and steady work's a bore-- 'til the luring of the quest routs us out from sleep and rest and we rope and tie the world and call for more. well, they try to hold us back by foolish words-- but we go ahead and do the thing we've planned; then they drive us out to shelter with the birds-- and the ravens bring our breakfast to our hand. so they jail us and we lecture to the guards; they beat us--we make sermons of their whips; they feed us melted lead and behold the word is said. that shall burn upon a million living lips. are we fighters?......by our fellows we are fanged. are we workers?......paid with blows we never earned. are we doctors?......other doctors see us hanged. are we teachers?......brother teachers have us burned. but through all a something somehow holds us fast 'spite of every beast-hung brake and steaming fen; and we keep the torch on high till a comrade presses by when we pass it on and die--and live again! a little book of local verse author of "the masque of marsh and river." copyright, , by the author. pages - . when shall we together tramp beneath the sky, thrusting through the weather as swimmers strive together, you and i? how we ranged the valleys, panted up the road, sang in sudden sallies of mirth that woke the valleys where we strode! glad and free as birds are, laughter in your eyes, wild as poets' words are, you were as the birds are, very wise. not for you the prison of the stupid town; when the winds were risen, you went forth from prison, you went down, down along the river dimpling in the rain, where the poplars shiver by the dancing river, and again climbed the hills behind you when the rains were done; only god could find you with the town behind you in the sun! don't you hear them calling, blackbirds in the grain, silver raindrops falling where the larks are calling you in vain? comrade, when together shall we tramp again in the summer weather, you and i together, now as then? joseph p. webster. no one who reads this book is unfamiliar with "the sweet bye and bye." but how many of us, as we sang that song, realized that both its words and music were written by a wisconsin man,--joseph p. webster? he was born in new hampshire in , but he lived most of his life at elkhorn, where he died in . he was a member of many musical societies, and was the composer of many other songs, the best known of the latter being "lorena." sweet bye and bye composed by joseph philbrick webster, february, . i. there's a land that is fairer than day, and by faith we can see it afar, for the father waits over the way, to prepare us a dwelling place there. chorus. in the sweet by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore; in the sweet by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore. ii. we shall sing on that beautiful shore the melodious songs of the blest, and our spirits shall sorrow no more-- not a sigh for the blessings of rest. iii. to our bountiful father above, we will offer the tribute of praise, for the glorious gifts of his love, and the blessings that hallow our days. writers of local distinction the greatest difficulty confronting the compilers of any anthology is involved in the necessary exclusion, through lack of space, or else, in some instances, through lack of unmistakable manifestation of literary merit, of some authors and selections that would no doubt be welcomed by many readers of the volume. in the present work it has been the main purpose to set forth in due prominence the works of those writers of our state who have displayed unmistakable literary merit, and who have, beyond doubt, possessed both a message and a marked facility in giving it to the world. we now come to those who, usually despite the rigorous exactions of hurried and anxious frontier lives, have sensed the essential elements of poetry or story in their workaday lives, and have had the courage and optimism necessary to write and publish. to show just what courage it took and just what spirit impelled these writers, let us quote from the preface to a country girl's fate by c. f. sheriff. ... "when ed. coe, of whitewater, wisconsin, began some twelve years ago publishing cold spring items, signed by 'greenhorn,' he published the first lines i ever wrote, at which time some spirit (or some unseen thing) seemed to be always whispering in my ear that i must write a book. "never could i drive from me these thoughts, and situated as i was, with plenty of farm work to do, no education at all, no knowledge of such business, no friends to help me, but lots to kick me down, i can tell you i was pretty well discouraged, and if i had not had lots of courage, the contents of this book would not have been written. "this work is the only kind of work that i can get interested in, and should i pass to the mysterious beyond without gaining any name in this way, i would declare with my last breath that my life, as far as myself was concerned, had been a failure." dew drops something of the same impulse is found in this dedication of the volume "dew drops," by leda bond (mrs. feldsmith). "this little book is fondly dedicated to raymond and leotta, my two beloved children, who, when the shades of sorrow closed around me, stretched forth their baby fingers, and parting the curtains of gloom, revealed once more the gladsome light of a happier day." we feel that the names of some of these courageous and happy pioneers should be given in this volume, together with brief selections from some of their works. some of the verses here given will show sure sense of rhyme and pleasing balance and reserve. some have, it is true, little to commend them but the evident longing to express the song that was in the soul rather than on the lips. but who can say how much the more successful ones, who have won deserved fame and plaudits, owe to the more obscure who sought, with more meagre measure of success, to show that there is poetry and song and story in wisconsin? poems of a day. a collection of fugitive poems written among the cares and labors of daily journalism. by a. m. thomson. (then editor of the sentinel), milwaukee, . death of governor harvey bow down thy head, o commonwealth, 'tis fitting now for thee to weep; thy hopes lie buried in the grave, in which our chieftain is asleep. the flags at half mast sadly droop, the bells toll out a solemn wail, as on the southern breeze there comes, with lightning speed, the sick'ning tale! o, dreadful night! o, fatal step! o, rushing river's angry tide! was there no quick, omniscient arm to save a life so true and tried? breathe, lofty pines, his requiem; sing paeans in thy forest gloom; and ye, ye prairies, that he loved, bring flora's gems to deck his tomb. o, state, bereft of him you loved, o, mother, from thy loving breast, our friend and brother, statesman, chief, at noon, sinks calmly to his rest! we cannot hide these scalding tears, but kiss in trust this chast'ning rod; though reason sleeps, faith is not blind, but sees in all the hand of god. ballads of war and peace. by j. h. whitney, baraboo, wisconsin. the muster rolls when treason, veiled in fair disguise, and clad in robes of state, invoked the sword to cut the ties that made a nation great, wisconsin sounded the alarm, and beat the battle-drum: men heard from office, mill and farm, and answered, "lo! we come." down from the rugged northern pines, up from the eastern coast; from riverside and southern mines, comes forth the loyal host. from gainesville thru the wilderness they march with fearless tread, and leave behind, as on they press, an army of the dead. * * * beneath the blue--above the green, mid flowers of fairest hue, we honor now with reverent mien, the men who wore the blue. the story of the rolls is told. the records, worn and gray, like veterans, are growing old, and soon shall pass away. but deeds of valor for a cause so just, shall ever shine, and loyalty to righteous laws shall live, because divine. in the land of fancy, and other poems. by mrs. libbie c. baer. (appleton, wisconsin. copyright, , by the author.) in the land of fancy never a cloud to darken the blue, never a flower to lose its hue, never a friend to prove untrue in the beautiful land of fancy. never a joy to turn to pain, never a hope to die or wane, never a boon we may not gain in the beautiful land of fancy. never a heart turns false or cold, never a face grows gray or old, never a love we may not hold in the beautiful land of fancy. all of life that we crave or miss, (the world denies us half its bliss), free, untrammelled, we have in this-- in the beautiful land of fancy. a collection of poems. by j. r. henderson, riley, wisconsin. copyright, , by the author. we give here a selection of "neighborhood verse," such as may achieve much local fame and really may make life more worth living. a nuptial salutation neighbors and friends, we have met today, at the home of jimmie clow, to see his daughter mary give her hand away, and take the marriage vow. to see willie goodwin get a wife, and start on the matrimonial sea. long life, health and happiness to him and his, is the wish of this whole company. now, willie, lad, here's a pipe for you, it's a present from old joe; and when you take your evening smoke you'll remember him, i know. and, mary, lass, here's a gift for you-- ah, you'll need it yet; you'll see. take it now, and hide it away from this laughing company. songs and sonnets. by mary m. adams. copyright, , by the author (wife of charles kendall adams, then president of the university of wisconsin). wisconsin sound her praise! our noble state, all her strength to deeds translate, prove her shield when danger's nigh, read her banner in the sky, tell of her in song and story, all her past with love illume, show her present robed in glory, promise of a larger bloom. morning maid! whose day began with the nobler life in man, sun-crowned souls reveal thy fame, sacred hopes thy laws proclaim. o father! hear for her our prayer, bid her voice thine own decree, let all her growth thyself declare, guard the light supplied by thee! my best poem. you ask of mine the poem i love best, and promise it shall have the larger light; alas, alas! far, far beyond the rest i love the poem that i mean to write! the richest time of life myra goodwin plantz. - . from songs of quiet hours. copyright, by pres. samuel plantz and reprinted by permission of the methodist book concern. this poem was written to her mother on her seventy-seventh birthday. the spring is fair; it has its flowers, its happy time of sun and showers; then summer cometh as a queen, with roses on her robe of green; but autumn brings the crimson leaves and wealth of golden, garnered sheaves, and grapes that purple on the vine, with spring and summer in their wine. the morning comes with rosy light that dims the candles of the night, and wakes the nestling birds to song, and sends to toil the brave and strong. mid-day and afternoon are spent in search of gold or heart-content; then comes the sunset's glow and rest, and this of all the days is best. the baby comes with paradise still shining in his smiling eyes, and childhood passes like a dream, as lilies float upon a stream. then youth comes with its restless heat, and manhood, womanhood, replete with care and pleasure, joy and strife, lead to the richest part of life. and it has reached these, mother dear, the sunny, mellow time of year; though with a climate of thine own, in constant sun thy soul has grown. time counts not helpful, happy years-- he only numbers sighs and tears; so rich in blessings, strong in truth, thou hast not age, but richer youth. wayside flowers. by carrie carlton. (mrs. m. h. chamberlain.) a spell is on my spirit a spell is on my spirit and i cannot, cannot write, all the teeming thoughts of glory that crowd my soul tonight. they come in quick succession, like the phantoms in a dream; and they surge in shadowy billows, like the mist upon a stream. oh! had i but the language, i would give these visions birth; i would shadow their glorious meaning, and their untold, hidden worth. they were raised by wild thanksgiving, for a blessed answered prayer; and their fleeting, changing beauty, held my spirit breathless there. i had pleaded, oh, how earnest for one precious, precious boon; for one gift to cheer this bosom, that was desolate so soon. now i know my prayer is answered, and my soul would fain adore, him whose promise is forever, and is faithful evermore. under the pines. by ada f. moore. published by west and co., milwaukee, . lines for the times there's a certain class of people in this sublunary sphere-- (and if i'm not mistaken, you'll find them even here), who think the rare old precept to the old athenians given, and esteemed so full of wisdom that they deemed it came from heaven,-- in this glorious age of progress has become quite obsolete; so they choose another motto, for these latter times more meet. it is "know thyself" no longer-- so they say, and who can doubt them-- but "mortal, know thy neighbors, and everything about them!" to attain this worthy object, all other cares forego; to gain this glorious knowledge, you cannot stoop too low. heed not the ancient croakers, who ask, with solemn phiz-- "is it anybody's business what another's business is?" no! we'd join the glorious party, that to giant size has grown, to mind our neighbor's business, and "know nothing" of our own, hurrah! for the rights of meddlers! for the freedom of our day! for the glorious age of progress! and for young america! memories of the wisconsin and other poems. by harry lathrop. published by review print, flint, mich., in . the man who laughs he loves to make another laugh and laugh himself as well, nor any one around one-half so good a joke can tell. the less of pain a man can give, the more of joy he scatters; the more excuse for him to live-- apart from weightier matters. then emulate the men who laugh, good health and mirth are catching, the wine of joy is ours to quaff, life's duties while despatching. over the divide. and other verses. by marion manville. copyright, , by the author. prelude but one of a thousand voices, oh, how can one voice be heard, when ninety and nine and nine hundred are chanting the same old word? but one of a thousand singers, what song can i sing, oh pray, that is not sung over and over, and over again today? visions of a citizen. by professor j. j. blaisdell, ( - ), beloit college. copyright, . j. a. blaisdell. extract from an address (p. ). one cannot be a good citizen of wisconsin without being a good citizen of america. one cannot be a good citizen of america without being a good citizen of the commonwealth of all nations. one cannot be a good citizen of the world commonwealth without being a good citizen of the universal kingdom of god's moral order. wisconsin citizenship, magnificent lesson to be learned! john nagle's philosophy. complied by sydney t. pratt, manitowoc, wisconsin. entered according to the act of congress, in the year , in the office of the librarian of congress, at washington, by sydney t. pratt. autumn there is something in the approach of autumn, the border land of summer, that is depressing, just as if the shadow of death were brooding over the future. there are dark clouds in the sky which cut off the sunshine; there is a gloom in the heart which darkens hope and makes life "scarcely worth living." the wind has a mournful cadence, and the trees saw as if the motion were a sigh of sorrow. everything seems to harmonize with the prevailing spirit of sadness, and animate nature moans forth a dirge. dew drops seem like tears, and the evening breeze is a sigh. the moon itself seems to wear a garb of grief and floats among the clouds, a tear-stained diana. it is a season for men to grow mad, for anguish to gnaw at the heart, and for melancholy to usurp the throne of reason. the retina only receives dark impressions, the tympanum transmits none but doleful sounds. one is feasted on dismal thoughts on every hand until it becomes a regular symposium of sorrow. those imps, the blues, that feed one on dejection, are in their heyday, implacable as a nemesis, persistent as a devil. they revel in gloom and drag one down to the slough of despond. work is performed mechanically, and what in its nature is amusement, is now a bore. one "sucks melancholy from a song as a weasel sucks eggs," and longs for night that he may seek forgetfulness in sleep--the twin-sister of death. a miserable world this, when the year is falling "into the sear and yellow leaf;" and there is a lingering wish that the shadows which come from the west would bring that icy breath that gives forgetfulness and rest. poems. by wilfrid earl chase, madison. copyright, , by the author. faith maze of antinomies and miracles! bewildered, purblind we are led along this rock-strewn, flower-decked, mystic, wondrous way. whence came? what are we? whither are we led? wherefore journey we? why such fickle path? and nature's myriad answers, voiced in the storm's wild tumult, fringed on the gentian's azure cup, or limned on human brow, we would descry,-- and some we darkly guess, and some we almost know. book of the green lake manse. a sequel to the rhymed story of wisconsin. by j. n. davidson. my neighbor's chickens (the following verses express no grievance of my own. i could not ask for more considerate neighbors. but all gardeners are not so fortunate, and it is for their sake and at the suggestions of one of them that these lines were written.) sometimes i say "the dickens! there are my neighbor's chickens!" my neighbor i like well but--let me grievance tell-- i do not like his chickens;-- save when he bids me to a roast and plays the part of kindly host. my garden is most dear to me from carrot bed to apple tree, and so my patience sickens when i behold the chickens in it and scratching merrily. dark gloom grows darker, thickens, in looking at those chickens. a certain scientific man once called the hen "a feeble bird." it is, i'm sure, on no such plan my neighbor's hens are built; the word "feeble" to them does not apply. i wish professor would stand by and see those hens make mulching fly. or let him watch them as they eat my cauliflower choice and sweet, or gorge themselves on berries fine; the way they always do with mine. they run on their destructive feet from stalk to stalk, from vine to vine, or scratch as if they dug a mine. and so, my neighbor, won't you please, my cares dispel, my troubles ease, by keeping all your hens at home? soon, soon the very earth will freeze and then the fowls at large may roam. so i'll not need the pen of dickens to tell my horror of your chickens! to my neighbors at hill crest shall i do dear sam a wrong if i write no little song telling how he pleases grace, brings the light to tompie's face, shares their play or runs a race, merry all about the place? no: i'd do the duck no wrong if i failed to make the song. he'll not care for verse or rhyme. but this pleasant summer-time i have seen my little neighbors, happy in their kindly labors making sam and others glad, so i say, "god bless the lad; bless the lassie"; and i know that the love to sam they show makes their own hearts richer, truer; makes the sky seem brighter, bluer; makes them to us all a joy (i mean duck, and girl, and boy). so i'd surely do a wrong if i did not say in song to loved tompie and miss grace (merry all about the place) that their duck's important, quite, with his new-grown feathers white; but the more important thing is their love; of this i sing! in the limestone valley. pen pictures of early days in western wisconsin. by s. w. brown. copyright, , la crosse, wisconsin. from chapter ii, pp. - . such was neoshone, as the indians who frequently camped there called it when the first white man stood on the bank of the river and watched the rushing waters flow swiftly by. they had borne the red man in his canoe, and around this very spot the winnebago hunter had secured fine strings of ducks, and for generations had trapped for mink and gathered in abundance the fish that swarmed in every eddy and pool. the hill at the north was crowned with a beautiful grove of young oak trees, and, standing on its slope, the early pioneer beheld before his eyes a magnificent panorama. in the distance the everlasting hills seemed to stand guard round and about it as did the walls of the jewish capitol encircle its sacred precincts. valley, hillside, prairie, and plain, stretched away from the spectator's feet in varying lines and curves, while down the center rolled the grand old river. it seemed like a second canaan, waiting for the coming of the chosen people, its soil ready to be waked by the share of the settler's plow, when crops would come forth as if touched by the magician's wand. from "on growing old." by neal brown. read before the phantom club, oconomowoc, wisconsin, april , . ... growing old has many stages. you can remember the time when, in reading your favorite author, you were disgusted to find that he had made his hero forty years old, and you wondered how he could be guilty of imputing romance to such an unconscionable age. by and by, even though you found forty years to be the old age of youth, you were solaced by the thought that it was the youth of old age, and still later you will wonder where youth ends and old age begins. in many assemblages you once found yourself the youngest man, or among the youngest. but with swift-flying years, you finally found yourself equal in age to most of those in all assemblies; but the time comes when only younger men are crowding around you. and when you try to evade the thought that you are growing old, along comes some kindly friend with the greeting, "how young you are looking." you grow to regard as babes, wild, young blades of forty or fifty. you may comfort yourself with the thought expressed by holmes. he says that he could feel fairly immune from death as long as older men whom he knew, still remained, especially if they were of a much greater age than himself. they were farther out on the skirmish line, and must be taken first. my allegiance. by cora kelley wheeler, marshfield, wisconsin. copyright, , the editor publishing company. from "my lady eleanor," pp. - . i was wounded at acre. my strong right arm will never strike another blow for the glory of the cross. i started sadly out, in spite of our victory, for my western home. i thought to look in eleanor's face once more, and see if the years had brought any tender thoughts of me into her heart. if not, i should never trouble her with any claim of mine. i knew she passed her time in works of charity, and that the house of savoy had never held the love and reverence of the people before as it held it today, under the rule of my lady eleanor. we reached savoy. in the old days i carried to the lady of my heart a reprieve from death; but to me she brought now a reprieve that took all the grief and sorrow out of my life, as she laid her sweet face on my breast and whispered, "i have loved you ever since the night you brought me home; why did you ever leave me?" with the love of the duchess of savoy began a new life; but to me she will ever be, as when i loved her first, "my lady eleanor." other wisconsin writers and their works. albertine w. moore, echoes from mistland, norway music album. marion v. dudley, poems. ella a. giles, maiden rachael, out from the shadows, bachelor ben, flowers of the spirit. james gates percival, percival's poems. charles noble gregory, poems. julia and medora clark, driftwood. charlotta perry, (pseud.) carlotta perry's poems, . john goadby gregory, a beauty of thebes and other verses. florence c. reid, jack's afire, survival of the fittest. kent kennan, sketches. myron e. baker, vacation thoughts. joseph v. collins, of stevens point, sketches. myra emmons, of stevens point, short stories. julia m. tascher, of stevens point, arbutus and dandelions, a novel. ada f. moore, (mrs. john phillips, of stevens point), under the pines. mrs. e. m. tascher, (mother of julia m. tascher), the story of stevens point. john hicks, of oshkosh, lately minister plenipotentiary of the united states to peru, the man from oshkosh. julius taylor clark, formerly of madison, the ojibue conquest. george grimm, of milwaukee, pluck, a story of a little immigrant boy. genessee richardson, of oconomowoc, my castle in the air. chester l. saxby, of superior, a captain of the king. miss l. j. dickinson, of superior, john o'dreams. george steele, of whitewater, deidre. julius c. birge, (the first white child born in whitewater.) the awakening of the desert. joseph p. dysart, milwaukee, grace porter, a jewel lost and found. margaret ashmun, poems and short stories. wisconsin humorists among the many purposes authors have for producing literature is that of pure fun or humor. if the writer attempts to reform by laughing at his people, we designate his work as satire. with this type of literature we have nothing to do here, but much literature has been produced within the state that has for its purpose the laughing with the readers. it attempts to amuse through affording a pleasing surprise. the unexpected which engenders this surprise may be that of situation, of ignorance, or of the mingling of sense and nonsense in a perplexing manner. this last means of engendering surprise and the resulting humor grew up quite largely among writers of the middle west during and since the civil war. it is often spoken of as american humor. it may be illustrated by a short selection from edgar wilson nye's comic history of the united states, which will show the point of mingling real historical facts with statements quite ridiculous in many instances. let the reader attempt to determine which statements are historical sense and which are smart or even pure nonsense. "on december , , occurred the tea-party at boston, which must have been a good deal livelier than those of today. the historian regrets that he was not there; he would have tried to be the life of the party. "england had finally so arranged the price of tea that, including the tax, it was cheaper in america than in the old country. this exasperated the patriots, who claimed that they were confronted by a theory and not a condition. at charleston this tea was stored in damp cellars, where it spoiled. new york and philadelphia returned their ship, but the british would not allow any shenanagin, as george iii. so tersely termed it, in boston. "therefore a large party met in faneuil hall and decided that the tea should not be landed. a party made up as indians and, going on board, threw the tea overboard. boston harbor, as far out as the bug light, even today, is said to be carpeted with tea-grounds." wisconsin writers have attempted this type of humor. two of these whose lives have been more or less connected with the history of river falls, are mentioned here. the first of these labored quite as earnestly to cultivate the serious side of literature as he did the humorous. as a result his little volume entitled "lute taylor's chip basket," is filled with even more of the quite serious of life's lessons expressed in poems and essays than of the ludicrous. he mingled both in his book as a real manifestation of his philosophy of life. this is the way he puts it: "fun is cousin to common sense. they live pleasantly together, and none but fools try to divorce them." lute a. taylor was born at norfolk, new york, september , . he came to river falls, wisconsin, in , where he became editor of the river falls journal in june, . he removed his paper to prescott in and called it the prescott journal. in he became one of the publishers and editor-in-chief of the la crosse morning leader. in addition to his newspaper work he held the appointive offices of assistant assessor of internal revenues, assessor of the sixth congressional district of wisconsin, and surveyor of the port of entry at la crosse. he died at the latter place november , . when lute was eight years old his father died, and the boy was thrown upon his own resources quite largely from this early age. the resulting struggle limited his opportunities for school and academy somewhat, but it revealed to him the blessings of persistent effort and gave him a sympathy for the sufferings of mankind. his genial disposition and keen wit made him see the joyous in life, so that between trial and joy he may be said to have been a veritable "vibration between a smile and a tear." since so much of his effort in a literary way was serious, it is thought best to illustrate this as well as his humor. two selections are chosen, both from the chip basket, which in its turn is a selection from his newspaper articles. he had not only the ability to write the extended article, but also the much more rare ability of boiling down into concentrated comparisons some of his richest observations. out of twenty such quotations just these two are given as illustrations: "there is a thread in our thought as there is a pulse in our heart; he who can hold the one knows how to think; and he who can move the other, knows how to feel." "a man may be successful as a loafer, and invest less capital and brains than are required to succeed in any other line." to illustrate a bit of his humor due to the mingling of nonsense and facts a few paragraphs from a letter to the st. paul pioneer concerning the city of chicago are given. lute a. taylor. chicago i like chicago. chicago is a large city. i have noticed there are always many people in a large city. a city doesn't do well without them. some of your readers may not have been to chicago. shall i tell them about it? there are many groceries here, where they sell tea, cod-fish, whiskey, flour, molasses, saleratus and such things, and other groceries where they sell cloth, women's clothes, and fancy 'fixin's' generally. field, leiter and co. have one of the latter. it is in cube form--a block long, a block high, and a block thick. it is bigger than a barn, and tall as a light-house. there are more than forty clerks in it. there are lots of ships here, and horse-cars, but the horses don't ride in them, though, and the water-works. i must tell you about the water-works. they are a big thing. much water is used in chicago. fastidious people sometimes wash in it. chicago has first-class water now, and plenty of it. she has built a tunnel two miles long, and tapped lake michigan that distance from the shore. the water runs down to the home station, and is then lifted up high by steam engines and distributed over the city. the hoisting of it is a good deal like work. i like to see these engines work. any body would. clean, polished, shining monsters, they seem to take a conscious pride in their performance, and the tireless movement of their mighty arms seems almost as resistless as the will of god. but they cost scrips, these piles of polished machinery and throbbing life do; and with that regard for economy which has always characterized me, i think i have discovered a plan by which this work can be done at nearly nominal expense. i only wonder that chicago, with her accredited 'git' and 'gumption,' has not accepted my plan before. my plan is this: at the shore end of the tunnel build a large tank or reservoir, put two first-class whales in it, and let them spout the water up. simple, isn't it? and feasible too, and cheap. you see the whales would furnish their own clothes and lodging, and all the oil they would need for lighting to work nights by, and the city would really be out nothing but their board. whales have always been in the water elevating business, so this would be right in their line. they would work and think it was fun--just as a boy sometimes, but not most always, does--and there is no good reason why their sporting instinct should not be turned to practical. i am confident of the final success of my plan, but the prejudices of people against innovations may retard its operation for some time yet. speaking of water makes me think that chicago, like st. paul, has a river, only not so much so. rivers most always run by large cities, they seem to like to, some way. but this is a brigandish sort of river, black, foul, and murky, and in the dark night it steals sullenly through the city like a prowling fiend. two paragraphs will serve to illustrate lute taylor's ability to meditate upon the common-place and draw therefrom the wholesome lesson. we are choosing his comments upon a "nickname," where he says: the man who has won a nickname and wears it gracefully, has the elements of popularity about him. the same instinct which leads a mother to apply diminutive phrases of endearment to her little ones is a universal instinct, one which we never outgrow, and which continually manifests itself in our form of addressing or speaking of those we love, trust or admire. the man who is known in his neighborhood as "uncle" is never a cold, crabbed or selfish character. he is sure to have a generous heart, and wear a cheerful smile--there is integrity in him which men trust, and warmth around him which little children love to gather, and the term is a title of honor--more to be desired than that of honorable. "bill" nye. edgar wilson nye, known to his readers as "bill nye," was born in shirley, maine, august , . he removed with his parents to wisconsin in . as a mere school boy, he loved to say those things which afforded amusement to his associates and his family. in an article in collier's for april , [ ], his mother tells the following anecdote concerning him when a boy working on the wisconsin farm: the two boys, edgar (bill) and his brother frank had been working in the field, but were separated on their return to the house at noon time. they met again at the pump, when the following conversation ensued: "edgar looked at frank as if surprised, and inquired: 'your name nye?' 'yes,' replied frank, with perfect gravity in order to lead his brother on. 'that's funny; my name's nye, too,' observed edgar. 'where were you born?' 'in maine,' answered frank. 'i was born in maine myself,' said edgar. 'i wouldn't doubt at all if we were some relation. got any brothers?' 'yes, i have two brothers.' 'well, well, this is growing interesting. i've got two brothers myself. i'll bet if the thing were all traced out, there would be some family relationship found. are your brothers older or younger than you?' 'i have one brother older and one younger,' replied frank. 'oh, well, then we can't be any relation after all,' declared edgar with a look of disappointment; 'my brothers are both older.'" while a young man he went to the then territory of wyoming, where he studied law and was admitted to the bar in . he later returned to river falls, wisconsin, where he engaged in newspaper work. some years later he traveled with james whitcomb riley and gave entertainments in which mirth was the essential feature. he later removed from wisconsin and made his home in new york city. he died at asheville, n. c., feb. , . his writings appeared under the following titles: bill nye and boomerang, in ; forty liars, in ; remarks, in ; baled hay and fun, wit and humor, with j. w. riley, in ; comic history of the united states, in ; comic history of england, in . to illustrate his humor due to the mingling of fact and nonsense, we reproduce here a portion of his chapter upon franklin as published in his comic history of the united states. footnote: [ ] reprinted through permission of j. b. lippincott co. benjamin franklin it is considered advisable by the historian at this time to say a word regarding dr. franklin, our fellow-townsman, and a journalist who was the charles a. dana of his time. franklin's memory will remain green when the names of millionaires of to-day are forgotten. but let us proceed to more fully work out the life and labors of this remarkable man. benjamin franklin, formerly of boston, came very near being an only child. if seventeen children had not come to bless the home of benjamin's parents, they would have been childless. think of getting up in the morning and picking out your shoes and stockings from among seventeen pairs of them! and yet benjamin franklin never murmured or repined. he decided to go to sea, and to avoid this he was apprenticed to his brother james, who was a printer. his paper was called the new england courant. it was edited jointly by james and benjamin franklin, and was started to supply a long-felt want. benjamin edited it a part of the time, and james a part of the time. the idea of having two editors was not for the purpose of giving volume to the editorial page, but it was necessary for one to run the paper while the other was in jail. in those days you could not sass the king, and then, when the king came in the office the next day and stopped his paper and took out his ad, put it off on 'our informant' and go right along with the paper. you had to go to jail, while your subscribers wondered why their paper did not come, and the paste soured in the tin dippers in the sanctum, and the circus passed by on the other side. how many of us today, fellow-journalists, would be willing to stay in jail while the lawn festival and the kangaroo came and went? who of all our company would go to a prison-cell for the cause of freedom while a double-column ad of sixteen aggregated circuses, and eleven congresses of ferocious beasts, fierce and fragrant from their native lair, went by us? at the age of seventeen ben got disgusted with his brother, and went to philadelphia and new york, where he got a chance to 'sub' for a few weeks and then got a regular job. franklin was a good printer and finally got to be a foreman. he made an excellent foreman. he knew just how to conduct himself as a foreman so that strangers would think he owned the paper. in , at the age of twenty-four, franklin married, and established the pennsylvania gazette. he was then regarded as a great man, and almost every one took his paper. franklin grew to be a great journalist, and spelled hard words with great fluency. he never tried to be a humorist in any of his newspaper work, and everybody respected him. along about he began to study the habits and construction of lightning, and inserted a local in his paper in which he said that he would be obliged to any of his readers who might notice any new odd specimens of lightning, if they would send them to the gazette office for examination. every time there was a thunderstorm frank would tell the foreman to edit the paper, and, armed with a string and an old doorkey, he would go out on the hills and get enough lightning for a mess. in franklin was made postmaster of the colonies. he made a good postmaster-general, and people say there were fewer mistakes in distributing their mail then than there have ever been since. if a man mailed a letter in those days, ben franklin saw that it went to where it was addressed. franklin frequently went over to england in those days, partly on business and partly to shock the king. he liked to go to the castle with his breeches tucked in his boots, figuratively speaking, and attract a great deal of attention. franklin never put on any frills, but he was not afraid of crowned heads. he did his best to prevent the revolutionary war, but he couldn't do it. patrick henry had said that war was inevitable, and had given it permission to come, and it came. he also went to paris, and got acquainted with a few crowned heads there. they thought a good deal of him in paris, and offered him a corner lot if he would build there and start a paper. they also offered him the county printing; but he said, no, he would have to go back to america or his wife might get uneasy about him. franklin wrote 'poor richard's almanac' in to , and it was republished in england. dr. franklin entered philadelphia eating a loaf of bread and carrying a loaf under each arm, passing beneath the window of the girl whom he afterward gave his hand in marriage. george w. peck one section of this book might be devoted wholly to the work of newspaper men in furthering the progress of literature in the state. several names would deserve mention in such connection,--among them e. d. coe, of whitewater; colonel robert m. crawford, of mineral point; john nagle, of manitowoc; major atkinson, of eau claire; horace rublee and a. m. thomson, of the milwaukee sentinel; bruce pomeroy, of la crosse; amos p. wilder, of the state journal, madison; e. p. petherick, of milwaukee; colonel a. j. watrous, of milwaukee, and two former governors of wisconsin,--w. d. hoard, of fort atkinson, and george w. peck, of milwaukee, besides mr. nye and mr. taylor, mentioned above. mr. peck was born in new york in , but he has lived in wisconsin since . he has been connected with newspapers at whitewater, jefferson, la crosse, and milwaukee. he founded the "sun" at la crosse in , and later removed it to milwaukee, where he called it "peck's sun." at one time he was unquestionably the best-known writer in wisconsin, and the best-known wisconsin writer throughout the country, which fame came to him through his "peck's bad boy" sketches. he was also the author of "peck's compendium of fun," "peck's sunshine," together with almost countless sketches which usually were in some way connected with the mischief-loving, mirth-provoking "bad boy." neighbors of the pecks in whitewater tend, by their recollection of the former governor, to confirm the suspicion that not all of "peck's bad boy" was fiction, and that the author himself may have played a not inconsiderable part in the scenes therein depicted. mr. peck's fellow-citizens in milwaukee honored him with the mayoralty, and the citizens of the state made him governor from to . he is now, january, , a familiar figure to milwaukee citizens. he has a keen memory for his old friends, and citizens, both young and old, who can remind him of some of his old neighbors in whitewater or jefferson are always sure of a pleasant chat with him. trouble about reading a newspaper from "peck's boss book," p. . copyright, , by w. b. conkey co. a man came into the "sun" office on tuesday with a black eye, a strip of court plaster across his cheek, one arm in a sling, and as he leaned on a crutch and wiped the perspiration away from around a lump on his forehead, with a red cotton handkerchief, he asked if the editor was in. we noticed that there was quite a healthy smell of stock-yards about the visitor, but thinking that in his crippled condition we could probably whip him, if worst came to worst, we admitted that we were in. "well, i want to stop my paper," said he, as he sat down on one edge of a chair, as though it might hurt. "scratch my name right off. you are responsible for my condition." thinking the man might have been taking our advice to deaf men, to always walk on a railroad track if they could find one, we were preparing to scratch him off without any argument, believing that he was a man who knew when he had enough, when he spoke up as follows: "the amount of it is this. i live out in jefferson county, and i come in on the new northwestern road, just to get recreation. i am a farmer, and keep cows. i recently read an article in your paper about a dairymen's convention, where one of the mottoes over the door was, 'treat your cow as you would a lady,' and the article said it was contended by our best dairymen that a cow, treated in a polite, gentlemanly manner, as though she was a companion, would give twice as much milk. the plan seemed feasible to me. i had been a hard man with stock, and thought maybe that was one reason my cows always dried up when butter was forty cents a pound, and gave plenty of milk when butter was only worth fifteen cents a pound. i decided to adopt your plan, and treat a cow as i would a lady. i had a brindle cow that never had been very much mashed on me, and i decided to commence on her, and the next morning after i read your devilish paper, i put on my sunday suit and a white plug hat that i bought the year greeley ran for president, and went to the barn to milk. i noticed the old cow seemed to be bashful and frightened, but taking off my hat and bowing politely, i said, 'madame, excuse the seeming impropriety of the request, but will you do me the favor to hoist?' at the same time i tapped her gently on the flank with my plug hat, and putting the tin pail on the floor under her, i sat down on the milking stool." "did she hoist?" said we, rather anxious to know how the advice of president smith, of sheboygan, the great dairyman, had worked. "did she hoist? well, look at me, and see if you think she hoisted. say, i tell you now in confidence, and i don't want it repeated, but that cow raised right up and kicked me with all four feet, switched me with her tail, and hooked me with both horns, all at once; and when i got up out of the bedding in the stall, and dug my hat out of the manger, and the milking-stool out from under me, and began to maul that cow, i forgot all about the proper treatment of horned cattle. why, she fairly galloped over me, and i never want to read your old paper again." we tried to explain to him that the advice did not apply to brindle cows at all, but he hobbled out, the maddest man that ever asked a cow to hoist in diplomatic language. william f. kirk william f. kirk is no longer a resident of milwaukee, he having been called to a larger sphere of work on new york papers. but for a period of some eight or ten years he endeared himself to the readers of the milwaukee sentinel by his daily column. in it he had many quips which reminded one of eugene field in his "sharps and flats." but perhaps the most popular type of his work appeared in his "norsk nightingale" sketches, of which one is here given. a psalm of life from the "norsk nightingale, being the lyrics of a 'lumber yack'," by william f. kirk. copyright, , by small, maynard & co. (inc.). tal me not, yu knocking fallers, life ban only empty dream; dar ban planty fun, ay tal yu, ef yu try yohn yohnson's scheme. yohn ban yust a section foreman, vorking hard vay up on soo; he ban yust so glad in morning as ven all his vork ban tru. "vork," says yohn, "ban vat yu mak it, ef yu tenk das vork ban hard, yu skol having planty headaches,-- yes, yu bet yure life, old pard; but ay alvays yerk my coat off, grab my shovel and my pick, and dis yob ant seem lak hard von ef ay du it purty qvick." yohn ban foreman over fallers. he ant have to vork, yu see; but, yu bet, he ant no loafer, and he yust digs in, by yee! "listen, olaf," he skol tal me, "making living ant no trick, and the hardest yob ban easy ef you only du it qvick!" let us den be op and yumping, always glad to plow tru drift; ven our vork ban done, den let us give some oder faller lift. den, ay bet yu, old saint peter, he skol tenk ve're purty slick; ve can go tru gates, ay bet yu, ef ve only du it qvick! index of authors and groups. adams, mary m. anderson, rasmus b. baer, libbie c. baker, ray stannard - birge, e. a. blaisdell, j. a. bond, leda brayley, berton brown, neal brown, s. w. carlton, carrie centers of literary activity , , chamberlain, mrs. chase, wilfred e. coe, e. d. comstock, george c. davidson, j. n. thomas, herbert dickinson ferber, edna flower, elliott gale, zona garland, hamlin grayson, david griswold, hattie t. henderson, j. r. hoard, w. d. humorists jones, howard m. jones, jenkin lloyd king, general charles kirk, william f. lathrop, harry leonard, william e. manville, marion merrick, george b. mcneil, everett moore, ada f. muir, john nagle, john neidig, william j. newspaper men nye, edgar w. (bill) peck, george w. plantz, myra g. pyre, j. f. a. reinsch, paul s. rexford, eben e. ross, edward a. salisbury, albert and rollin sanford, albert h. schurz, carl sheriff, c. f. showerman, grant stevens point as a center stewart, charles d. taylor, lute teeple, george l. thompson, a. m. thwaites, reuben gold turner, frederick j. university as a center, the , university group, the van hise, charles r. webster, joseph p. wheeler, cora k. whitewater as a center , whitney, j. h. wilcox, ella wheeler willsie, honoré winslow, horatio writers of local distinction writers not represented * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious typographical errors were repaired. otherwise, period spellings, grammatical uses and hyphenation inconsistencies were retained. formatting varied throughout the original. this was standardized. author portraits have been relocated between their biographical introductions and the beginning of their writings. some poetry stanza breaks were inconsistent in the original (for example, "in the land of fancy"); retained. old style ellipses (* * *) have been converted to standard ellipses. p. , "which are you?" replaced ending period with question mark. p. , "clear in the light of the moon"; original reads "noon." p. , "p. "; verified elsewhere and retained. some sources reference "p. - ." p. , a shorter than normal thought break was in the original; retained. p. , under "other wisconsin writers"; both "charlotta perry" and "carlotta perry's" are present in the original; retained. p. , "bill" nye; original had no footnote marker. the marker for footnote was added by the transcriber. p. , "nightingale sketches, of which one is here given," originally was placed between "eight or ten years he en-" and "deared himself to the readers." the misplaced line has been repositioned correctly. p. , index; "thomas, herbert dickinson" was listed in the "d"s in the original; retained. wau-bun, the early day in the northwest. by mrs. john h. kinzie, of chicago. "if we but knew the exact meaning of the word 'wau-bun,' we should be happy."--_critic_. "wau-bun--the dawn--the break of day."--_ojibeway vocabulary_. * * * * * philadelphia preface. every work partaking of the nature of an autobiography is supposed to demand an apology to the public. to refuse such a tribute, would be to recognize the justice of the charge, so often brought against our countrymen--of a too great willingness to be made acquainted with the domestic history and private affairs of their neighbors. it is, doubtless, to refute this calumny that we find travellers, for the most part, modestly offering some such form of explanation as this, to the reader: "that the matter laid before him was, in the first place, simply letters to friends, never designed to be submitted to other eyes, and only brought forward now at the solicitation of wiser judges than the author himself." no such plea can, in the present instance, be offered. the record of events in which the writer had herself no share, was preserved in compliance with the suggestion of a revered relative, whose name often appears in the following pages. "my child," she would say, "write these things down, as i tell them to you. hereafter our children, and even strangers, will feel interested in hearing the story of our early lives and sufferings." and it is a matter of no small regret and self-reproach, that much, very much, thus narrated was, through negligence, or a spirit of procrastination, suffered to pass unrecorded. with regard to the pictures of domestic life and experience (preserved, as will be seen, in journals, letters, and otherwise), it is true their publication might have been deferred until the writer had passed away from the scene of action; and such, it was supposed, would have been their lot--that they would only have been dragged forth hereafter, to show to a succeeding generation what "the early day" of our western homes had been. it never entered the anticipations of the most sanguine that the march of improvement and prosperity would, in less than a quarter of a century, have so obliterated the traces of "the first beginning," that a vast and intelligent multitude would be crying out for information in regard to the early settlement of this portion of our country, which so few are left to furnish. an opinion has been expressed, that a comparison of the present times with those that are past, would enable our young people, emigrating from their luxurious homes at "the east," to bear, in a spirit of patience and contentment, the slight privations and hardships they are at this day called to meet with. if, in one instance, this should be the case, the writer may well feel happy to have incurred even the charge of egotism, in giving thus much of her own history. it may be objected that all that is strictly personal, might have been more modestly put forth under the name of a third person; or that the events themselves and the scenes might have been described, while those participating in them might have been kept more in the background. in the first case, the narrative would have lost its air of truth and reality--in the second, the experiment would merely have been tried of dressing up a theatre for representation, and omitting the actors. some who read the following sketches may be inclined to believe that a residence among our native brethren and an attachment growing out of our peculiar relation to them, have exaggerated our sympathies, and our sense of the wrongs they have received at the hands of the whites. this is not the place to discuss that point. there is a tribunal at which man shall be judged for that which he has meted out to his fellow-man. may our countrymen take heed that their legislation shall never unfit them to appear "with joy, and not with grief," before that tribunal! chicago, july, . contents chapter i. departure from detroit chapter ii. michilimackinac--american fur company--indian trade--mission school--point st. ignace chapter iii. arrival at green bay--mrs. arnot--general root--political dispatches--a summerset--shanty-town--m. rolette--indian morning song--mr. cadle's mission--party at miss doty's--misses grignon--mrs. baird's party--mrs. beall chapter iv. arrangements for travelling--fox river--judge doty--judge réaume--m. boilvin--canadian voyageurs: their songs--the kakalin--wish-tay-yun--rev. eleazar williams--passage through the rapids--grande chûte--krissman chapter v. beautiful encampment--winnebago lake--miss four-legs--garlic island--wild rice chapter vi. breakfast at betty more's--judge law--fastidiousness; what came of it chapter vii. butte des morts--french cognomens--serpentine course of fox river--lake puckaway--lac de boeuf--fort winnebago. chapter viii. major and mrs. twiggs--a davis--an indian funeral--conjugal affliction--indian chiefs; talk-english--the wild-cat--the dandy chapter ix. housekeeping--the first dinner chapter x. indian payment--pawnee blanc--the washington woman--raising funds chapter xi. louisa--garrison life--dr. newhall--affliction--domestic accommodations--ephraim--new-year's day--native custom--day-kau-ray's views of education--captain harney's mince-pie chapter xii. lizzie twiggs--preparation for a journey--the regimental tailor chapter xiii. eparture from fort winnebago--duck creek--upset in a canoe--pillon--encamping in winter--four lakes--indian encampment--blue mound--morrison's--a tennessee woman chapter xiv. rev. mr. kent--losing one's way--a tent blown down--discovery of a fence--hamilton's diggings--frontier housekeeping--wm. s. hamilton--a miner--hard riding--kellogg's grove chapter xv. rock river--- dixon's--john ogie--missing the trail--hours of trouble--famine in the camp--relief chapter xvi. a pottowattamie lodge--a tempest--piché's--hawley's--the du page--mr. dogherty--the aux plaines--mrs. lawton--wolf point--chicago chapter xvii. fort dearborn--chicago in --first settlement of chicago--john kinzie, sen.---fate of george forsyth--trading posts--canadian voyageurs--m. st. jean--louis la liberté chapter xviii. massacre at chicago chapter xix. massacre, continued--mrs. helm--ensign ronan--captain wells--mrs. holt--mrs. heald--the sau-ga-nash--sergeant griffith--mrs. burns--black partridge and mrs. lee--nau-non-gee and sergeant hays chapter xx. treatment of american prisoners by the british--captivity of mr. kinzie--battle on lake erie--cruelty of general proctor's troops--general harrison--rebuilding of fort dearborn--red bird--a humorous incident--cession of the territory around chicago chapter xxi. severe spring weather--pistol-firing--milk punch--a sermon--pre-emption to "kinzie's addition"--liberal sentiments chapter xxii. the captives chapter xxiii. colonel mckillip--second-sight--ball at hickory creek--arrival of the "napoleon"--troubles of embarkation chapter xxiv. departure for port winnebago--a frightened indian--encampment at dunkley's grove--horses lost--getting mired--an ague cured by a rattlesnake--crystal lake--story of the little rail chapter xxv. return journey, continued--soldiers' encampment--big-foot lake--village of maunk-suck--a young gallant--climbing--mountain-passes--turtle creek--kosh-ko-nong--crossing a marsh--twenty-mile prairie--hastings's woods--duck creek--brunet--home chapter xxvi. the agency--the blacksmith's house--building a kitchen--four-legs, the dandy--indian views of civilization--efforts of m. mazzuchelli--charlotte chapter xxvii. the cut-nose--the fawn--visit of white crow--parting with friends--krissman--louisa again--the sunday-school chapter xxviii. plante--removal--domestic inconveniences--indian presents--grandmother day-kau-ray--indian customs--indian dances--the medicine-dance--indian graves--old boilvin's wake chapter xxix. indian tales--story of the red fox chapter xxx. story of shee-shee-banze chapter xxxi. visit to green bay--disappointment--return journey--knaggs's--blind indian--ma-zhee-gaw-gaw swamp--bellefontaine chapter xxxii. commencement of the sauk war--winnebago council--crély--follett--bravery--the little elk--an alarm--man-eater and his party--an exciting dance chapter xxxiii. fleeing from the enemy--mâtâ--old smoker--meeting with menomonees--raising the wind--garlic island--winnebago rapids--the waubanakees--thunder-storm--vitelle--guardapié--fort howard chapter xxxiv. panic at green bay--tidings of cholera--green bay flies--doyle, the murderer--death of lieutenant foster--a hardened criminal--good news from the seat of war--departure for home--shipwreck at the grand chûte--a wet encampment--an unexpected arrival--reinforcement of volunteers--la grosse américaine--arrival at home chapter xxxv. conclusion of the war--treaty at rock island--cholera among the troops--wau-kaun-kah--wild-cat's frolic at the mee-kan--surrender of the winnebago prisoners chapter xxxvi. delay in the annual payment--scalp-dances--groundless alarm--arrival of governor porter--payment--escape of the prisoners--neighbors lost--reappearance--robineau--bellaire chapter xxxvii. agathe--"kinzie's addition"--tomah--indian acuteness--indian simplicity chapter xxxviii. famine--day-kau-ray's daughter--noble resolution of a chief--bread for the hungry--rev. mr. kent--an escaped prisoner--the cut-nose again--leave-taking with our red children--departure from fort winnebago appendix the "early day" in the northwest. chapter i. departure from detroit. it was on a dark, rainy evening in the month of september, , that we went on board the steamer "henry clay," to take passage for green bay. all our friends in detroit had congratulated us upon our good fortune in being spared the voyage in one of the little schooners which at this time afforded the ordinary means of communication with the few and distant settlements on lakes huron and michigan. each one had some experience to relate of his own or of his friends' mischances in these precarious journeys--long detentions on the st. clair flats--furious head-winds off thunder bay, or interminable calms at mackinac or the manitous. that which most enhanced our sense of peculiar good luck, was the true story of one of our relatives having left detroit in the month of june and reached chicago in the september following, having been actually three months in performing what is sometimes accomplished by even a sail-vessel in four days. but the certainty of encountering similar misadventures would have weighed little with me. i was now to visit, nay, more, to become a resident of that land which had, for long years, been to me a region of romance. since the time when, as a child, my highest delight had been in the letters of a dear relative, describing to me his home and mode of life in the "indian country," and still later, in his felicitous narration of a tour with general cass, in , to the sources of the mississippi--nay, even earlier, in the days when i stood at my teacher's knee, and spelled out the long word mich-i-li-mack-i-nac, that distant land, with its vast lakes, its boundless prairies, and its mighty forests, had possessed a wonderful charm for my imagination. now i was to see it!--it was to be my home! our ride to the quay, through the dark by-ways, in a cart, the only vehicle which at that day could navigate the muddy, unpaved streets of detroit, was a theme for much merriment, and not less so, our descent of the narrow, perpendicular stair-way by which we reached the little apartment called the ladies' cabin. we were highly delighted with the accommodations, which, by comparison, seemed the very climax of comfort and convenience; more especially as the occupants of the cabin consisted, beside myself, of but a lady and two little girls. nothing could exceed the pleasantness of our trip for the first twenty-four hours. there were some officers, old friends, among the passengers. we had plenty of books. the gentlemen read aloud occasionally, admired the solitary magnificence of the scenery around us, the primeval woods, or the vast expanse of water unenlivened by a single sail, and then betook themselves to their cigar, or their game of euchre, to while away the hours. for a time the passage over thunder bay was delightful, but, alas! it was not destined, in our favor, to belie its name. a storm came on, fast and furious--what was worse, it was of long duration. the pitching and rolling of the little boat, the closeness, and even the sea-sickness, we bore as became us. they were what we had expected, and were prepared for. but a new feature of discomfort appeared, which almost upset our philosophy. the rain, which fell in torrents, soon made its way through every seam and pore of deck or moulding. down the stair-way, through the joints and crevices, it came, saturating first the carpet, then the bedding, until, finally, we were completely driven, "by stress of weather," into the gentlemen's cabin. way was made for us very gallantly, and every provision resorted to for our comfort, and we were congratulating ourselves on having found a haven in our distress, when, lo! the seams above opened, and down upon our devoted heads poured such a flood, that even umbrellas were an insufficient protection. there was nothing left for the ladies and children but to betake ourselves to the berths, which, in this apartment, fortunately remained dry; and here we continued ensconced the livelong day. our dinner was served up to us on our pillows. the gentlemen chose the dryest spots, raised their umbrellas, and sat under them, telling amusing anecdotes, and saying funny things to cheer us, until the rain ceased, and at nine o'clock in the evening we were gladdened by the intelligence that we had reached the pier at mackinac. we were received with the most affectionate cordiality by mr. and mrs. robert stuart, at whose hospitable mansion we had been for some days expected. the repose and comfort of an asylum like this, can be best appreciated by those who have reached it after a tossing and drenching such as ours had been. a bright, warm fire, and countenances beaming with kindest interest, dispelled all sensations of fatigue or annoyance. after a season of pleasant conversation, the servants were assembled, the chapter of god's word was solemnly read, the hymn chanted, the prayer of praise and thanksgiving offered, and we were conducted to our place of repose. it is not my purpose here to attempt a portrait of those noble friends whom i thus met for the first time. to an abler pen than mine should be assigned the honor of writing the biography of robert stuart. all who have enjoyed the happiness of his acquaintance, or, still more, a sojourn under his hospitable roof, will carry with them to their latest hour the impression of his noble bearing, his genial humor, his untiring benevolence, his upright, uncompromising adherence to principle, his ardent philanthropy, his noble disinterestedness. irving in his "astoria," and franchere in his "narrative," give many striking traits of his early character, together with events of his history of a thrilling and romantic interest, but both have left the most valuable portion unsaid, his after-life, namely, as a christian gentleman. of his beloved partner, who still survives him, mourning on her bereaved and solitary pilgrimage, yet cheered by the recollection of her long and useful course as a "mother in israel," we will say no more than to offer the incense of loving hearts, and prayers for the best blessings from her father in heaven. chapter ii michilimackinac. michilimackinac! that gem of the lakes! how bright and beautiful it looked as we walked abroad on the following morning! the rain had passed away, but had left all things glittering in the light of the sun as it rose up over the waters of lake huron, far away to the east. before us was the lovely bay, scarcely yet tranquil after the storm, but dotted with canoes and the boats of the fishermen already getting out their nets for the trout and whitefish, those treasures of the deep. along the beach were scattered the wigwams or lodges of the ottawas who had come to the island to trade. the inmates came forth to gaze upon us. a shout of welcome was sent forth, as they recognized _shaw-nee-aw-kee,_ who, from a seven years' residence among them, was well known to each individual. a shake of the hand, and an emphatic "_bon-jour_--_bon-jour_," is the customary salutation between the indian and the white man. "do the indians speak french?" i inquired of my husband. "no; this is a fashion they have learned of the french traders during many years of intercourse." not less hearty was the greeting of each canadian _engagé_, as he trotted forward to pay his respects to "monsieur john," and to utter a long string of felicitations, in a most incomprehensible _patois_. i was forced to take for granted all the good wishes showered upon "madame john," of which i could comprehend nothing but the hope that i should be happy and contented in my "_vie sauvage_." the object of our early walk was to visit the mission-house and school which had been some few years previously established at this place by the presbyterian board of missions. it was an object of especial interest to mr. and mrs. stuart, and its flourishing condition at this period, and the prospects of extensive future usefulness it held out, might well gladden their philanthropic hearts. they had lived many years on the island, and had witnessed its transformation, through god's blessing on christian efforts, from a worldly, dissipated community to one of which it might almost be said, "religion was every man's business." this mission establishment was the beloved child and the common centre of interest of the few protestant families clustered around it. through the zeal and good management of mr. and mrs. ferry, and the fostering encouragement of the congregation, the school was in great repute, and it was pleasant to observe the effect of mental and religious culture in subduing the mischievous, tricky propensities of the half-breed, and rousing the stolid apathy of the genuine indian. these were the palmy days of mackinac. as the head-quarters of the american fur company, and the entrepôt of the whole northwest, all the trade in supplies and goods on the one hand, and in furs and products of the indian country on the other, was in the hands of the parent establishment or its numerous outposts scattered along lakes superior and michigan, the mississippi, or through still more distant regions. probably few are ignorant of the fact, that all the indian tribes, with the exception of the miamis and the wyandots, had, since the transfer of the old french possessions to the british crown, maintained a firm alliance with the latter. the independence achieved by the united states did not alter the policy of the natives, nor did our government succeed in winning or purchasing their friendship. great britain, it is true, bid high to retain them. every year the leading men of the chippewas, ottawas, pottowattamies, menomonees, winnebagoes, sauks, and foxes, and even still more remote tribes, journeyed from their distant homes to fort malden in upper canada, to receive their annual amount of presents from their great father across the water. it was a master-policy thus to keep them in pay, and had enabled those who practised it to do fearful execution through the aid of such allies in the last war between the two countries. the presents they thus received were of considerable value, consisting of blankets, broadcloths or _strouding_, calicoes, guns, kettles, traps, silver-works (comprising arm-bands, bracelets, brooches; and ear-bobs), looking-glasses, combs, and various other trinkets distributed with no niggardly hand. the magazines and store-houses of the fur company at mackinac were the resort of all the upper tribes for the sale of their commodities, and the purchase of all such articles as they had need of, including those above enumerated, and also ammunition, which, as well as money and liquor, their british friends very commendably omitted to furnish them. besides their furs, various in kind and often of great value--beaver, otter, marten, mink, silver-gray and red fox, wolf, bear, and wild-cat, musk-rat, and smoked deer-skins--the indians brought for trade maple-sugar in abundance, considerable quantities of both indian corn and _petit-blé_,[ ] beans and the _folles avoines_,[ ] or wild rice; while the squaws added to their quota of merchandise a contribution in the form of moccasins, hunting-pouches, mococks, or little boxes of birch-bark embroidered with porcupine-quills and filled with maple-sugar, mats of a neat and durable fabric, and toy-models of indian cradles, snow-shoes, canoes, etc., etc. it was no unusual thing, at this period, to see a hundred or more canoes of indians at once approaching the island, laden with their articles of traffic; and if to these we add the squadrons of large mackinac boats constantly arriving from the outposts, with the furs, peltries, and buffalo-robes collected by the distant traders, some idea may be formed of the extensive operations and important position of the american fur company, as well as of the vast circle of human beings either immediately or remotely connected with it. it is no wonder that the philanthropic mind, surveying these, races of uncultivated heathen, should stretch forward to the time when, through an unwearied devotion of the white man's energies, and an untiring sacrifice of self and fortune, his red brethren might rise in the scale of social civilization--when education and christianity should go hand in hand, to make "the wilderness blossom as the rose." little did the noble souls at that day rejoicing in the success of their labors at mackinac, anticipate that in less than a quarter of a century there would remain of all these numerous tribes but a few scattered bands, squalid, degraded, with scarce a vestige remaining of their former lofty character--their lands cajoled or wrested from them, the graves of their fathers turned up by the ploughshare--themselves chased farther and farther towards the setting sun, until they were literally grudged a resting-place on the face of the earth! our visit to the mission-school was of short duration, for the henry clay was to leave at two o'clock, and in the mean time we were to see what we could of the village and its environs, and after that dine with mr. mitchell, an old friend of my husband. as we walked leisurely along over the white, gravelly road, many of the residences of the old inhabitants were pointed out to me. there was the dwelling of madame laframboise, an ottawa woman, whose husband had taught her to read and write, and who had ever after continued to use the knowledge she had acquired for the instruction and improvement of the youth among her own people. it was her custom to receive a class of young pupils daily at her house, that she might give them lessons in the branches mentioned, and also in the principles of the roman catholic religion, to which she was deeply devoted. she was a woman of a vast deal of energy and enterprise--of a tall and commanding figure, and most dignified deportment. after the death of her husband, who was killed while away at his trading-post by a winnebago named _white ox_, she was accustomed to visit herself the trading-posts, superintend the clerks and engagés, and satisfy herself that the business was carried on in a regular and profitable manner. the agency-house, with its unusual luxuries of piazza and gardens, was situated at the foot of the hill on which the fort was built. it was a lovely spot, notwithstanding the stunted and dwarfish appearance of all cultivated vegetation in this cold northern latitude. the collection of rickety, primitive-looking buildings, occupied by the officials of the fur company, reflected no great credit on the architectural skill of my husband, who had superintended their construction, he told me, when little more than a boy. there were, besides these, the residences of the dousmans, the abbotts, the biddles, the drews, and the lashleys, stretching away along the base of the beautiful hill, crowned with the white walls and buildings of the fort, the ascent to which was so steep that on the precipitous face nearest the beach staircases were built by which to mount from below. my head ached intensely, the effect of the motion of the boat on the previous day, but i did not like to give up to it; so, after i had been shown all that could be seen of the little settlement in the short time allowed us, we repaired to mr. mitchell's. we were received by mrs. m., an extremely pretty, delicate woman, part french and part sioux, whose early life had been passed at prairie du chien, on the mississippi. she had been a great belle among the young officers at fort crawford; so much so, indeed, that the suicide of the post-surgeon was attributed to an unsuccessful attachment he had conceived for her. i was greatly struck with her soft and gentle manners, and the musical intonation of her voice, which i soon learned was a distinguishing peculiarity of those women in whom are united the french and native blood. a lady, then upon a visit to the mission, was of the company. she insisted on my lying down upon the sofa, and ministered most kindly to my suffering head. as she sat by my side, and expatiated upon the new sphere opening before me, she inquired: "do you not realize very strongly the entire deprivation of religious privileges you will be obliged to suffer in your distant home?" "the deprivation," said i, "will doubtless be great, but not _entire_; for i shall have my prayer-book, and, though destitute of a church, we need not be without a _mode_ of worship." how often afterwards, when cheered by the consolations of that precious book in the midst of the lonely wilderness, did i remember this conversation, and bless god that i could never, while retaining it, be without "religious privileges." we had not yet left the dinner-table, when the bell of the little steamer sounded to summon us on board, and we bade a hurried farewell to all our kind friends, bearing with us their hearty wishes for a safe and prosperous voyage. a finer sight can scarcely be imagined than mackinac, from the water. as we steamed away from the shore, the view came full upon us--the sloping beach with the scattered wigwams, and canoes drawn up here and there--the irregular, quaint-looking houses--the white walls of the fort, and, beyond, one eminence still more lofty crowned with the remains of old fort holmes. the whole picture completed, showed the perfect outline that had given the island its original indian name, _mich-i-li-mack-i-nac_, the big turtle. then those pure, living waters, in whose depths the fish might be seen gliding and darting to and fro; whose clearness is such that an object dropped to the bottom may be discerned at the depth of fifty or sixty feet, a dollar lying far down on its green bed, looking no larger than a half dime! i could hardly wonder at the enthusiastic lady who exclaimed: "oh! i could wish to be drowned in these pure, beautiful waters!" as we passed the extreme western point of the island, my husband pointed out to me, far away to the northwest, a promontory which he told me was point st. ignace. it possessed great historic interest, as one of the earliest white settlements on this continent. the jesuit missionaries had established here a church and school as early as , the same year in which a white settlement was made at st. augustine, in florida, and one year before the founding of jamestown, virginia. all that remains of the enterprises of these devoted men, is the remembrance of their labors, perpetuated, in most instances, only by the names of the spots which witnessed their efforts of love in behalf of their savage brethren. the little french church at sandwich, opposite detroit, alone is left, a witness of the zeal and self-sacrifice of these pioneers of christianity. passing "old mackinac," on the main land, which forms the southern border of the straits, we soon came out into the broad waters of lake michigan. every traveller, and every reader of our history, is familiar with the incidents connected with the taking of the old fort by the indians, in the days of pontiac. how, by means of a game of ball, played in an apparently friendly spirit outside the walls, and of which the officers and soldiers had come forth to be spectators, the ball was dexterously tossed over the wall, and the savages rushing in, under pretext of finding it, soon got possession and massacred the garrison. the little indian village of l'arbre croche gleamed far away south, in the light of the setting sun. with that exception, there was no sign of living habitation along that vast and wooded shore. the gigantic forest-trees, and here and there the little glades of prairie opening to the water, showed a landscape that would have gladdened the eye of the agriculturist, with its promise of fertility; but it was evidently untrodden by the foot of man, and we left it, in its solitude, as we took our course westward across the waters. the rainy and gusty weather, so incident to the equinoctial season, overtook us again before we reached the mouth of green bay, and kept us company until the night of our arrival upon the flats, about three miles below the settlement. here the little steamer grounded "fast and hard." as almost every one preferred braving the elements to remaining cooped up in the quarters we had occupied for the past week, we decided to trust ourselves to the little boat, spite of wind, and rain, and darkness, and in due time we reached the shore. chapter iii. green bay. our arrival at green bay was at an unfortunate moment. it was the time of a treaty between the united states government and the menomonees and waubanakees. consequently, not only the commissioners of the treaty, with their clerks and officials, but traders, claimants, travellers, and idlers innumerable were upon the ground. most of these were congregated in the only hotel the place afforded. this was a tolerably-sized house near the river-side, and as we entered the long dining-room, cold and dripping from the open boat, we were infinitely amused at the motley assemblage it contained. various groups were seated around. new comers, like ourselves, stood here and there, for there were not seats enough to accommodate all who sought entertainment. the landlord sat calm and indifferent, his hands in his pockets, exhibiting all the phlegm of a pennsylvania dutchman. his fat, notable spouse was trotting round, now stopping to scold about some one who, "burn his skin!" had fallen short in his duty; now laughing good-humoredly until her sides shook, at some witticism addressed to her. she welcomed us very cordially, but to our inquiry, "can you accommodate us?" her reply was, "not i. i have got twice as many people now as i know what to do with. i have had to turn my own family out of their quarters, what with the commissioners and the lot of folks that has come in upon us." "what are we to do, then? it is too late and stormy to go up to shanty-town to seek for lodgings." "well, sit you down and take your supper, and we will see what we can do." and she actually did contrive to find a little nook, in which we were glad to take refuge from the multitudes around us. a slight board partition separated us from the apartment occupied by general root, of new york, one of the commissioners of the treaty. the steamer in which we came had brought the mail, at that day a rare blessing to the distant settlements. the opening and reading of all the dispatches, which the general received about bed-time, had, of course, to be gone through with, before he could retire to rest. his eyes being weak, his secretaries were employed to read the communications. he was a little deaf withal, and through the slight division between the two apartments the contents of the letters, and his comments upon them, were unpleasantly audible, as he continually admonished his secretary to raise his voice. "what is that, walter? read that over again." in vain we coughed and hemmed, and knocked over sundry pieces of furniture. they were too deeply interested to hear aught that passed around them, and if we had been politicians we should have had all the secrets of the _working-men's party_ at our disposal, out of which to have made capital. the next morning it was still rain! rain! nothing but rain! in spite of it, however, the gentlemen would take a small boat to row to the steamer, to bring up the luggage, not the least important part of that which appertained to us being sundry boxes of silver for paying the annuities to the winnebagoes at the portage. i went out with some others of the company upon the piazza, to witness their departure. a gentleman pointed out to me fort howard, on a projecting point of the opposite shore, about three-quarters of a mile distant--the old barracks, the picketed inclosure, the walls, all looking quaint, and, considering their modern erection, really ancient and venerable. presently we turned our attention to the boat, which had by this time gained the middle of the river. one of the passengers was standing up in the stern, apparently giving some directions. "that is rather a venturesome fellow," remarked one; "if he is not careful he will lose his balance." and at this moment we saw him actually perform a summerset backward, and disappear in the water. "oh!" cried i, "he will be drowned!" the gentlemen laughed. "no, there he is; they are helping him in again." the course of the boat was immediately changed, and the party returned to the shore. it was not until one disembarked and came dripping and laughing towards me, that i recognized him as my own peculiar property. he was pleased to treat the matter as a joke, but i thought it rather a sad beginning of western experience. he suffered himself to be persuaded to intrust the care of his effects to his friends, and having changed his dress, prepared to remain quietly with me, when just at this moment a vehicle drove up to the door, and we recognized the pleasant, familiar face of our old friend, judge doty. he had received the news of our arrival, and had come to take us at once to his hospitable mansion. we were only too happy to gather together our bags and travelling-baskets and accompany him without farther ceremony. our drive took us first along the edge of navarino, next through shanty-town (the latter a far more appropriate name than the former), amid mud and mire, over bad roads, and up and down hilly, break-neck places, until we reached the little brick dwelling of our friends. mrs. doty received us with such true, sisterly kindness, and everything seemed so full of welcome, that we soon felt ourselves at home. we found that, expecting our arrival, invitations had already been prepared to assemble the whole circle of green bay society to meet us at an evening party--this, in a new country, being the established mode of doing honor to guests or strangers. we learned, upon inquiry, that captain harney, who had kindly offered to come with a boat and crew of soldiers from fort winnebago, to convey us to that place, our destined home, had not yet arrived; we therefore felt at liberty to make arrangements for a few days of social enjoyment at "the bay." it was pleasant to people, secluded in such a degree from the world at large, to bear all the news we had brought--all the particulars of life and manners--the thousand little items that the newspapers of that day did not dream of furnishing--the fashions, and that general gossip, in short, which a lady is erroneously supposed more _au fait_ of, than a gentleman. i well remember that, in giving and receiving information, the day passed in a pretty uninterrupted stream of communication. all the party except myself had made the journey, or rather voyage, up the fox river and down the wisconsin to the mississippi. there were plenty of anecdotes of a certain trip performed by the three, in company with a french trader and his two sisters, then making their debut as western travellers. the manner in which mademoiselle julie would borrow, without leave, a fine damask napkin or two, to wipe out the ducks in preparation for cooking--the difficulty of persuading either of the sisters of the propriety of washing and rinsing their table apparatus nicely before packing it away in the mess-basket, the consequence of which was, that another nice napkin must be stealthily whisked out, to wipe the dishes when the hour for meals arrived--the fun of the young gentleman in hunting up his stray articles, thus misappropriated, from the nooks and corners of the boat, tying them with a cord, and hanging them over the stern, to make their way down the wisconsin to prairie du chien. then there was a capital story of m. rolette himself. at one point on the route (i think in crossing winnebago lake) the travellers met one of the company's boats on its way to green bay for supplies. m. rolette was one of the agents of the company, and the people in the boat were his employés. of course after an absence of some weeks from home, the meeting on these lonely waters and the exchanging of news was an occasion of great excitement. the boats were stopped--earnest greetings interchanged--question followed question. "_eh bien_--have they finished the new house?" "_oui, monsieur_." "_et la cheminée, fume-t-elle?_" (does the chimney smoke?) "_non, monsieur_." "and the harvest--how is that?" "very fine, indeed." "is the mill at work?" "yes, plenty of water." "how is whip?" (his favorite horse.) "oh! whip is first-rate." everything, in short, about the store, the farm, the business of various descriptions being satisfactorily gone over, there was no occasion for farther delay. it was time to proceed. "_eh bien--adieu! bon voyage!_" "_arrachez, mes gens!_" (go ahead, men!) then suddenly--"_arrêtez! arrêtez!_" (stop, stop!) "_comment se portent madame rolette et les enfans?_" (how are mrs. rolette and the children?) * * * * * this day, with its excitement, was at length over, and we retired to our rest, thankful that we had not general root and his secretary close to our bed's head, with their budget of political news. my slumbers were not destined, however, to be quite undisturbed. i was awakened, at the first slight peep of dawn, by a sound from an apartment beneath our own--a plaintive, monotonous chant, rising and then falling in a sort of mournful cadence. it seemed to me a wail of something unearthly--so wild--so strange--so unaccountable. in terror i awoke my husband, who reassured me by telling me it was the morning salutation of the indians to the opening day. some menomonees had been kindly given shelter for the night in the kitchen below, and, having fulfilled their unvarying custom of chanting their morning hymn, they now ceased, and again composed themselves to sleep. but not so their auditor. there was to me something inexpressibly beautiful in this morning song of praise from the untaught sons of the forest. what a lesson did it preach to the civilized, christianized world, too many of whom lie down and rise up without an aspiration of thanksgiving to their almighty preserver--without even a remembrance of his care, who gives his angels charge concerning them! never has the impression of that simple act of worship faded from my mind. i have loved to think that, with some, these strains might be the outpouring of a devotion as pure as that of the christian when he utters the inspiring words of the sainted ken-- "awake, my soul! and with the sun," etc. * * * * * among the visitors who called to offer me a welcome to the west, were mr. and miss cadle, who were earnestly engaged in the first steps of their afterwards flourishing enterprise for the education of indian and half-breed children. the school-houses and chapel were not yet erected, but we visited their proposed site, and listened with great interest to bright anticipations of the future good that was to be accomplished--the success that was to crown their efforts for taming the heathen and teaching them the knowledge of their saviour and the blessings of civilized life. the sequel has shown how little the zeal of the few can accomplish, when opposed to the cupidity of the many. our evening party went off as parties do elsewhere. the most interesting feature to me, because the most novel, was the conversation of some young ladies to whom i was introduced, natives of green bay or its vicinity. their mother was a menomonee, but their father was a frenchman, a descendant of a settler some generations back, and who, there is reason to believe, was a branch of the same family of grignon to which the daughter of madame de sévigné belonged. at least, it is said there are in the possession of the family many old papers and records which would give that impression, although the orthography of the name has become slightly changed. be that as it may, the miss grignons were strikingly dignified, well-bred young ladies, and there was a charm about their soft voices, and original, unsophisticated remarks, very attractive to a stranger. they opened to me, however, a new field of apprehension; for, on my expressing my great impatience to see my new home, they exclaimed, with a look of wonder,-- "_vous n'avez donc pas peur des serpens_?" "snakes! was it possible there were snakes at fort winnebago?" "at the portage! oh! yes--one can never walk out for them--rattle-snakes--copper-heads--all sorts!" i am not naturally timid, but i must confess that the idea of the _serpens sonnettes_ and the _siffleurs_ was not quite a subject of indifference. there was one among these young ladies whose tall, graceful figure, rich, blooming complexion, and dark, glancing eye, would have distinguished her in any drawing-room--and another, whose gentle sweetness and cultivated taste made it a matter of universal regret that she was afterwards led to adopt the seclusion of a convent. captain harney and his boat arrived in due time, and active preparations far the comfort of our journey commenced under the kind supervision of mrs. doty. the mess-basket was stowed with good things of every description--ham and tongue--biscuit and plum-cake--not to mention the substantiate of crackers, bread, and boiled pork, the latter of which, however, a lady was supposed to be too fastidious to think of touching, even if starving in the woods. we had engaged three canadian voyageurs to take charge of our tent, mess-basket, and matters and things in general. their business it was to be to cut the wood for our fires, prepare our meals, and give a helping hand to whatever was going forward. a messenger had also been sent to the kakalin, or rapids, twenty-one miles above, to notify _wish-tay-yun_,[ ] the most accomplished guide through the difficult passes of the river, to be in readiness for our service on a specified day. in the mean time, we had leisure for one more party, and it was to be a "real western hop." everybody will remember that dance at mrs. baird's. all the people, young and old, that would be gathered throughout, or, as it was the fashion to express it, _on_ green bay, were assembled. the young officers were up from fort howard, looking so smart in their uniforms--treasures of finery, long uncalled forth, were now brought to light--everybody was bound to do honor to the strangers by appearing in their very best. it was to be an entertainment unequalled by any given before. all the house was put in requisition for the occasion. desks and seats were unceremoniously dismissed from mr. b.'s office, which formed one wing, to afford more space for the dancers. not only the front portion of the dwelling, but even the kitchen was made fit for the reception of company, in case any primitive visitor, as was sometimes the case, should prefer sitting down quietly there and smoking his cigar. this was an emergency that, in those days, had always to be provided for. nothing could exceed the mirth and hilarity of the company. no restraint, but of good manners--no excess of conventionalities--genuine, hearty good-humor and enjoyment, such as pleasant, hospitable people, with just enough of the french element to add zest to anything like amusement, could furnish, to make the entertainment agreeable. in a country so new, and where, in a social gathering, the number of the company was more important than the quality, the circle was not always, strictly speaking, select. i was aware of this, and was therefore more amused than surprised when a clumsy little man, with a broad, red, laughing face, waddled across the room to where i had taken my seat after a dance, and thus addressed me: "_miss_ k----, nobody hain't never introduced you to me, but i've seen you a good many times, and i know your husband very well, so i thought i might just as well come and speak to you--my name is a----." "ah! mr. a----, good-evening. i hope you are enjoying yourself. how is your sister?" "oh! she is a great deal worse--her cold has got into her eye, and it is all _shot up_." then turning full upon a lady[ ] who sat near, radiant with youth and beauty, sparkling with wit and genuine humor: "oh! mrs. beall," he began, "what a beautiful gown you have got on, and how handsome you do look! i declare you're the prettiest woman in the room, and dance the handsomest." "indeed, mr. a----," replied she, suppressing her love of fun and assuming a demure look, "i am afraid you flatter me." "no, i don't--i'm in earnest. i've just come to ask you to dance." such was the penalty of being too charming. chapter iv. voyage up fox river. it had been arranged that judge doty should accompany us in our boat as far as the butte des morts, at which place his attendant would be waiting with horses to convey him to mineral point, where he was to hold court. it was a bright and beautiful morning when we left his pleasant home, to commence our passage up the fox river captain harney was proposing to remain a few days longer at "the bay," but he called to escort us to the boat and instal us in all its comforts. as he helped me along over the ploughed ground and other inequalities in our way to the river-bank, where the boat lay, he told me how impatiently mrs. twiggs, the wife of the commanding officer, who since the past spring had been the only white lady at fort winnebago, was now expecting a companion and friend. we had met in new york, shortly after her marriage, and were, therefore, not quite unacquainted. i, for my part, felt sure that when there were two of our sex--when my piano was safely there--when the post library which we had purchased should be unpacked--when all should be fairly arranged and settled, we should be, although far away in the wilderness, the happiest little circle imaginable. all my anticipations were of the most sanguine and cheerful character. it was a moderate-sized mackinac boat, with a crew of soldiers, and our own three voyageurs in addition, that lay waiting for us--a dark-looking structure of some thirty feet in length. placed in the centre was a frame-work of slight posts, supporting a roof of canvas, with curtains of the same, which might be let down at the sides and ends, after the manner of a country stage-coach, or rolled up to admit the light and air. in the midst of this little cabin or saloon was placed the box containing my piano, and on it a mattress, which was to furnish us a divan through the day and a place of repose at night, should the weather at any time prove too wet or unpleasant for encamping. the boxes of silver, with which my husband was to pay the annuities due his red children, by treaty-stipulation, were stowed next. our mess-basket was in a convenient vicinity, and we had purchased a couple of large square covered baskets of the waubanakees, or new york indians, to hold our various necessary articles of outward apparel and bedding, and at the same time to answer as very convenient little work or dinner-tables. as a true daughter of new england, it is to be taken for granted i had not forgotten to supply myself with knitting-work and embroidery. books and pencils were a matter of course. the greater part of our furniture, together with the various articles for housekeeping with which we had supplied ourselves in new york and detroit, were to follow in another boat, under the charge of people whose business it professed to be to take cargoes safely up the rapids and on to fort winnebago. this was an enterprise requiring some three weeks of time and a great amount of labor, so that the owners of the goods transported might think themselves happy to receive them at last, however wet, broken, and dilapidated their condition might be. it was for this reason that we took our choicest possessions with us, even at the risk of being a little crowded. until now i had never seen a gentleman attired in a colored shirt, a spotless white collar and bosom being one of those "notions" that "boston," and consequently new england "folks," entertained of the becoming in a gentleman's toilette. mrs. cass had laughingly forewarned me that not only calico shirts but patch-work pillow-cases were an indispensable part of a travelling equipment; and, thanks to the taste and skill of some tidy little frenchwoman, i found our divan-pillows all accommodated in the brightest and most variegated garb. the judge and my husband were gay with the deepest of blue and pink. each was prepared, besides, with a bright red cap (a _bonnet rouge_, or _tuque_, as the voyageurs call it), which, out of respect for the lady, was to be donned only when a hearty dinner, a dull book, or the want of exercise made an afternoon nap indispensable. the judge was an admirable travelling companion. he had lived many years in the country, had been with general cass on his expedition to the head-waters of the mississippi, and had a vast fund of anecdote regarding early times, customs, and inhabitants. some instances of the mode of administering justice in those days, i happen to recall. there was an old frenchman at the bay, named réaume, excessively ignorant and grasping, although otherwise tolerably good-natured. this man was appointed justice of the peace. two men once appeared before him, the one as plaintiff, the other as defendant. the justice listened patiently to the complaint of the one and the defence of the other; then rising, with dignity, he pronounced his decision: "you are both wrong. you, bois-vert," to the plaintiff, "you bring me one load of hay; and you, crély," to the defendant, "you bring me one load of wood; and now the matter is settled." it does not appear that any exceptions were taken to this verdict. this anecdote led to another, the scene of which was prairie du chien, on the mississippi. there was a frenchman, a justice of the peace, who was universally known by the name of "old boilvin." his office was just without the walls of the fort, and it was much the fashion among the officers to lounge in there of a morning, to find sport for an idle hour, and to take a glass of brandy-and-water with the old gentleman, which he called "taking a little _quelque-chose."_ a soldier, named fry, had been accused of stealing and killing a calf belonging to m. rolette, and the constable, a bricklayer of the name of bell, had been dispatched to arrest the culprit and bring him to trial. while the gentlemen were making their customary morning visit to the justice, a noise was heard in the entry, and a knock at the door. "come in," cried old boilvin, rising and walking toward the door. _bell_,--here, sir, i have brought fry to you, as you ordered. _justice_--fry, you great rascal! what for you kill m. rolette's calf? _fry_,--i did not kill m. rolette's calf. _justice_ (shaking his fist).--you lie, you great ---- rascal! bell, take him to jail. come, gentlemen, come, _let us take a leetle quelque-chose_. * * * * * the canadian boatmen always sing while rowing or paddling, and nothing encourages them so much as to hear the "bourgeois"[ ] take the lead in the music. if the passengers, more especially those of the fair sex, join in the refrain, the compliment is all the greater. their songs are of a light, cheerful character, generally embodying some little satire or witticism, calculated to produce a spirited, sometimes an uproarious, chorus. the song and refrain are carried on somewhat in the following style: bourgeois.--par-derrière chez ma tante, par-derrière chez ma tante. chorus.--par-derrière chez ma tante, par-derrière chez ma tante. bourgeois.--il y a un coq qui chante, des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, des figues nouvelles, des raisins doux. chorus.--des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, des figues nouvelles, des raisins doux. bourgeois.--il y a un coq qui chante, il y a un coq qui chante. chorus.--il y a un coq qui chante, etc. bourgeois.--demande une femme à prendre, des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, etc. chorus.--des pommes, dos poires, etc. bourgeois.--demande une femme à prendre, demande une femme à, etc. and thus it continues until the advice is given successively, ne prenez pas une noire, car elles aiment trop à boire, ne prenez pas une rousse, car elles sont trop jalouses. and by the time all the different qualifications are rehearsed and objected to, lengthened out by the interminable repetition of the chorus, the shout of the bourgeois is heard-- "whoop la! à terre, à terre--pour la pipe!" it is an invariable custom for the voyageurs to stop every five or six miles to rest and smoke, so that it was formerly the way of measuring distances--"so many pipes," instead of "so many miles." the canadian melodies are sometimes very beautiful, and a more exhilarating mode of travel can hardly be imagined than a voyage over these waters, amid all the wild magnificence of nature, with the measured strokes of the oar keeping time to the strains of "_le rosier blanc_," "en roulant ma boule_," or "_lève ton pied, ma jolie bergère."_ the climax of fun seemed to be in a comic piece, which, however oft repeated, appeared never to grow stale. it was somewhat after this fashion: bourgeois.--michaud est monté dans un prunier, pour treiller des prunes. la branche a cassé-- chorus.--michaud a tombé? bourgeois.--ou est-ce qu'il est? chorus.--il est en bas. bourgeois.--oh! reveille, reveille, reveille, oh! reveille, michaud est en haut![ ] it was always a point of etiquette to look astonished at the luck of michaud in remaining in the tree, spite of the breaking of the branch, and the joke had to be repeated through all the varieties of fruit-trees that michaud might be supposed able to climb. by evening of the first day we arrived at _the kakalin_, where another branch of the grignon family resided. we were very pleasantly entertained, although, in my anxiety to begin my forest life, i would fain have had the tent pitched on the bank of the river, and have laid aside, at once, the indulgences of civilization. this, however, would have been a slight, perhaps an affront; so we did much better, and partook of the good cheer that was offered us in the shape of hot venison steaks and crêpes, and that excellent cup of coffee which none can prepare like a frenchwoman, and which is so refreshing after a day in the open air. the kakalin is a rapid of the fox river, sufficiently important to make the portage of the heavy lading of a boat necessary; the boat itself being poled or dragged up with cords against the current. it is one of a series of rapids and _chûtes_, or falls, which occur between this point and lake winnebago, twenty miles above. the next morning, after breakfast, we took leave of our hosts, and prepared to pursue our journey. the bourgeois, from an early hour, had been occupied in superintending his men in getting the boat and its loading over the kakalin. as the late rains had made the paths through the woods and along the banks of the river somewhat muddy and uncomfortable for walking, i was put into an ox-cart, to be jolted over the unequal road; saluting impartially all the stumps and stones that lay in our way, the only means of avoiding which seemed to be when the little, thick-headed frenchman, our conductor, bethought him of suddenly guiding his cattle into a projecting tree or thorn-bush, to the great detriment not only of my straw bonnet, but of my very eyes. but we got through at last, and, arriving at the head of the rapids, i found the boat lying there, all in readiness for our re-embarking. our menomonee guide, _wish-tay-yun_, a fine, stalwart indian, with an open, good-humored, one might almost say _roguish_ countenance, came forward to be presented to me. "_bon-jour, bon-jour, maman_," was his laughing salutation. again i was surprised, not as before at the french, for to that i had become accustomed, but at the respectable title he was pleased to bestow upon me. "yes," said my husband, "you must make up your mind to receive a very numerous and well-grown family, consisting of all the winnebagoes, pottowattamies, chippewas, and ottawas, together with such sioux, sacs and foxes, and iowas, as have any point to gain in applying to me. by the first-named tribe in virtue of my office, and by the others as a matter of courtesy, i am always addressed as '_father_'--you, of course, will be their '_mother_.'" wish-tay-yun and i were soon good friends, my husband interpreting to me the chippewa language in which he spoke. we were impatient to be off, the morning being already far advanced, and, all things being in readiness, the word was given: "_pousse au large, mes gens!_" (push out, my men). at this moment a boat was seen leaving the opposite bank of the river and making towards us. it contained white men, and they showed by signs that they wished to detain us until they came up. they drew near, and we found them to be mr. marsh, a missionary among the waubanakees, or the new york indians, lately brought into this country, and the rev. eleazar williams,[ ] who was at that time living among his red brethren on the right bank of the fox river. to persons so situated, even more emphatically than to those of the settlements, the arrival of visitors from the "east countrie" was a godsend indeed. we had to give all the news of various kinds that we had brought--political, ecclesiastical, and social--as well as a tolerably detailed account of what we proposed to do, or rather what we hoped to be able to do, among our native children at the portage. i was obliged, for my part, to confess that, being almost entirely a stranger to the indian character and habits, i was going among them with no settled plans of any kind--general good-will, and a hope of making them my friends, being the only principles i could lay claim to at present. i must leave it for time and a better acquaintance to show me in what way the principle could be carried out for their greatest good. mr. williams was a dark-complexioned, good-looking man. having always heard him spoken of, by his relations in connecticut, as "our indian cousin," it never occurred to me to doubt his belonging to that race, although i now think that if i had met him elsewhere i should have taken him for a spaniard or a mexican. his complexion had decidedly more of the olive than the copper hue, and his countenance was grave, almost melancholy. he was very silent during this interview, asking few questions, and offering no observations except in reply to some question addressed to him. it was a hard pull for the men up the rapids. wish-tay-yun, whose clear, sonorous voice was the bugle of the party, shouted and whooped--each one answered with a chorus, and a still more vigorous effort. by-and-by the boat would become firmly set between two huge stones-- "whoop la! whoop! whoop!" another pull, and another, straining every nerve--in vain. "she will not budge!" "men, overboard!" and instantly every rower is over the side and into the water. by pulling, pushing, and tugging, the boat is at length released from her position, and the men walk along beside her, helping and guiding her, until they reach a space of comparatively smooth water, when they again take their seats and their oars. it will be readily imagined that there were few songs this day, but very frequent _pipes_, to refresh the poor fellows after such an arduous service. it was altogether a new spectacle to me. in fact, i had hardly ever before been called upon to witness severe bodily exertion, and my sympathies and sensibilities were, for this reason, the more enlisted on the occasion. it seemed a sufficient hardship to have to labor in this violent manner; but to walk in cold water up to their waists, and then to sit down in their soaking garments without going near a fire! poor men! this was too much to be borne! what, then, was my consternation to see my husband, who, shortly after our noon-tide meal, had surprised me by making his appearance in a pair of duck trowsers and light jacket, at the first cry of "fast, again!" spring over into the water with the men, and "bear a hand" throughout the remainder of the long stretch! when he returned on board, it was to take the oar of a poor, delicate-looking boy, one of the company of soldiers, who from the first had suffered with bleeding at the nose on every unusual exertion. i was not surprised, on inquiring, to find that this lad was a recruit just entered the service. he passed by the name of gridley, but that was undoubtedly an assumed name. he had the appearance of having been delicately nurtured, and had probably enlisted without at all appreciating the hardships and discomforts of a soldier's life. this is evident from the dissatisfaction he always continued to feel, until at length he deserted from his post. this was some months subsequent to the time of which i am writing. he was once retaken, and kept for a time in confinement, but immediately on his release deserted again, and his remains were found the following spring, not many miles from the fort. he had died, either of cold or starvation. this is a sad interlude--we will return to our boating. with all our tugging and toiling, we had accomplished but thirteen miles since leaving the kakalin, and it was already late when we arrived in view of the "grande chûte," near which we were to encamp. we had passed the "little chûte" (the spot where the town of appleton now stands) without any further observation than that it required a vast deal of extra exertion to buffet with the rushing stream and come off, as we did, victorious. the brilliant light of the setting sun was resting on the high wooded banks through which broke the beautiful, foaming, dashing waters of the chûte. the boat was speedily turned towards a little headland projecting from the left bank, which had the advantage of a long strip of level ground, sufficiently spacious to afford a good encamping ground. i jumped ashore before the boat was fairly pulled up by the men, and with the judge's help made my way as rapidly as possible to a point lower down the river, from which, he said, the best view of the chûte could be obtained. i was anxious to make a sketch before the daylight quite faded away. the left bank of the river was to the west, and over a portion less elevated than the rest the sun's parting rays fell upon the boat, the men with their red caps and belts, and the two tents already pitched. the smoke now beginning to ascend from the evening fires, the high wooded bank beyond, up which the steep portage path could just be discerned, and, more remote still, the long stretch of waterfall now darkening in the shadow of the overhanging forests, formed a lovely landscape, to which the pencil of an artist could alone do justice. this was my first encampment, and i was quite enchanted with the novelty of everything about me. the fires had been made of small saplings and underbrush, hastily collected, the mildness of the weather rendering anything beyond what sufficed for the purposes of cooking and drying the men's clothes, superfluous. the soldiers' tent was pitched at some distance from our own, but not too far for us to hear distinctly their laughter and apparent enjoyment after the fatigues of the day. under the careful superintendence of corporal kilgour, however, their hilarity never passed the bounds of respectful propriety, and, by the time we had eaten our suppers, cooked in the open air with the simple apparatus of a tea-kettle and frying-pan, we were, one and all, ready to retire to our rest. the first sound that saluted our ears in the early dawn of the following morning, was the far-reaching call of the bourgeois: "how! how! how!" uttered at the very top of his voice. all start at that summons, and the men are soon turning out of their tents, or rousing from their slumbers beside the fire, and preparing for the duties of the day. the fire is replenished, the kettles set on to boil, the mess-baskets opened, and a portion of their contents brought forth to be made ready for breakfast. one frenchman spreads our mat within the tent, whence the bedding has all been carefully removed and packed up for stowing in the boat. the tin cups and plates are placed around on the new-fashioned table-cloth. the heavy dews make it a little too damp for us to breakfast in the open air; otherwise our preparations would be made outside, upon the green grass. in an incredibly short time our smoking coffee and broiled ham are placed before us, to which are added, from time to time, slices of toast brought hot and fresh from the glowing coals. there is, after all, no breakfast like a breakfast in the woods, with a well-trained frenchman for master of ceremonies. it was a hard day's work to which the men now applied themselves, that of dragging the heavy boat up the chûte. it had been thought safest to leave the piano in its place on board, but the rest of the lading had to be carried up the steep bank, and along its summit, a distance of some hundreds of rods, to the smooth water beyond, where all the difficulties of our navigation terminated. the judge kindly took charge of me while "the bourgeois" superintended this important business, and with reading, sketching, and strolling about, the morning glided away. twelve o'clock came, and still the preparations for starting were not yet completed. in my rambles about to seek out some of the finest of the wild flowers for a bouquet, before my husband's return, i came upon the camp-fire of the soldiers. a tall, red-faced, light-haired young man in fatigue dress was attending a kettle of soup, the savory steams of which were very attractive. seeing that i was observing his occupation, he politely ladled out a tin-cupful of the liquid and offered it to me. i declined it, saying we should have our dinner immediately. "they left me here to get their dinner," said he, apparently not displeased to have some one to talk to; "and i thought i might as well make some soup. down on the german flats, where i come from, they always like soup." "ah! you are from the german flats--then your name must be bellinger or weber." "no, it isn't--it's krissman." "well, krissman, how do you like the service?" "very well. i was only recruited last summer. i used to ride horse on the _canawl_, and, as i can blow a horn first-rate, i expect i will soon be able to play on a bugle, and then, when i get to be musician, you know, i shall have extra pay." i did not know it, but i expressed due pleasure at the information, and wishing krissman all manner of success in his dreams of ambition, or rather, i should say, of avarice, for the hopes of "extra pay" evidently preponderated over those of fame, i returned to my own quarters. my husband, with his french tastes, was inclined to be somewhat disappointed when i told him of this little incident, and my refusal of krissman's soup; but we were soon gratified by seeing his tall, awkward form bearing a kettle of the composition, which he set down before the two gentlemen, by whom, to his infinite satisfaction, it was pronounced excellent. everything being at length in readiness, the tents were struck and carried around the portage, and my husband, the judge, and i followed at our leisure. the woods were brilliant with wild flowers, although it was so late in the season that the glory of the summer was well-nigh past. but the lupin, the moss-pink, and the yellow wallflower, with all the varieties of the helianthus, the aster, and the solidago, spread their gay charms around. the gentlemen gathered clusters of the bittersweet (celastrus scandens) from the overhanging boughs to make a wreath for my hat, as we trod the tangled pathway, which, like that of christabel, was "now in glimmer and now in gloom," through the alternations of open glade and shady thicket. soon, like the same lovely heroine, "we reached the place--right glad we were," and, without further delay, we were again on board our little boat and skimming over the now placid waters. chapter v. winnebago lake--miss four-legs. our encampment this night was the most charming that can be imagined. owing to the heavy service the men had gone through in the earlier part of the day, we took but a short stage for the afternoon, and, having pulled some seven or eight miles to a spot a short distance below the "little butte," we drew in at a beautiful opening among the trees. the soldiers now made a regular business of encamping, by cutting down a large tree for their fire and applying themselves to the preparing of a sufficient quantity of food for their next day's journey, a long stretch, namely, of twenty-one miles across winnebago lake. our frenchmen did the same. the fire caught in the light dry grass by which we were surrounded, and soon all was blaze and crackle. fortunately the wind was sufficient to take the flames all in one direction, and, besides, there was not enough fuel to have made them a subject of any alarm. we hopped upon the fallen logs, and dignified the little circumscribed affair with the name of "a prairie on fire." the most serious inconvenience was its having consumed all the dry grass, some armfuls of which, spread under the bear-skin in my tent, i had found, the night before, a great improvement to my place of repose. our supper was truly delightful, at the pleasant sunset hour, under the tall trees beside the waters that ran murmuring by; and when the bright, broad moon arose, and shed her flood of light over the scene, so wild yet so beautiful in its vast solitude, i felt that i might well be an object of envy to the friends i had left behind. but all things have an end, and so must at last my enthusiasm for the beauties around me, and, albeit unwillingly, i closed my tent and took my place within, so near the fall of canvas that i could raise it occasionally and peep forth upon the night. in time all was quiet. the men had become silent, and appeared to have retired to rest, and we were just sinking to our slumbers, when a heavy tread and presently a bluff voice were heard outside. "mr. kinzie! mr. kinzie!" "who is there? what is it?" "i'm krissman; didn't you mean, sir, that the men should have any liquor to-night?" "of course i did. has not kilgour given out your rations?" "no: he says you did not say anything particular about it, and he was not coming to ask you if you forgot it; but i thought i wouldn't be bashful--i'd just come and ask.'" "that is right. tell kilgour i should like to have him serve out a ration apiece." "thank you, sir," in a most cheerful tone; "i'll tell him." krissman was getting to be quite a character with us. a row of a few miles, on the following morning, brought us to four-legs' village,[ ] at the entrance to winnebago lake, a picturesque cluster of indian huts, spread around on a pretty green glade, and shaded by fine lofty trees. we were now fairly in the winnebago country, and i soon learned that the odd-sounding name of the place was derived from the principal chief of the nation, whose residence it was. the inhabitants were absent, having, in all probability, departed to their wintering grounds. we here took leave of our friend wish-tay-yun, at the borders of whose country we had now arrived. "_bon-jour, chon!_" (john:) "_bon-jour, maman_." a hearty shake of the hand completed his adieu, as we pushed off into the lake, and left him smoking his kin-nee-kin-nick[ ] and waiting until the spirit should move him to take up his long _indian trot_ towards his home in the menomonee country. with him our sunshine seemed to have departed. the skies, hitherto so bright and serene, became overcast, and, instead of the charming voyage we had anticipated over the silver waters of the lake, we were obliged to keep ourselves housed under our canvas shelter, only peeping out now and then to catch a glimpse of the surrounding prospect through the pouring rain. it was what might have been expected on an autumnal day, but we were unreasonable enough to find it tedious; so, to beguile the time and lessen my disappointment, my husband related to me some incidents of his early history, apropos to the subject of "four-legs." while he was living at prairie du chien, in the employ of the american fur company, the chiefs and other indians from the upper mississippi used frequently to come to the place to sell their furs and peltries, and to purchase merchandise, ammunition, trinkets, etc. as is usual with all who are not yet acclimated, he was seized with chills and fever. one day, while suffering with an unusually severe access of the latter, a chief of the four-legs family, a brother to the one before mentioned, came in to the company's warehouse to trade. there is no ceremony or restraint among the indians: so, hearing that shaw-nee-aw-kee was sick, four-legs instantly made his way to him, to offer his sympathy and prescribe the proper remedies. every one who has suffered from ague and the intense fever that succeeds it, knows how insupportable is the protracted conversation of an inconsiderate person, and will readily believe that the longer four-legs continued his pratings the higher mounted the fever of the patient, and the more intolerable became the pain of head, back, and limbs. at length the old man arrived at the climax of what he had to say. "it was not good for a young man, suffering with sickness, and away from his family, to be without a home and a wife. he had a nice daughter at home, handsome and healthy, a capital nurse, the best hand in all the tribe at trapping beaver and musk-rats. he was coming down again in the spring, and he would bring her with him, and shaw-nee-aw-kee should see that he had told no falsehood about her. should he go now, and bring his daughter the next time he came?" stunned with his importunate babble, and anxious only for rest and quiet, poor shaw-nee-aw-kee eagerly assented, and the chief took his departure. so nearly had his disorder been aggravated to delirium, that the young man forgot entirely, for a time, the interview and the proposal which had been made him. but it was recalled to his memory some months after, when four-legs made his appearance, bringing with him a squaw of mature age, and a very hecate for ugliness. she carried on her shoulders an immense pack of furs, which, approaching with her awkward _criss-cross_ gait, she threw at his feet, thus marking, by an indian custom, her sense of the relation that existed between them. the conversation with her father now flashed across his mind, and he began to be sensible that he had got into a position that it would require some skill to extricate himself from. he bade one of the young clerks take up the pack and carry it into the magazine where the furs were stored; then he coolly went on talking with the chief about indifferent matters. _miss four-legs_ sat awhile with a sulky, discontented air; at length she broke out,-- "humph! he seems to take no more notice of me than if i was nobody!" he again turned to the clerk.--"give her a calico shirt and half a dozen bread-tickets." this did not dissipate the gloom on her countenance. finding that he must commence the subject, the father says,-- "well, i have brought you my daughter, according to our agreement. how do you like her?" "ah, yes--she is a very nice young woman, and would make a first-rate wife, i have no doubt. but do you know a very strange thing has happened since you were here? our father, governor cass,[ ] has sent for me to come to detroit, that he may send me among the wyandottes and other nations to learn their customs and manners. now, if i go, as i shall be obliged to do, i shall be absent two or three years,--perhaps four. what then? why, the people will say, shaw-nee-aw-kee has married four-legs' daughter, and then has hated her and run away from her, and so everybody will laugh at her, and she will be ashamed. it will be better to take some good, valuable presents, blankets, guns, etc., and to marry her to one of her own people, who will always stay by her and take care of her." the old man was shrewd enough to see that it was wisest to make the best bargain he could. i have no doubt it cost a round sum to settle the matter to the satisfaction of the injured damsel, though i have never been able to ascertain how much. this i know, that the young gentleman took care not to make his next bargain while in a fit of the ague. the lady up on the mississippi is called, in derision, by his name to this day. about midway of the lake we passed garlic island--a lovely spot, deserving of a more attractive name. it belonged, together with the village on the opposite shore, to "wild cat," a fat, jolly, good-natured fellow, by no means the formidable animal his name would imply. he and his band were absent, like their neighbors of four-legs' village, so there was nothing to vary the monotony of our sail. it was too wet to sing, and the men, although wrapped in their overcoats, looked like drowned chickens. they were obliged to ply their oars with unusual vigor to keep themselves warm and comfortable, and thus probably felt less than we, the dulness and listlessness of the cold, rainy, october day. towards evening the sun shone forth. we had passed into the fox river, and were just entering that beautiful little expanse known as butte des morts lake, at the farther extremity of which we were to encamp for the night. the water along its shores was green with the fields of wild rice, the gathering of which, just at this season, is an important occupation of the indian women. they push their canoes into the thick masses of the rice, bend it forward over the side with their paddles, and then beat the ripe husks off the stalks into a cloth spread in the canoe. after this, it is rubbed to separate the grain from the husk, and fanned in the open air. it is then put in their cordage bags and packed away for winter use. the grain is longer and more slender than the carolina rice--it is of a greenish-olive color, and, although it forms a pleasant article of food, it is far from being particularly nutritive. the indians are fond of it in the form of soup, with the addition of birds or venison. chapter vi. breakfast at betty more's. the earth, the trees, and the shrubbery were all too much filled with the heavy rain which had fallen to allow us to think of encamping, so we made arrangements to bestow ourselves in our little saloon for the night. it was rather a difficult matter to light a fire, but among the underbrush, in a wild, undisturbed spot, there will always be found some fragments of dried branches, and tufts of grass which the rain has not reached, and by the assistance of the spunk, or light-wood, with which travellers always go well provided, a comforting fire was at length blazing brightly. after our chilling, tedious day, it was pleasant to gather round it, to sit on the end of the blazing logs, and watch the frenchmen preparing our supper--the kettle nestling in a little nook of bright glowing coals--the slices of ham browning and crisping on the forked sticks, or "broches," which the voyageurs dexterously cut, and set around the burning brands--- the savory messes of "pork and onions" hissing in the frying-pan, always a tempting regale to the hungry frenchmen. truly, it needs a wet, chilly journey, taken nearly fasting, as ours had been, to enable one to enjoy to its full extent that social meal--a supper. the bright sun, setting amid brilliant masses of clouds, such as are seen only in our western skies, gave promise of a fine day on the morrow, with which comforting assurance we were glad to take our leave of him, and soon after of each other. we had hardly roused up the following morning, in obedience to the call of the bourgeois, when our eyes were greeted with the sight of an addition to our company--a tall, stalwart, fine-looking young _mitiff_, or half-breed, accompanied by two or three indians. vociferous and joyous were the salutations of the latter to their "father" and their new "mother." they were the first winnebagoes i had seen, and they were decidedly not the finest specimens of their tribe. the mitiff, a scion of the wide-spreading tree of the grignons, was the bearer of an invitation to us from judge law, who, with one or two green bay friends, was encamped a few miles above, to come and breakfast with him in his tent. we had not dreamed of finding white neighbors here, but our vicinity could be no secret to them, as long as there was an indian in the neighborhood. so, delaying only for the soldiers to finish their breakfast, we pushed on for the "butte des morts," or, as mrs. a always persisted in calling it, _betty more's_. the white tent of the judge gleamed in the morning sun as we approached the little rising ground on which it stood. the river was filled with canoes, paddled principally by squaws. many indians were to be seen on the banks, all with their guns and hunting accoutrements, for the air was filled in every direction with flocks of teal, which at this season are most abundant and delicious. the immense fields of wild rice abounding here and in the little lake below, make this vicinity their favorite place of resort in the autumn months. the effect of this nourishing food is to make the flesh of the birds so fat, so white, and so tender, that a caution is always given to a young sportsman to fire only at such as fly very low, for if shot high in the air they are bruised to pieces and rendered unfit for eating by their fall to the ground. we were hemmed in by a little fleet of canoes which surrounded us, the women chattering, laughing, and eagerly putting forward their little wooden bowls of fresh cranberries as an offering of welcome to me. i amused myself with tossing crackers to them, some of which would reach them, others would fall into the water, and then such a scrambling and shouting! hands and paddles were in requisition, and loud was the triumph of her who was successful in reaching a floating one. among the indians with whom shaw-nee-aw-kee was now engaged in shaking hands, and who all seemed old friends, were many fine, straight, well-formed figures, all of them exhibiting frames capable of enduring fatigue and the hardships of their mode of life. one was describing with much gesticulation the abundance of the game in the neighborhood, and he seemed greatly delighted at receiving a quantity of ammunition, with which he instantly departed to make good his boasts in the matter. after walking a short distance, we reached the tent, where i was introduced to judge law and a pleasant little gray-haired french gentleman of the name of porlier. several voyageurs and half-breeds were near, the former busily at work, the latter lounging for the most part, and going through with what they had to do with a sort of listless indifference. the contrast between the "all-alive" air of the one class and the apathetic manner of the other, was quite striking. after a short conversation among the members of the party, breakfast was announced, and we entered the tent and took our seats on the ground around the indian mat which supplied the place of a table. the post of honor, namely, the _head_ of the table, was of course given to me, so that i could not only look around upon the circle of the company, but also enjoy a fine view out of the open door of the tent, and take an observation of all that was going on at the _side-table_ outside. judge doty sat opposite me, with his back to the opening of the tent, and the other gentlemen on either hand. we had for our waiter the tall "mitiff" who had been the messenger of the morning. he was still in the same garb--calico shirt, bright-colored scarf around his waist, and on his head a straw hat encircled with a band of black ostrich feathers, the usual dress of his class. the tin cups which were to hold our coffee were duly set around, then breakfast-plates of the same metal, with knives and forks; then followed the viands, among the most conspicuous of which was a large tin pan of boiled ducks. the judge, wishing to show, probably, that, although we were in the vast wilderness, all fastidious nicety had not been left behind, took up the plate which had been set before him, and, seeing something adhering to it which did not exactly please him, handed it over his shoulder to grignon, requesting him to wipe it carefully. grignon complied by pulling a black silk barcelona handkerchief out of his bosom, where it had been snugly tucked away to answer any occasion that might present itself, and, giving the tin a furious polishing, handed it back again. the judge looked at it with a smile of approbation, and giving a glance around the table as much as to say, "you see how i choose to have things done," applied himself to his breakfast. the trail for fort winnebago then led from the shore opposite butte des morts, through _ma-zhee-gaw-gaw_ swamp, and past green lake, and it was well for the judge that his horses stood waiting for him to "mount and away" as early as possible after breakfast, or i am afraid the story i should have been tempted to tell would have made his ride an uncomfortable one throughout the day. we had hardly finished breakfast when our hunter, who had received the ammunition, returned, bringing with him about fifty fine ducks, which he had shot in little more than an hour. from that time until the close of our journey our supply of these delicate birds was never wanting. chapter vii. butte des morts--lake puckaway. the butte des morts, or hillock of the dead, was the scene long since[ ] of a most sanguinary battle between the french and the mis-qua-kees, or foxes. so great was the carnage in this engagement, that the memory of it has been perpetuated by the gloomy appellation given to the mound where the dead were buried. the foxes up to this time had inhabited the shores of the river to which they had given their name, but, being completely overwhelmed and beaten in this conflict, they retired to the neighborhood of the mississippi, and sought an asylum among their allies, the saukies, or, as they are now called, the sauks, with whom they became gradually incorporated, until the combined tribes came to be known, as at present, by the name of "sauks and foxes." among the french inhabitants of the upper country, each tribe of indians has a particular appellation, descriptive of some peculiarity of either their habits or their personal appearance. thus, the chippewas, from their agility, are denominated "sauteurs," or jumpers; the ottawas, the "courtes-oreilles," or short-ears. the menomonees, from the wild rice so abundant in their country, are called "folles avoines;"--the winnebagoes, from their custom of wearing the fur of a polecat on their legs when equipped for war, are termed "les puans;"--the pottowattamies, from their uncleanly habits, "les poux;"--the foxes are "les renards," etc. etc. hence you will never hear a french or half-breed resident of the country mention an indian in any other style. "such a person is a 'court-oreille.'" "is that woman a 'winnebago'?" "no, she is a 'folle avoine.'" in this manner a stranger is somewhat puzzled at first to classify the acquaintances he forms. all the native friends with whom we were here surrounded were "les puans," or, to use their own euphonious appellation, the "_ho-tshung-rahs_." having with great regret said adieu to our friend judge doty, whose society had contributed so much to the pleasure of our trip, and whose example, moreover, had given us a valuable lesson to take things as we find them, we bade good-bye at an early hour after breakfast to our kind hosts, and set forward on our journey. from butte des morts to the portage, the distance by land is about seventy miles; by water, it is not less than a hundred and thirty, so serpentine is the course of the river through the low swampy prairies which stretch over a great portion of this part of the country. about six miles above the butte, a tolerably broad stream, called wolf river, joins the fox, and as it is much the more direct and promising of the two, strangers have sometimes mistaken it for the main stream, and journeyed up it a considerable distance before discovering, to their great chagrin, that they must retrace their steps. beyond this place, the river begins to play its pranks with the compass. as i was always looking out for pretty scenery to sketch, i was at one spot much attracted by a picturesque group on a bank quite close to the stream. there were broad overhanging trees, and two or three wigwams nestled under their shade. bright-looking little children, quite unencumbered with clothing, were sporting about, and their two mothers were sitting on the ground, engaged in the manufacture of a mat for their lodge. it was a pretty scene, and i commenced a sketch. as usual, the whole party on the bank set up a shout when they recognized shaw-nee-aw-kee,-- "ee-awn-chee-wee-rah, hee-nee-kar-ray-kay-noo."[ ] it was an occasion on which they became demonstrative. after a little time we proceeded, and i went on to complete my drawing. the sun kept coming more and more into the wrong place. he had been just behind me, presently he was on my left hand, now he was straight ahead. i moved from time to time; at length the sun was decidedly on my right hand. what could be the matter? i looked up. "oh, here is a pretty scene; i must have this too! but how surprisingly like the one i have just finished, only in a different direction." again we were greeted with shouts and laughter; it was the same spot which we had passed not an hour before, and, having taken a circuit of nearly four miles, we had returned to find that we had made an actual progress of only the width of the bank on which the trees and wigwams stood. decidedly not very encouraging to an impatient traveller. we reached lake puckaway late in the evening of our second day from butte des morts. here lived a white man named gleason, the same concerning whom, owing to his vast powers of exaggeration, poor hooe was fond of uttering his little pun, "all is not gold that gleasons." we did not seek shelter at his house, for, late as the season was, we found the shore so infested with mosquitoes that we were glad to choose a spot as far as possible from the bank, and make ourselves comfortable in our boat. this lake has its name from the long flags or rushes which are found in its waters in great abundance, and of which the squaws manufacture the coarse matting used in covering their wigwams. their mode of fabricating this is very primitive and simple. seated on the ground, with the rushes laid side by side, and fastened at each extremity, they pass their shuttle, a long flat needle made of bone, to which is attached a piece of cordage formed of the bark of a tree, through each rush, thus confining it very closely, and making a fine substantial mat. these mats are seldom more than five or six feet in length, as a greater size would be inconvenient in adjusting and preparing the lodges. it is a species of labor usually assigned to the elder women of the family. when they become broken down and worn out with exposure and hardship, so that they cannot cut down trees, hoe corn, or carry heavy burdens, they are set to weaving mats, taking care of the children, and disciplining the dogs, with which every indian lodge abounds. lac de boeuf, or buffalo lake, into which our course next brought us, is a lovely sheet of water. in some places its banks are exceedingly picturesque, with beautiful headlands jutting out into the clear depths, where they, and the magnificent groups of trees which crown them, lie reflected as in a mirror. now and then we would catch a glimpse of deer darting across the glades which at intervals opened through the woodlands, or a pair of sand-hill cranes would rise, slowly flapping their wings, and seek a place of more undisturbed repose. the flocks of teal now skimming the surface of the water, now rising higher towards the shelter of the forests, tempted our sportsman sorely; but, as there was little prospect of finding his game when it was brought down, he did not give way to the wanton pleasure of shooting merely to destroy life. in quitting this charming lake, and again entering the narrow, tortuous course of the river, we bade adieu to everything like scenery, until we should reach our journey's end. we had now seventy miles to pass through a country perfectly monotonous and uninteresting, the distastefulness of which was aggravated by the knowledge that we could, had we been provided with horses or a carriage of any kind, have crossed over to the portage from gleason's, through a pleasant country, in little more than three hours. even our great resource, the cheering, animating songs of our voyageurs, was out of the question; for the river, though deep, is so narrow that, in many places, there is no room for the regular play of the oars; and the voices of frenchmen can never "keep tune" unless their oars can "keep time." lapierre, one of our men, did his best with a paddle, or, as he called it, the "_little row_," but it was to no purpose--it _would not go_. besides this, the wild rice abounds to such an extent in many places, that it almost completely obstructs the progress of even a moderate-sized boat, so that a passage through its tangled masses is with difficulty forced by the oars. tedious and monotonous as was the whole course of the two following days, the climax of impatience and discouragement was not reached until we arrived in sight of the white walls of fort winnebago, looking down from a rising ground upon the vast expanse of low land through which the river winds. the indians have a tradition that a vast serpent once lived in the waters of the mississippi, and that, taking a freak to visit the great lakes, he left his trail through the prairies, which, collecting the waters from the meadows and the rains of heaven as they fell, at length became the fox river. the little lakes along its course were probably the spots where he flourished about in his uneasy slumbers at night. he must have played all the antics of a kitten in the neighborhood of the portage. when the fort was first pointed out to me, i exclaimed, with delight, "oh, we shall be there in half an hour!" "not quite so soon," said my husband, smiling. "wait and see." we sat and watched. we seemed approaching the very spot where we were to disembark. we could distinguish the officers and a lady on the bank waiting to receive us. now we were turning our backs on them, and shooting out into the prairie again. anon we approached another bank, on which was a range of comfortable-looking log houses. "that's the agency," said my husband; "the largest house belongs to paquette, the interpreter, and the others are the dwellings of our frenchmen. the little building, just at the foot of the hill, is the blacksmith's shop, kept there by the government, that the indians may have their guns and traps mended free of expense." "but are we going to stop there?" "no; do you not see we are going back to the fort?" and, to be sure, our course had now turned, and we were setting in our first direction. in this manner, after tacking to the right and left and putting backwards and forwards during the greater part of two hours, we at length reached the little landing, on which the assembled party stood ready to greet us. chapter viii fort winnebago. major and mrs. twiggs, and a few of the younger officers (for nearly all of the older ones were absent), with our brother robert, or, as he is called throughout all the indian tribes, "bob," gave us a cordial welcome--how cordial those alone can know who have come, like us, to a remote, isolated home in the wilderness. the major insisted on our taking possession at once of vacant quarters in the fort, instead of at "the agency," as had been proposed. "no--we must be under the same roof with them. mrs. twiggs had been without a companion of her own sex for more than four months, and would certainly not hear of a separation now. but we must be their guests until the arrival of the boats containing our furniture," which, under the care of our old acquaintance, hamilton arndt, was making its way slowly up from green bay. a dinner had been prepared for us. this is one of the advantages of the zigzag approach by the fox river--travellers never take their friends by surprise; and when the whole circle sat down to the hospitable board, we were indeed a merry company. after dinner mrs. twiggs showed me the quarters assigned to us, on the opposite side of the spacious hall. they consisted of two large rooms on each of the three floors or stories of the building. on the ground-floor the front room was vacant. the one in the rear was to be the sleeping-apartment, as was evident from a huge, unwieldy bedstead, of proportions amply sufficient to have accommodated og, the king of bashan, with mrs. og and the children into the bargain. we could not repress our laughter; but the bedstead was nothing to another structure which occupied a second corner of the apartment. this edifice had been built under the immediate superintendence of one of our young lieutenants, and it was plain to be seen that upon it both he and the soldiers who fabricated it had exhausted all their architectural skill. the timbers of which it was composed had been grooved and carved; the pillars that supported the front swelled in and out in a most fanciful manner; the doors were not only panelled, but radiated in a way to excite the admiration of all unsophisticated eyes. a similar piece of workmanship had been erected in each set of quarters, to supply the deficiency of closets, an inconvenience which had never occurred, until too late, to the bachelors who planned them. the three apartments of which each structure was composed, were unquestionably designed for clothes-press, store-room, and china-closet; such, at least, were the uses to which mrs. twiggs had appropriated the one assigned to her. there was this slight difficulty, that in the latter the shelves were too close to admit of setting in even a gravy-boat, but they made up in number what was wanting in space. we christened the whole affair, in honor of its projector, a "davis," thus placing the first laurel on the brow of one who was afterwards to signalize himself in _cabinet_ making of quite a different character. the bold promontory on which fort winnebago was built looked down upon the extended prairie and the fox river on one side, and on the other stretched away into the thickly-wooded ridge that led off to belle fontaine and lake puckaway. in front lay an extent of meadow, across which was the portage road, of about two miles in length, leading between the fox and the wisconsin rivers. teams of oxen and a driver were kept at the agency by the government, to transport the canoes of the indians across this place, which at many seasons was wet, miry, and almost impassable. the woods were now brilliant with the many tints of autumn, and the scene around was further enlivened by groups of indians, in all directions, and their lodges, which were scattered here and there, in the vicinity of the agency buildings. on the low grounds might be seen the white tents of the traders, already prepared to furnish winter supplies to the indians, in exchange for the annuity money they were about to receive. a great concourse had been for many days assembling in anticipation of the payment, which was expected to take place as soon as shaw-nee-aw-kee should arrive with the silver. preparatory to this event, the great chief of the nation, four-legs, whose village we had passed at the entrance to winnebago lake, had thought proper to take a little carouse, as is too apt to be the custom when the savages come into the neighborhood of a sutler's establishment. in the present instance, the facilities for a season of intoxication had been augmented by the presence on the ground of some traders, too regardless of the very stringent laws prohibiting the sale of liquor to the indians. poor four-legs could not stand this full tide of prosperity. unchecked by the presence of his father, the agent, he carried his indulgence to such excess that he fell a victim in the course of a few days. his funeral had been celebrated with unusual pomp the day before our arrival, and great was my disappointment at finding myself too late to witness all the ceremonies. his body, according to their custom, having been wrapped in a blanket, and placed in a rude coffin, along with his guns, tomahawk, pipes, and a quantity of tobacco, had been carried to the most elevated point of the hill opposite the fort, followed by an immense procession of his people, whooping, beating their drums, howling, and making altogether what is emphatically termed a "_pow-wow_" after the interment of the body, a stake was planted at its head, on which was painted in vermilion a series of hieroglyphics, descriptive of the great deeds and events of his life the whole was then surrounded with pickets of the trunks of the tamarack-trees, and hither the friends would come for many successive days to renew the expression of their grief, and to throw over the grave tobacco and other offerings to the great spirit. it was a consolation to find that, although delayed, we were yet in time to furnish a quantity of white cotton for a flag to wave over the grave, and also to pay a considerable bill at the sutler's for the different articles that had been found necessary for the funeral parade--it being a duty expected of their father to bury the dead suitably. the funeral observances in honor of the chief had not yet ceased. throughout the day, and all that night, the sound of instruments, mingled with doleful lamentations, and with the discordant whoops and yells of those in a partial state of intoxication, filled the air, and disturbed our repose. to these were added occasionally the plaintive sounds of the indian flute, upon which the young savage plays when he is in love. grief and whiskey had made their hearts tender, and the woods resounded to their melancholy strains. early the following morning, before i left my room, i was startled by the sounds of lamentation and woe proceeding from the adjoining apartment. on entering it, i found several squaws seated on the floor, with downcast looks expressive of condolence and sympathy, while in their midst sat a little ugly woman, in tattered garments, with blackened face and dishevelled hair, sobbing and wailing bitterly. not doubting they were the family of the deceased chief, i was quite troubled at my inability to express, otherwise than by gestures, my participation in their sorrows. unacquainted as i was with their customs, i took it for granted from their wretched appearance that poverty and destitution formed one of the sources of their affliction. one of the party, at least, seemed in the very depths of misery. "can it be possible," said i to myself, "that this poor creature has only these scanty rags to cover her?" stepping back to my own room, i brought out a pretty calico wrapper, which i presented to the little, dirty, blackened object. she took it, and commenced a fresh series of sobbing and sighing. i made signs to her to put it on, opening it and explaining to her how it was to be worn, and recommending to her, by gestures, to lose no time in making herself more comfortable. at this, the other women burst into a laugh. "very mal-à-propos," thought i, "and somewhat unfeeling." at that moment my husband, entering, explained to me that the chief mourner was madame four-legs, the widow; that she had undoubtedly a comfortable wardrobe at home, but that it was part of the etiquette of mourning to go for a season with neglected persons and blackened faces. all this was told me in the intervals of shaking hands, and offering and receiving condolences in the most uncouth, guttural language i had ever heard. their father at length dismissed them, with a promise of some presents to help dry up their tears. it must not be inferred that the grief of the poor little widow was not sincere. on the contrary, she was greatly attached to her husband, and had had great influence not only with him but with the nation at large. she was a fox woman, and spoke the chippewa, which is the court language among all the tribes, so that she was often called upon to act as interpreter, and had, in fact, been in the habit of accompanying her husband, and assisting him by her counsels upon all occasions. she was a person of great shrewdness and judgment, and, as i afterwards experienced, of strong and tenacious affections. after breakfast i received a visit from the principal chiefs, who had put on their best of apparel and paint to receive their new mother. there was naw-kaw, or kar-ray-mau-nee, "the walking turtle," now the principal chief of the nation, a stalwart indian, with a broad, pleasant countenance, the great peculiarity of which was an immense under lip, hanging nearly to his chin. there was the old day-kau-ray, the most noble, dignified, and venerable of his own, or indeed of any tribe. his fine roman countenance, rendered still more striking by his bald head, with one solitary tuft of long silvery hair neatly tied and falling back on his shoulders; his perfectly neat, appropriate dress, almost without ornament, and his courteous demeanor, never laid aside under any circumstances, all combined to give him the highest place in the consideration of all who knew him. it will hereafter be seen that his traits of character were not less grand and striking than were his personal appearance and deportment. there was black-wolf, whose lowering, surly face was well described by his name. the fierce expression of his countenance was greatly heightened by the masses of heavy black hair hanging round it, quite contrary to the usual fashion among the winnebagoes. they, for the most part, remove a portion of their hair, the remainder of which is drawn to the back of the head, clubbed and ornamented with beads, ribbons, cock's feathers, or, if they are so entitled, an eagle's feather for every scalp taken from an enemy. there was _talk-english,_ a remarkably handsome, powerful young indian, who received his name in the following manner. he was one of a party of sixteen winnebagoes who had, by invitation, accompanied their agent and major forsyth (or the chippewa, as he was called) on a visit to the president at washington, the year previous. on the journey, the question naturally addressed to them by people not familiar with western indians was,-- "do you talk english?" the young fellow, being very observant, came to his father. "what do they mean by this? everybody says to me, _talk english!_" the agent interpreted the words to him. "ah, very well." the next place they arrived at was lockport, in the state of new york. jumping off the canal-boat upon the lock, he ran up to the first man he met, and, thrusting forward his face, cried out, "talk eengeesh?" "yes," said the man; "do you talk english?" "ya-as." from that time forward he always bore the name of _talk-english_, and was registered on the pay-rolls by a title of which he was not a little proud. hoo-wau-ne-kah, "the little elk," was another of the distinguished men of the tribe. he had likewise been at washington. henry clay, when he visited them, after looking carefully at the countenances and bearing of all the members of the deputation, had indicated him as the one possessing the greatest talent; and he was greatly pleased when informed that he was the principal orator of the nation, and decidedly superior in abilities to any other individual of the tribe. wild-cat, our indian falstaff in all save the cowardice and falsehood, i have already mentioned. then there was kau-ray-kaw-saw-kaw, "the white crow," a rock river indian, who afterwards distinguished himself as the friend of the whites during the sauk war. he was called by the french "le borgne," from having lost an eye; and the black silk handkerchief which he wore drooping over the left side of his face to disguise the blemish, taken with his native costume, gave him a very singular appearance. there was a nephew of the defunct chief four-legs, to whom with justice was given, by both whites and indians, the appellation of "the dandy." when out of mourning his dress was of the most studied and fanciful character. a shirt (when he condescended to wear any) of the brightest colors, ornamented with innumerable rows of silver brooches set thickly together; never less than two pairs of silver arm-bands; leggings and moccasins of the most elaborate embroidery in ribbons and porcupine-quills; everything that he could devise in the shape of ornament hanging to his club of hair behind; a feather fan in one hand, and in the other a mirror, in which he contemplated himself every five minutes; these, with the variety and brilliancy of the colors upon his face, the suitable choice and application of which occupied no small portion of the hours allotted to his toilet, made up the equipment of young four-legs. this devotion to dress and appearance seemed not altogether out of place in a youthful dandy; but we had likewise an old one of the same stamp. pawnee blanc, or the white pawnee, surpassed his younger competitor, if possible, in attention to his personal attractions. upon the present occasion he appeared in all his finery, and went through the customary salutations with an air of solemn dignity, then walked, as did the others, into the parlor (for i had received them in the hall), where they all seated themselves upon the floor. fortunately, the room was now bare of furniture, but "alas!" thought i, "for my pretty carpet, if this is to be the way they pay their respects to me!" i watched the falling of the ashes from their long pipes, and the other inconveniences of the use of tobacco, or kin-nee-kin-nick, with absolute dismay. the visit of the chiefs was succeeded by one from the interpreter and his wife, with all the canadian and half-breed women, whose husbands found employment at the agency or at the american fur company's establishment. by this time my piano had been taken from its case and set up in our quarters. to our great joy, we found it entirely uninjured. thanks to the skill of nunns and clark, not a note was out of tune. the women, to whom it was an entire novelty, were loud in their exclamations of wonder and delight. "_eh-h-h! regardez donc! quelles inventions! quelles merveilles!_"[ ] one, observing the play of my fingers reflected in the nameboard, called in great exultation to her companions. she had discovered, as she thought, the hidden machinery by which the sounds were produced, and was not a little mortified when she was undeceived. chapter ix. housekeeping. as the boats might be expected in a few days, it was thought best to begin at once what preparations were in my power towards housekeeping. these were simply the fitting and sewing of my carpets, in which i was kindly assisted by mrs. twiggs; and, the wife of one of our frenchmen having come over from the agency and made everything tidy and comfortable, the carpets were soon tacked down, and the rooms were ready for the reception of the rest of the furniture. i had made many fruitless attempts, both in detroit and green bay, to procure a servant-woman to accompany me to my new home. sometimes one would present herself, but, before we could come to a final agreement, the thoughts of the distance, of the savages, the hardships of the journey, or, perhaps, the objections of friends, would interfere to break off the negotiation; so that i had at length been obliged to rest satisfied with the simple hope held out by my husband, that one of his french employés, with his wife, would be contented to take up their abode with us. in this state of things, all difficulties seemed to be obviated by the proposal of major twiggs, that we should take into our service a young colored girl whom he had brought from buffalo, in the spring, to wait on mrs. t. until her own servants should arrive from the south. louisa was accordingly sent for, an uncommonly handsome young negress, with an intelligent but very demure countenance, who called herself fifteen years of age, but who, from the progress in vice and iniquity i afterwards discovered her to have made, must have been at least several years older. be that as it may, she now seemed to have no fault but carelessness and inexperience, both of which i had great hopes she would get the better of, under careful training. my first week's visit with mrs. twiggs had just expired when word was given that the boats were in sight--the boats that contained our furniture--and the expected arrival of louis philippe to visit queen victoria could scarcely have created a more universal sensation, than did this announcement in our little community. although we knew that some hours must yet elapse before they could reach the spot for disembarkation, we were constantly on the watch, and at length all the young officers, followed by as many of the soldiers as were off duty, accompanied mr. kinzie down the bank to the landing, to witness and, if necessary, to assist in helping everything safe to land. sad was the plight in which matters were found. the water poured out of the corners of the boxes as they were successively hoisted on shore. too impatient to wait until they could be carried up to the fort, the gentlemen soon furnished themselves with, hammers and hatchets, and fell eagerly to work, opening the boxes to explore the extent of the damage. alas for the mahogany! not a piece from which the edges and veneering were not starting. it had all the appearance of having lain under the grande chûte for days. poor hamilton was load in his protestations and excuses. it was the fault of the men, of the weather, of the way the things were packed. "confound it! he had taken the best care of the things he possibly could--better than he had ever taken before--it _would_ get done!" there was nothing but to be patient and make the best of it. and when the pretty sideboard and work-table had been thoroughly rubbed and set up, and all the little knick-knacks arranged on the mantel-piece--when the white curtains were hung at the windows, and the chairs and dining-table each in its proper place in relation to the piano, our parlor was pronounced "magnificent." at least so seemed to think hamilton, who came to give one admiring look, and to hear the music of the piano, which was a perfect novelty to him. his description of it to the young officers, after his return to the bay, was expressive of his admiration and wonder--"there it stood on its four legs! anybody might go up and touch it!" in due time the dinner- and tea-sets were carefully bestowed in the "davis," together with sundry jars of sweetmeats that i had prepared in detroit; the iron and tin utensils were placed in a neat cupboard in the kitchen, of which my piano-box supplied the frame; the barrel of eggs and tubs of butter, brought all the way from ohio, were ranged in the store-room; a suitable quantity of salt pork and flour was purchased from the commissary; and, there being no lack of game of every description, the offering of our red children, we were ready to commence housekeeping. the first dinner in her own home is an era in the life of a young housekeeper. i shall certainly never forget mine. while i was in the lower regions superintending my very inexpert little cook, my husband made his appearance, to say that, as the payment (then the all-absorbing topic of interest) would not commence until afternoon, he had invited m. rolette, mr. hempstead, and four other gentlemen to dine with us. "so unexpected--so unprepared for?" "never mind; give them anything you have. they have been living for some days in tents, and anything will taste well to them." my dinner had been intended to consist chiefly of a venison pasty, and fortunately the only dish among my store was of very large proportions, so that there was already smoking in the oven a pie of a size nearly equal to the famous norwich pudding; thus, with some trifling additions to the bill of fare, we made out very well, and the master of the house had the satisfaction of hearing the impromptu dinner very much commended by his six guests. chapter x. indian payment--mrs. washington. there were two divisions of the winnebago indians, one of which was paid by the agent, at the portage, the other at prairie du chien, by general street. the first, between four and five thousand in number, received, according to treaty stipulations, fifteen thousand dollars annually, besides a considerable amount of presents, and a certain number of rations of bread and pork, to be issued in times of emergency throughout the year. the principal villages of this division of the tribe were at lake winnebago, green and fox lakes, the barribault, mud lake, the four lakes, kosh-ko-nong, and turtle creek. messengers were dispatched, at or before the arrival of the annuity-money, to all the different villages, to notify the heads of families or lodges to assemble at "the portage." when arrived, the masters of families, under their different chiefs, give in their names, and the number in their lodges, to be registered. as, in paying, a certain sum of money is apportioned to each individual, it is, of course, an object to the head of a lodge to make the number registered as great as possible. each one brings his little bundle of sticks, and presents it to the agent to register. sometimes a dialogue like the following occurs: "how many have you in your lodge?" the indian carefully, and with great ceremony, counts his bundle of sticks--"fifteen" "how many men?" "two." the agent lays aside two sticks "how many women?" "three." three more sticks are separated. "how many children?" "eight" eight sticks are added to the heap. "what is the meaning of these two sticks that remain?" the culprit, whose arithmetic has not served him to carry out his deception, disappears amid the shouts and jeers of his companions, who are always well pleased at the detection of any roguery in which they have had no share. the young officers generally assisted in counting out and delivering the money at these payments, and it was no unusual thing, as the last band came up, for the chiefs to take a quantity of silver out of the box and request their father to pay his friends for their trouble, seeming really disturbed at his refusal. in this, as in almost every instance, we see the native courtesy and politeness, which are never lost sight of among them. if a party comes to their father to beg for provisions, and food is offered them, however hungry they may be, each waits patiently until one of the company makes an equal distribution of the whole, and then, taking his share, eats it quietly, with the greatest moderation. i never saw this rule violated, save in one instance. our friend, pawnee blanc, _the old dandy_, once came with a party of indians, requesting permission to dance for us in the open space before the door. it was a warm, dusty afternoon, and as our friends grew heated and fatigued with the violent and long-continued exercise, a pitcher of raspberry negus was prepared and sent out to them. pawnee received the pitcher and tumbler, and, pouring the latter about half full, gave it to the first of the circle, then filled the same for the next, and so on, until it suddenly occurred to him to look into the pitcher. what he saw there determined his course of action; so, setting the tumbler upon the ground, he raised the pitcher with both hands to his lips and gave a hearty pull, after which he went on, giving less and less, until he was called to have the pitcher replenished. all present agreed it was the only instance they had ever witnessed, of an indian's appearing afraid of getting less of a thing than his share. during the payment a good many kegs of whiskey find their way into the lodges of the indians, notwithstanding the watchfulness of both officers and agent. where there is a demand there will always be a supply, let the legal prohibitions be what they may. the last day of the payment is, invariably, one of general carousing. when the men begin their _frolic_, the women carefully gather all the guns, knives, tomahawks, and weapons of every description, and secrete them, that as little mischief as possible may be done in the absence of all restraint and reason. i am sorry to record that our little friend, pawnee blanc, was greatly addicted to the pleasures of the bottle. among the presents for the chiefs, which shaw-nee-aw-kee had brought from the east, was a trunk of blue cloth coats, trimmed with broad gold lace, and a box of round black hats, ornamented in a similar manner. all who are familiar with indians, of whatever tribe, will have observed that their first step towards civilization, whether in man or woman, is mounting a man's hat, decorated with tinsel; ribbons, or feathers. pawnee was among the happy number remembered in the distribution; so, donning at once his new costume, and tying a few additional bunches of gay-colored ribbons to a long spear, that was always his baton of ceremony, he came at once, followed by an admiring train, chiefly of women, to pay me a visit of state. the solemn gravity of his countenance, as he motioned away those who would approach too near and finger his newly-received finery--the dignity with which he strutted along, edging this way and that to avoid any possible contact from homely, every-day wardrobes--augured well for a continuance of propriety and self-respect, and a due consideration of the good opinion of all around. but, alas for pawnee! late in the day we saw him assisted towards his lodge by two stout young indians, who had pulled him out of a ditch, his fine coat covered with mud, his hat battered and bruised, his spear shorn of its gay streamers, and poor pawnee himself weeping and uttering all the doleful lamentations of a tipsy indian. * * * * * among the women with whom i early made acquaintance was the wife of wau-kaun-zee-kah, _the yellow thunder_. she had accompanied her husband, who was one of the deputation to visit the president, and from that time forth she had been known as "the washington woman." she had a pleasant, old-acquaintance sort of air in greeting me, as much as to say, "you and i have seen something of the world." no expression of surprise or admiration escaped her lips, as her companions, with childlike, laughing simplicity, exclaimed and clapped their hands at the different wonderful objects i showed them. her deportment said plainly, "yes, yes, my children, i have seen all these things before." it was not until i put to her ear a tropical shell, of which i had a little cabinet, and she heard its murmuring sound, that she laid aside her apathy of manner. she poked her finger into the opening to get at the animal within, shook it violently, then raised it to her ear again, and finally burst into a hearty laugh, and laid it down, acknowledging, by her looks, that this was beyond her comprehension. i had one shell of peculiar beauty--my favorite in the whole collection--a small conch, covered with rich, dark veins. each of the visitors successively took up this shell, and by words and gestures expressed her admiration, evidently showing that she had an eye for beauty--this was on the occasion of the parting visit of my red daughters. shortly after the payment had been completed, and the indians had left, i discovered that my valued shell was missing from the collection. could it be that one of the squaws had stolen it? it was possible--they would occasionally, though rarely, do such things under the influence of strong temptation. i tried to recollect which, among the party, looked most likely to have been the culprit. it could not have been the washington woman--she was partly civilized, and knew better. a few weeks afterwards mrs. _yellow thunder_ again made her appearance, and carefully unfolding a gay-colored chintz shawl, which she carried rolled up in her hand, she produced the shell, and laid it on the table before me. i did not know whether to show, by my countenance, displeasure at the trick she had played me, or joy at receiving my treasure back again, but at length decided that it was the best policy to manifest no emotion whatever. she prolonged her visit until my husband's return, and he then questioned her about the matter. "she had taken the shell to her village, to show to some of her people, who did not come to the payment." "why had she not asked her mother's leave before carrying it away?" "because she saw that her mother liked the shell, and she was afraid she would say, no." this was not the first instance in which madame washington had displayed the shrewdness which was a predominant trait in her character. during the visit of the indians to the eastern cities, they were taken to various exhibitions, museums, menageries, theatres, etc. it did not escape their observation that some silver was always paid before entrance, and they inquired the reason. it was explained to them. the woman brightened up, as if struck with an idea. "how much do you pay for each one?" her father told her. "how do you say that in english?" "two shillings." "_two shinnin--humph_" (good). the next day, when, as usual, visitors began to flock to the rooms where the indians were sojourning, the woman and a young indian, her confederate, took their station by the door, which they kept closed. when any one knocked, the door was cautiously opened, and the woman, extending her hand, exclaimed--"_two shinnin_." this was readily paid in each instance, and the game went on, until she had accumulated a considerable sum. but this did not satisfy her. at the first attempt of a visitor to leave the room, the door was held close, as before, the hand was extended, and "_two shinnin_" again met his ear. he tried to explain that, having paid for his entrance, he must go out free. with an innocent shake of the head, "_two shinnin_," was all the english she could understand. the agent, who had entered a short time before, and who, overhearing the dialogue, sat laughing behind his newspaper, waiting to see how it would all end, now came forward and interfered, and the guests were permitted to go forth without a further contribution. the good woman was moreover admonished that it was far from the custom of white people to tax their friends and visitors in this manner, and that the practice must be laid aside in future. another instance of the disposition of the indians to avail themselves of all the goods that fortune throws in their way, was the following: upon the same trip, while passing through ohio, one of the party inquired of the agent,-- "do you pay for all those provisions that are set before us at the hotels?" "yes. why do you ask?" "nothing: i thought you perhaps paid for just what we ate of them." at the next stopping-place a fine breakfast was set upon the table, of which, as usual, they partook plentifully. just as they had finished, the horn sounded for all to take their places in the stage-coaches. each sprang to his feet. one seized the plates of biscuits and poured them into the corner of his blanket; another the remains of a pair of chickens; a third emptied the sugar-bowls; each laid hold of what was nearest him, and in a trice nothing was left upon the table but the empty plates and dishes. the landlord and waiters, meanwhile, stood laughing and enjoying the trick as much as any of the spectators. upon another occasion, their father had endeavored to impress upon them the unseemliness of throwing their refuse pieces, bones, and fragments of food about on the table-cloth, pointing out to them the orderly manner of the whites at table, and the propriety of keeping everything neat and nice around them. at their next meal, they were served first with a chicken-pie, of which they ate very heartily, and the accumulation of bones on their plates was very abundant. presently another and more favorite dish appeared,--a fine, large, roasted turkey. a gentleman sat near, and was evidently preparing to carve it. no time was to be lost. what was to be done with the bones? they looked around in some perplexity. a large apple-pie was standing near. the most eager drew it towards him, and quick as thought all the bones were deposited upon it, while, with a triumphant laugh at the happy idea, he coolly transferred the bird to his own dish, and proceeded to distribute it among his companions. the amazed stranger soon joined in the laugh at the unceremonious manner in which his share of the dinner had vanished. chapter xi. louisa--day-kau-ray on education. the payment was now over, and the indians had dispersed and gone to their wintering grounds. the traders, too, had departed, laden with a good share of the silver, in exchange for which each family had provided itself, as far as possible, with clothing, guns, traps, ammunition, and the other necessaries for their winter use. the indians are good at a bargain. they are not easily overreached. on the contrary, they understand at once when a charge is exorbitant; and a trader who tries his shrewdness upon them is sure to receive an expressive _sobriquet_, which ever after clings to him. for instance, m. rolette was called by them "ah-kay-zaup-ee-tah," _five more_--because, as they said, let them offer what number of skins they might, in bartering for an article, his terms were invariably "five more" upon one occasion a lady remarked to him, "oh, m. rolette, i would not be engaged in the indian trade; it seems to me a system of cheating the poor indians." "let me tell you, madame," replied he, with great _naïveté_, "it is not so easy a thing to cheat the indians as you imagine. i have tried it these twenty years, and have never succeeded!" * * * * * we were now settled down to a quiet, domestic life. the military system under which everything was conducted--the bugle-call, followed by the music of a very good band, at reveille; the light, animated strains for "sick-call," and soon after for "breakfast;" the longer ceremony of "guard-mounting;" the "old english roast-beef," to announce the dinner-hour; the sweet, plaintive strains of "lochaber no more," followed most incongruously by "the little cock-sparrow," at retreat; and, finally, the long, rolling "tattoo," late in the evening--made pleasant divisions of our time, which, by the aid of books, music, and drawing, in addition to household occupations, seemed to fly more swiftly than ever before. it was on sunday that i most missed my eastern home. i had planned beforehand what we should do on the first recurrence of this sacred day, under our own roof. "we shall have at least," said i to myself, "the sabbath's quiet and repose, and i can, among other things, benefit poor louisa by giving her some additional lessons of a serious character." so, while she was removing the breakfast-things, i said to her,-- "now, louisa, get your work all finished, and everything put neatly aside, and then come here to me again." "yes, ma'am." we sat down to our books, and read and waited; we waited and read another hour--no louisa. there was music and the sound of voices on the parade in front of our windows, but that did not disturb us; it was what we were daily accustomed to. i must go at length, and see what could be keeping my damsel so. i descended to the kitchen. the breakfast-things stood upon the table--the kettles and spider upon the hearth--the fire was out--the kitchen empty. passing back into the hall, which extended the whole length of the house and opened in front upon the parade, i perceived a group collected in the area, of all shades and colors, and in the midst, one round, woolly head which i could not mistake, bobbing up and down, now on this side, now on that, while peals of laughter were issuing from the whole group. "louisa," i called, "come here. what are you doing there?" "looking at inspection." "but why are not your breakfast-things washed, and your kitchen swept? did i not tell you i wished you to come up and learn your lessons?" "yes, ma'am; but i had to see inspection first. everybody looks at inspection on sunday." i found it was in vain to expect to do more for louisa than give her an afternoon's lesson, and with that i was obliged to content myself. i felt that it would be very pleasant, and perhaps profitable, for all the inmates of the garrison to assemble on this day; one of our number might be found who would read a portion of the church-service, with a sermon from one of our different selections. i approached the subject cautiously, with an inquiry to this effect: "are there none among the officers who are religiously disposed?" "oh, yes," replied the one whom i addressed, "there is s----; when he is half tipsy, he takes his bible and 'newton's works,' and goes to bed and cries over them; he thinks in this way he is excessively pious." s---- was among the officers who had never called upon us; it was fair to infer that if his religious principles did not correct his own evil habits they would not aid much in improving others; therefore it seemed useless to call in his co-operation in any scheme for a better observance of the lord's day. we had to content ourselves with writing to our friends at the east to interest themselves in getting a missionary sent to us, who should officiate as chaplain in the garrison--a plan that seemed to find favor with the officers. the hope of any united religious services was, for the present, laid aside. the post-surgeon having obtained a furlough, his place was supplied by dr. newhall, of galena, and thus, by the addition of his gentle, quiet wife, our circle of ladies was now enlarged to three. here we were, in a wilderness, but yet how contented and happy! a gloom was soon to replace this envied tranquillity in our home. a frenchman, named letendre, one day suddenly presented himself. he had come from chicago, with the distressing intelligence of the extreme--indeed, hopeless--illness of our dear relative, dr. wolcott. my husband immediately commenced his preparations for instant departure. i begged to be permitted to accompany him, but the rapidity with which he proposed to journey obliged him to refuse my entreaties. in a few hours his provisions, horses, and all other things necessary for the journey were in readiness, and he set off with petaille grignon, his usual attendant on such expeditions, leaving letendre to follow as soon as recruited from his fatigue. sad and dreary were the hours of his absence, notwithstanding the kind efforts of our friends to cheer me. in a few days i received the news of the fatal termination of dr. w.'s illness, brought by another messenger. that noble heart, so full of warm and kindly affections, had ceased to beat, and sad and desolate indeed were those who had so loved and honored him. as soon as he could possibly leave his family, my husband returned; and it was fortunate that he had delayed no longer, for the winter now began to set in, and with severity. our quarters were spacious, but having been constructed of the green trees of the forest, cut down and sawed into boards by the bands of the soldiers, they were considerably given to shrinking and warping, thus leaving many a yawning crevice. stuffing the cracks with cotton batting, and pasting strips of paper over them, formed the employment of many a leisure hour. then the chimneys, spite of all the currents of air, which might have been expected to create a draught, had a sad habit of smoking. to remedy this, a couple of gun-barrels were, by order of the commanding officer, sawed off and inserted in the hearth, one on each side of the fire-place, in the hope that the air from the room below might help to carry the smoke into its proper place, the chimney. the next morning after this had been done, louisa was washing the hearth. "pray, ma'am," said she, "what are these things put in here for?" i explained their use. "oh, i am so glad it is only that! uncle ephraim (major twiggs's servant) said they were to be filled with powder and fired off christmas day, and he was terribly afraid they would blow the house up, and we in it." ephraim, who was a most faithful and valuable servant, often amused himself with playing upon the credulity of the younger portions of the colored fraternity. "is it true," asked louisa, one day, "that pillon and plante were once prairie-wolves?" "prairie-wolves! what an idea! why do you ask such a foolish question?" "because uncle ephraim says they, and all the frenchmen about here, were once prairie-wolves, and that, living so near the white people, they grow, after a time, to be like them, and learn to talk and dress like them. and then, when they get to be old, they turn back into prairie-wolves again, and that all the wolves that the officers bait with their dogs used to be frenchmen, once." after a time, however, i ceased to straighten out these stories of uncle ephraim, for i was gradually arriving at the conviction that my little colored damsel was by no means so simple and unsophisticated as she would have me believe, and that i was, after all, the one who was imposed upon. the snow this winter was prodigious, and the cold intense. the water would freeze in our parlors at a very short distance from the fire, for, although the "fatigue-parties" kept the halls filled with wood, almost up to the ceiling, that did not counterbalance the inconvenience of having the wide doors thrown open to the outer air for a great portion of the day, to allow of their bringing it in. we northerners should have had wood-houses specially for the purpose, and not only have kept our great hall-doors closed, but have likewise protected them with a "hurricane-house." but the florida frontier was not a climate in which our southern bachelors could have acquired the knowledge available when the thermometer was twenty-five degrees below zero--a point at which brandy congealed in the sideboard. the arrival of christmas and new-year's brought us our indian friends again. they had learned something of the observance of these holidays from their french neighbors, and i had been forewarned that i should see the squaws kissing every white man they met. although not crediting this to its full extent, i could readily believe that they would each expect a present, as a "compliment of the season," so i duly prepared myself with a supply of beads, ribbons, combs, and other trinkets. knowing them to be fond of dainties, i had also a quantity of crullers and doughnuts made ready the day before, as a treat to them. to my great surprise and annoyance, only a moderate share of the cakes, the frying of which had been intrusted to louisa, were brought up to be placed in the "davis." "where are the rest of the cakes, louisa?" "that great fellow, hancock, came in with the fatigue-party to fill the water-barrels, and while i had just stepped into the store-room to get some more flour, he carried off all i had got cooked." and louisa made a face and whined, as if she had not herself treated every soldier who had set his foot in the premises. at an early hour the next morning i had quite a levee of the ho-tshung-rah matrons. they seated themselves in a circle on the floor, and i was sorry to observe that the application of a little soap and water to their blankets had formed no part of their holiday preparations. there being no one to interpret, i thought i would begin the conversation in a way intelligible to themselves, so i brought out of the sideboard a china dish, filled with the nice brown crullers, over which i had grated, according to custom, a goodly quantity of white sugar. i handed it to the first of the circle. she took the dish from my hand, and, deliberately pouring all the cakes into the corner of her blanket, returned it to me empty. "she must be a meat voracious person," thought i; "but i will manage better the next time." i refilled the dish, and approached the next one, taking care to keep a fast hold of it as i offered the contents, of which i supposed she would modestly take one. not so, however. she scooped out the whole with her two hands, and, like the former, bestowed them in her blanket. my sense of politeness revolted at handing them out one by one, as we do to children, so i sat down to deliberate what was to be done, for evidently the supply would not long answer such an ample demand, and there would be more visitors anon. while i was thus perplexed, those who had received the cakes commenced a distribution, and the whole number was equitably divided among the company. but i observed they did not eat them. they passed their fingers over the grated sugar, looked in each other's faces, and muttered in low tones--there was evidently something they did not understand. presently one more adventurous than the rest wet her fingers, and taking up a few grains of the sugar put it cautiously to her mouth. "tah-nee-zhoo-rah!" (sugar!) was her delighted exclamation, and they all broke out into a hearty laugh. it is needless to say that the cakes disappeared with all the celerity they deemed compatible with good-breeding. never having seen any sugar but the brown or yellow maple, they had supposed the white substance to be salt, and for that reason had hesitated to taste it. their visit was prolonged until shaw-nee-aw-kee made his appearance, and then, having been made happy by their various gifts, they all took their departure. about this time, mr. kinzie received a letter from colonel richard m. johnson, of kentucky. this gentleman had interested himself greatly in a school established in that state for the education of indian youths and children. the purport of his letter was to request the agent to use every endeavor to induce the winnebagoes not only to send their children to this institution for their education, but also (what was still more important) to set apart a portion of their annuity-money to assist in sustaining it. there happened to be, at this holiday season, a number of the chiefs in the neighborhood of the portage, and a messenger was sent to convene them all at the house of paquette, the interpreter, that their father might hold a talk with them. on the day appointed they all assembled. the subject-matter of the letter was laid before them, and all the advantages of civilization and education duly set forth--the benefits which would arise to their nation, if even a small portion of the younger members could be well taught by the whites, and then return to their tribe, to instruct them in the learning, the arts, manufactures, and habits of civilized life. to each paragraph, as it was uttered to them, they responded with a unanimous "humph!" (good!) when their father's address was ended, _day-kau-ray_, the oldest and most venerable among the chiefs, rose and spoke as follows: "father,--the great spirit made the white man and the indian. he did not make them alike. he gave the white man a heart to love peace, and the arts of a quiet life. he taught him to live in towns, to build houses, to make books, to learn all things that would make him happy and prosperous in the way of life appointed him. to the red man the great spirit gave a different character. he gave him a love of the woods, of a free life, of hunting and fishing, of making war with his enemies and taking scalps. the white man does not live like the indian--it is not his nature. neither does the indian love to live like the white man--the great spirit did not make him so. "father,--we do not wish to do anything contrary to the will of the great spirit. if he had made us with white skins, and characters like the white men, then we would send our children to this school to be taught like the white children. "father,--we think that if the great spirit had wished us to be like the whites, he would have made us so. as he has not seen fit to do so, we believe he would be displeased with us, to try and make ourselves different from what he thought good. "father,--i have nothing more to say. this is what we think. if we change our minds, we will let you know." it will be seen from these remarks of day-kau-ray that the indians entertain a conviction that the great spirit himself teaches the white man the arts and sciences, and since he has given the red man no instruction in these branches, it would be unbecoming in him to attempt to acquire them in an irregular manner. with little incidents of this kind, and with an occasional dinner- or tea-party to the young officers, sometimes given at the major's quarters, sometimes at our own, our course of life passed pleasantly on. at times i would amuse myself by making something _very nice_, in the form of a fruit cake or pie, to send to the quarters of the young officers as a present, it being supposed that possibly, without a lady to preside over their mess, it might be sometimes deficient in these delicacies. mrs. twiggs was so fortunate as to have well-trained servants to do for her that which, thanks to my little dark handmaid, always fell to my share. one day i had made some mince pies, which the major and my husband greatly approved, and i thought i would send one to each of the young officers. it happened that my husband, that day, in returning from superintending his men on the other side of the river, had occasion to call on some errand at captain harney's quarters. dinner had just been placed upon the table, and the captain insisted on his visitor's sitting down and partaking with him and another gentleman who was present. the pork and beans were pronounced excellent, and being removed there followed a mince pie. the captain cut it, and helped his guests, then taking a piece himself, he commenced tasting it. pushing back his plate with an exclamation and a sudden jerk, he called to his servant, a little thick-set mulatto who waited--"david, you yellow rascal, how dare you put such a pie on my table?" and, turning to the company apologetically, he said,-- "if there is anything on earth david _does_ understand, it is how to make a mince pie, and here he has filled this with brandy, so we cannot eat a morsel of it!" "please, sir," said david, modestly, "i did not make the pie--it is one mrs. kinzie sent as a present." the poor captain was now in a predicament. he raved at himself, at the same time conjuring my husband most earnestly not to tell me what a mistake he had made--an injunction that was lost sight of as soon as the latter returned to his home. as for the unlucky captain, he did not venture to call on me again until he felt sure i had forgotten the circumstance. chapter xii. preparations for a journey. early in january the snow fell in great abundance. we had an unusual quantity at the portage, but in "the diggings," as the lead-mining country was called, it was of an unheard-of depth--five or six feet upon a level. an express had been dispatched to chicago by the officers to take our letters, and bring back the mail from that place. a tough, hardy soldier, named sulky, acted as messenger, and he had hitherto made light of his burden or the length of the way, notwithstanding that his task was performed on foot with his pack upon his shoulders. but now sulky had been absent some weeks, and we had given him up entirely, persuaded that he must have perished with cold and starvation. at length he appeared, nearly blind from travelling in the snow. he had lain by three weeks in an indian lodge, the snow being too deep to permit him to journey. the account he gave put an end to the hopes i had begun to entertain of being able to visit our friends at chicago in the course of this winter. we had, before the last heavy fall of snow, been forming plans to that effect. captain harney had kindly commenced preparing some trains, or boxes placed on sledges, which it was thought would, when lined with buffalo-skins, furnish a very comfortable kind of vehicle for the journey; and i was still inclined to think a good, deep bed of snow over the whole country no great obstacle to a sleigh-ride. the whole matter was, however, cut short by the commanding officer, who from the first had violently opposed the scheme, declaring that he would order the sentinels to fire on us if we attempted to leave the fort. so, finding the majority against us, we were obliged to yield. the arrival of sweet, lovely little lizzie twiggs, before january was quite past, was an event that shed light and joy in at least two dwellings. it seemed as if she belonged to all of us, and as she increased in size and beauty it was hard to say who, among us all, was most proud of her. if we had ever felt any languid hours before, we could have none now--she was the pet, the darling, the joint property of both households. whatever regret i might have had, previous to this event, at the idea of leaving my friend for the three weeks to which we proposed to limit our visit to chicago, i felt now that she would scarcely miss me, and that we might hold ourselves in readiness to take advantage of the first improvement in the weather, to put this favorite project in execution. during the latter part of february the cold became less severe. the snows melted away, and by the beginning of march the weather was so warm and genial, that we were quite confident of being able to make the journey on horseback without any serious difficulty. our plans once settled upon, the first thing to be provided was warm and comfortable apparel. a riding-habit of stout broadcloth was pronounced indispensable to my equipment. but of such an article i was destitute. nothing among my wedding travelling gear seemed in any way to offer a substitute. what was to be done? the requisite material was to be found in abundance at the sutler's store (_the shantee_, as it was technically termed), but how to get it manufactured into a suitable garment was the question. the regimental tailor was summoned. he was cook to one of the companies, and there were at first some doubts whether he could be permitted to forsake the spit for the needle, during the time i should require his services. all his tailoring-work had, heretofore, been done at odd times on a bench in the company kitchen, and thither he now proposed to carry the riding-habit. i suggested that, in order to superintend the work, i should thus be driven to take up my abode for the time being in the barracks, which would be a decided inconvenience. to remedy the difficulty, he was finally so happy as to find a soldier in "company d," who consented to officiate in his place as cook until his term of service to me should expire. behold, then, a little, solemn-looking man in his stocking-feet, seated cross-legged on an indian mat by my parlor window. he had made all his arrangements himself, and i deemed it wisest not to interfere with him. the cutting-out was the most difficult part, and, as he had never made a lady's riding-habit, that task fell to my share. i was as great a novice as himself, and i must admit that this, my first effort, was open to criticism. but the little tailor was of a different opinion. he was in an ecstasy with our joint performance. "upon my word, madam," he would exclaim, surveying it with admiring eyes, "we shall have a very respectable garment!" i do not know how many times he repeated this during the three days that the work was in progress. i believe he had not perfect confidence in the culinary powers of his comrade of "company d," for regularly a half-hour before beat of drum his work was folded and laid aside, his snips gathered up, and, all things being restored to order, he would slip out, resume his shoes, which, _turk-like_, he had left outside the door, and speed over to the barrack-kitchen to see how matters were going on. in the mean time, great preparations were making below, under the supervision of our tidy, active little french servant, mrs. pillon, the wife of one of the _engagés_, by whom the irregular and unmanageable louisa had been replaced. biscuits were baked, a ham, some tongues, and sundry pieces of salt pork were boiled, coffee roasted and ground, sugar cracked, isinglass cut in pieces of the size requisite for a pot of coffee. for the reception of all these different articles cotton bags of different sizes had been previously prepared. large sacks of skin, called by the canadians _porches_, were also provided to hold the more bulky provisions, for our journey was to be a long one. the distance from fort winnebago to chicago was not very formidable, it is true, if the direct route were taken; but that we knew to be impossible at this season of the year. the route by kosh-ko-nong was out of the question; all the indians being absent from their villages in the winter, and the ice being now gone, we could have no means of crossing the rock river at that place. there remained therefore no alternative but to proceed south to dixon, or, as it was then called, ogie's ferry, the only certain means of crossing this broad and rapid stream. this route being so much out of our direct course that we could not hope to accomplish it in less than six days, it was necessary to prepare accordingly. while the wardrobe and provisions were thus in preparation, arrangements were also being made as to our retinue and mode of conveyance. mr. kinzie decided to take with him but two men: plante and pierre roy,--the former to act as guide, on the assurance that he knew every mile of the way, from the portage to ogie's ferry, and from ogie's ferry to chicago. the claims of the different saddle-horses were discussed, and the most eligible one was selected for my use. we hesitated for a time between "le gris" and "souris," two much-vaunted animals, belonging to paquette, the interpreter. at length, being determined, like most of my sex, by a regard for exterior, i chose "le gris," and "souris" was assigned to young roy; my own little stumpy pony, "brunet," being pronounced just the thing for a pack-saddle. my husband rode his own bay horse "tom," while plante, the gayest and proudest of the party, bestrode a fine, large animal called "jerry," which had lately been purchased for my use; and thus was our _cortége_ complete. chapter xiii. departure from fort winnebago. having taken a tender leave of our friends, the morning of the th of march saw us mounted and equipped for our journey. the weather was fine--the streams, already fringed with green, were sparkling in the sun--everything gave promise of an early and genial season. in vain, when we reached the ferry at the foot of the hill on which the fort stood, did major twiggs repeat his endeavors to dissuade us from commencing a journey which he assured me would be perilous beyond what i could anticipate. i was resolute. our party was augmented by an escort of all the young officers, who politely insisted on accompanying us as far as duck creek, four miles distant. indeed, there were some who would gladly have prosecuted the whole journey with us, and escaped the monotony of their solitary, uneventful life. in our rear followed an ox cart, on which was perched a canoe, destined to transport us over the creek, and also an extensive marsh beyond it, which was invariably, at this season, overflowed with water to a considerable depth. we had much amusement in watching the progress of this vehicle as it bumped and thumped over the road, unconscious hitherto of the dignity of a wheeled carriage. our little, shock-headed, sunburnt, thick-lipped canadian (who happened most miraculously to be the husband of my pretty servant, mrs. pillon) shouted vociferously as the animals lagged in their pace, or jolted against a stump, "_marchez, don-g_," "_regardez_," "_prenez garde_," to our infinite diversion. i was in high spirits, foreseeing no hardships or dangers, but rather imagining myself embarked on a pleasure excursion across the prairies. it had not even suggested itself to me that a straw bonnet and kid gloves were no suitable equipment for such an expedition. never having travelled at so inclement a season, i was heedlessly ignorant of the mode of preparing against it, and had resisted or laughed at my husband's suggestions to provide myself with blanket socks, and a woollen _capuchon_ for my head and shoulders. and now, although the wind occasionally lifted my head-gear with a rude puff, and my hands ere long became swollen and stiffened with the cold, i persuaded myself that these were trifling evils, to which i should soon get accustomed. i was too well pleased with the novelty of my outfit, with my hunting-knife in a gay scabbard hanging from my neck, and my tin cup at my saddle-bow, to regard minor inconveniences. on reaching duck creek, we took leave of our young friends, who remained on the bank long enough to witness our passage across--ourselves in the canoe, and the poor horses swimming the stream, now filled with cakes of floating ice. beyond the rising ground which formed the opposite bank of the stream, extended a marsh of perhaps three hundred yards across. to this the men carried the canoe which was to bear us over. the water was not deep, so our attendants merely took off the pack from brunet and my side-saddle from le gris, for fear of accidents, and then mounted their own steeds, leading the two extra ones. my husband placed the furniture of the pack-horse and my saddle in the centre of the canoe, which he was to paddle across. "now, wifie," said he, "jump in, and seat yourself flat in the bottom of the canoe." "oh, no," said i; "i will sit on the little trunk in the centre; i shall be so much more comfortable, and i can balance the canoe exactly." "as you please; but i think you will find it is not the best way." a vigorous push sent us a few feet from the bank. at that instant two favorite greyhounds whom we had brought with us, and who had stood whining upon the bank, reluctant to take to the water as they were ordered, gave a sudden bound, and alighted full upon me. the canoe balanced a moment--then yielded--and, quick as thought, dogs, furniture, and lady were in the deepest of the water. my husband, who was just preparing to spring into the canoe when the dogs thus unceremoniously took precedence of him, was at my side in a moment, and, seizing me by the collar of my cloak, begged me not to be frightened. i was not, in the least, and only laughed as he raised and placed me again upon the bank. the unfortunate saddle and little trunk were then rescued, but not until they had received a pretty thorough wetting. our merriment was still further increased by the sight of the maladroit pillon, who was attempting to ride my spirited jerry across the marsh. he was clinging to the neck of the animal, with a countenance distorted with terror, as he shouted forth all manner of french objurgations. jerry pranced and curveted, and finally shot forward his rider, or rather his _burden_, headforemost, a distance of several feet into the water. a general outcry of mirth saluted the unfortunate frenchman, which was redoubled as he raised himself puffing and snorting from his watery bed and waddled back to his starting-place, the horse, meanwhile, very sensibly making his way to join his companions, who had already reached the farther bank. "well, wifie," said mr. kinzie, "i cannot trust you in the canoe again. there is no way but to carry you across the marsh like a pappoose. will you take a ride on my shoulders?" "with all my heart, if you will promise to take me safely." and i was soon mounted. i most confess that the gentleman staggered now and then under his burden, which was no slight one, and i was sadly afraid, more than once, that i should meet a similar fate to old pillon, but happily we reached the other side in safety. there my husband insisted on my putting on dry shoes and stockings, and (must i confess it?) drinking a little brandy, to obviate the effects of my icy bath. he would fain have made a halt to kindle a fire and dry my apparel and wardrobe properly, but this i would not listen to. i endeavored to prove to him that the delay would expose me to more cold than riding in my wet habit and cloak, and so indeed it might have been, but along with my convictions upon the subject there was mingled a spice of reluctance that our friends at the fort should have an opportunity, as they certainly would have done, of laughing at our inauspicious commencement. soon our horses were put in order, and our march recommenced. the day was fine for the season. i felt no inconvenience from my wet garments, the exercise of riding taking away all feeling of chilliness. it was to me a new mode of travelling, and i enjoyed it the more from having been secluded for more than five months within the walls of the fort, scarcely varying the tenor of our lives by an occasional walk of half a mile into the surrounding woods. we had still another detention upon the road, from meeting lapierre, the blacksmith, from sugar creek, who with one of his associates was going to the portage for supplies, so that we had not travelled more than twenty-three miles when we came to our proposed encamping-ground. it was upon a beautiful stream, a tributary of one of the four lakes,[ ] that chain whose banks are unrivalled for romantic loveliness. i could not but admire the sagacity of the horses, who seemed, with human intelligence, to divine our approach to the spot where their toils were to cease. while still remote from the point of woods which foretold a halt, they pricked up their ears, accelerated their pace, and finally arrived at the spot on a full gallop. we alighted at an open space, just within the verge of the wood, or, as it is called by western travellers, "the timber." my husband recommended to me to walk about until a fire should be made, which was soon accomplished by our active and experienced woodsmen, to whom the felling of a large tree was the work of a very few minutes. the dry grass around furnished an excellent tinder, which, ignited by the sparks from the flint (there were no _loco-focos_ in those days), and aided by the broken branches and bits of light-wood, soon produced a cheering flame. "the bourgeois," in the mean time, busied himself in setting up the tent, taking care to place it opposite the fire, but in such a direction that the wind would carry the smoke and flame away from the opening or door. within upon the ground were spread, first a bear-skin, then two or three blankets (of which each equestrian had carried two, one under the saddle and one above it), after which, the remainder of the luggage being brought in, i was able to divest myself of all my wet clothing and replace it with dry. some idea of the state of the thermometer may be formed from the fact that my riding-habit, being placed over the end of the huge log against which our fire was made, was, in a very few minutes, frozen so stiff as to stand upright, giving the appearance of a dress out of which a lady had vanished in some unaccountable manner. it would be but a repetition of our experience upon the fox river to describe the ham broiled upon the "broches," the toasted bread, the steaming coffee, the primitive table-furniture. there is, however, this difference, that of the latter we carry with us in our journeys on horseback only a coffee-pot, a tea-kettle, and each rider his tin cup and hunting-knife. the deportment at table is marked by an absence of ceremony. the knife is drawn from the scabbard--those who remember to do so, vouchsafe it a wipe upon the napkin. its first office is to stir the cup of coffee--next, to divide the piece of ham which is placed on the half of a travelling biscuit, held in the left hand, to fulfil the office of a plate. it is an art only to be acquired by long practice, to cut the meat so skilfully as not at the same time to destroy the dish. we take our places around the mat to enjoy what, after our fatiguing ride, we find delicious food. the frenchmen are seated at a little distance, receiving their supplies of coffee, meat, and bread, and occasionally passing jokes with the bourgeois, who is their demi-god, and for whom their respect and devotion are never lessened by his affability or condescension. the meal being finished, the table-furniture is rinsed in hot water and set aside until morning. a wisp of dry prairie-grass is supposed in most cases to render the knife fit to be restored to the scabbard, and there being, at this season of the year, no amusement but that of watching the awkward movements of the spancelled horses in their progress from spot to spot in search of pasturage, we are usually soon disposed to arrange our blankets and retire to rest. at break of day we are aroused by the shout of the bourgeois,-- "how! how! how!" all start from their slumbers. the fire, which has been occasionally replenished through the night, is soon kindled into a flame. the horses are caught and saddled, while a breakfast, similar in kind to the meal of the preceding evening, is preparing--the tent is struck--the pack-horse loaded--"_tout démanché_," as the canadian says. the breakfast finished, we rinse our kettles and cups, tie them to our saddle-bows, and then mount and away, leaving our fire, or rather our smoke, to tell of our visit. march th.--our journey this day led us past the first of the four lakes. scattered along its banks was an encampment of winnebagoes. they greeted their father with vociferous joy--"_bon-jour, bon-jour, shaw-nee-aw-kee_," "_hee-nee-kar-ray-kay-noo?_" (how do you do?) to this succeeded the usual announcement, "_wys-kap-rah tshoonsh-koo-nee-noh!_" (i have no bread.) this is their form of begging; but we could not afford to be generous, for the uncertainty of obtaining a supply, should our own be exhausted, obliged us to observe the strictest economy. how beautiful the entrapment looked in the morning sun! the matted lodges, with the blue smoke curling from their tops--the trees and bushes powdered with a light snow which had fallen through the night--the lake, shining and sparkling, almost at our feet--even the indians, in their peculiar costume, adding to the picturesque! i was sorry to leave it, as we were compelled to do, in all haste, souris, the pack-horse, having taken it into his head to decamp while we were in conversation with our red friends. as he had, very sensibly, concluded to pursue his journey in the right direction, we had the good fortune to overtake him after a short race, and, having received much scolding and some blows from young roy, whose charge he specially was, he was placed in the middle of the cavalcade, as a mark of disgrace for his breach of duty. our road, after leaving the lake, lay over a "rolling prairie," now bare and desolate enough. the hollows were filled with snow, which, being partly thawed, furnished an uncertain footing for the horses, and i could not but join in the ringing laughter of oar frenchmen as occasionally brunet and souris, the two ponies, would flounder, almost imbedded, through the yielding mass. even the vainglorious plante, who piqued himself on his equestrian skill, was once or twice nearly unhorsed, from having chosen his road badly. sometimes the elevations were covered with a thicket or copse, in which our dogs would generally rouse up one or more deer. their first bound, or "lope," was the signal for a chase. the horses seemed to enter into the spirit of it, as "halloo" answered "halloo;" but we were never so fortunate as to get a shot at one, for although the dogs once or twice caught they were not strong enough to hold them. it was about the middle of the afternoon when we reached the blue mound. i rejoiced much to have got so far, for i was sadly fatigued, and every mile now seemed like two to me. in fact, the miles are unconscionably long in this country. when i was told that we had still seven miles to go, to "morrison's," where we proposed stopping for the night, i was almost in despair. it was my first journey on horseback, and i had not yet become inured to the exercise. when we reached morrison's i was so much exhausted that, as my husband attempted to lift me from the saddle, i fell into his arms. "this will never do," said he. "to-morrow we must turn our faces towards fort winnebago again." the door opened hospitably to receive us. we were welcomed by a lady with a most sweet, benignant countenance, and by her companion, some years younger. the first was mrs. morrison--the other, miss elizabeth dodge, daughter of general dodge. my husband laid me upon a small bed, in the room where the ladies had been sitting at work. they took off my bonnet and riding-dress, chafed my hands, and prepared me some warm wine and water, by which i was soon revived. a half-hour's repose so refreshed me that i was able to converse with the ladies, and to relieve my husband's mind of all anxiety on my account. tea was announced soon after, and we repaired to an adjoining building, for morrison's, like the establishment of all settlers of that period, consisted of a group of detached log houses or _cabins_, each containing one or at most two apartments. the table groaned with good cheer, and brought to mind some that i had seen among the old-fashioned dutch residents on the banks of the hudson. i had recovered my spirits, and we were quite a cheerful party. mrs. morrison told us that during the first eighteen months she passed in this country she did not speak with a white woman, the only society she had being that of her husband and two black servant-women. a tennessee woman had called in with her little son just before tea, and we amused mr. kinzie with a description of the pair. the mother's visit was simply one of courtesy. she was a little, dumpy woman, with a complexion burned perfectly red by the sun, and hair of an exact tow-color, braided up from her forehead in front and from her neck behind. these tails, meeting on the top of her head, were fastened with a small tin comb. her dress was of checkered homespun, a "very tight fit," and, as she wore no ruff or handkerchief around her neck, she looked as if just prepared for execution. she was evidently awestruck at the sight of visitors, and seemed inclined to take her departure at once; but the boy, not so easily intimidated, would not understand her signs and pinches until he had sidled up to mrs. morrison, and, drawing his old hat still farther over his eyes, begged for a _whang_, meaning a narrow strip of deer-skin. the lady very obligingly cut one from a large smoked skin, which she produced from its receptacle, and mother and son took their leave, with a smiling but rather a scared look. after tea we returned to mrs. morrison's parlor, where she kindly insisted on my again reposing myself on the little bed, to recruit me, as she said, for the ensuing day's journey. my husband, in the mean time, went to look after the accommodation of his men and horses. during the conversation that ensued, i learned that mrs. morrison had passed much time in the neighborhood of my recent home in oneida county, that many of the friends i had loved and valued were likewise her friends, and that she had even proposed to visit me at fort winnebago on hearing of my arrival there, in order to commence an acquaintance which had thus been brought about by other and unexpected means. long and pleasant was the discourse we held together until a late hour, and mutual was the satisfaction with which we passed old friends and by-gone events in review, much to the edification of miss dodge, and of the gentlemen when they once more joined us. chapter xiv. william s. hamilton--kellogg's grove. the next morning, after a cheerful breakfast, at which we were joined by the rev. mr. kent, of galena, we prepared for our journey. i had reconciled my husband to continuing our route towards chicago, by assuring him that i felt as fresh and bright as when i first set out from home. there seemed some apprehension, however, that we might have difficulty in "striking the trail" to hamilton's _diggings_, our next point of destination. the directions we received were certainly obscure. we were to pursue a given trail for a certain number of miles, when we should come to a crossing into which we were to turn, taking an easterly direction; after a time, this would bring us to a deep trail leading straight to hamilton's. in this open country there are no landmarks. one elevation is so exactly like another, that if you lose your trail there is almost as little hope of regaining it as of finding a pathway in the midst of the ocean.[ ] the trail, it must be remembered, is not a broad highway, but a narrow path, deeply indented by the hoofs of the horses on which the indians travel in single file. so deeply is it sunk in the sod which covers the prairies, that it is difficult, sometimes, to distinguish it at a distance of a few rods. it was new ground to mr. kinzie, whose journeys from the portage to chicago had hitherto been made in the direct route by kosh-ko-nong. he therefore obliged mr. morrison to repeat the directions again and again, though plante, our guide, swaggered and talked big, averring that "he knew every hill and stream and point of woods from that spot to chicago." we had not proceeded many miles on our journey, however, before we discovered that monsieur plante was profoundly ignorant of the country, so that mr. kinzie was obliged to take the lead himself, and make his way as he was best able, according to the directions he had received. nothing, however, like the "cross trails" we had been promised met our view, and the path on which we had set out diverged so much from what we knew to be the right direction, that we were at length compelled to abandon it altogether. we travelled the livelong day, barely making a halt at noon to bait our horses and refresh ourselves with a luncheon. the ride was as gloomy and desolate as could well be imagined. a rolling prairie, unvaried by forest or stream--hillock rising after hillock, at every ascent of which we vainly hoped to see a distant fringe of "_timber_." but the same cheerless, unbounded prospect everywhere met the eye, diversified only here and there by the oblong openings, like gigantic graves, which marked an unsuccessful search for indications of a lead-mine. so great was our anxiety to recover our trail, for the weather was growing more cold, and the wind more sharp and piercing, that we were not tempted to turn from our course even by the appearance, more than once, of a gaunt prairie-wolf, peering over the nearest rising-ground and seeming to dare us to an encounter. the frenchmen, it is true, would instinctively give a shout and spur on their horses, while the hounds, kelda and cora, would rush to the chase; but the bourgeois soon called them back, with a warning that we must attend strictly to the prosecution of our journey. just before sunset we crossed, with some difficulty, a muddy stream, which was bordered by a scanty belt of trees, making a tolerable encamping-ground; and of this we gladly availed ourselves, although we knew not whether it was near or remote from the place we were in search of. we had ridden at least fifty miles since leaving morrison's, yet i was sensible of very little fatigue; there was, however, a vague feeling of discomfort at the idea of being lost in this wild, cold region, altogether different from anything i had ever before experienced. the encouraging tones of my husband's voice, however, "cheer up, wifie--we will find the trail to-morrow," served to dissipate all uneasiness. the exertions of the men soon made our "camp" comfortable, notwithstanding the difficulty of driving the tent-pins into the frozen ground, and the want of trees sufficiently large to make a _rousing_ fire. the place was a _stony side-hill,_ as it would be called in new england, where such things abound; but we were not disposed to be fastidious, so we ate our salt ham and toasted our bread, and lent a pleased ear to the chatter of our frenchmen, who could not sufficiently admire the heroism of "madame john" amid the vicissitudes that befell her. the wind, which at bed-time was sufficiently high to be uncomfortable, increased during the night. it snowed heavily, and we were every moment in dread that the tent would be carried away; but the matter was settled differently by the snapping of the poles, and the falling of the whole, with its superincumbent weight of snow, in a mass upon us. mr. kinzie roused up his men, and at their head he sallied into the neighboring wood to cut a new set of poles, leaving me to bear the burden of the whole upon my shoulders, my only safety from the storm being to keep snugly housed beneath the canvas. with some difficulty a sort of support was at length adjusted for the tent-covering, which answered our purpose tolerably well until the break of day, when our damp and miserable condition made us very glad to rise and hang round the fire until breakfast was dispatched, and the horses once more saddled for our journey. the prospect was not an encouraging one. around us was an unbroken sheet of snow. we had no compass, and the air was so obscured by the driving sleet, that it was often impossible to tell in which direction the sun was. i tied my husband's silk pocket-handkerchief over my veil, to protect my face from the wind and icy particles with which the air was filled, and which cut like a razor; but, although shielded in every way that circumstances rendered possible, i suffered intensely from the cold. we pursued our way, mile after mile, entering every point of woods, in hopes of meeting with, at least, some indian wigwam at which we could gain intelligence. every spot was solitary and deserted; not even the trace of a recent fire, to cheer us with the hope of human beings within miles of us. suddenly, a shout from the foremost of the party made each heart bound with joy. "_une clôture! une clôture!_" (a fence! a fence!) it was almost like life to the dead. we spurred on, and indeed perceived a few straggling rails crowning a rising ground at no great distance. never did music sound so sweet as the crowing of a cock which at this moment saluted our ears. following the course of the inclosure down the opposite slope, we came upon a group of log cabins, low, shabby, and unpromising in their appearance, but a most welcome shelter from the pelting storm. "whose cabins are these?" asked mr. kinzie, of a man who was cutting wood at the door of one. "hamilton's," was his reply; and he stepped forward at once to assist us to alight, hospitality being a matter of course in these wild regions. we were shown into the most comfortable-looking of the buildings. a large fire was burning in the clay chimney, and the room was of a genial warmth, notwithstanding the apertures, many inches in width, beside the doors and windows. a woman in a tidy calico dress, and shabby black silk cap trimmed with still shabbier lace, rose from her seat beside a sort of bread-trough, which fulfilled the office of cradle to a fine, fat baby. she made room for us at the fire, but was either too timid or too ignorant to relieve me of wrappings and defences, now heavy with the snow. i soon contrived, with my husband's aid, to disembarrass myself of them; and, having seen me comfortably disposed of, and in a fair way to be thawed after my freezing ride, he left me, to see after his men and horses. he was a long time absent, and i expected he would return accompanied by our host; but when he reappeared it was to tell me, laughing, that mr. hamilton hesitated to present himself before me, being unwilling that one who had been acquainted with his family at the east should see him in his present mode of life. however, this feeling apparently wore off, for before dinner he came in and was introduced to me, and was as agreeable and polite as the son of alexander hamilton would naturally be. the housekeeper, who was the wife of one of the miners, prepared us a plain, comfortable dinner, and a table as long as the dimensions of the cabin would admit was set out, the end nearest the fire being covered with somewhat nicer furniture and more delicate fare than the remaining portion. the blowing of a horn was the signal for the entrance of ten or twelve miners, who took their places below us at the table. they were the roughest-looking set of men i ever beheld, and their language was as uncouth as their persons. they wore hunting-shirts, trowsers, and moccasins of deer-skin, the former being ornamented at the seams with a fringe of the same, while a colored belt around the waist, in which was stuck a large hunting-knife, gave each the appearance of a brigand. mr. hamilton, although so much their superior, was addressed by them uniformly as "uncle billy;" and i could not but fancy there was something desperate about them, that it was necessary to propitiate by this familiarity. this feeling was further confirmed by the remarks of one of the company who lingered behind after the rest of the _gang_ had taken their departure. he had learned that we came from fort winnebago, and, having informed us that "he was a discharged soldier, and would like to make some inquiries about his old station and comrades," he unceremoniously seated himself and commenced questioning us. the bitterness with which he spoke of his former officers made me quite sure he was a deserter, and i rather suspected he had made his escape from the service in consequence of some punishment. his countenance was fairly distorted as he spoke of captain h., to whose company he had belonged. "there is a man in the mines," said he, "who has been in his hands, and if he ever gets a chance to come within shot of him, i guess the captain will remember it. he knows well enough he darsn't set his foot in the diggings. and there's t. is not much better. everybody thought it a great pity that fellow's gun snapped when he so nearly _had_ him at green bay." having delivered himself of these sentiments, he marched out, to my great relief. mr. hamilton passed most of the afternoon with us; for the storm raged so without, that to proceed on our journey was out of the question. he gave us many pleasant anecdotes and reminiscences of his early life in new york, and of his adventures since he had come to the western wilderness. when obliged to leave us for awhile, he furnished us with some books to entertain us, the most interesting of which was the biography of his father. could this illustrious man have foreseen in what a scene--the dwelling of his son--this book was to be one day perused, what would have been his sensations? the most amusing part of our experience was yet to come. i had been speculating, as evening approached, on our prospects for the night's accommodation. as our pale, melancholy-looking landlady and her fat baby were evidently the only specimens of the feminine gender about the establishment, it was hardly reasonable to suppose that any of the other cabins contained wherewithal to furnish us a comfortable lodging, and the one in which we were offered nothing of the sort to view, but two beds, uncurtained, extended against the farther wall. my doubts were after a time resolved, by observing the hostess stretch a cord between the two, on which she hung some petticoats and extra garments, by way of a partition, after which she invited us to occupy one of them. my only preparation was, to wrap my cloak around me and lie down with my face to the wall; but the good people were less ceremonious, for at the distance of scarcely two feet, we could not be mistaken in the sound of their garments being, not "laid aside," but whipped over the partition-wall between us. our waking thoughts, however, were only those of thankfulness for so comfortable a lodging after the trials and fatigues we had undergone; and even these were of short duration, for our eyes were soon closed in slumber. the next day's sun rose clear and bright. refreshed and invigorated, we looked forward with pleasure to a recommencement of our journey, confident of meeting no more mishaps by the way. mr. hamilton kindly offered to accompany us to his next neighbor's, the trifling distance of twenty-five miles. from kellogg's to ogie's ferry, on the rock river, the road being much travelled, we should be in no danger, mr. h. said, of again losing our way. the miner who owned the wife and baby, and who, consequently, was somewhat more humanized than his comrades, in taking leave of us "wished us well out of the country, and that we might never have occasion to return to it!" "i pity a body," said he, "when i see them making such an awful mistake as to come out this way; for comfort _never touched_ this western country." we found mr. hamilton as agreeable a companion as on the preceding day, but a most desperate rider. he galloped on at such a rate that, had i not exchanged my pony for the fine, noble jerry, i should have been in danger of being left behind. well mounted as we all were, he sometimes nearly distanced us. we were now among the branches of the pickatonick, and the country had lost its prairie character and become rough and broken. we went dashing on, sometimes down ravines, sometimes through narrow passes, where, as i followed, i left fragments of my veil upon the projecting and interwoven branches. once my hat became entangled, and, had not my husband sprung to my rescue, i must have shared the fate of absalom, jerry's ambition to keep his place in the race making it probable he would do as did the mule who was under the unfortunate prince. there was no halting upon the route, and, as we kept the same pace until three o'clock in the afternoon, it was beyond a question that when we reached "kellogg's" we had travelled at least thirty miles. one of my greatest annoyances during the ride had been the behavior of the little beast brunet. he had been hitherto used as a saddle-horse, and had been accustomed to a station in the file near the guide or leader. he did not relish being put in the background as a pack-horse, and accordingly, whenever we approached a stream, where the file broke up to permit each horseman to choose his own place of fording, it was, invariably the case that just as i was reining jerry into the water, brunet would come rushing past and throw himself into our very footsteps. plunging, snorting, and splashing me with water, and sometimes even starting jerry into a leap aside, he more than once brought me into imminent danger of being tossed into the stream. it was in vain that, after one or two such adventures, i learned to hold back and give the vexatious little animal the precedence. his passion seemed to be to go into the water precisely at the moment jerry did; and i was obliged at last to make a bargain with young roy to dismount and hold him at every stream until i had got safely across. "kellogg's"[ ] was a comfortable mansion, just within the verge of a pleasant "grove of timber," as a small forest is called by western travellers. we found mrs. kellogg a very respectable-looking matron, who soon informed us she was from the city of new york. she appeared proud and delighted to entertain mr. hamilton, for whose family, she took occasion to tell us, she had, in former days, been in the habit of doing needle-work. the worthy woman provided us an excellent dinner, and afterwards installed me in a rocking-chair beside a large fire, with the "life of mrs. fletcher" to entertain me, while the gentlemen explored the premises, visited mr. kellogg's stock, and took a careful look at their own. we had intended to go to dixon's the same afternoon, but the snow, beginning again to fall, obliged us to content ourselves where we were. in the mean time, finding we were journeying to chicago, mr. kellogg came to the determination to accompany us, having, as he said, some business to accomplish at that place: so mrs. kellogg busied herself in preparing him to set off with us the following morning. i pleaded hard to remain yet another day, as the following was sunday, on which i objected to travel; but in view of the necessities of the case, the uncertainty of the weather, and the importance of getting as quickly as possible through this wild country, my objections were overruled, and i could only obtain a delay in starting until so late in the afternoon as would give us just time to ride the sixteen miles to "dixon's" before sunset. no great time was required for mr. kellogg's preparations. he would take, he said, only two days' provisions, for at his brother-in-law dixon's we should get our supper and breakfast, and the route from there to chicago could, he well knew, be accomplished in a day and a half. although, according to this calculation, we had sufficient remaining of our stores to carry us to the end of our journey, yet my husband took the precaution of begging mrs. kellogg to bake us another bag of biscuits, in case of accidents, and he likewise suggested to mr. kellogg the prudence of furnishing himself with something more than his limited allowance; but the good man objected that he was unwilling to burden his horse more than was absolutely necessary, seeing that, at this season of the year, we were obliged to carry fodder for the animals, in addition to the rest of their load. it will be seen that we had reason to rejoice in our own foresight. my experience of the previous night had rendered me somewhat less fastidious than when i commenced my journey, so that, when introduced to our sleeping-apartment, which i found we were to share with six men, travellers like ourselves, my only feeling was one of thankfulness that each bed was furnished with a full suit of blue checked curtains, which formed a very tolerable substitute for a dressing-room. chapter xv. rock river--hours of trouble. it was late on the following day (march th) when we took leave of our kind hostess. she loaded us with cakes, good wishes, and messages to her sister dixon and the children. we journeyed pleasantly along through a country beautiful in spite of its wintry appearance. there was a house at buffalo grove, at which we stopped for half an hour, and where a nice-looking young girl presented us with some maple-sugar of her own making. she entertained us with the history of a contest between two rival claimants for the patronage of the stage-wagon, the proprietors of which had not decided whether to send it by buffalo grove or by another route, which she pointed out to us, at no great distance. the _driver_, she took care to inform us, was in favor of the former; and the blush with which she replied in the affirmative to our inquiry, "is he a young man?" explained the whole matter satisfactorily. at length, just at sunset, we reached the dark, rapid waters of the rock river. the ferry which we had travelled so far out of our way to take advantage of, proved to be merely a small boat or skiff, the larger one having been swept off into the stream, and carried down in the breaking-up of the ice, the week previous. my husband's first care was to get me across. he placed me with the saddles, packs, etc. in the boat, and as, at that late hour, no time was to be lost, he ventured, at the same time, to hold the bridles of the two most docile horses, to guide them in swimming the river. when we had proceeded a few rods from the shore, we were startled by a loud puffing and blowing near us, and looking around, to our great surprise, discovered little brunet just upon our "weather-bow." determined not to be outdone by his model, jerry, he had taken to the water on his own responsibility, and arrived at the opposite shore as soon as any of the party. all being safely landed, a short walk brought us to the house of mr. dixon. although so recently come into the country, he had contrived to make everything comfortable around him; and when he ushered us into mrs. dixon's sitting-room, and seated us by a glowing wood fire, while mrs. dixon busied herself in preparing us a nice supper, i felt that the comfort overbalanced the inconvenience of such a journey. mrs. dixon was surrounded by several children. one leaning against the chimney-piece was dressed in the full indian costume--calico shirt, blanket, and leggings. his dark complexion, and full, melancholy eyes, which he kept fixed upon the ashes in which he was making marks with a stick, rarely raising them to gaze on us, as children are wont to do, interested me exceedingly, and i inquired of an intelligent little girl, evidently a daughter of our host,-- "who is that boy?" "oh, that is john ogie," answered she. "what is the matter with him? he looks very sad." "oh, he is fretting after his mother." "is she dead, then?" "some say she is dead, and some say she is gone away. i guess she is dead, and buried up in one of those graves yonder"--pointing to two or three little picketed inclosures upon a rising ground opposite the window. i felt a strong sympathy with the child, which was increased when the little spokeswoman, in answer to my inquiry, "has he no father?" replied,-- "oh, yes, but he goes away, and drinks, and don't care for his children." "and what becomes of john then?" "he stays here with us, and we teach him to read, and he learns _dreadful_ fast." when the boy at length turned his large dark eyes upon me, it went to my heart. it was such a _motherless_ look. and it was explained when, long afterwards, i learned his further history. his mother was still living, and he knew it, although, with the reserve peculiar to his people, he never spoke of her to his young companions. unable to endure the continued ill treatment of her husband, a surly, intemperate canadian, she had left him, and returned to her own family among the pottowattamies. years after, this boy and a brother who had also been left behind with their father found their way to the upper missouri, to join their mother, who, with the others of her tribe, had been removed by the government from the shores of lake michigan. a most savory supper of ducks and venison, with their accompaniments, soon smoked upon the board, and we did ample justice to it. travelling is a great sharpener of the appetite, and so is cheerfulness; and the latter was increased by the encouraging account mr. dixon gave us of the remainder of the route yet before us. "there is no difficulty," said he, "if you keep a little to the north, and strike the great _sauk trail_. if you get too far to the south, you will come upon the winnebago swamp, and, once in that, there is no telling when you will ever get out again. as for the distance, it is nothing at all to speak of. two young men came out here from chicago, on foot, last fall. they got here the evening of the second day; and, even with a lady in your party, you could go on horseback in less time than that. the only thing is to be sure and get on the great track that the sauks have made, in going every year from the mississippi to canada, to receive their presents from the british indian agent." the following morning, which was a bright and lovely one for that season of the year, we took leave of mr. and mrs. dixon, in high spirits. we travelled for the first few miles along the beautiful, undulating banks of the rock river, always in an easterly direction, keeping the beaten path, or rather road, which led to fort clark, or peoria. the sauk trail, we had been told, would cross this road at the distance of about six miles. after having travelled, as we judged, fully that distance, we came upon a trail bearing northeast, and a consultation was held as to the probability of its being the one we were in search of. mr. kinzie was of opinion that it tended too much to the north, and was, moreover, too faint and obscure for a trail so much used, and by so large a body of indians in their annual journeys. plante was positive as to its being the very spot where he and "piché" in their journey to port winnebago, the year before, struck into the great road. "on that very rising-ground at the point of woods, he remembered perfectly well stopping to shoot ducks, which they ate for their supper." mr. kellogg was non-committal, but sided alternately with each speaker. as plante was "the guide," and withal so confident of being right, it was decided to follow him, not without some demurring, however, on the part of the bourgeois, who every now and then called to halt, to discuss the state of affairs. "now, plante," he would say, "i am sure you are leading us too far north. why, man, if we keep on in this direction, following the course of the river, we shall bring up at kosh-ko-nong, instead of chicago." "ah! mon bourgeois," would the light-hearted canadian reply, "would i tell you this is the road if i were not quite certain? only one year ago i travelled it, and can i forget so soon? oh, no--i remember every foot of it." but monsieur plante was convinced of his mistake when the trail brought us to the great bend of the river with its bold rocky bluffs. "are you satisfied now, plante?" asked mr. kinzie. "by your leave, i will now play pilot myself." and he struck off from the trail, in a direction as nearly east as possible. the weather had changed and become intensely cold, and we felt that the detention we had met with, even should we now be in the right road, was no trifling matter. we had not added to our stock of provisions at dixon's, wishing to carry as much forage as we were able for our horses, for whom the scanty picking around our encamping-grounds afforded an insufficient meal. but we were buoyed up by the hope that we were in the right path at last, and we journeyed on until night, when we reached a comfortable "encampment," in the edge of a grove near a small stream. oh, how bitterly cold that night was! the salted provisions, to which i was accustomed, occasioned me an intolerable thirst, and my husband was in the habit of placing the little tin coffee-pot filled with water at my bed's head when we went to rest, but this night it was frozen solid long before midnight. we were so well wrapped up in blankets that we did not suffer from cold while within the tent, but the open air was severe in the extreme. march th.--we were roused by the bourgeois at peep of day to make preparations for starting. we must find the sauk trail this day at all hazards. what would become of us should we fail to do so? it was a question no one liked to ask, and certainly one that none could have answered. on leaving our encampment, we found ourselves entering a marshy tract of country. myriads of wild geese, brant, and ducks rose up screaming at our approach. the more distant lakes and ponds were black with them, but the shallow water through which we attempted to make our way was frozen, by the severity of the night, to a thickness not quite sufficient to bear the horses, but just such as to cut their feet and ankles at every step as they broke through it. sometimes the difficulty of going forward was so great that we were obliged to retrace our steps and make our way round the head of the marsh, thus adding to the discomforts of our situation by the conviction that, while journeying diligently, we were, in fact, making very little progress. this swampy region at length passed, we came upon more solid ground, chiefly the open prairie. but now a new trouble assailed us. the weather had moderated, and a blinding snow-storm came on. without a trail that we could rely upon, and destitute of a compass, our only dependence had been the sun to point out our direction; but the atmosphere was now so obscure that it was impossible to tell in what quarter of the heavens he was. we pursued our way, however, and a devious one it must have been. after travelling in this way many miles, we came upon an indian trail, deeply indented, running at right angles with the course we were pursuing. the snow had ceased, and, the clouds becoming thinner, we were able to observe the direction of the sun, and to perceive that the trail ran north and south. what should we do? was it safest to pursue our easterly course, or was it probable that by following this new path we should fall into the direct one we had been so long seeking? if we decided to take the trail, should we go north or south? mr. kinzie was for the latter. he was of opinion we were still too far north--somewhere about the grand marais, or kish-wau-kee. mr. kellogg and plante were for taking the northerly direction. the latter was positive his bourgeois had already gone too far south--in fact, that we must now be in the neighborhood of the illinois river. finding himself in the minority, my husband yielded, and we turned our horses' heads north, much against his will. after proceeding a few miles, however, he took a sudden determination. "you may go north, if you please," said he, "but i am convinced that the other course is right, and i shall face about--follow who will." so we wheeled round and rode south again, and many a long and weary mile did we travel, the monotony of our ride broken only by the querulous remarks of poor mr. kellogg. "i am really afraid we are wrong, mr. kinzie. i feel pretty sure that the young man is right. it looks most natural to me that we should take a northerly course, and not be stretching away so far to the south." to all this, mr. kinzie turned a deaf ear. the frenchmen rode in silence. they would as soon have thought of cutting off their right hand as showing opposition to the bourgeois when he had once expressed his decision. they would never have dreamed of offering an opinion or remark unless called upon to do so. the road, which had continued many miles through the prairie, at length, in winding round a point of woods, brought us suddenly upon an indian village. a shout of joy broke from the whole party, but no answering shout was returned--not even a bark of friendly welcome--as we galloped up to the wigwams. all was silent as the grave. we rode round and round, then dismounted and looked into several of the spacious huts. they had evidently been long deserted. nothing remained but the bare walls of bark, from which everything in the shape of furniture had been stripped by the owners and carried with them to their wintering-grounds, to be brought back in the spring, when they returned to make their corn-fields and occupy their summer cabins. our disappointment may be better imagined than described. with heavy hearts, we mounted and once more pursued our way, the snow again falling and adding to the discomforts of our position. at length we halted for the night. we had long been aware that our stock of provisions was insufficient for another day, and here we were--nobody knew where--in the midst of woods and prairies--certainly far from any human habitation, with barely enough food for a slender evening's meal. the poor dogs came whining round us to beg their usual portion, but they were obliged to content themselves with a bare bone, and we retired to rest with the feeling that if not actually hungry then, we should certainly be so to-morrow. the morrow came. plante and roy had a bright fire and a nice pot of coffee for us. it was our only breakfast, for, on shaking the bag and turning it inside out, we could make no more of our stock of bread than three crackers, which the rest of the party insisted i should put in my pocket for my dinner. i was much touched by the kindness of mr. kellogg, who drew from his wallet a piece of tongue and a slice of fruit-cake, which he said "he had been saving for _the lady_ since the day before, for he saw how matters were a going." poor man! it would have been well if he had listened to mr. kinzie and provided himself at the outset with a larger store of provisions. as it was, those he brought with him were exhausted early in the second day, and he had been _boarding_ with us for the last two meals. we still had the trail to guide us, and we continued to follow it until about nine o'clock, when, in emerging from a wood, we came upon a broad and rapid river. a collection of indian wigwams stood upon the opposite bank, and, as the trail led directly to the water, it was fair to infer that the stream was fordable. we had no opportunity of testing it, however, for the banks were so lined with ice, which was piled up tier upon tier by the breaking-up of the previous week, that we tried in vain to find a path by which we could descend the bank to the water. the men shouted again and again, in hopes some straggling inhabitant of the village might be at hand with his canoe. no answer was returned, save by the echoes. what was to be done? i looked at my husband and saw that care was on his brow, although he still continued to speak cheerfully. "we will follow this cross-trail down the bank of the river," said he. "there must be indians wintering near, in some of these points of wood." i must confess that i felt somewhat dismayed at our prospects, but i kept up a show of courage, and did not allow my despondency to be seen. all the party were dull and gloomy enough. we kept along the bank, which was considerably elevated above the water, and bordered at a little distance with a thick wood. all at once my horse, who was mortally afraid of indians, began to jump and prance, snorting and pricking up his ears as if an enemy were at hand. i screamed with delight to my husband, who was at the head of the file, "oh, john! john! there are indians near--look at jerry!" at this instant a little indian dog ran out from under the bushes by the roadside, and began barking at us. never were sounds more welcome. we rode directly into the thicket, and, descending into a little hollow, found two squaws crouching behind the bushes, trying to conceal themselves from our sight. they appeared greatly relieved when mr. kinzie addressed them in the pottowattamie language,-- "what are you doing here?" "digging indian potatoes"--(a species of artichoke.) "where is your lodge?" "on the other side of the river." "good--then you have a canoe here. can you take us across?" "yes--the canoe is very small." they conducted us down the bank to the water's edge where the canoe was. it was indeed _very small_. my husband explained to them that they must take me across first, and then return for the others of the party. "will you trust yourself alone over the river?" inquired he. "you see that but one can cross at a time." "oh, yes"--and i was soon placed in the bottom of the canoe, lying flat and looking up at the sky, while the older squaw took the paddle in her hand, and placed herself on her knees at my head, and the younger, a girl of fourteen or fifteen, stationed herself at my feet. there was just room enough for me to lie in this position, each of the others kneeling in the opposite ends of the canoe. while these preparations were making, mr. kinzie questioned the women as to our whereabout. they knew no name for the river but "saumanong." this was not definite, it being the generic term for any large stream. but he gathered that the village we had passed higher up, on the opposite side of the stream, was wau-ban-see's, and then he knew that we were on the fox river, and probably about fifty miles from chicago. the squaw, in answer to his inquiries, assured him that chicago was "close by." "that means," said he, "that it is not so far off as canada. we must not be too sanguine." the men set about unpacking the horses, and i in the mean time was paddled across the river. the old woman immediately returned, leaving the younger one with me for company. i seated myself on the fallen trunk of a tree, in the midst of the snow, and looked across the dark waters. i am not ashamed to confess my weakness--for the first time on my journey i shed tears. it was neither hunger, nor fear, nor cold, which extorted them from me. it was the utter desolation of spirit, the sickness of heart which "hope deferred" ever occasions, and which of all evils is the hardest to bear. the poor little squaw looked into my face with a wondering and sympathizing expression. probably she was speculating in her own mind what a person who rode so fine a horse, and wore so comfortable a broadcloth dress, could have to cry about. i pointed to a seat beside me on the log, but she preferred standing and gazing at me, with the same pitying expression. presently she was joined by a young companion, and, after a short chattering, of which i was evidently the subject, they both trotted off into the woods, and left me to my own solitary reflections. "what would my friends at the east think," said i to myself, "if they could see me now? what would poor old mrs. welsh say? she who warned me that _if i came away so far to the west, i should break my heart?_ would she not rejoice to find how likely her prediction was to be fulfilled?" these thoughts roused me. i dried up my tears, and by the time my husband with his party and all his horses and luggage were across, i had recovered my cheerfulness, and was ready for fresh adventures. chapter xvi. relief. we followed the old squaw to her lodge, which was at no great distance in the woods. i had never before been in an indian lodge, although i had occasionally peeped into one of the many always clustered round the house of the interpreter at the portage. this one was very nicely arranged. four sticks of wood placed to form a square in the centre, answered the purpose of a hearth, within which the fire was built, the smoke escaping through an opening in the top. the mats of which the lodge was constructed were very neat and new, and against the sides, depending from the poles or frame-work, hung various bags of indian manufacture, containing their dried food and other household treasures. sundry ladles, small kettles, and wooden bowls also hung from the cross-poles; and dangling from the centre, by an iron chain, was a large kettle in which some dark, suspicious-looking substance was seething over the scanty fire. on the floor of the lodge, between the fire and the outer wall, were spread mats, upon which my husband invited me to be seated and make myself comfortable. the first demand of an indian on meeting a white man is for _bread_, of which they are exceedingly fond, and i knew enough of the pottowattamie language to comprehend the timid "_pe-qua-zhe-gun choh-kay-go_" (i have no bread) with which the squaw commenced our conversation after my husband had left the lodge. i shook my head, and endeavored to convey to her that, so far from being able to give, i had had no breakfast myself. she understood me, and instantly produced a bowl, into which she ladled a quantity of indian potatoes from the kettle over the fire, and set them before me. i was too hungry to be fastidious, and, owing partly, no doubt, to the sharpness of my appetite, i really found them delicious. two little girls, inmates of the lodge, sat gazing at me with evident admiration and astonishment, which were increased when i took my little prayer book from my pocket and began to read. they had, undoubtedly, never seen a book before, and i was amused at the care with which they looked _away_ from me, while they questioned their mother about my strange employment and listened to her replies. while thus occupied, i was startled by a sudden sound of "hogh!" and the mat which hung over the entrance of the lodge was raised, and an indian entered with that graceful bound which is peculiar to themselves. it was the master of the lodge, who had been out to shoot ducks, and was just returned. he was a tall, finely-formed man, with a cheerful, open countenance, and he listened to what his wife in a quiet tone related to him, while he divested himself of his accoutrements, in the most unembarrassed, well-bred manner imaginable. soon my husband joined us. he had been engaged in attending to the comfort of his horses, and assisting his men in making their fire, and pitching their tent, which the rising storm made a matter of some difficulty. from the indian he learned that we were in what was called the big woods,[ ] or "piché's grove," from a frenchman of that name living not far from the spot--that the river we had crossed was the fox river--that he could guide us to _piché's_, from which the road was perfectly plain, or even into chicago if we preferred--but that we had better remain encamped for that day, as there was a storm coming on, and in the mean time he would go and shoot some ducks for our dinner and supper. he was accordingly furnished with powder and shot, and set off again for game without delay. i had put into my pocket, on leaving home, a roll of scarlet ribbon, in case a stout string should be wanted, and i now drew it forth, and with the knife which hung around my neck i cut off a couple of yards for each of the little girls. they received it with great delight, and their mother, dividing each portion into two, tied a piece to each of the little clubs into which their hair was knotted on the temples. they laughed, and exclaimed "saum!" as they gazed at each other, and their mother joined in their mirth, although, as i thought, a little unwilling to display her maternal exultation before a stranger. the tent being all in order, my husband came for me, and we took leave of our friends in the wigwam, with grateful hearts. the storm was raging without. the trees were bending and cracking around us, and the air was completely filled with the wild-fowl screaming and _quacking_ as they made their way southward before the blast. our tent was among the trees not far from the river. my husband took me to the bank to look for a moment at what we had escaped. the wind was sweeping down from the north in a perfect hurricane. the water was filled with masses of snow and ice, dancing along upon the torrent, over which were hurrying thousands of wild-fowl, making the woods resound to their deafening clamor. had we been one hour later, we could not possibly have crossed the stream, and there would have been nothing for us but to have remained and starved in the wilderness. could we be sufficiently grateful to that kind providence that had brought us safely through such dangers? the men had cut down an immense tree, and built a fire against it, but the wind shifted so continually that every five minutes the tent would become completely filled with smoke, so that i was driven into the open air for breath. then i would seat myself on one end of the huge log, as near the fire as possible, for it was dismally cold, but the wind seemed actuated by a kind of caprice, for in whatever direction i took my seat, just that way came the smoke and hot ashes, puffing in my face until i was nearly blinded. neither veil nor silk handkerchief afforded an effectual protection, and i was glad when the arrival of our huntsmen, with a quantity of ducks, gave me an opportunity of diverting my thoughts from my own sufferings, by aiding the men to pick them and get them ready for our meal. we borrowed a kettle from our indian friends. it was not remarkably clean; but we heated a little water in it, and _prairie-hay'd_ it out, before consigning our birds to it, and with a bowl of indian potatoes, a present from our kind neighbors, we soon had an excellent soup. what with the cold, the smoke, and the driving ashes and cinders, this was the most uncomfortable afternoon i had yet passed, and i was glad when night came, and i could creep into the tent and cover myself up in the blankets, out of the way of all three of these evils. the storm raged with tenfold violence during the night. we were continually startled by the crashing of the falling trees around us, and who could tell but that the next would be upon us? spite of our fatigue, we passed an almost sleepless night. when we arose in the morning, we were made fully alive to the perils by which we had been surrounded. at least fifty trees, the giants of the forest, lay prostrate within view of the tent. when we had taken our scanty breakfast, and were mounted and ready for departure, it was with difficulty we could thread our way, so completely was it obstructed by the fallen trunks. our indian guide had joined us at an early hour, and after conducting us carefully out of the wood, and pointing out to us numerous bee-trees,[ ] for which he said that grove was famous, he set off at a long trot, and about nine o'clock brought us to _piché's_, a log cabin on a rising ground, looking off over the broad prairie to the east. we had hoped to get some refreshment here, piché being an old acquaintance of some of the party; but, alas! the master was from home. we found his cabin occupied by indians and travellers--the latter few, the former numerous. there was no temptation to a halt, except that of warming ourselves at a bright fire that was burning in the clay chimney. a man in quaker costume stepped forward to answer our inquiries, and offered to become our escort to chicago, to which place he was bound--so we dismissed our indian friend, with a satisfactory remuneration for all the trouble he had so kindly taken for us. a long reach of prairie extended from piché's to the du page, between the two forks of which, mr. dogherty, our new acquaintance, told us, we should find the dwelling of a mr. hawley, who would give us a comfortable dinner. the weather was intensely cold; the wind, sweeping over the wide prairie with nothing to break its force, chilled our very hearts. i beat my feet against the saddle to restore the circulation, when they became benumbed with the cold, until they were so bruised i could beat them no longer. not a house or wigwam, not even a clump of trees as a shelter, offered itself for many a weary mile. at length we reached the west fork of the du page. it was frozen, but not sufficiently so to bear the horses. our only resource was to cut a way for them through the ice. it was a work of time, for the ice had frozen to several inches in thickness during the last bitter night. plante went first with an axe, and cut as far as he could reach, then mounted one of the hardy little ponies, and with some difficulty broke the ice before him, until he had opened a passage to the opposite shore. how the poor animals shivered as they were reined in among the floating ice! and we, who sat waiting in the piercing wind, were not much better off. probably brunet was of the same opinion; for, with his usual perversity, he plunged in immediately after plante, and stood shaking and quaking behind him, every now and then looking around him, as much as to say, "i've got ahead of you, this time!" we were all across at last, and spurred on our horses, until we reached hawley's[ ]--a large, commodious dwelling, near the east fork of the river. the good woman welcomed us kindly, and soon made us warm and comfortable. we felt as if we were in a civilized land once more. she proceeded immediately to prepare dinner for us; and we watched her with eager eyes, as she took down a huge ham from the rafters, out of which she cut innumerable slices, then broke a dozen or more of fine fresh eggs into a pan, in readiness for frying--then mixed a _johnny-cake_, and placed it against a board in front of the fire to bake. it seemed to me that even with the aid of this fine, bright fire, the dinner took an unconscionable time to cook; but cooked it was, at last, and truly might the good woman stare at the travellers' appetites we had brought with us. she did not know what short commons we had been on for the last two days. we found, upon inquiry, that we could, by pushing on, reach lawton's, on the aux plaines, that night--we should then be within twelve miles of chicago. of course we made no unnecessary delay, but set off as soon after dinner as possible. the crossing of the east fork of the du page was more perilous than the former one had been. the ice had become broken, either by the force of the current, or by some equestrians having preceded us and cut through it, so that when we reached the bank, the ice was floating down in large cakes. the horses had to make a rapid dart through the water, which was so high, and rushing in such a torrent, that if i had not been mounted on jerry, the tallest horse in the cavalcade, i must have got a terrible splashing. as it was, i was well frightened, and grasped both bridle and mane with the utmost tenacity. after this we travelled on as rapidly as possible, in order to reach our place of destination before dark. mr. dogherty, a tall, bolt-upright man, half quaker, half methodist, did his best to entertain me, by giving me a thorough schedule of his religious opinions, with the reasons from scripture upon which they were based. he was a good deal of a perfectionist, and evidently looked upon himself with no small satisfaction, as a living illustration of his favorite doctrine. "st. john says," this was the style of his discourse, "st. john says, 'he that is born of god, doth not commit sin' now, _if_ i am born of god, i do not commit sin." i was too cold and too weary to argue the point, so i let him have it all his own way. i believe he must have thought me rather a dull companion; but at least he gave me the credit of being a good listener. it was almost dark when we reached lawton's. the aux plaines[ ] was frozen, and the house was on the other side. by loud shouting, we brought out a man from the building, and he succeeded in cutting the ice, and bringing a canoe over to us; but not until it had become difficult to distinguish objects in the darkness. a very comfortable house was lawton's, after we did reach it--carpeted, and with a warm stove--in fact, quite in civilized style, mr. weeks, the man who brought us across, was the major-domo, during the temporary absence of mr. lawton. mrs. lawton was a young woman, and not ill-looking. she complained bitterly of the loneliness of her condition, and having been "brought out there into the woods; which was a thing she had not expected, when she came from the east." we did not ask her with what expectations she had come to a wild, unsettled country; but we tried to comfort her with the assurance that things would grow better in a few years. she said, "she did not mean to wait for that. she should go back to her family in the east, if mr. lawton did not invite some of her young friends to come and stay with her, and make it agreeable." we could hardly realize, on rising the following morning, that only twelve miles of prairie intervened between us and _chicago le désiré_, as i could not but name it. we could look across the extended plain, and on its farthest verge were visible two tall trees, which my husband pointed out to me as the planting of his own hand, when a boy. already they had become so lofty as to serve as landmarks, and they were constantly in view as we travelled the beaten road. i was continually repeating to myself, "there live the friends i am so longing to see! there will terminate all our trials and hardships!" a mr. wentworth joined us on the road, and of him we inquired after the welfare of the family, from whom we had, for a long time, received no intelligence. when we reached chicago, he took us to a little tavern at the forks of the river. this portion of the place was then called _wolf point_, from its having been the residence of an indian named "_moaway_," or "the wolf." "dear me," said the old landlady, at the little tavern, "what dreadful cold weather you must have had to travel in! why, two days ago the river was all open here, and now it's frozen hard enough for folks to cross a-horseback!" notwithstanding this assurance, my husband did not like to venture, so he determined to leave his horses and proceed on foot to the residence of his mother and sister, a distance of about half a mile. we set out on our walk, which was first across the ice, then down the northern bank of the river. as we approached the house we were espied by genevieve, a half-breed servant of the family. she did not wait to salute us, but flew into the house, crying,-- "oh! madame kinzie, who do you think has come? monsieur john and madame john, all the way from fort winnebago on foot!" soon we were in the arms of our dear, kind friends. a messenger was dispatched to "the garrison" for the remaining members of the family, and for that day, at least, i was the wonder and admiration of the whole circle, "for the dangers i had seen." chapter xvii. chicago in . fort dearborn at that day consisted of the same buildings as at present.[ ] they were, of course, in a better state of preservation, though still considerably dilapidated. they had been erected in , under the supervision of captain hezekiah bradley, and there was a story current that, such was his patriotic regard for the interests of the government, he obliged the soldiers to fashion wooden pins, instead of spikes and nails, to fasten the timbers of the buildings, and that he even called on the junior officers to aid in their construction along with the soldiers, whose business it was. if this were true, the captain must have labored under the delusion (excusable in one who had lived long on the frontier) that government would thank its servants for any excess of economical zeal. the fort was inclosed by high pickets, with bastions at the alternate angles. large gates opened to the north and south, and there were small posterns here and there for the accommodation of the inmates. the bank of the river which stretches to the west, now covered by the light-house buildings, and inclosed by docks, was then occupied by the root-houses of the garrison. beyond the parade-ground, which extended south of the pickets, were the company gardens, well filled with currant-bushes and young fruit-trees. the fort stood at what might naturally be supposed to be the mouth of the river. it was not so, however, for in those days the latter took a turn, sweeping round the promontory on which the fort was built, towards the south, and joining the lake about half a mile below. these buildings stood on the right bank of the river, the left being a long spit of land extending from the northern shore, of which it formed a part. after the cutting through of this portion of the left bank in by the united states engineers employed to construct a harbor at this point, and the throwing out of the piers, the water overflowed this long tongue of land, and, continually encroaching on the southern bank, robbed it of many valuable acres; while, by the same action of the vast body of the lake, an accretion was constantly taking place on the north of the harbor. the residence of jean baptiste beaubien stood at this period between the gardens and the river-bank, and still farther south was a rickety tenement, built many years before by mr. john dean, the sutler of the post. a short time after the commencement of the growth of chicago, the foundations of this building were undermined by the gradual encroachment of the lake, and it tumbled backward down the bank, where it long lay, a melancholy spectacle. on the northern bank of the river, directly facing the fort, was the family mansion of my husband.[ ] it was a long, low building, with a piazza extending along its front, a range of four or five rooms. a broad green space was inclosed between it and the river, and shaded by a row of lombardy poplars. two immense cottonwood-trees stood in the rear of the building, one of which still remains as an ancient landmark. a fine, well-cultivated garden extended to the north of the dwelling, and surrounding it were various buildings appertaining to the establishment--dairy, bake-house, lodging-house for the frenchmen, and stables. a vast range of sand-hills, covered with stunted cedars, pines, and dwarf-willow-trees, intervened between the house and the lake, which was, at this time, not more than thirty rods distant. proceeding from this point along the northern bank of the river, we came first to the agency house, "cobweb castle," as it had been denominated while long the residence of a bachelor, and the _sobriquet_ adhered to it ever after. it stood at what is now the southwest corner of wolcott[ ] and n. water streets. many will still remember it, a substantial, compact little building of logs hewed and squared, with a centre, two wings, and, strictly speaking, two _tails_, since, when there was found no more room for additions at the sides, they were placed in the rear, whereon a vacant spot could be found. these appendages did not mar the symmetry of the whole, as viewed from the front, but when, in the process of the town's improvement, a street was maliciously opened directly in the rear of the building, the whole establishment, with its comical little adjuncts, was a constant source of amusement to the passers-by. no matter. there were pleasant, happy hours passed under its odd-shaped roof, as many of chicago's early settlers can testify. around the agency house were grouped a collection of log buildings, the residences of the different persons in the employ of government, appertaining to that establishment--blacksmith, striker, and laborers. these were for the most part canadians or half-breeds, with occasionally a stray yankee, to set all things going by his activity and enterprise. there was still another house on the north side of the river, built by a former resident by the name of miller, but he had removed to "rivière du chemin," or trail creek, which about this time began to be called "michigan city."[ ] this house, which stood near the forks of the river, was at this time vacant. there was no house on the southern bank of the river, between the fort and "the point," as the forks of the river were then called. the land was a low wet prairie, scarcely affording good walking in the dryest summer weather, while at other seasons it was absolutely impassable. a muddy streamlet, or, as it is called in this country, a _slew_,[ ] after winding around from about the present site of the tremont house, fell into the river at the foot of state street.[ ] at the point, on the south side, stood a house just completed by mark beaubien. it was a pretentious white two-story building, with bright-blue wooden shutters, the admiration of all the little circle at wolf point. here a canoe ferry was kept to transport people across the south branch of the river. facing down the river from the west was, first a small tavern kept by mr. wentworth, familiarly known as "old geese," not from any want of shrewdness on his part, but in compliment to one of his own cant expressions. near him were two or three log cabins occupied by robinson, the pottowattamie chief, and some of his wife's connexions. billy caldwell, the sau-ga-nash, too, resided here occasionally, with his wife, who was a daughter of nee-scot-nee-meg, one of the most famous chiefs of the nation. a little remote from these residences was a small square log building, originally designed for a school-house, but occasionally used as a place of worship whenever any itinerant minister presented himself. the family of clybourn had, previous to this time, established themselves near their present residence on the north branch--they called their place _new virginia_. four miles up the south branch was an old building which was at one time an object of great interest as having been the theatre of some stirring events during the troubles of .[ ] it was denominated lee's place, or hardscrabble. here lived, at this time, a settler named heacock. owing to the badness of the roads a greater part of the year, the usual mode of communication between the fort and the point was by a boat rowed up the river, or by a canoe paddled by some skilful hand. by the latter means, too, an intercourse was kept up between the residents of the fort and the agency house. there were, at this time, two companies of soldiers in the garrison, but of the officers one, lieutenant furman, had died the autumn previous, and several of the others were away on furlough. in the absence of major fowle and captain scott, the command devolved on lieutenant hunter. besides him, there were lieutenants engle and foster--the latter unmarried. dr. finley, the post surgeon, was also absent, and his place was supplied by dr. harmon, a gentleman from vermont. my husband's mother, two sisters, and brother resided at the agency house--the family residence near the lake being occupied by j.n. bailey, the postmaster. in the dean house lived a mr. and mrs. forbes, who kept a school. gholson kercheval had a small trading establishment in one of the log buildings at wolf point, and john s.c. hogan superintended the sutler's store in the garrison. there was also a mr. see lately come into the country, living at the point, who sometimes held forth in the little school-house on a sunday, less to the edification of his hearers than to the unmerciful slaughter of the "king's english." i think this enumeration comprises all the white inhabitants of chicago at a period less than half a century ago. to many who may read these pages the foregoing particulars will, doubtless, appear uninteresting. but to those who visit chicago, and still more to those who come to make it their home, it may be not without interest to look back to its first beginnings; to contemplate the almost magical change which a few years have wrought; and from the past to augur the marvellous prosperity of the future. the origin of the name chicago is a subject of discussion, some of the indians deriving it from the fitch or polecat, others from the wild onion with which the woods formerly abounded; but all agree that the place received its name from an old chief who was drowned in the stream in former times. that this event, although so carefully preserved by tradition, must have occurred in a very remote period, is evident from an old french manuscript brought by general cass from france. in this paper, which purports to be a letter from m. de ligney, at green bay, to m. de siette, among the illinois, dated as early as , the place is designated as "chica-goux." this orthography is also found in old family letters of the beginning of the present century. * * * * * in giving the early history of chicago, the indians say, with great simplicity, "the first white man who settled here was a negro." this was jean baptiste point-au-sable, a native of st. domingo, who, about the year , found his way to this remote region, and commenced a life among the indians. there is usually a strong affection between these two races, and jean baptiste imposed upon his new friends by making them believe that he had been a "great chief" among the whites. perhaps he was disgusted at not being elected to a similar dignity by the pottowattamies, for he quitted this vicinity, and finally terminated his days at peoria, under the roof of his friend glamorgan, another st. domingo negro, who had obtained large spanish grants in st. louis and its environs, and who, at one time, was in the enjoyment of an extensive landed estate. point-au-sable had made some improvements at chicago, which were taken possession of by a frenchman named le mai, who commenced trading with the indians. after a few years le mai's establishment was purchased by john kinzie, esq., who at that time resided at bertrand, or _parc aux vaches_, as it was then called, near niles, in michigan. as this gentleman was for nearly twenty years, with the exception of the military, the only white inhabitant of northern illinois, some particulars of his early life may not be uninteresting. he was born in quebec in . his mother had been previously married to a gentleman of the name of haliburton. the only daughter of this marriage was the mother of general fleming, nicholas low, esq., and mrs. charles king, of new york. she is described as a lady of remarkable beauty and accomplishments. mr. kinzie was the only child of the second marriage. his father died in his infancy, and his mother married a third time a mr. forsyth, after which they removed to the city of new york. at the age of ten or eleven years he was placed at school with two of his half-brothers at williamsburg, l.i. a negro servant was sent from the city every saturday, to bring the children home, to remain until the following monday morning. upon one occasion, when the messenger arrived at the school he found all things in commotion. johnny kinzie was missing! search was made in all directions; every place was ransacked. it was all in vain; no johnny kinzie could be found. the heavy tidings were carried home to his mother. by some it was supposed the lad was drowned; by others that he had strayed away, and would return. weeks passed by, and months, and he was at length given up and mourned as lost. in the mean time the boy was fulfilling a determination he had long formed, to visit his native city of quebec, and make his way in life for himself. he had by some means succeeded in crossing from williamsburg to the city of new york, and finding at one of the docks on the north river a sloop bound for albany, he took passage on board of her. while on his way up the river, he was noticed by a gentleman, who, taking an interest in the little lonely passenger, questioned him about his business. "he was going to quebec, where he had some friends." "had he the means to carry him there?" "not much, but he thought he could get along." it happened, fortunately, that the gentleman himself was going to quebec. he took the boy under his care, paid his expenses the whole distance, and finally parted with him in the streets of the city, where he was, in truth, a stranger. he wandered about for a time, looking into various "stores" and workshops. at length, on entering the shop of a silversmith, he was satisfied with the expression he read in the countenance of the master, and he inquired if he wanted an apprentice. "what, you, my little fellow! what can you do?" "anything you can teach me." "well, we will make a trial and see." the trial was satisfactory. he remained in the family of his kind friend for more than three years, when his parents, who, in removing to detroit, had necessarily returned to canada, discovered his place of abode, and he was restored to them. there were five younger half-brothers, of the name of forsyth. in the old family bible, we find the following touching record of an event that occurred after the family had removed to detroit:-- "george forsyth was lost in the woods th august, , when henry hays and mark stirling ran away and left him. the remains of george forsyth were found by an indian the d of october, , close by the prairie ronde." it seems a singular fatality that the unhappy mother should have been twice called to suffer a similar affliction--the loss of a child in a manner worse than death, inasmuch as it left room for all the horrors that imagination can suggest. the particulars of the loss of this little brother were these. as he came from school one evening, he met the colored servant-boy on horseback, going to the common for the cows. the school-house stood quite near the old fort, and all beyond that, towards the west, was a wild, uncultivated tract called "the common." the child begged of the servant to take him up and give him a ride, but the other refused, bidding him return home at once. he was accompanied by two other boys, somewhat older, and together they followed the negro for some distance, hoping to prevail upon him to give them a ride. as it grew dark, the two older boys turned back, but the other kept on. when the negro returned he had not again seen the child, nor were any tidings ever received of him, notwithstanding the diligent search made by the whole little community, until, as related in the record, his remains were found the following year by an indian. there was nothing to identify them, except the auburn curls of his hair, and the little boots he had worn. he must have perished very shortly after having lost his way, for the prairie ronde was too near the settlement to have prevented his bearing the calls and sounding horns of those in search of him, had he been living. mr. kinzie's enterprising and adventurous disposition led him, as he grew older, to live much on the frontier. he early entered into the indian trade, and had establishments at sandusky and maumee. about the year he pushed farther west, to st. joseph's, michigan. in this year he married mrs. mckillip, the widow of a british officer, and in came to make his home at chicago. it was in this year that the first fort was built by major john whistler. by degrees more remote trading-posts were established by him, all contributing to the parent one at chicago; at milwaukie with the menomonees; at rock river with the winnebagoes and the pottowattamies; on the illinois river and kankakee with the pottowattamies of the prairies, and with the kickapoos in what was called "_le large_," being the widely extended district afterwards erected into sangamon county. each trading-post had its superintendent, and its complement of engagés--its train of pack-horses and its equipment of boats and canoes. from most of the stations the furs and peltries were brought to chicago on pack-horses, and the goods necessary for the trade were transported in return by the same method. the vessels which came in the spring and fall (seldom more than two or three annually), to bring the supplies and goods for the trade, took the furs that were already collected to mackinac, the depôt of the southwest and american fur companies. at other seasons they were sent to that place in boats, coasting around the lake. * * * * * of the canadian voyageurs or engagés, a race that has now so nearly passed away, some notice may very properly here be given. they were unlike any other class of men. like the poet, they seemed born to their vocation. sturdy, enduring, ingenious, and light-hearted, they possessed a spirit capable of adapting itself to any emergency. no difficulties baffled, no hardships discouraged them; while their affectionate nature led them to form attachments of the warmest character to their "bourgeois," or master, as well as to the native inhabitants, among whom their engagements carried them. montreal, or, according to their own pronunciation, _marrialle_, was their depôt. it was at that place that the agents commissioned to make up the quota for the different companies and traders found the material for their selections. the terms of engagement were usually from four to six hundred livres (ancient quebec currency) per annum as wages, with rations of one quart of lyed corn, and two ounces of tallow per diem, or "its equivalent in whatever sort of food is to be found in the indian country." instances have been known of their submitting cheerfully to fare upon fresh fish and maple-sugar for a whole winter, when cut off from other supplies. it was a common saying, "keep an engagé to his corn and tallow, he will serve you well--give him pork and bread, and he soon gets beyond your management." they regard the terms of their engagement as binding to the letter. an old trader, m. berthelet, engaged a crew at montreal. the terms of agreement were, that they should eat when their bourgeois did, and what he did. it was a piece of fun on the part of the old gentleman, but the simple canadians believed it to be a signal instance of good luck that had provided them such luxurious prospects. the bourgeois stuffed his pockets with crackers, and, when sure of being quite unobserved, would slily eat one. pipe after pipe passed--the men grew hungry, but, observing that there were no preparations of a meal for the bourgeois, they bore their fast without complaining. at length the matter became too serious--they could stand it no longer. in their distress they begged off from the bargain, and gladly compounded to take the customary rations, instead of the dainty fare they had been promising themselves with their master. on arriving at mackinac, which was the entrepôt of the fur trade, a small proportion of the voyageur's wages was advanced him, to furnish his winter's outfit, his pipes and tobacco, his needles and thread, some pieces of bright-colored ribbons, and red and yellow gartering (quality binding), with which to purchase their little necessaries from the indians. to these, if his destination were lake superior, or a post far to the north where such articles could not be readily obtained, were added one or two smoked deer-skins for moccasins. thus equipped, he entered upon his three years' service, to toil by day, and laugh, joke, sing, and tell stories when the evening hour brought rest and liberty. there was not wanting here and there an instance of obstinate adherence to the exact letter of the agreement in regard to the nature of employment, although, as a general thing, the engagé held himself ready to fulfil the behests of his bourgeois, as faithfully as ever did vassal those of his chief. a story is told of m. st. jean, a trader on the upper mississippi, who upon a certain occasion ordered one of his frenchmen to accompany a party to the forest to chop wood. the man refused. "he was not hired," he said, "to chop wood." "ah! for what, then, were you hired?" "to steer a boat." "very well; steer a boat, then, since you prefer it." it was mid-winter. the recusant was marched to the river-side, and placed in the stern of the boat, which lay fastened in the ice. after serving a couple of hours at his legitimate employment, with the thermometer below zero, he was quite content to take his place with the chopping-party, and never again thought it good policy to choose work for himself. there is an aristocracy in the voyageur service which is quite amusing. the engagement is usually made for three years. the engagé of the first year, who is called a "_mangeur-de-lard_," or pork-eater, is looked down upon with the most sovereign contempt by an "_hivernant_," or one who has already passed a winter in the country. he will not only not associate with him, but if invited by him to join him in a friendly glass, he will make some excuse for declining. the most inveterate drunkard, while tortured by a longing to partake his favorite indulgence, will yet never suffer himself to be enticed into an infringement of this custom. after the first winter, the _mangeur-de-lard_ rises from his freshman class, and takes his place where he can in turn lord it over all new-comers. another peculiarity of the voyageurs is their fancy for transforming the names of their bourgeois into something funny, which resembles it in sound. thus, kinzie would be called by one "_quinze nez_" (fifteen noses), by another "_singé_" (monkeyfied). mr. kercheval was denominated _mons. court-cheval_ (short horse), the judge of probate, "_le juge trop-bête"_ (too foolish), etc. the following is an instance in point. mr. shaw, one of the agents of the northwest fur company, had passed many years on the frontier, and was by the voyageurs called monsieur le chat.[ ] on quitting the indian country he married a canadian lady and became the father of several children. some years after his return to canada, his old foreman, named louis la liberté, went to montreal to spend the winter. he had heard of his old bourgeois' marriage, and was anxious to see him. mr. shaw was walking in the champ de mars with a couple of officers, when la liberté espied him. he immediately ran up, and, seizing him by both hands, accosted him,-- "_ah! mon cher monsieur le chat: comment vous portez-vous_?" (my dear mr. cat, how do you do?) "_très-bien, louizon_." "_et comment se porte madame la chatte_?" (how is the mother cat?) "_bien, bien, louizon; elle est très-bien_" (she is very well.) "_et tous les petits chatons_?" (and all the kittens?) this was too much for mr. shaw. he answered shortly that the _kittens were all well_, and turned away with his military friends, leaving poor louizon quite astonished at the abruptness of his departure. cut off, in the manner described, from the world at large, with no society but the military, thus lived the family of mr. kinzie, in great contentment, and in the enjoyment of all the comforts, together with most of the luxuries, of life. the indians reciprocated the friendship that was shown them, and formed for them an attachment of no ordinary strength, as was manifested during the scenes of the year , eight years after mr. kinzie first came to live among them. some of the most prominent events of that year are recorded in the following narrative. chapter xviii. massacre at chicago.[ ] it was the evening of the th of april, . the children of mr. kinzie were dancing before the fire to the music of their father's violin. the tea-table was spread, and they were awaiting the return of their mother, who had gone to visit a sick neighbor about a quarter of a mile up the river. suddenly their sports were interrupted. the door was thrown open, and mrs. kinzie rushed in, pale with terror, and scarcely able to articulate, "the indians! the indians!" "the indians? what? where?" eagerly demanded they all. "up at lee's place, killing and scalping!" with difficulty mrs. kinzie composed herself sufficiently to give the information, "that, while she was up at burns's, a man and a boy were seen running down with all speed on the opposite side of the river; that they had called across to give notice to barns's family to save themselves, for _the indians_ were at lee's place, from which they had just made their escape. having given this terrifying news, they had made all speed for the fort, which was on the same side of the river that they then were." all was now consternation and dismay. the family were hurried into two old _pirogues_, that lay moored near the house, and paddled with all possible haste across the river to take refuge in the fort. all that the man and boy who had made their escape were able to tell, was soon known; but, in order to render their story more intelligible, it is necessary to describe the scene of action. _lee's place_, since known by the name of hardscrabble, was a farm intersected by the chicago river, about four miles from its mouth. the farm-house stood on the western bank of the south branch of this river. on the north side of the main stream, but quite near its junction with lake michigan, stood (as has already been described) the dwelling-house and trading-establishment of mr. kinzie. the fort was situated on the southern bank, directly opposite this mansion--the river, and a few rods of sloping green turf on either side, being all that intervened between them. the fort was differently constructed from the one erected on the same site in . it had two block-houses on the southern side, and on the northern a sally-port, or subterranean passage from the parade-ground to the river. this was designed either to facilitate escape in case of an emergency, or as a means of supplying the garrison with water during a siege. the officers in the fort at this period were captain heald, the commanding officer, lieutenant helm, the son-in-law of mr. kinzie, and ensign ronan--the two last were very young men--and the surgeon, dr. van voorhees. the command numbered about seventy-five men; very few of whom were effective. a constant and friendly intercourse had been maintained between these troops and the indians. it is true that the principal men of the pottowattamie nation, like those of most other tribes, went yearly to fort malden, in canada, to receive a large amount of presents, with which the british government had, for many years, been in the habit of purchasing their alliance; and it was well known that many of the pottowattamies, as well as winnebagoes, had been engaged with the ottawas and shawnees at the battle of tippecanoe, the preceding autumn; yet, as the principal chiefs of all the bands in the neighborhood appeared to be on the most amicable terms with the americans, no interruption of their harmony was at any time anticipated. after the th of august, however, many circumstances were recollected that might have opened the eyes of the whites, had they not been lulled in a fatal security. one instance in particular may be mentioned. in the spring preceding the destruction of the fort, two indians of the calumet band came to the fort on a visit to the commanding officer. as they passed through the quarters, they saw mrs. heald and mrs. helm playing at battledoor. turning to the interpreter, one of them, nau-non-gee, remarked, "the white chiefs' wives are amusing themselves very much; it will not be long before they are hoeing in our corn-fields!" this was considered at the time an idle threat, or, at most, an ebullition of jealous feeling at the contrast between the situation of their own women and that of the "white chiefs' wives." some months after, how bitterly was it remembered! * * * * * the farm at lee's place was occupied by a mr. white and three persons employed by him in the care of the farm. in the afternoon of the day on which our narrative commences, a party of ten or twelve indians, dressed and painted, arrived at the house, and, according to the custom among savages, entered and seated themselves without ceremony. something in their appearance and manner excited the suspicions of one of the family, a frenchman, who remarked, "i do not like the appearance of these indians--they are none of our folks. i know by their dress and paint that they are not pottowattamies." another of the family, a discharged soldier, then said to the boy who was present, "if that is the case, we had better get away from them if we can. say nothing; but do as you see me do." as the afternoon was far advanced, the soldier walked leisurely towards the canoes, of which there were two tied near the bank. some of the indians inquired where he was going. he pointed to the cattle which were standing among the haystacks on the opposite bank, and made signs that they must go and fodder them, and then they should return and get their supper. he got into one canoe, and the boy into the other. the stream was narrow, and they were soon across. when they had gained the opposite side, they pulled some hay for the cattle--made a show of collecting them--and when they had gradually made a circuit, so that their movements were concealed by the haystacks, they took to the woods, which were close at hand, and made for the fort. they had run about a quarter of a mile, when they heard the discharge of two guns successively, which they supposed to have been levelled at the companions they had left behind. they stopped not nor stayed until they arrived opposite burns's,[ ] where, as before related, they called across to advertise the family of their danger, and then hastened on to the fort. it now occurred to those who had secured their own safety, that the family of burns was at this moment exposed to the most imminent peril. the question was, who would hazard his own life to bring them to a place of safety? a gallant young officer, ensign ronan, volunteered, with a party of five or six soldiers, to go to their rescue. they ascended the river in a scow, and took the mother, with her infant of scarcely a day old, upon her bed to the boat, in which they carefully conveyed her and the other members of the family to the fort. a party of soldiers, consisting of a corporal and six men, had that afternoon obtained leave to go up the river to fish. they had not returned when the fugitives from lee's place arrived at the fort, and, fearing that they might encounter the indians, the commanding officer ordered a cannon to be fired, to warn them of danger. they were at the time about two miles above lee's place. hearing the signal, they took the hint, put out their torches (for it was now night), and dropped down the river towards the garrison, as silently as possible. it will be remembered that the unsettled state of the country since the battle of tippecanoe, the preceding november, had rendered every man vigilant, and the slightest alarm was an admonition to "beware of the indians." when the fishing-party reached lee's place, it was proposed to stop and warn the inmates to be upon their guard, as the signal from the fort indicated danger of some kind. all was still as death around the house. they groped their way along, and as the corporal jumped over the small enclosure he placed his hand upon the dead body of a man. by the sense of touch he soon ascertained that the head was without a scalp, and otherwise mutilated. the faithful dog of the murdered man stood guarding the lifeless remains of his master. the tale was now told. the men retreated to their canoes, and reached the fort unmolested about eleven o'clock at night. the next morning a party of the citizens and soldiers volunteered to go to lee's place, to learn further the fate of its occupants. the body of mr. white was found pierced by two balls, and with eleven stabs in the breast. the frenchman, as already described, lay dead, with his dog still beside him. their bodies were brought to the fort and buried in its immediate vicinity. it was subsequently ascertained, from traders out in the indian country, that the perpetrators of this bloody deed were a party of winnebagoes, who had come into this neighborhood to "take some white scalps." their plan had been, to proceed down the river from lee's place, and kill every white man without the walls of the fort. hearing, however, the report of the cannon, and not knowing what it portended, they thought it best to remain satisfied with this one exploit, and forthwith retreated to their homes on rock river. the inhabitants outside the fort, consisting of a few discharged soldiers and some families of half-breeds, now intrenched themselves in the agency house. this stood west of the fort, between the pickets and the river, and distant about twenty rods from the former. it was an old-fashioned log building, with a hall running through the centre, and one large room on each side. piazzas extended the whole length of the building in front and rear. these were planked up, for greater security, port-holes were cut, and sentinels posted at night. as the enemy were believed to be lurking still in the neighborhood, or, emboldened by former success, likely to return at any moment, an order was issued prohibiting any soldier or citizen from leaving the vicinity of the garrison without a guard. one night a sergeant and private, who were out on a patrol, came suddenly upon a party of indians in the pasture adjoining the esplanade. the sergeant fired his piece, and both retreated towards the fort. before they could reach it, an indian threw his tomahawk, which missed the sergeant and struck a wagon standing near. the sentinel from the block-house immediately fired, and with effect, while the men got safely in. the next morning it was ascertained, from traces of blood to a considerable distance into the prairie, and from the appearance of a body having been laid among the long grass, that some execution had been done. on another occasion the enemy entered the esplanade to steal horses. not finding them in the stable, as they had expected, they made themselves amends for their disappointment by stabbing all the sheep in the stable and then letting them loose. the poor animals flocked towards the fort. this gave the alarm--the garrison was aroused--parties were sent out, but the marauders escaped unmolested. * * * * * the inmates of the fort experienced no farther alarm for many weeks. on the afternoon of the th of august, winnemeg, or _catfish_, a pottowattamie chief, arrived at the post, bringing despatches from general hull. these announced the declaration of war between the united states and great britain, and that general hull, at the head of the northwestern army, had arrived at detroit; also, that the island of mackinac had fallen into the hands of the british. the orders to captain heald were, "to evacuate the fort, if practicable, and, in that event, to distribute all the united states' property contained in the fort, and in the united states' factory or agency, among the indians in the neighborhood." after having delivered his despatches, winnemeg requested a private interview with mr. kinzie, who had taken up his residence in the fort. he stated to mr. k. that he was acquainted with the purport of the communications he had brought, and begged him to ascertain if it were the intention of captain heald to evacuate the post. he advised strongly against such a step, inasmuch as the garrison was well supplied with ammunition, and with provisions for six months. it would, therefore, be far better, he thought, to remain until a reinforcement could be sent to their assistance. if, however, captain heald should decide upon leaving the post, it should by all means be done immediately. the pottowattamies, through whose country they must pass, being ignorant of the object of winnemeg's mission, a forced march might be made, before those who were hostile in their feelings were prepared to interrupt them. of this advice, so earnestly given, captain heald was immediately informed. he replied that it was his intention to evacuate the post, but that, inasmuch as he had received orders to distribute the united states' property, he should not feel justified in leaving it until he had collected the indians of the neighborhood and made an equitable division among them. winnemeg then suggested the expediency of marching out, and leaving all things standing--possibly while the indians were engaged in the partition of the spoils, the troops might effect their retreat unmolested. this advice was strongly seconded by mr. kinzie, but did not meet the approbation of the commanding officer. the order for evacuating the post was read next morning upon parade. it is difficult to understand why captain heald, in such an emergency, omitted the usual form of calling a council of war with his officers. it can only be accounted for by the fact of a want of harmonious feeling between himself and one of his junior officers--ensign ronan, a high-spirited and somewhat overbearing, but brave and generous young man. in the course of the day, finding that no council was called, the officers waited on captain heald to be informed what course he intended to pursue. when they learned his intentions, they remonstrated with him, on the following grounds: first--it was highly improbable that the command would be permitted to pass through the country in safety to fort wayne. for although it had been said that some of the chiefs had opposed an attack upon the fort, planned the preceding autumn, yet it was well known that they had been actuated in that matter by motives of private regard to one family, that of mr. kinzie, and not to any general friendly feeling towards the americans; and that, at any rate, it was hardly to be expected that these few individuals would be able to control the whole tribe, who were thirsting for blood. in the next place--their march must necessarily be slow, as their movements must be accommodated to the helplessness of the women and children, of whom there were a number with the detachment. that of their small force, some of the soldiers were superannuated, others invalid; therefore, since the course to be pursued was left discretional, their unanimous advice was, to remain where they were, and fortify themselves as strongly as possible. succors from the other side of the peninsula might arrive before they could be attacked by the british from mackinac; and even should they not, it were far better to fall into the hands of the latter than to become the victims of the savages. captain heald argued in reply, that a special order had been issued by the war department, that no post should be surrendered without battle having been given, and his force was totally inadequate to an engagement with the indians; that he should unquestionably be censured for remaining, when there appeared a prospect of a safe march through; and that, upon the whole, he deemed it expedient to assemble the indians, distribute the property among them, and then ask of them an escort to fort wayne, with the promise of a considerable reward upon their safe arrival--adding, that he had full confidence in the friendly professions of the indians, from whom, as well as from the soldiers, the capture of mackinac had been kept a profound secret. from this time the officers held themselves aloof, and spoke but little upon the subject, though they considered the project of captain heald little short of madness. the dissatisfaction among the soldiers hourly increased, until it reached a high pitch of insubordination. upon one occasion, as captain heald was conversing with mr. kinzie upon the parade, he remarked, "i could not remain, even if i thought it best, for i have but a small store of provisions." "why, captain," said a soldier who stood near, forgetting all etiquette in the excitement of the moment, "you have cattle enough to last the troops six months." "but," replied captain heald, "i have no salt to preserve it with." "then jerk[ ] it," said the man, "as the indians do their venison." the indians now became daily more unruly. entering the fort in defiance of the sentinels, they made their way without ceremony into the officers' quarters. on one occasion an indian took up a rifle and fired it in the parlor of the commanding officer, as an expression of defiance. some were of opinion that this was intended among the young men as a signal for an attack. the old chiefs passed backwards and forwards among the assembled groups, with the appearance of the most lively agitation, while the squaws rushed to and fro, in great excitement, and evidently prepared for some fearful scene. any further manifestation of ill feeling was, however, suppressed for the present, and captain heald, strange as it may seem, continued to entertain a conviction of having created so amicable a disposition among the indians as would insure the safety of the command on their march to fort wayne. thus passed the time until the th of august. the feelings of the inmates of the fort during this time may be better imagined than described. each morning that dawned seemed to bring them nearer to that most appalling fate--butchery by a savage foe--and at night they scarcely dared yield to slumber, lest they should be aroused by the war-whoop and tomahawk. gloom and mistrust prevailed, and the want of unanimity among the officers debarred them the consolation they might have found in mutual sympathy and encouragement. the indians being assembled from the neighboring villages, a council was held with them on the afternoon of the th. captain heald alone attended on the part of the military. he requested his officers to accompany him, but they declined. they had been secretly informed that it was the intention of the young chiefs to fall upon the officers and massacre them while in council, but they could not persuade captain heald of the truth of their information. they waited therefore only until he had left the garrison, accompanied by mr. kinzie, when they took command of the block-houses which overlooked the esplanade on which the council was held, opened the port-holes, and pointed the cannon so as to command the whole assembly. by this means, probably, the lives of the whites who were present in council were preserved. in council, the commanding officer informed the indians that it was his intention to distribute among them, the next day, not only the goods lodged in the united states' factory, but also the ammunition and provisions, with which the garrison was well supplied. he then requested of the pottowattamies an escort to fort wayne, promising them a liberal reward on arriving there, in addition to the presents they were now about to receive. with many professions of friendship and good will, the savages assented to all be proposed, and promised all he required. after the council, mr. kinzie, who understood well, not only the indian character, but the present tone of feeling among them, had a long interview with captain heald, in hopes of opening his eyes to the present posture of affairs. he reminded him that since the troubles with the indians upon the wabash and its vicinity, there had appeared a settled plan of hostilities towards the whites, in consequence of which it had been the policy of the americans to withhold from them whatever would enable them to carry on their warfare upon the defenceless inhabitants of the frontier. mr. kinzie also recalled to captain heald how that, having left home for detroit, the preceding autumn, on receiving, when he had proceeded as far as de charme's,[ ] the intelligence of the battle of tippecanoe, he had immediately returned to chicago, that he might dispatch orders to his traders to furnish no ammunition to the indians; in consequence of which all they had on hand was secreted, and such of the traders as had not already started for their wintering-grounds, took neither powder nor shot with them. captain heald was struck with the impolicy of furnishing the enemy (for such they must now consider their old neighbors) with arms against himself, and determined to destroy all the ammunition except what should be necessary for the use of his own troops. on the th, the goods, consisting of blankets, broadcloths, calicoes, paints, etc., were distributed, as stipulated. the same evening the ammunition and liquor were carried, part into the sally-port, and thrown into a well which had been dug there to supply the garrison with water in case of emergency; the remainder was transported as secretly as possible through the northern gate, the heads of the barrels knocked in, and the contents poured into the river. the same fate was shared by a large quantity of alcohol belonging to mr. kinzie, which had been deposited in a warehouse near his residence opposite the fort. the indians suspected what was going on, and crept, serpent-like, as near the scene of action as possible, but a vigilant watch was kept up, and no one was suffered to approach but those engaged in the affair. all the muskets not necessary for the command on the march were broken up and thrown into the well, together with the bags of shot, flints, gunscrews, and, in short, everything relating to weapons of offence. some relief to the general feeling of despondency was afforded, by the arrival, on the th of august, of captain wells[ ] with fifteen friendly miamis. of this brave man, who forms so conspicuous a figure in our frontier annals, it is unnecessary here to say more than that he had been residing from his boyhood among the indians, and consequently possessed a perfect knowledge of their character and habits. he had heard, at fort wayne, of the order for evacuating the fort at chicago, and, knowing the hostile determination of the pottowattamies, he had made a rapid march across the country, to prevent the exposure of his relative, captain heald, and his troops, to certain destruction. but he came "all too late." when he reached the post he found that the ammunition had been destroyed, and the provisions given to the indians. there was, therefore, now no alternative, and every preparation was made for the march of the troops on the following morning. on the afternoon of the same day, a second council was held with the indians. they expressed great indignation at the destruction of the ammunition and liquor. notwithstanding the precautions that had been taken to preserve secrecy, the noise of knocking in the heads of the barrels had betrayed the operations of the preceding night; indeed, so great was the quantity of liquor thrown into the river, that the taste of the water the next morning was, as one expressed it, "strong grog." murmurs and threats were everywhere heard among the savages. it was evident that the first moment of exposure would subject the troops to some manifestation of their disappointment and resentment. among the chiefs were several who, although they shared the general hostile feeling of their tribe towards the americans, yet retained a personal regard for the troops at this post, and for the few white citizens of the place. these chiefs exerted their utmost influence to allay the revengeful feelings of the young men, and to avert their sanguinary designs, but without effect. on the evening succeeding the council, _black partridge_, a conspicuous chief, entered the quarters of the commanding officer. "father," said he, "i come to deliver up to you the medal i wear. it was given me by the americans, and i have long worn it in token of our mutual friendship. but our young men are resolved to imbrue their hands in the blood of the whites. i cannot restrain them, and i will not wear a token of peace while i am compelled to act as an enemy." had further evidence been wanting, this circumstance would have sufficiently proved to the devoted band the justice of their melancholy anticipations. nevertheless, they went steadily on with the necessary preparations; and, amid the horrors of their situation, there were not wanting gallant hearts, who strove to encourage, in their desponding companions, the hopes of escape they were far from indulging themselves. of the ammunition there had been reserved but twenty-five rounds, besides one box of cartridges, contained in the baggage-wagons. this must, under any circumstances of danger, have proved an inadequate supply; but the prospect of a fatiguing march, in their present ineffective state, forbade the troops embarrassing themselves with a larger quantity. chapter xix. narrative of the massacre, continued. the morning of the th arrived. all things were in readiness, and nine o'clock was the hour named for starting. mr. kinzie, having volunteered to accompany the troops in their march, had intrusted his family to the care of some friendly indians, who promised to convey them in a boat around the head of lake michigan to a point[ ] on the st. joseph's river, there to be joined by the troops, should the prosecution of their march be permitted them. early in the morning mr. kinzie received a message from to-pee-nee-bee, a chief of the st. joseph's band, informing him that mischief was intended by the pottowattamies who had engaged to escort the detachment, and urging him to relinquish his design of accompanying the troops by land, promising him that the boat containing himself and family should be permitted to pass in safety to st. joseph's. mr. kinzie declined acceding to this proposal, as he believed that his presence might operate as a restraint upon the fury of the savages, so warmly were the greater part of them attached to himself and his family. the party in the boat consisted of mrs. kinzie and her four younger children, their nurse josette, a clerk of mr. kinzie's, two servants and the boatmen, besides the two indians who acted as their protectors. the boat started, but had scarcely reached the mouth of the river, which, it will be recollected, was here half a mile below the fort, when another messenger from to-pee-nee-bee arrived to detain them where they were. there was no mistaking the reason of this detention. in breathless anxiety sat the wife and mother. she was a woman of uncommon energy and strength of character, yet her heart died within her as she folded her arms around her helpless infants, and gazed upon the march of her husband and eldest child to certain destruction. as the troops left the fort, the band struck up the dead march. on they came, in military array, but with solemn mien. captain wells took the lead at the head of his little band of miamis. he had blackened his face before leaving the garrison, in token of his impending fate. they took their route along the lake shore. when they reached the point where commenced a range of sand-hills intervening between the prairie and the beach, the escort of pottowattamies, in number about five hundred, kept the level of the prairie, instead of continuing along the beach with the americans and miamis. they had marched perhaps a mile and a half, when captain wells, who had kept somewhat in advance with his miamis, came riding furiously back. "they are about to attack us," shouted he; "form instantly, and charge upon them." scarcely were the words uttered, when a volley was showered from among the sand-hills. the troops were hastily brought into line, and charged up the bank. one man, a veteran of seventy winters, fell as they ascended. the remainder of the scene is best described in the words of an eye-witness and participator in the tragedy, mrs. helm, the wife of captain (then lieutenant) helm, and step-daughter of mr. kinzie. * * * * * "after we had left the bank the firing became general. the miamis fled at the outset. their chief rode up to the pottowattamies, and said: "'you have deceived the americans and us. you have done a bad action, and (brandishing his tomahawk) i will be the first to head a party of americans to return and punish your treachery.' so saying, he galloped after his companions, who were now scouring across the prairies. "the troops behaved most gallantly. they were but a handful, but they seemed resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible. our horses pranced and bounded, and could hardly be restrained as the balls whistled among them. i drew off a little, and gazed upon my husband and father, who were yet unharmed. i felt that my hour was come, and endeavored to forget those i loved, and prepare myself for my approaching fate. "while i was thus engaged, the surgeon, dr. van voorhees, came up. he was badly wounded. his horse had been shot under him, and he had received a ball in his leg. every muscle of his face was quivering with the agony of terror. he said to me, 'do you think they will take our lives? i am badly wounded, but i think not mortally. perhaps we might purchase our lives by promising them a large reward. do you think there is any chance?' "'dr. van voorhees,' said i, 'do not let us waste the few moments that yet remain to us in such vain hopes. our fate is inevitable. in a few moments we must appear before the bar of god. let us make what preparation is yet in our power.' "'oh, i cannot die!' exclaimed he, 'i am not fit to die--if i had but a short time to prepare--death is awful!' "i pointed to ensign ronan, who, though mortally wounded and nearly down, was still fighting with desperation on one knee.[ ] "'look at that man!' said i. 'at least he dies like a soldier.' "'yes,' replied the unfortunate man, with a convulsive gasp, 'but he has no terrors of the future--he is an unbeliever!' "at this moment a young indian raised his tomahawk at me. by springing aside, i partially avoided the blow, which was intended for my skull, but which alighted on my shoulder. i seized him around the neck, and while exerting my utmost efforts to get possession of his scalping-knife, which hung in a scabbard over his breast, i was dragged from his grasp by another and older indian. "the latter bore me struggling and resisting towards the lake. notwithstanding the rapidity with which i was harried along, i recognized, as i passed them, the lifeless remains of the unfortunate surgeon. some murderous tomahawk had stretched him upon the very spot where i had last seen him. "i was immediately plunged into the water and held there with a forcible hand, notwithstanding my resistance. i soon perceived, however, that the object of my captor was not to drown me, for he held me firmly in such a position as to place my head above water. this reassured me, and, regarding him attentively, i soon recognized, in spite of the paint with which he was disguised, _the black partridge_. "when the firing had nearly subsided, my preserver bore me from the water and conducted me up the sand-banks. it was a burning august morning, and walking through the sand in my drenched condition was inexpressibly painful and fatiguing. i stooped and took off my shoes to free them from the sand with which they were nearly filled, when a squaw seized and carried them off, and i was obliged to proceed without them. "when we had gained the prairie, i was met by my father, who told me that my husband was safe and but slightly wounded. they led me gently back towards the chicago river, along the southern bank of which was the pottowattamie encampment. at one time i was placed upon a horse without a saddle, but, finding the motion insupportable, i sprang off. supported partly by my kind conductor, _black partridge_, and partly by another indian, pee-so-tum, who held dangling in his hand a scalp, which by the black ribbon around the queue i recognized as that of captain wells, i dragged my fainting steps to one of the wigwams. "the wife of wau-bee-nee-mah, a chief from the illinois river, was standing near, and, seeing my exhausted condition, she seized a kettle, dipped up some water from a stream that flowed near,[ ] threw into it some maple-sugar, and, stirring it up with her hand, gave it me to drink. this act of kindness, in the midst of so many horrors, touched me most sensibly; but my attention was soon diverted to other objects. "the fort had become a scene of plunder to such as remained after the troops marched out. the cattle had been shot down as they ran at large, and lay dead or dying around. this work of butchery had commenced just as we were leaving the fort. i well remembered a remark of ensign ronan, as the firing went on. 'such,' turning to me, 'is to be our fate--to be shot down like brutes!' "'well, sir,' said the commanding officer, who overheard him, 'are you afraid?' "'no,' replied the high-spirited young man, 'i can march up to the enemy where you dare not show your face.' and his subsequent gallant behavior showed this to be no idle boast. "as the noise of the firing grew gradually less and the stragglers from the victorious party came dropping in, i received confirmation of what my father had hurriedly communicated in our _rencontre_ on the lake shore; namely, that the whites had surrendered, after the loss of about two-thirds of their number. they had stipulated, through the interpreter, peresh leclerc, for the preservation of their lives, and those of the remaining women and children, and for their delivery at some of the british posts, unless ransomed by traders in the indian country. it appears that the wounded prisoners were not considered as included in the stipulation, and a horrid scene ensued upon their being brought into camp. "an old squaw, infuriated by the loss of friends, or excited by the sanguinary scenes around her, seemed possessed by a demoniac ferocity. she seized a stable-fork and assaulted one miserable victim, who lay groaning and writhing in the agony of his wounds, aggravated by the scorching beams of the sun. with a delicacy of feeling scarcely to have been expected under such circumstances, wau-bee-nee-mah stretched a mat across two poles, between me and this dreadful scene. i was thus spared in some degree a view of its horrors, although i could not entirely close my ears to the cries of the sufferer the following night five more of the wounded prisoners were tomahawked." * * * * * the americans, it appears, after their first attack by the indians, charged upon those who had concealed themselves in a sort of ravine, intervening between the sand-banks and the prairie. the latter gathered themselves into a body, and after some hard fighting, in which the number of whites had become reduced to twenty-eight, this little band succeeded in breaking through the enemy, and gaining a rising ground, not far from the oak woods. further contest now seeming hopeless, lieutenant helm sent peresh leclerc, a half-breed boy in the service of mr. kinzie, who had accompanied the detachment and fought manfully on their side, to propose terms of capitulation. it was stipulated that the lives of all the survivors should be spared, and a ransom permitted as soon as practicable. but in the mean time a horrible scene had been enacted. one young savage, climbing into the baggage-wagon containing the children of the white families, twelve in number, tomahawked the entire group. this was during the engagement near the sand-hills. when captain wells, who was fighting near, beheld it, he exclaimed,-- "is that their game, butchering the women and children? then i will kill, too!" so saying, he turned his horse's head, and started for the indian camp, near the fort, where had been left their squaws and children. several indians pursued him as he galloped along. he laid himself flat on the neck of his horse, loading and firing in that position, as he would occasionally turn on his pursuers. at length their balls took effect, killing his horse, and severely wounding himself. at this moment he was met by _winnemeg_ and _wau-ban-see_, who endeavored to save him from the savages who had now overtaken him. as they supported him along, after having disengaged him from his horse, he received his death-blow from another indian, _pee-so-tum_, who stabbed him in the back. the heroic resolution of one of the soldiers' wives deserves to be recorded. she was a mrs. corbin, and had, from the first, expressed the determination never to fall into the hands of the savages, believing that their prisoners were always subjected to tortures worse than death. when, therefore, a party came upon her, to make her a prisoner, she fought with desperation, refusing to surrender, although assured, by signs, of safety and kind treatment, and literally suffered herself to be cut to pieces, rather than become their captive. there was a sergeant holt, who, early in the engagement, received a ball in the neck. finding himself badly wounded, he gave his sword to his wife, who was on horseback near him, telling her to defend herself; he then made for the lake, to keep out of the way of the balls. mrs. holt rode a very fine horse, which the indians were desirous of possessing, and they therefore attacked her, in hopes of dismounting her. they fought only with the butt-ends of their guns, for their object was not to kill her. she hacked and hewed at their pieces as they were thrust against her, now on this side, now that. finally, she broke loose from them, and dashed out into the prairie. the indians pursued her, shouting and laughing, and now and then calling out,-- "the brave woman! do not hurt her!" at length they overtook her again, and, while she was engaged with two or three in front, one succeeded in seizing her by the neck behind, and dragging her, although a large and powerful woman, from her horse. notwithstanding that their guns had been so hacked and injured, and even themselves cut severely, they seemed to regard her only with admiration. they took her to a trader on the illinois river, by whom she was restored to her friends, after having received every kindness during her captivity.[ ] those of the family of mr. kinzie who had remained in the boat, near the mouth of the river, were carefully guarded by kee-po-tah and another indian. they had seen the smoke--then the blaze--and immediately after, the report of the first tremendous discharge sounded in their ears. then all was confusion they realized nothing until they saw an indian come towards them from the battle-ground, leading a horse on which sat a lady, apparently wounded. "that is mrs. heald," cried mrs. kinzie. "that indian will kill her. run, chandonnai," to one of mr. kinzie's clerks, "take the mule that is tied there, and offer it to him to release her." her captor, by this time, was in the act of disengaging her bonnet from her head, in order to scalp her. chandonnai ran up, and offered the mule as a ransom, with the promise of ten bottles of whiskey as soon as they should reach his village. the latter was a strong temptation. "but," said the indian, "she is badly wounded--she will die. will you give me the whiskey at all events?" chandonnai promised that he would, and the bargain was concluded. the savage placed the lady's bonnet on his own head, and, after an ineffectual effort on the part of some squaws to rob her of her shoes and stockings, she was brought on board the boat, where she lay moaning with pain from the many bullet-wounds she had received in both arms. the horse mrs. heald had ridden was a fine, spirited animal, and, being desirous of possessing themselves of it uninjured, the indians had aimed their shots so as to disable the rider, without injuring her steed. she had not lain long in the boat, when a young indian of savage aspect was seen appapproaching buffalo robe was hastily drawn over her, and she was admonished to suppress all sound of complaint, as she valued her life. the heroic woman remained perfectly silent, while the savage drew near. he had a pistol in his hand, which he rested on the side of the boat, while, with a fearful scowl, he looked pryingly around. black jim, one of the servants, who stood in the bow of the boat, seized an axe that lay near, and signed to him that if he shot, he would cleave his skull; telling him that the boat contained only the family of shaw-nee-aw-kee. upon this, the indian retired. it afterwards appeared that the object of his search was mr. burnett, a trader from st. joseph's, with whom he had some account to settle. when the boat was at length permitted to return to the mansion of mr. kinzie, and mrs. heald was removed to the house, it became necessary to dress her wounds. mr. k. applied to an old chief who stood by, and who, like most of his tribe, possessed some skill in surgery, to extract a ball from the arm of the sufferer. "no, father," replied he. "i cannot do it--it makes me sick here"--(placing his hand on his heart.) mr. kinzie then performed the operation himself, with his penknife. at their own mansion the family of mr. kinzie were closely guarded by their indian friends, whose intention it was to carry them to detroit for security. the rest of the prisoners remained at the wigwams of their captors. the following morning, the work of plunder being completed, the indians set fire to the fort. a very equitable distribution of the finery appeared to have been made, and shawls, ribbons, and feathers fluttered about in all directions. the ludicrous appearance of one young fellow, who had arrayed himself in a muslin gown and the bonnet of one of the ladies, would, under other circumstances, have afforded matter of amusement. black partridge, wau-ban-see, and kee-po-tah, with two other indians, having established themselves in the porch of the building as sentinels, to protect the family from any evil that the young men might be excited to commit, all remained tranquil for a short space after the conflagration. very soon, however, a party of indians from the wabash made their appearance. these were, decidedly, the most hostile and implacable of all the tribes of the pottowattamies. being more remote, they had shared less than some of their brethren in the kindness of mr. kinzie and his family, and consequently their sentiments of regard for them were less powerful. runners had been sent to the villages to apprise them of the intended evacuation of the post, as well as of the plan of the indians assembled to attack the troops. thirsting to participate in such a scene, they hurried on; and great was their mortification, on arriving at the river aux plaines, to meet with a party of their friends having with them their chief nee-scot-nee-meg, badly wounded, and to learn that the battle was over, the spoils divided, and the scalps all taken. on arriving at chicago they blackened their faces, and proceeded towards the dwelling of mr. kinzie. from his station on the piazza black partridge had watched their approach, and his fears were particularly awakened for the safety of mrs. helm (mr. kinzie's step-daughter), who had recently come to the post, and was personally unknown to the more remote indians. by his advice she was made to assume the ordinary dress of a frenchwoman of the country; namely, a short gown and petticoat, with a blue cotton handkerchief wrapped around her head. in this disguise she was conducted by black partridge himself to the house of ouilmette, a frenchman with a half-breed wife, who formed a part of the establishment of mr. kinzie and whose dwelling was close at hand. it so happened that the indians came first to this house, in their search for prisoners. as they approached, the inmates, fearful that the fair complexion and general appearance of mrs. helm might betray her for an american, raised a large feather bed and placed her under the edge of it, upon the bedstead, with her face to the wall. mrs. bisson, a half-breed, the sister of ouilmette's wife, then seated herself with her sewing upon the front of the bed. it was a hot day in august, and the feverish excitement of fear and agitation, together with her position, which was nearly suffocating, became so intolerable, that mrs. helm at length entreated to be released and given up to the indians. "i can but die," said she; "let them put an end to my misery at once." mrs. bisson replied, "your death would be the destruction of us all, for black partridge has resolved that if one drop of the blood of your family is spilled, he will take the lives of all concerned in it, even his nearest friends; and if once the work of murder commences, there will be no end of it, so long as there remains one white person or half-breed in the country." this expostulation nerved mrs. helm with fresh resolution. the indians entered, and she could occasionally see them from her hiding-place, gliding about, and stealthily inspecting every part of the room, though without making any ostensible search, until, apparently satisfied that there was no one concealed, they left the house. all this time mrs. bisson had kept her seat upon the side of the bed, calmly sorting and arranging the patch-work of the quilt on which she was engaged, and preserving an appearance of the utmost tranquillity, although she knew not but that the next moment she might receive a tomahawk in her brain. her self-command unquestionably saved the lives of all present. from ouilmette's house the party of indians proceeded to the dwelling of mr. kinzie. they entered the parlor in which the family were assembled with their faithful protectors, and seated themselves upon the floor in silence. black partridge perceived from their moody and revengeful looks what was passing in their minds, but he dared not remonstrate with them. he only observed in a low tone to wau-ban-see,-- "we have endeavored to save our friends, but it is in vain--nothing will save them now." at this moment a friendly whoop was heard from a party of new-comers on the opposite bank of the river. black partridge sprang to meet their leader, as the canoes in which they had hastily embarked touched the bank near the house. "who are you?" demanded he. "a man. who are _you_?" "a man like yourself. but tell me _who_ you are,"--meaning, tell me your disposition, and which side you are for. "i am a _sau-ga-nash_!" "then make all speed to the house--your friend is in danger, and you alone can save him." _billy caldwell_[ ] for it was he, entered the parlor with a calm step, and without a trace of agitation in his manner. he deliberately took off his accoutrements and placed them with his rifle behind the door, then saluted the hostile savages. "how now, my friends! a good-day to you. i was told there were enemies here, but i am glad to find only friends. why have you blackened your faces? is it that you are mourning for the friends you have lost in battle?" (purposely misunderstanding this token of evil designs.) "or is it that you are fasting? if so, ask our friend, here, and he will give you to eat. he is the indian's friend, and never yet refused them what they had need of." thus taken by surprise, the savages were ashamed to acknowledge their bloody purpose. they, therefore, said modestly that they came to beg of their friends some white cotton in which to wrap their dead before interring them. this was given to them, with some other presents, and they took their departure peaceably from the premises. along with mr. kinzie's party was a non-commissioned officer who had made his escape in a singular manner. as the troops were about leaving the fort, it was found that the baggage-horses of the surgeon had strayed off. the quartermaster-sergeant, griffith, was sent to collect them and bring them on, it being absolutely necessary to recover them, since their packs contained part of the surgeon's apparatus, and the medicines for the march. this man had been for a long time on the sick report and for this reason was given the charge of the baggage, instead of being placed with the troops. his efforts to recover the horses being unsuccessful, he was hastening to rejoin his party, alarmed at some appearances of disorder and hostile indications among the indians, when he was met and made prisoner by to-pee-nee-bee. having taken from him his arms and accoutrements, the chief put him into a canoe and paddled him across the river, bidding him make for the woods and secrete himself. this he did; and the following day, in the afternoon, seeing from his lurking-place that all appeared quiet, he ventured to steal cautiously into the garden of ouilmette, where he concealed himself for a time behind some currant-bushes. at length he determined to enter the house, and accordingly climbed up through a small back window into the room where the family were. this was just as the wabash indians had left the house of ouilmette for that of mr. kinzie. the danger of the sergeant was now imminent. the family stripped him of his uniform and arrayed him in a suit of deer-skin, with belt, moccasins, and pipe, like a french engagé. his dark complexion and large black whiskers favored the disguise. the family were all ordered to address him in french, and, although utterly ignorant of the language, he continued to pass for a _weem-tee-gosh_,[ ] and as such to accompany mr. kinzie and his family, undetected by his enemies, until they reached a place of safety. on the third day after the battle, the family of mr. kinzie, with the clerks of the establishment, were put into a boat, under the care of françois, a half-breed interpreter, and conveyed to st. joseph's, where they remained until the following november, under the protection of to-pee-nee-bee's band. they were then conducted to detroit, under the escort of chandonnai and their trusty indian friend, kee-po-tah, and delivered up, as prisoners of war, to colonel mckee, the british indian agent. mr. kinzie was not allowed to leave st. joseph's with his family, his indian friends insisting on his remaining and endeavoring to secure some remnant of his scattered property. during his excursions with them for that purpose, he wore the costume and paint of the tribe, in order to escape capture and perhaps death at the hands of those who were still thirsting for blood. in time, however, his anxiety for his family induced him to follow them to detroit, where, in the month of january, he was received and paroled by general proctor. captain and mrs. heald were sent across the lake to st. joseph the day after the battle. the former had received two wounds, the latter seven, in the engagement. lieutenant helm, who was likewise wounded, was carried by some friendly indians to their village on the au sable, and thence to peoria, where he was liberated by the intervention of mr. thomas forsyth, the half-brother of mr. kinzie. mrs. helm accompanied her parents to st. joseph, where they resided in the family of alexander robinson,[ ] receiving from them all possible kindness and hospitality for several months. after their arrival in detroit, mrs. helm was joined by her husband, when they were both arrested by order of the british commander, and sent on horseback, in the dead of winter, through canada to fort george, on the niagara frontier. when they arrived at that post, there had been no official appointed to receive them, and, notwithstanding their long and fatiguing journey in weather the most cold and inclement, mrs. helm, a delicate woman of seventeen years, was permitted to sit waiting in her saddle, outside the gate, for more than an hour, before the refreshment of fire or food, or even the shelter of a roof, was offered them. when colonel sheaffe, who had been absent at the time, was informed of this brutal inhospitality, he expressed the greatest indignation. he waited on mrs. helm immediately, apologized in the most courteous manner, and treated both her and lieutenant helm with the most considerate kindness, until, by an exchange of prisoners, they were liberated, and found means to reach their friends in steuben county, n.y. captain heald had been taken prisoner by an indian from the kankakee, who had a strong personal regard for him, and who, when he saw the wounded and enfeebled state of mrs. heald, released her husband that he might accompany his wife to st. joseph. to the latter place they were accordingly carried, as has been related, by chandonnai and his party. in the mean time, the indian who had so nobly released his prisoner returned to his village on the kankakee, where he had the mortification of finding that his conduct had excited great dissatisfaction among his band. so great was the displeasure manifested, that he resolved to make a journey to st. joseph and reclaim his prisoner. news of his intention being brought to to-pee-nee-bee and kee-po-tah, under whose care the prisoners were, they held a private council with chandonnai, mr. kinzie, and the principal men of the village, the result of which was a determination to send captain and mrs. heald to the island of mackinac, and deliver them up to the british. they were accordingly put in a bark canoe, and paddled by robinson and his wife a distance of three hundred miles along the coast of michigan, and surrendered as prisoners of war to the commanding officer at mackinac. as an instance of the procrastinating spirit of captain heald, it may be mentioned that, even after he had received certain intelligence that his indian captor was on his way from the kankakee to st. joseph to retake him, he would still have delayed another day at that place, to make preparation for a more comfortable journey to mackinac. the soldiers, with their wives and surviving children, were dispersed among the different villages of the pottowattamies upon the illinois, wabash, rock river, and at milwaukie, until the following spring, when they were, for the most part, carried to detroit and ransomed. mrs. burns, with her infant, became the prisoner of a chief, who carried her to his village and treated her with great kindness. his wife, from jealousy of the favor shown to "the white woman" and her child, always treated them with great hostility. on one occasion she struck the infant with a tomahawk, and narrowly missed her aim of putting an end to it altogether.[ ] they were not left long in the power of the old hag after this demonstration, but on the first opportunity were carried to a place of safety. the family of mr. lee had resided in a house on the lake shore, not far from the fort. mr. lee was the owner of lee's place, which he cultivated as a farm. it was his son who ran down with the discharged soldier to give the alarm of "indians," at the fort, on the afternoon of the th of april. the father, the son, and all the other members of the family had fallen victims on the th of august, except mrs. lee and her young infant. these were claimed by black partridge, and carried to his village on the au sable. he had been particularly attached to a little girl of mrs. lee's, about twelve years of age. this child had been placed on horseback for the march; and, as she was unaccustomed to the exercise, she was tied fast to the saddle, lest by any accident she should slip off or be thrown. she was within reach of the balls at the commencement of the engagement, and was severely wounded. the horse set off on a full gallop, which partly threw her, but she was held fast by the bands which confined her, and hung dangling as the animal ran violently about. in this state she was met by black partridge, who caught the horse and disengaged her from the saddle. finding her so much wounded that she could not recover, and that she was suffering great agony, he put the finishing stroke to her at once with his tomahawk. he afterwards said that this was the hardest thing he ever tried to do, but he did it because he could not bear to see her suffer. he took the mother and her infant to his village, where he became warmly attached to the former--so much so, that he wished to marry her; but, as she very naturally objected, he treated her with the greatest respect and consideration. he was in no hurry to release her, for he was in hopes of prevailing on her to become his wife. in the course of the winter her child fell ill. finding that none of the remedies within their reach were effectual, black partridge proposed to take the little one to chicago, where there was now a french trader living in the mansion of mr. kinzie, and procure some medical aid from him. wrapping up his charge with the greatest care, he set out on his journey. when he arrived at the residence of m. du pin, he entered the room where he was, and carefully placed his burden on the floor. "what have you there?" asked m. du pin. "a young raccoon, which i have brought you as a present," was the reply; and, opening the pack, he showed the little sick infant. when the trader had prescribed for its complaint, and black partridge was about to return to his home, he told his friend of the proposal he had made to mrs. lee to become his wife, and the manner in which it had been received. m. du pin, entertaining some fears that the chief's honorable resolution to leave it to the lady herself whether to accept his addresses or not, might not hold out, entered at once into a negotiation for her ransom, and so effectually wrought upon the good feelings of black partridge that he consented to bring his fair prisoner at once to chicago, that she might be restored to her friends. whether the kind trader had at the outset any other feeling in the matter than sympathy and brotherly kindness, we cannot say; we only know that in process of time mrs. lee became madame du pin, and that the worthy couple lived together in great happiness for many years after. the fate of nau-non-gee, one of the chiefs of the calumet village, and who is mentioned in the early part of the narrative, deserves to be recorded. daring the battle of the th of august, the chief object of his attack was one sergeant hays, a man from whom he had received many acts of kindness. after hays had received a ball through the body, this indian ran up to him to tomahawk him, when the sergeant, collecting his remaining strength, pierced him through the body with his bayonet. they fell together. other indians running up soon dispatched hays, and it was not until then that his bayonet was extracted from the body of his adversary. the wounded chief was carried after the battle to his village on the calumet, where he survived for several days. finding his end approaching, he called together his young men, and enjoined them, in the most solemn manner, to regard the safety of their prisoners after his death, and to take the lives of none of them from respect to his memory, as he deserved his fate from the hands of those whose kindness he had so ill requited. chapter xx. captivity of j. kinzie, sen.--an amusing mistake. it had been a stipulation of general hull at the surrender of detroit, which took place the day after the massacre at chicago, that the inhabitants should be permitted to remain undisturbed in their homes. accordingly, the family of mr. kinzie took up their quarters with their friends in the old mansion, which many will still recollect as standing on the northwest corner of jefferson avenue and wayne street. the feelings of indignation and sympathy were constantly aroused in the hearts of the citizens during the winter that ensued. they were almost daily called upon to witness the cruelties practised upon the american prisoners brought in by their indian captors. those who could scarcely drag their wounded, bleeding feet over the frozen ground, were compelled to dance for the amusement of the savages; and these exhibitions sometimes took place before the government house, the residence of colonel mckee. some of the british officers looked on from their windows at these heart-rending performances; for the honor of humanity, we will hope such instances were rare. everything that could be made available among the effects of the citizens was offered, to ransom their countrymen from the hands of these inhuman beings. the prisoners brought in from the river raisin--those unfortunate men who were permitted, after their surrender to general proctor, to be tortured and murdered by inches by his savage allies--excited the sympathies and called for the action of the whole community. private houses were turned into hospitals, and every one was forward to get possession of as many as possible of the survivors. to effect this, even the articles of their apparel were bartered by the ladies of detroit, as they watched from their doors or windows the miserable victims carried about for sale. in the dwelling of mr. kinzie one large room was devoted to the reception of the sufferers. few of them survived. among those spoken of as objects of the deepest interest were two young gentlemen of kentucky, brothers, both severely wounded, and their wounds aggravated to a mortal degree by subsequent ill usage and hardships. their solicitude for each other, and their exhibition in various ways of the most tender fraternal affection, created an impression never to be forgotten. the last bargain made was by black jim, and one of the children, who had permission to redeem a negro servant of the gallant colonel allen, with an old white horse, the only available article that remained among their possessions. a brother of colonel allen afterwards came to detroit, and the negro preferred returning to servitude rather than remaining a stranger in a strange land. mr. kinzie, as has been related, joined his family at detroit in the month of january. a short time after, suspicions arose in the mind of general proctor that he was in correspondence with general harrison, who was now at fort meigs, and who was believed to be meditating an advance upon detroit. lieutenant watson, of the british army, waited upon mr. kinzie one day with an invitation to the quarters of general proctor on the opposite side of the river, saying he wished to speak with him, on business. quite unsuspicious, he complied with the invitation, when to his surprise he was ordered into confinement, and strictly guarded in the house of his former partner, mr. patterson, of sandwich. finding that he did not return to his home, mrs. kinzie informed some of the indian chiefs, his particular friends, who immediately repaired to the head-quarters of the commanding officer, demanded "their friend's" release, and brought him back to his home. after waiting a time until a favorable opportunity presented itself, the general sent a detachment of dragoons to arrest mr. kinzie. they had succeeded in carrying him away, and crossing the river with him. just at this moment a party of friendly indians made their appearance. "where is the shaw-nee-aw-kee?" was the first question. "there," replied his wife, pointing across the river, "in the hands of the red-coats, who are taking him away again." the indians ran to the river, seized some canoes that they found there, and, crossing over to sandwich, compelled general proctor a second time to forego his intentions. a third time this officer made the attempt, and succeeded in arresting mr. kinzie and conveying him heavily ironed to fort malden, in canada, at the mouth of the detroit river. here he was at first treated with great severity, but after a time the rigor of his confinement was somewhat relaxed, and he was permitted to walk on the bank of the river for air and exercise. on the th of september, as he was taking his promenade under the close supervision of a guard of soldiers, the whole party were startled by the sound of guns upon lake erie, at no great distance below. what could it mean? it must be commodore barclay firing into some of the yankees. the firing continued. the time allotted the prisoner for his daily walk expired, but neither he nor his guard observed the lapse of time, so anxiously were they listening to what they now felt sure was an engagement between ships of war. at length mr. kinzie was reminded that the hour for his return to confinement had arrived. he petitioned for another half-hour. "let me stay," said he, "till we can learn how the battle has gone." very soon a sloop appeared under press of sail, rounding the point, and presently two gun-boats in chase of her. "she is running--she bears the british colors," cried he--"yes, yes, they are lowering--she is striking her flag! now," turning to the soldiers, "i will go back to prison contented--i know how the battle has gone." the sloop was the little belt, the last of the squadron captured by the gallant perry on that memorable occasion which he announced in the immortal words: "we have met the enemy, and they are ours!" matters were growing critical, and it was necessary to transfer all prisoners to a place of greater security than the frontier was now likely to be. it was resolved therefore to send mr. kinzie to the mother-country. nothing has ever appeared which would explain the course of general proctor in regard to this gentleman. he had been taken from the bosom of his family, where he was living quietly under the parole which he had received, and protected by the stipulations of the surrender. he was kept for months in confinement. now he was placed on horseback under a strong guard, who announced that they had orders to shoot him through the head if he offered to speak to a person upon the road. he was tied upon the saddle to prevent his escape, and thus they set out for quebec. a little incident occurred, which will help to illustrate the course invariably pursued towards our citizens, at this period, by the british army on the northwestern frontier. the saddle on which mr. kinzie rode had not been properly fastened, and, owing to the rough motion of the animal on which it was, it turned, so as to bring the rider into a most awkward and painful position. his limbs being fastened, he could not disengage himself, and in this manner he was compelled by those who had charge of him to ride until he was nearly exhausted, before they had the humanity to release him. arrived at quebec, he was put on board a small vessel to be sent to england. the vessel when a few days out at sea was chased by an american frigate and driven into halifax. a second time she set sail, when she sprung a leak and was compelled to put back. the attempt to send him across the ocean was now abandoned, and he was returned to quebec. another step, equally inexplicable with his arrest, was soon after taken. this was, his release and that of mr. macomb, of detroit, who was also in confinement in quebec, and the permission given them to return to their friends and families, although the war was not yet ended. it may possibly be imagined that in the treatment these gentlemen received, the british commander-in-chief sheltered himself under the plea of their being "native-born british subjects," and perhaps when it was ascertained that mr. kinzie was indeed a citizen of the united states it was thought safest to release him. in the mean time, general harrison at the head of his troops had reached detroit. he landed on the th of september. all the citizens went forth to meet him--mrs. kinzie, leading her children by the hand, was of the number. the general accompanied her to her home, and took up his abode there. on his arrival he was introduced to kee-po-tah, who happened to be on a visit to the family at that time. the general had seen the chief the preceding year, at the council at vincennes, and the meeting was one of great cordiality and interest. * * * * * in , mr. kinzie and his family again returned to chicago. the fort was rebuilt on a somewhat larger scale than the former one. it was not until the return of the troops that the bones of the unfortunate americans who had been massacred four years before, were collected and buried. an indian agency, under the charge of charles jewett, esq., of kentucky, was established. he was succeeded in by dr. alexander wolcott, of connecticut, who occupied that position until his death in . the troops were removed from the garrison in , but restored in , after the winnebago war. this was a disturbance between the winnebagoes and white settlers on and near the mississippi. after some murders had been committed, the young chief, red bird, was taken and imprisoned at prairie du chien to await his trial, where he committed suicide in consequence of chagrin and the irksomeness of confinement. it was feared that the pottowattamies would make common cause with the winnebagoes, and commence a general system of havoc and bloodshed on the frontier. they were deterred from such a step, probably, by the exertions of billy caldwell, robinson, and shaw-bee-nay, who made an expedition among the rock river bands, to argue and persuade them into remaining tranquil. the few citizens of chicago in those days, lived for the most part a very quiet, unvaried life. the great abundance of game, and the immense fertility of the lands they cultivated, furnished them with a superabundance of all the luxuries of garden, corn-field, and dairy the question was once asked by a friend in the "east countrie," "how do you dispose of all the good things you raise? you have no market?" "no." "and you cannot consume them all yourselves?" "no." "what then do you do with them?" "why, we manage, when a vessel arrives, to persuade the captain to accept a few kegs of butter, and stores of corn and vegetables, as a present, and that helps us to get rid of some of our overplus." the mails arrived, as may be supposed, at very rare intervals. they were brought occasionally from fort clark (peoria), but more frequently from fort wayne, or across the peninsula of michigan, which was still a wilderness peopled with savages. the hardy adventurer who acted as express was, not unfrequently, obliged to imitate the birds of heaven and "lodge among the branches," in order to insure the safety of himself and his charge. visitors were very rare, unless it was a friend who came to sojourn for several months and share a life in the wilderness. a traveller, however, occasionally found his way to the spot, in passing to or from "parts unknown," and such a one was sure of a hospitable and hearty welcome. a gentleman journeying from the southern settlements once arrived late in the evening at wolf point, where was then the small trading-establishment of george hunt and a mr. wallace. he stopped and inquired if he could have accommodation for the night for himself and his horse. the answer was, that they were ill provided to entertain a stranger--the house was small, and they were keeping "bachelor's hall." "is there no place," inquired the traveller, "where i can obtain a lodging?" "oh, yes--you will find a very comfortable house, mr. kinzie's, about half a mile below, near the mouth of the river." the stranger turned his horse's head and took the road indicated. arrived at the spot, his first inquiry was,-- "is this the residence of mr. kinzie?" "yes, sir." "i should be glad to get accommodation for myself and horse." "certainly, sir--walk in." the horse was taken to the stable, while the gentleman was ushered into a parlor where were two ladies. the usual preliminary questions and answers were gone through, for in a new country people soon become acquainted, and the gentleman ere long found himself seated at a comfortable hot supper--we will venture to say a fine supper, since the table in this domestic establishment has always been somewhat famous. apparently, the gentleman enjoyed it, for he made himself quite at home. he even called for a boot-jack after tea, and drew off his boots. the ladies were a little surprised, but they had lived a good while out of the world, and they did not know what changes in etiquette might have taken place during their retirement. before taking his leave for the night, the traveller signified what it would please him to have for breakfast, which was duly prepared. the next day proved stormy. the gentleman was satisfied with his quarters, and, having taken care to ascertain that there was no neglect or deficiency of accommodation so far as his horse was concerned, he got through the day very comfortably. now and then, when he was tired of reading, he would converse with the family, and seemed, upon the whole, by no means disposed to hold himself aloof, but to indulge in a little becoming sociability, seeing they were all there away in the woods. the second day the weather brightened. the traveller signified his intention to depart. he ordered his horse to the door--then he called for his bill. "my house is not a tavern, sir," was the astounding reply. "not a tavern! good heavens! have i been making myself at home in this manner in a private family?" he was profuse in his apologies, which, however, were quite unnecessary, for the family had perceived from the first the mistake he had fallen into, and they had amused themselves during his whole visit in anticipating the consternation of their guest when he should be undeceived. * * * * * it was in the year (the year of the rebuilding of the fort, after its destruction by the indians) that the tract of land on which chicago stands, together with the surrounding country, was ceded to the united states by the pottowattamies. they remained the peaceful occupants of it, however, for twenty years longer. it was not until that they were removed by government to lands appropriated for their use on the upper missouri. in the year the town of chicago was laid out into lots by commissioners appointed by the state. at this time the prices of these lots ranged from ten to sixty dollars. * * * * * mr. kinzie, who, from the geographical position of this place, and the vast fertility of the surrounding country, had always foretold its eventual prosperity and importance, was not permitted to witness the realization of his predictions. he closed his useful and energetic life on the th of january, , having just completed his sixty-fifth year. chapter xxi. a sermon. chicago was not, at the period of my first visit, the cheerful, happy place it had once been. the death of dr. wolcott, of lieutenant furman, and of a promising young son of mr. beaubien, all within a few weeks of each other, had thrown a gloom over the different branches of the social circle. the weather, too, was inclement and stormy beyond anything that had been known before. only twice, during a period of two months, did the sun shine out through the entire day. so late as the second week in april, when my husband had left to return to fort winnebago, the storms were so severe that he and his men were obliged to lie by two or three days in an indian lodge. robert kinzie, medard beaubien, and billy caldwell had gone at the same time to the calumet to hunt, and, as they did not make their appearance for many days, we were persuaded they had perished with cold. they returned at length, however, to our infinite joy, having only escaped freezing by the forethought of robert and caldwell in carrying each two blankets instead of one. our only recreation was an occasional ride on horseback, when the weather would permit, through the woods on the north side of the river, or across the prairie, along the lake shore on the south. when we went in the former direction, a little bridle-path took us along what is now rush street. the thick boughs of the trees arched over our heads, and we were often compelled, as we rode, to break away the projecting branches of the shrubs which impeded our path. the little prairie west of wright's woods was the usual termination of our ride in this direction. when we chose the path across the prairie towards the south, we generally passed a new-comer, dr. harmon, superintending the construction of a _sod fence_, at a spot he had chosen, near the shore of the lake. in this inclosure he occupied himself, as the season advanced, in planting fruit-stones of all descriptions, to make ready a garden and orchard for future enjoyment. we usually stopped to have a little chat. the two favorite themes of the doctor were horticulture, and the certain future importance of chicago. that it was destined to be a great city, was his unalterable conviction; and in deed, by this time, all forest and prairie as it was, we half began to believe it ourselves. on the pleasant afternoons which we occasionally enjoyed as the season advanced, we found no small amusement in practising pistol-firing. the place appropriated to this sport was outside the pickets, the mark being placed on a panel in one of the bastions. the gentlemen must not be offended if i record that, in process of time, the ladies acquired a degree of skill that enabled them, as a general thing, to come off triumphant. one of the ladies, mrs. hunter, was a great shot, having brought down her grouse on the wing, to the no small delight of one of the officers, captain martin scott, of raccoon celebrity. now and then there was a little excitement within the fort, aroused by the discovery that _a settler_ had been engaged in selling milk-punch, instead of milk, to the soldiers, thereby interfering in no small degree with the regularity and perfect discipline of the service. the first step was to "drum out" the offender with all the honors of war--that is, with a party-colored dress, and the rogue's march played behind him. the next, to place all the victims of this piece of deception in the guard-house, where the commanding officer's lady supplied them bountifully with coffee and hot cakes, by way of opening their eyes to the enormity of their offence. it is not to be wondered at that the officers sometimes complained of its being more of a strife with the soldiers who should get into the guard-house, than who should keep out of it. the poor fellows knew when they were well off. once, upon a sunday, we were rowed up to wolf point to attend a religious service, conducted by father see, as he was called. we saw a tall, slender man, dressed in a green frock-coat, from the sleeves of which dangled a pair of hands giving abundant evidence, together with the rest of his dress, that he placed small faith in the axiom--"cleanliness is a part of holiness." he stepped briskly upon a little platform behind a table, and commenced his discourse. his subject was, "the fear of god." "there was a kind of fear," he told us, "that was very nearly a_lee_-a-nated to love: so nearly, that it was not worth while splitting hairs for the difference." he then went on to describe this kind of fear. he grew more and more involved as he proceeded with his description until at length, quite bewildered, he paused, and exclaimed, "come, let's stop a little while, and clear away the brush." he unravelled, as well as he was able, the tangled thread of his ideas, and went on with his subject. but soon, again losing his way, he came to a second halt. "now," said he, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with a red cotton handkerchief many degrees from clean, "now, suppose we drive back a little piece." thus he recapitulated what he wished to impress upon us, of the necessity of cherishing a fear that maketh wise unto salvation, "which fear," said he, "may we all enjoy, that together we may soar away, on the rolling clouds of aether, to a boundless and happy eternity, which is the wish of your humble servant." and, flourishing abroad his hands, with the best of dancing-school bows, he took his seat. it will be readily imagined that we felt our own religious exercises at home to be more edifying than such as this, and that we confined ourselves to them for the future. the return of our brother, robert kinzie, from palestine (not the holy land, but the seat of the land office), with the certificate of the title of the family to that portion of chicago since known as "kinzie's addition," was looked upon as establishing a home for us at some future day, if the glorious dreams of good dr. harmon, and a few others, should come to be realized. one little incident will show how moderate were the anticipations of most persons at that period. the certificate, which was issued in robert's name (he representing the family in making the application), described only a fractional quarter-section of one hundred and two acres, instead of one hundred and sixty acres, the river and lake michigan cutting off fifty-eight acres on the southern and eastern lines of the quarter. the applicants had liberty to select their complement of fifty-eight acres out of any unappropriated land that suited them. "now, my son," said his mother to robert, "lay your claim on the corn-field at wolf point. it is fine land, and will always be valuable for cultivation; besides, as it faces down the main river, the situation will always be a convenient one." the answer was a hearty laugh. "hear mother!" said robert. "we have just got a hundred and two acres--more than we shall ever want, or know what to do with, and now she would have me go and claim fifty-eight acres more!" "take my advice, my boy," repeated his mother, "or you may live one day to regret it." "well, i cannot see how i can ever regret not getting more than we can possibly make use of." and so the matter ended. the fifty-eight acres were never claimed, and there was, i think, a very general impression that asking for our just rights in the case would have a very grasping, covetous look. how much wiser five-and-twenty years have made us! * * * * * during my sojourn of two months at chicago, our mother often entertained me with stories of her early life and adventures. the following is her history of her captivity among the senecas, which i have put in the form of a tale, although without the slightest variation from the facts as i received them from her lips, and those of her sister, mrs. william forsyth, of sandwich (c.w.), the little maggie of the story. chapter xxii. the captives. it is well known that previous to the war of the revolution the whole of the western portion of pennsylvania was inhabited by different indian tribes. of these, the delawares were the friends of the whites, and, after the commencement of the great struggle, took part with the united states. the iroquois, on the contrary, were the friends and allies of the mother-country. very few white settlers had ventured beyond the susquehanna. the numerous roving bands of shawanoes, nanticokes, etc., although at times professing friendship with the americans and acting in concert with the delawares or lenape as allies, at others suffered themselves to be seduced by their neighbors, the iroquois, to show a most sanguinary spirit of hostility. for this reason, the life of the inhabitants of the frontier was one of constant peril and alarm. many a scene of dismal barbarity was enacted, as the history of the times testifies, and even those who felt themselves in some measure protected by their immediate neighbors, the delawares, never lost sight of the caution required by their exposed situation. the vicinity of the military garrison at pittsburg--or fort pitt, as it was then called--gave additional security to those who had pushed farther west, among the fertile valleys of the alleghany and monongahela. among these were the family of mr. lytle, who, some years previous to the opening of our story, had removed from baltimore to path valley, near carlisle, and subsequently settled himself on the banks of plum river, a tributary of the alleghany. here, with his wife and five children, he had continued to live in comfort and security, undisturbed by any hostile visit, and only annoyed by occasional false alarms from his more timorous neighbors, who, having had more experience in frontier life, were prone to anticipate evil, as well as to magnify every appearance of danger. * * * * * on a bright afternoon in the autumn of , two children of mr. lytle, a girl of nine, and her brother, two years younger, were playing in a little dingle or hollow in the rear of their father's house. some large trees, which had been recently felled, were lying here and there, still untrimmed of their branches, and many logs, prepared for fuel, were scattered around. upon one of these the children, wearied with their sports, seated themselves, and to beguile the time they fell into conversation upon a subject that greatly perplexed them. while playing in the same place a few hours previous, they had imagined they saw an indian lurking behind one of the fallen trees. the indians of the neighborhood were in the habit of making occasional visits to the family, and they had become familiar and even affectionate with many of them, but this seemed a stranger, and after the first hasty glance they fled in alarm to the house. their mother chid them for the report they brought, which she endeavored to convince them was without foundation. "you know," said she, "you are always alarming us unnecessarily: the neighbors' children have frightened you to death. go back to your play, and learn to be more courageous." so the children returned to their sports, hardly persuaded by their mother's arguments. while they were thus seated upon the trunk of the tree, their discourse was interrupted by the note, apparently, of a quail not far off. "listen," said the boy, as a second note answered the first; "do you hear that?" "yes," was the reply, and, after a few moments' silence, "do you not hear a rustling among the branches of the tree yonder?" "perhaps it is a squirrel--but look! what is that? surely i saw something red among the branches. it looked like a fawn popping up its head." at this moment, the children, who had been gazing so intently in the direction of the fallen tree that all other objects were forgotten, felt themselves seized from behind and pinioned in an iron grasp. what were their horror and dismay to find themselves in the arms of savages, whose terrific countenances and gestures plainly showed them to be enemies! they made signs to the children to be silent, on pain of death, and hurried them off, half dead with terror, in a direction leading from their father's habitation. after travelling some distance in profound silence, the severity of their captors somewhat relaxed, and as night approached the party halted, after adopting the usual precautions to secure themselves against a surprise. in an agony of uncertainty and terror, torn from their beloved home and parents, and anticipating all the horrors with which the rumors of the times had invested a captivity among the indians--perhaps even a torturing death--the poor children could no longer restrain their grief, but gave vent to sobs and lamentations. their distress appeared to excite the compassion of one of the party, a man of mild aspect, who approached and endeavored to soothe them. he spread them a couch of the long grass which grew near the encamping-place, offered them a portion of his own stock of dried meat and parched corn, and gave them to understand by signs that no farther evil was intended them. these kindly demonstrations were interrupted by the arrival of another party of the enemy, bringing with them the mother of the little prisoners, with her youngest child, an infant of three months old. it had so happened that the father of the family, with his serving-men, had gone early in the day to a _raising_ at a few miles' distance, and the house had thus been left without a defender. the long period of tranquillity which they had enjoyed, free from all molestation or alarm from the savages, had thrown the settlers quite off their guard, and they had recently laid aside some of the caution they had formerly deemed necessary. these indians, by lying in wait, had found the favorable moment for seizing the defenceless family and making them prisoners. judging from their paint, and other marks by which the early settlers learned to distinguish the various tribes, mrs. lytle conjectured that those into whose hands she and her children had fallen were senecas. nor was she mistaken. it was a party of that tribe who had descended from their village with the intention of falling upon some isolated band of their enemies, the delawares, but failing in this, had made themselves amends by capturing a few white settlers. it is to be attributed to the generally mild disposition of this tribe, together with the magnanimous character of the chief who accompanied the party, that their prisoners in the present instance escaped the fate of most of the americans who were so unhappy as to fall into the hands of the iroquois. the children learned from their mother that she was profoundly ignorant of the fate of their remaining brother and sister, a boy of six and a little girl of four years of age, but she was in hopes they had made good their escape with the servant-girl, who had likewise disappeared from the commencement. after remaining a few hours to recruit the exhausted frames of the prisoners, the savages again started on their march, one of the older indians offering to relieve the mother from the burden of her infant, which she had hitherto carried in her arms. pleased with the unexpected kindness, she resigned to him her tender charge. thus they pursued their way, the savage who carried the infant lingering somewhat behind the rest of the party, until, finding a spot convenient for his purpose, he grasped his innocent victim by the feet, and, with one whirl, to add strength to the blow, dashed out its brains against a tree. leaving the body upon the spot, he rejoined the party. the mother, unsuspicious of what had passed, regarded him earnestly as he reappeared without the child--then gazed wildly around on the rest of the group. her beloved little one was not there. its absence spoke its fate; but, suppressing the shriek of agony, for she knew that the lives of the remaining ones depended upon her firmness in that trying hour, she drew them yet closer to her and pursued her melancholy way without a word spoken or a question asked. from the depths of her heart she cried unto him who is able to save, and he comforted her with hopes of deliverance for the surviving ones, for she saw that if blood had been their sole object the scalps of herself and her children would have been taken upon the spot where they were made prisoners. she read too in the eyes of one who was evidently the commander of the party an expression more merciful than she had even dared to hope. particularly had she observed his soothing manner and manifest partiality towards her eldest child, the little girl of whom we have spoken, and she built many a bright hope of escape or ransom upon these slender foundations. after a toilsome and painful march of many days, the party reached the seneca village, upon the head-waters of the alleghany, near what is now called olean point. on their arrival the chief, their conductor, who was distinguished by the name of the _big white man_[ ] led his prisoners to the principal lodge. this was occupied by his mother, the widow of the head-chief of that band, and who was called by them the _old queen_. on entering her presence, her son presented her the little girl, saying,-- "my mother, i bring you a child to supply the place of my brother, who was killed by the lenape six moons ago. she shall dwell in my lodge, and be to me a sister. take the white woman and her children and treat them kindly--our father will give us many horses and guns to buy them back again." he referred to the british indian agent of his tribe, colonel johnson, an excellent and benevolent gentleman, who resided at port niagara, on the british side of the river of that name. the old queen fulfilled the injunctions of her son. she received the prisoners, and every comfort was provided them that her simple and primitive mode of life rendered possible. * * * * * we must now return to the place and period at which our story commences. late in the evening of that day the father returned to his dwelling. all within and around was silent and desolate. no trace of a living creature was to be found throughout the house or grounds. his nearest neighbors lived at a considerable distance, but to them he hastened, frantically demanding tidings of his family. as he aroused them from their slumbers, one and another joined him in the search, and at length, at the house of one of them, was found the servant-maid who had effected her escape. her first place of refuge, she said, had been a large brewing-tub in an outer kitchen, under which she had, at the first alarm, secreted herself until the departure of the indians, who were evidently in haste, gave her an opportunity of fleeing to a place of safety. she could give no tidings of her mistress and the children, except that they had not been murdered in her sight or hearing. at length, having scoured the neighborhood without success, mr. lytle remembered an old settler who lived alone, far up the valley. thither he and his friends immediately repaired, and from him they learned that, being at work in his field just before sunset, he had seen a party of strange indians passing at a short distance from his cabin. as they wound along the brow of the hill, he could perceive that they had prisoners with them--a woman and a child. the woman he knew to be a white, as she carried her infant in her arms, instead of upon her back, after the manner of the savages. day had now begun to break, for the night had been passed in fruitless searches, and the agonized father, after a consultation with his kind friends and neighbors, accepted their offer to accompany him to fort pitt to ask advice and assistance of the commandant and indian agent at that place. proceeding down the valley, as they approached a hut which the night before they had found apparently deserted, they were startled by observing two children standing upon the high bank in front of it. the delighted father recognized two of his missing flock, but no tidings could they give him of their mother and the other lost ones. their story was simple and touching. they were playing in the garden, when they were alarmed by seeing the indians enter the yard near the house. unperceived by them, the brother, who was but six years of age, helped his little sister over the fence into a field overrun with bushes of the blackberry and wild raspberry. they concealed themselves among these for awhile, and then, finding all quiet, they attempted to force their way to the side of the field farthest from the house. unfortunately, the little girl in her play in the garden had pulled off her shoes and stockings, and the briers tearing and wounding her tender feet, she with difficulty could refrain from crying out. her brother took off his stockings and put them on her feet. he attempted, too, to protect them with his shoes, but they were too large, and kept slipping off, so that she could not wear them. for a time, they persevered in making what they considered their escape from certain death, for, as i have said, the children had been taught, by the tales they had heard, to regard all strange indians as ministers of torture, and of horrors worse than death. exhausted with pain and fatigue, the poor little girl at length declared she could go no farther. "then, maggie," said her brother, "i must kill you, for i cannot let you be killed by the indians." "oh, no, thomas!" pleaded she, "do not, pray do not kill me! i do not think the indians will find us." "oh, yes, they will, maggie, and i could kill you so much easier than they would.'" for a long time he endeavored to persuade her, and even looked about for a stick sufficiently large for his purpose; but despair gave the little creature strength, and she promised her brother that she would neither complain nor falter, if he would assist her in making her way out of the field. the idea of the little boy that he could save his sister from savage barbarity by taking her life himself, shows what tales of horror the children of the early settlers were familiar with. after a few more efforts, they made their way out of the field, into an uninclosed pasture-ground, where, to their great delight, they saw some cows feeding. they recognized them as belonging to granny myers, an old woman who lived at some little distance, but in what direction from the place they then were, they were utterly ignorant. with a sagacity beyond his years, the boy said,-- "let us hide ourselves till sunset, when the cows will go home, and we will follow them." they did so, but, to their dismay, when they reached granny myers's they found the house deserted. the old woman had been called by some business down the valley, and did not return that night. tired and hungry, they could go no farther, but, after an almost fruitless endeavor to get some milk from the cows, they laid themselves down to sleep under an old bedstead that stood behind the house. their father and his party had caused them additional terror in the night. the shouts and calls which had been designed to arouse the inmates of the house, they had mistaken for the whoop of the indians, and, not being able to distinguish friends from foes, they had crept close to one another, as far out of sight as possible. when found the following morning, they were debating what course to take next, for safety. the commandant at fort pitt entered warmly into the affairs of mr. lytle, and readily furnished him with a detachment of soldiers, to aid him and his friends in the pursuit of the marauders. some circumstances having occurred to throw suspicion upon the senecas, the party soon directed their search among the villages of that tribe. their inquiries were prosecuted in various directions, and always with great caution, for all the tribes of the iroquois, or, as they pompously called themselves, the five nations, being allies of great britain, were inveterate in their hostility to the americans. thus, some time elapsed before the father with his attendants reached the village of the _big white man_. a treaty was immediately entered into for the ransom of the captives, which was easily accomplished in regard to mrs. lytle and the younger child. but no offers, no entreaties, no promises, could procure the release of the little eleanor, the adopted child of the tribe. "no," the chief said, "she was his sister; he had taken her to supply the place of his brother who was killed by the enemy--she was dear to him, and he would not part with her." finding every effort unavailing to shake this resolution, the father was compelled to take his sorrowful departure with such of his beloved ones as he had had the good fortune to recover. we will not attempt to depict the grief of parents compelled thus to give up a darling child, and to leave her in the hands of savages, whom until now they had too much reason to regard as merciless. but there was no alternative. commending her to the care of their heavenly father, and cheered by the manifest tenderness with which she had thus far been treated, they set out on their melancholy journey homeward, trusting that some future effort would be more effectual for the recovery of their little girl. having placed his family in safety at pittsburg, mr. lytle, still assisted by the commandant and the indian agent, undertook an expedition to the frontier to the residence of the british agent, colonel johnson. his representation of the case warmly interested the feelings of that benevolent officer, who promised him to spare no exertions in his behalf. this promise he religiously performed. he went in person to the village of the big white man, as soon as the opening of the spring permitted, and offered him many splendid presents of guns and horses, but the chief was inexorable. time rolled on, and every year the hope of recovering the little captive became more faint. she, in the mean time, continued to wind herself more and more closely around the heart of her indian brother. nothing could exceed the consideration and affection with which she was treated, not only by himself, but by his mother, the _old queen_. all their stock of brooches and wampum was employed in the decoration of her person. the principal seat and the most delicate viands were invariably reserved for her, and no efforts were spared to promote her happiness, and to render her forgetful of her former home and kindred. thus, though she had beheld, with a feeling almost amounting to despair, the departure of her parents and dear little brother, and had for a long time resisted every attempt at consolation, preferring even death to a life of separation from all she loved, yet time, as it ever does, brought its soothing balm, and she at length grew contented and happy. from her activity and the energy of her character, qualities for which she was remarkable to the latest period of her life, the name was given her of _the ship under full sail_. * * * * * the only drawback to the happiness of the little prisoner, aside from her longings after her own dear home, was the enmity she encountered from the wife of the big white man. this woman, from the day of her arrival at the village, and adoption into the family as a sister, had conceived for her the greatest animosity, which, at first, she had the prudence to conceal from the observation of her husband. it was perhaps natural that a wife should give way to some feelings of jealousy at seeing her own place in the heart of her husband usurped by the child of their enemy, the american. but these feelings were aggravated by a bad and vindictive temper, and by the indifference with which her husband listened to her complaints and murmurings. as she had no children of her own to engage her attention, her mind was the more engrossed and inflamed with her fancied wrongs, and with devising means for their redress. an opportunity of attempting the latter was not long wanting. during the absence of the big white man upon some war-party or hunting-excursion, his little sister was taken ill with fever and ague. she was nursed with the utmost tenderness by the old queen; and the wife of the chief, to lull suspicion, and thereby accomplish her purpose, was likewise unwearied in her assiduities to the little favorite. one afternoon, during the temporary absence of the old queen, her daughter-in-law entered the lodge with a bowl of something she had prepared, and, stooping down to the mat on which the child lay, said, in an affectionate accent,-- "drink, my sister, i have brought you that which will drive this fever far from you." on raising her head to reply, the little girl perceived a pair of eyes peeping through a crevice in the lodge, and fixed upon her with a very peculiar and significant expression. with the quick perception acquired partly from nature and partly from her intercourse with this people, she replied, faintly,-- "set it down, my sister. when this fit of the fever has passed, i will drink your medicine." the squaw, too cautious to use importunity, busied herself about in the lodge for a short time, then withdrew to another, near at hand. meantime, the bright eyes continued peering through the opening, until they had watched their object fairly out of sight; then a low voice, the voice of a young friend and playfellow, spoke: "do not drink that which your brother's wife has brought you. she hates you, and is only waiting an opportunity to rid herself of you. i have watched her all the morning, and have seen her gathering the most deadly roots and herbs. i knew for whom they were intended, and came hither to warn you." "take the bowl," said the little invalid, "and carry it to my mother's lodge." this was accordingly done. the contents of the bowl were found to consist principally of a decoction of the root of the may-apple, the most deadly poison known among the indians. it is not in the power of language to describe the indignation that pervaded the little community when this discovery was made known. the squaws ran to and fro, as is their custom when excited, each vying with the other in heaping invectives upon the culprit. no further punishment was, however, for the present inflicted upon her, but, the first burst of rage over, she was treated with silent abhorrence. the little patient was removed to the lodge of the old queen, and strictly guarded, while her enemy was left to wander in silence and solitude about the fields and woods, until the return of her husband should determine her punishment. in a few days, the excursion being over, the big white man and his party returned to the village. contrary to the usual custom of savages, he did not, in his first transport at learning the attempt on the life of his little sister, take summary vengeance on the offender. he contented himself with banishing her from his lodge, never to return, and condemning her to hoe corn in a distant part of the large field or inclosure which served the whole community for a garden. although she would still show her vindictive disposition whenever, by chance, the little girl with her companions wandered into that vicinity, by striking at her with her hoe, or by some other spiteful manifestation, yet she was either too well watched, or stood too much in awe of her former husband, to repeat the attempt upon his sister's life. * * * * * four years had now elapsed since the capture of little nelly. her heart was by nature warm and affectionate, so that the unbounded tenderness of those she dwelt among had called forth a corresponding feeling in her heart. she regarded the chief and his mother with love and reverence, and had so completely learned their language and customs as almost to have forgotten her own. so identified had she become with the tribe, that the remembrance of her home and family had nearly faded from her memory; all but her mother--her mother, whom she had loved with a strength of affection natural to her warm and ardent character, and to whom her heart still clung with a fondness that no time or change could destroy. the peace of between great britain and the united states now took place. a general pacification of the indian tribes was the consequence, and fresh hopes were renewed in the bosoms of mr. and mrs. lytle. they removed with their family to fort niagara, near which, on the american side, was the great _council-fire_ of the senecas. colonel johnson readily undertook a fresh negotiation with the chief, but, in order to make sure every chance of success, he again proceeded in person to the village of the big white man. his visit was most opportune. it was the "feast of the green corn," when he arrived among them. this observance, which corresponds so strikingly with the jewish feast of tabernacles that, together with other customs, it has led many to believe the indian nations the descendants of the lost ten tribes of israel, made it a season of general joy and festivity. all other occupations were suspended to give place to social enjoyment in the open air or in arbors formed of the green branches of the trees. every one appeared in his gala-dress. that of the little adopted child consisted of a petticoat of blue broadcloth, bordered with gay-colored ribbons; a sack or upper garment of black silk, ornamented with three rows of silver brooches, the centre ones from the throat to the hem being of large size, and those from the shoulders down being no larger than a shilling-piece, and set as closely as possible. around her neck were innumerable strings of white and purple wampum--an indian ornament manufactured from the inner surface of the muscle-shell. her hair was clubbed behind and loaded with beads of various colors. leggings of scarlet cloth, and moccasins of deer-skin embroidered with porcupine-quills, completed her costume. colonel johnson was received with all the consideration due to his position, and to the long friendship that had subsisted between him and the tribe. observing that the hilarity of the festival had warmed and opened all hearts, he took occasion in an interview with the chief to expatiate upon the parental affection which had led the father and mother of his little sister to give up their friends and home, and come hundreds of miles away, in the single hope of sometimes looking upon and embracing her. the heart of the chief softened as he listened to this representation, and he was induced to promise that at the grand council soon to be held at fort niagara, on the british side of the river, he would attend, bringing his little sister with him. he exacted a promise, however, from colonel johnson, that not only no effort should be made to reclaim the child, but that even no proposition to part with her should be offered him. the time at length arrived when, her heart bounding with joy, little nelly was placed on horseback to accompany her indian brother to the great council of the senecas. she had promised him that she would never leave him without his permission, and he relied confidently on her word thus given. as the chiefs and warriors arrived in successive bands to meet their father, the agent, at the council-fire, how did the anxious hearts of the parents beat with alternate hope and fear! the officers of the fort had kindly given them quarters for the time being, and the ladies, whose sympathies were strongly excited, had accompanied the mother to the place of council, and joined in her longing watch for the first appearance of the band from the alleghany river. at length they were discerned, emerging from the forest on the opposite or american side. boats were sent across by the commanding officer, to bring the chief and his party. the father and mother, attended by all the officers and ladies, stood upon the grassy bank awaiting their approach. they had seen at a glance that the _little captive_ was with them. when about to enter the boat, the chief said to some of his young men, "stand here with the horses, and wait until i return." he was told that the horses should be ferried across and taken care of. "no," said he; "let them wait." he held his darling by the hand until the river was passed--until the boat touched the bank--until the child sprang forward into the arms of the mother from whom she had been so long separated. when the chief witnessed that outburst of affection, he could withstand no longer. "she shall go," said he. "the mother must have her child again. i will go back alone." with one silent gesture of farewell he turned and stepped on board the boat. no arguments or entreaties could induce him to remain at the council, but, having gained the other side of the niagara, he mounted his horse, and with his young men was soon lost in the depths of the forest. after a sojourn of a few weeks at niagara, mr. lytle, dreading lest the resolution of the big white man should give way, and measures be taken to deprive him once more of his child, came to the determination of again changing his place of abode. he therefore took the first opportunity of crossing lake erie with his family, and settled himself in the neighborhood of detroit, where he continued afterwards to reside. _little nelly_ saw her friend the chief no more, but she never forgot him. to the day of her death she remembered with tenderness and gratitude her brother the big white man, and her friends and playfellows among the senecas. chapter xxiii. second-sight--hickory creek. at the age of fourteen the heroine of the foregoing story married colonel mckillip, a british officer. this gentleman was killed near fort defiance, as it was afterwards called, at the miami rapids, in . a detachment of british troops had been sent down from detroit to take possession of this post. general wayne was then on a campaign against the indians, and the british government thought proper to make a few demonstrations in behalf of their allies. having gone out with a party to reconnoitre, colonel mckillip was returning to his post after dark, when he was fired upon and killed by one of his own sentinels. mrs. helm was the daughter of this marriage. during the widowhood of mrs. mckillip, she resided with her parents, at grosse pointe, eight miles above detroit, and it was during this period that an event occurred which, from the melancholy and mysterious circumstances attending it, was always dwelt upon by her with peculiar interest. her second brother, thomas lytle, was, from his amiable and affectionate character, the most dearly beloved by her of all the numerous family circle. he was paying his addresses to a young lady who resided at the river trench,[ ] as it was then called, now the river thames, a stream emptying into lake st. clair about twenty miles above detroit. in visiting this young lady, it was his custom to cross the detroit river by the ferry with his horse, and then proceed by land to the river trench, which was, at some seasons of the year, a fordable stream. on a fine forenoon, late in the spring, he had taken leave of his mother and sister for one of these periodical visits, which were usually of two or three days' duration. after dinner, as his sister was sitting at work by an open window which looked upon a little side inclosure filled with fruit-trees, she was startled by observing some object opposite the window, between her and the light. she raised her eyes and saw her brother thomas. he was without his horse, and carried his saddle upon his shoulders. surprised that she had not heard the gate opening for his entrance, and also at his singular appearance, laden in that manner, she addressed him, and inquired what had happened, and why he had returned so soon. he made her no reply, but looked earnestly in her face, as he moved slowly along the paved walk that led to the stables. she waited a few moments, expecting he would reappear to give an account of himself and his adventures, but at length, growing impatient at his delay, she put down her work and went towards the rear of the house to find him. the first person she met was her mother. "have you seen thomas?" she inquired. "thomas! he has gone to the river trench." "no, he has returned--i saw him pass the window not fifteen minutes since." "then he will be in presently." his sister, however, could not wait. she proceeded to the stables, she searched in all directions. no thomas--no horse--no saddle. she made inquiry of the domestics. no one had seen him. she then returned and told her mother what had happened. "you must have fallen asleep and dreamed it," said her mother. "no, indeed! i was wide awake--i spoke to him, and he gave me no answer, but such a look!" all the afternoon she felt an uneasiness she could not reason herself out of. the next morning came a messenger from the river trench with dismal tidings. the bodies of the young man and his horse had been found drowned a short distance below the ford of the river. it appeared that, on arriving at the bank of the river, he found it swollen beyond its usual depth by the recent rains. it being necessary to swim the stream with his horse, he had taken off his clothes and made them into a packet which he fastened upon his shoulders. it was supposed that the strength of the rapid torrent displaced the bundle, which thus served to draw his head under water and keep it there, without the power of raising it. all this was gathered from the position and appearance of the bodies when found. from the time at which he had been seen passing a house which stood near the stream, on his way to the ford, it was evident that he must have met his fate at the very moment his sister saw, or thought she saw him, passing before her. i could not but suggest the inquiry, when these sad particulars were narrated to me,-- "mother, is it not possible this might have been a dream?" "a dream? no, indeed, my child. i was perfectly wide awake--as much so as i am at this moment. i am not superstitious. i have never believed in ghosts or witches, but nothing can ever persuade me that this was not a warning sent from god, to prepare me for my brother's death." and those who knew her rational good sense--her freedom from fancies or fears, and the calm self-possession that never deserted her under the most trying circumstances--would almost be won to view the matter in the light she did. * * * * * the order for the evacuation of port dearborn, and the removal of the troops to fort howard (green bay), had now been received. the family circle was to be broken up. our mother, our sister mrs. helm, and her little son, were to return with us to fort winnebago; the other members of the family, except robert, were to move with the command to green bay. the schooner napoleon was to be sent from detroit to convey the troops with their goods and chattels to their destined post. our immediate party was to make the journey by land--we were to choose, however, a shorter and pleasanter route than the one we had taken in coming hither. my husband, with his frenchmen, petaille grignon and simon lecuyer, had arrived, and all hands were now busily occupied with the necessary preparations for breaking up and removal. i should be doing injustice to the hospitable settlers of hickory creek were i to pass by without notice an entertainment with which they honored our chicago beaux about this time. the merry-making was to be a ball, and the five single gentlemen of chicago were invited. mr. dole, who was a new-comer, declined; lieutenant foster was on duty, but he did what was still better than accepting the invitation, he loaned his beautiful horse to medard beaubien, who with robert kinzie and gholson kercheval promised himself much fun in eclipsing the beaux and creating a sensation among the belles of hickory creek. chicago was then, as now, looked upon as the city _par excellence_. its few inhabitants were supposed to have seen something of the world, and it is to be inferred that the arrival of the smart and dashing young men was an event looked forward to with more satisfaction by the fair of the little settlement than by the swains whose rivals they might become. the day arrived, and the gentlemen set off in high spirits. they took care to be in good season, for the dancing was to commence at two o'clock in the afternoon. they were well mounted, each priding himself upon the animal he rode, and they wore their best suits, as became city gallants who were bent on cutting out their less fashionable neighbors and breaking the hearts of the admiring country damsels. when they arrived at the place appointed, they were received with great politeness--their steeds were taken care of, and a dinner was provided them, after which they were ushered into the dancing-hall. all the beauty of the neighboring precincts was assembled. the ladies were for the most part white, or what passed for such, with an occasional dash of copper color. there was no lack of bombazet gowns and large white pocket-handkerchiefs, perfumed with oil of cinnamon; and as they took their places in long rows on the puncheon floor, they were a merry and a happy company. but the city gentlemen grew more and more gallant--the girls more and more delighted with their attentions--the country swains, alas! more and more scowling and jealous. in vain they pigeon-winged and double-shuffled--in vain they nearly dislocated hips and shoulders at "hoe corn and dig potatoes"--they had the mortification to perceive that the smart young sprigs from chicago had their "pick and choose" among their very sweethearts, and that they themselves were fairly danced off the ground. the revelry lasted until daylight, and it was now time to think of returning. there was no one ready with obliging politeness to bring them their horses from the stable. "poor fellows!" said one of the party, with a compassionate sort of laugh, "they could not stand it. they have gone home to bed!" "serves them right," said another; "they'd better not ask us down among their girls again!" they groped their way to the stable and went in. there were some animals standing at the manger, but evidently not their horses. what could they be? had the rogues been trying to cheat them, by putting these strange nondescripts into their place? they led them forth into the gray of the morning, and then--such a trio as met their gaze! there were the original bodies, it is true, but where were their manes and tails? a scrubby, pickety ridge along the neck, and a bare stump projecting behind, were all that remained of the flowing honors with which they had come gallivanting down to "bear away the bell" at hickory creek, or, in the emphatic language of the country, "to take the rag off the bush." gholson sat down on a log and cried outright. medard took the matter more philosophically--the horse was none of his--it was lieutenant foster's. robert characteristically looked around to see whom he could knock down on the occasion; but there was no one visible on whom to wreak their vengeance. the bumpkins had stolen away, and, in some safe, quiet nook, were snugly enjoying their triumph, and doubtless the deceitful fair ones were by this time at their sides, sharing their mirth and exultation. the unlucky gallants mounted their steeds, and set their faces homeward. never was there a more crestfallen and sorry-looking cavalcade. the poor horses seemed to realize that they had met the same treatment as the messengers of king david at the hands of the evil-disposed hanun. they hung their heads, and evidently wished that they could have "tarried at jericho" for a season. unfortunately, there was in those days no back way by which they could steal in, unobserved. across the prairie, in view of the whole community, must their approach be made; and to add to their confusion, in the rarity of stirring events, it was the custom of the whole settlement to turn out and welcome the arrival of any new-comer. as hasty a retreat as possible was beaten, amid the shouts, the jeers, and the condolences of their acquaintances; and it is on record that these three young gentlemen were in no hurry to accept, at any future time, an invitation to partake of the festivities of hickory creek. * * * * * in due time the napoleon made her appearance. (alas that this great name should be used in the feminine gender!) as there was at this period no harbor, vessels anchored outside the bar, or tongue of land which formed the left bank of the river, and the lading and unlading were carried on by boats, pulling in and out, through the mouth of the river, some distance below. of course it always was a matter of great importance to get a vessel loaded as quickly as possible, that she might be ready to take advantage of the first fair wind, and be off from such an exposed and hazardous anchoring-ground. for this reason we had lived _packed up_ for many days, intending only to see our friends safe on board, and then commence our own journey back to fort winnebago. our heavy articles of furniture, trunks, etc. had been sent on board the napoleon, to be brought round to us by way of fox river. we had retained only such few necessaries as could be conveniently carried on a pack-horse, and in a light dearborn wagon lately brought by mr. kercheval from detroit (the first luxury of the kind ever seen on the prairies), and which my husband had purchased as an agreeable mode of conveyance for his mother and little nephew. it was a matter requiring no small amount of time and labor to transport, in the slow method described, the effects of so many families of officers and soldiers, with the various etceteras incident to a total change and removal. it was all, however, happily accomplished--everything, even to the last article, sent on board--nothing remaining on shore but the passengers, whose turn it would be next. it was a moment of great relief; for captain hinckley had been in a fever and a fuss many hours, predicting a change of weather, and murmuring at what he thought the unnecessary amount of boat-loads to be taken on board. those who had leisure to be looking out towards the schooner, which had continued anchored about half a mile out in the lake, had, at this crisis, the satisfaction to see her hoist sail and leave her station for the open lake; those who were a little later could just discern her bearing away to a distance, as if she had got all on board that she had any idea of taking. here we were, and here we might remain a week or more, if it so pleased captain hinckley and the schooner napoleon, and the good east wind which was blowing with all its might. there was plenty of provisions to be obtained, so the fear of starvation was not the trouble; but how were the cooking and the table to be provided for? various expedients were resorted to. mrs. engle, in her quarters above-stairs, ate her breakfast off a shingle with her husband's jack-knife, and when she had finished, sent them down to lieutenant foster for his accommodation. we were at the old mansion on the north side, and the news soon flew up the river that the napoleon had gone off with "the plunder" and left the people behind. it was not long before we were supplied by mrs. portier (our kind victoire) with dishes, knives, forks, and all the other conveniences which our mess-basket failed to supply. this state of things lasted a couple of days, and then, early one fine morning, the gratifying intelligence spread like wild-fire that the napoleon was at anchor out beyond the bar. there was no unnecessary delay this time, and at an early hour in the afternoon we had taken leave of our dear friends, and they were sailing away from chicago.[ ] chapter xxiv. return to fort winnebago. a great part of the command, with the cattle belonging to the officers and soldiers, had, a day or two previous to the time of our departure, set out on their march by land to green bay, _via_ fort winnebago. lieutenant foster, under whose charge they were, had lingered behind that he might have the pleasure of joining our party, and we, in turn, had delayed in order to see the other members of our family safely on board the napoleon. but now, all things being ready, we set our faces once more homeward. we took with us a little _bound-girl,_ josette, a bright, pretty child of ten years of age, a daughter of ouilmette, a frenchman who had lived here at the time of the massacre, and of a pottowattamie mother. she had been at the st. joseph's mission-school, under mr. mccoy, and she was now full of delight at the prospect of a journey all the way to the portage with monsieur and madame john. we had also a negro boy, harry, brought a year before from kentucky, by mr. kercheval. in the transfer at that time from a slave state to a free one, harry's position became somewhat changed--he could be no more than an indentured servant. he was about to become a member of dr. wolcott's household, and it was necessary for him to choose a guardian. all this was explained to him on his being brought into the parlor, where the family were assembled. my husband was then a young man, on a visit to his home. "now, harry," it was said to him, "you must choose your guardian;" and the natural expectation was that harry would select the person of his acquaintance of the greatest age and dignity. but, rolling round his great eyes, and hanging his head on one side, he said,-- "i'll have master john for my guardian." from that day forward harry felt as if he belonged, in a measure, to master john, and at the breaking-up of the family in chicago he was, naturally, transferred to our establishment. there were three ladies of our travelling party--our mother, our sister mrs. helm, and myself. to guard against the burning effect of the sun and the prairie winds upon our faces, i had, during some of the last days of my visit, prepared for each of us a mask of brown linen, with the eyes, nose, and mouth fitted to our features; and, to enhance their hideousness, i had worked eyebrows, eyelashes, and a circle around the opening for the mouth, in black silk. gathered in plaits under the chin, and with strings to confine them above and below, they furnished a complete protection against the sun and wind, though nothing can be imagined more frightful than the appearance we presented when fully equipped. it was who should be called the ugliest. we left amid the good wishes and laughter of our few remaining acquaintances. our wagon had been provided with a pair of excellent travelling horses, and, sister margaret and myself being accommodated with the best pacers the country could afford, we set off in high spirits towards the aux plaines--our old friend, billy caldwell (the sau-ga-nash), with our brother robert, and gholson kercheval, accompanying us to that point of our journey. there was no one at barney lawton's when we reached there, save a frenchman and a small number of indians. my sister and i dismounted, and entered the dwelling, the door of which stood open. two indians were seated on the floor, smoking. they raised their eyes as we appeared, and never shall i forget the expression of wonder and horror depicted on the countenances of both. their lips relaxed until the pipe of one fell upon the floor. their eyes seemed starting from their heads, and raising their outspread hands, as if to wave us from them, they slowly ejaculated, "_manitou!"_ (a spirit.) as we raised our masks, and, smiling, came forward to shake hands with them, they sprang to their feet and fairly uttered a cry of delight at the sight of our familiar faces. "bon-jour, bon-jour, maman!" was their salutation, and they instantly plunged out of doors to relate to their companions what had happened. our afternoon's ride was over a prairie stretching away to the northeast no living creature was to be seen upon its broad expanse, but flying and circling over our heads were innumerable flocks of curlews, "screaming their wild notes to the listening waste." their peculiar, shrill cry of "crack, crack, crack--rackety, rackety, rackety," repeated from the throats of dozens, as they sometimes stooped quite close to our ears, became at length almost unbearable. it seemed as if they had lost their senses in the excitement of so unusual and splendid a cortége in their hitherto desolate domain. the accelerated pace of our horses, as we approached a beautiful, wooded knoll, warned us that this was to be our place of repose for the night. these animals seem to know by instinct a favorable encamping-ground, and this was one of the most lovely imaginable. the trees, which near the lake had, owing to the coldness and tardiness of the season, presented the pale-yellow appearance of unfledged goslings, were here bursting into full leaf. the ground around was carpeted with flowers--we could not bear to have them crushed by the felling of a tree and the pitching of our tent among them. the birds sent forth their sweetest notes in the warm, lingering sunlight, and the opening buds of the young hickory and sassafras filled the air with perfume. nothing could be more perfect than our enjoyment of this sylvan and beautiful retreat[ ] after our ride in the glowing sun. the children were in ecstasies. they delighted to find ways of making themselves useful--to pile up the saddles--to break boughs for the fire--to fill the little kettles with water for petaille and lecuyer, the frenchmen, who were preparing our supper. their amusement at the awkward movements of the horses after they were spancelled knew no bounds. to our little nephew edwin everything was new, and josette, who had already made more than one horseback journey to st. joseph, manifested all the pride of an old traveller in explaining to him whatever was novel or unaccountable. they were not the last to spring up at the call "how! how!" on the following morning. the fire was replenished, the preparations for breakfast commenced, and the frenchmen dispatched to bring up the horses in readiness for an early start. harry and josette played their parts, under our direction, in preparing the simple meal, and we soon seated ourselves, each with cup and knife, around the _table-mat._ the meal was over, but no men, no horses appeared. when another half-hour had passed, my husband took harry and commenced exploring in search of the missing ones. the day wore on, and first one and then another would make his appearance to report progress. petaille and lecuyer at length brought two of the horses, but the others could nowhere be found. in time, mr. kinzie and harry returned, wet to their knees by the dew upon the long prairie-grass, but with no tidings. again the men were dispatched after having broken their fast, but returned unsuccessful as before. the morning had been passed by our party at the encampment in speculating upon the missing animals. could they have been stolen by the indians? hardly: these people seldom committed robberies in time of peace--never upon our family, whom they regarded as their best friends. the horses would doubtless be found. they had probably been carelessly fastened the preceding evening, and had therefore been able to stray farther than was their wont. a council was held, at which it was decided to send grignon back to chicago to get some fresh horses from gholson kercheval, and return as speedily as possible. if on his return our encampment were deserted, he might conclude we had found the horses and proceeded to fox river, where he would doubtless overtake us. he had not been gone more than an hour before, slowly hopping out of a point of woods to the north of us (a spot which each of the seekers averred he had explored over and over again), and making directly for the place where we were, appeared the vexatious animals. they came up as demurely as if nothing had happened, and seemed rather surprised to be received with a hearty scolding, instead of being patted and caressed as usual. it was the work of a very short half-hour to strike and pack the tent, stow away the mats and kettles, saddle the horses, and mount for our journey. "whoever pleases may take my place in the carriage," said our mother. "i have travelled so many years on horseback, that i find any other mode of conveyance too fatiguing." so, spite of her sixty years, she mounted sister margaret's pacer with the activity of a girl of sixteen. lieutenant foster had left us early in the morning, feeling it necessary to rejoin his command, and now, having seen us ready to set off, with a serene sky above us, and all things "right and tight" for the journey, our friend the sau-ga-nash took leave of us, and retraced his steps towards chicago. we pursued our way through a lovely country of alternate glade and forest, until we reached the fox river. the current ran clear and rippling along, and, as we descended the steep bank to the water, the question, so natural to a traveller in an unknown region, presented itself, "is it fordable?" petaille, to whom the ground was familiar, had not yet made his appearance lecuyer was quite ignorant upon the subject. the troops had evidently preceded us by this very trail. true, but they were on horseback--the difficulty was, could we get the carriage through? it must be remembered that the doubt was not about the depth of the water, but about the hardness of the bottom of the stream. it was agreed that two or three of the equestrians should make the trial first. my mother, lecuyer, and myself advanced cautiously across to the opposite bank, each choosing a different point for leaving the water, in order to find the firmest spot. the bottom was hard and firm until we came near the shore; then it yielded a little. with one step, however, we were each on dry ground. "est-il beau?" called my husband, who was driving. "oui, monsieur." "yes, john, come just here, it is perfectly good." "no, no--go a little farther down. see the white gravel just there--it will be firmer still, there." such were the contradictory directions given. he chose the latter, and when it wanted but one step more to the bank, down sunk both horses, until little more than their backs were visible. the white gravel proved to be a bed of treacherous yellow clay, which, gleaming through the water, had caused so unfortunate a deception. with frantic struggles, for they were nearly suffocated with mud and water, the horses made desperate efforts to free themselves from the harness. my husband sprang out upon the pole. "some one give me a knife," he cried. i was back in the water in a moment, and, approaching as near as i dared, handed him mine from the scabbard around my neck. "whatever you do, do not cut the traces," cried his mother. he severed some of the side-straps, when, just as he had reached the extremity of the pole, and was stretching forward to separate the head-couplings, one of the horses gave a furious plunge, which caused his fellow to rear, and throw himself nearly backwards. my husband was between them. for a moment we thought he was gone--trampled down by the excited animals; but he presently showed himself, nearly obscured by the mud and water. with the agility of a cat, harry, who was near him, now sprang forward on the pole, and in an instant, with his sharp jack-knife which he had ready, divided the straps that confined their heads. the horses were at this moment lying floating on the water--one apparently dead, the other as if gasping out his last breath. but hardly did they become sensible of the release of their heads from bondage, than they made, simultaneously, another furious effort to free themselves from the pole, to which they were still attached by the neck-strap. failing in this, they tried another expedient, and, by a few judicious twists and turns, succeeded in wrenching the pole asunder, and finally carried it off in triumph across the river again, and up the bank, where they stood waiting to decide what were the next steps to be taken. here was a predicament! a few hours before, we had thought ourselves uncomfortable enough, because some of our horses were missing. now, a greater evil had befallen us. the wagon was in the river, the harness cut to pieces, and, what was worse, carried off in the most independent manner, by tom and his companion; the pole was twisted to fragments, and there was not so much as a stick on our side of the river with which to replace it. at this moment, a whoop from the opposite bank, echoed by two or three hearty ones from our party, announced the reappearance of petaille grignon. he dismounted and took charge of the horses, who were resting themselves after their fatigues under a shady tree, and by this time lecuyer had crossed the river, and now joined him in bringing back the delinquents. in the mean time we had been doing our best to minister to our sister margaret. she, with her little son edwin, had been in the wagon at the time of the accident, and it had been a work of some difficulty to get them out and bring them on horseback to shore. the effect of the agitation and excitement was to throw her into a fit of the ague, and she now lay blue and trembling among the long grass of the little prairie which extended along the bank. the tent, which had been packed in the rear of the wagon, was too much saturated with mud and water to admit of its being used as a shelter; it could only be stretched in the sun to dry. we opened an umbrella over our poor sister's head, and now began a discussion of ways and means to repair damages. the first thing was to cut a new pole for the wagon, and for this, the master and men must recross the river and choose an _iron-tree_ out of the forest. then, for the harness. with provident care, a little box had been placed under the seat of the wagon, containing an awl, waxed ends, and various other little conveniences exactly suited to an emergency like the present. it was question and answer, like cock robin: "who can mend the harness?" "i can, for i learned when i was a young girl to make shoes as _an accomplishment_, and i can surely now, as a matter of usefulness and duty, put all those wet, dirty pieces of leather together." so we all seated ourselves on the grass, under the shade of the only two umbrellas we could muster. i stitched away diligently, blistering my hands, i must own, in no small degree. a suitable young tree had been brought, and the hatchets, without which one never travels in the woods, were busy fashioning it into shape, when a peculiar hissing noise was heard, and instantly the cry,-- "_un serpent sonnette_! a rattlesnake!" all sprang to their feet, even the poor, shaking invalid, just in time to see the reptile glide past within three inches of my mother's feet, while the men assailed the spot it had left with whips, missiles, and whatever would help along the commotion. this little incident proved an excellent remedy for the ague. one excitement drives away another, and by means of this (upon the homoeopathic principle) sister margaret was so much improved that by the time all the mischiefs were repaired, she was ready to take her place in the cavalcade, as bright and cheerful as the rest of us. so great had been the delay occasioned by all these untoward circumstances, that our afternoon's ride was but a short one, bringing us no farther than the shores of a beautiful sheet of water, now known as crystal lake. its clear surface was covered with loons, and _poules d'eau_, a species of rail; with which, at certain seasons, this region abounds. the indians have the genius of aesop for depicting animal life and character, and there is among them a fable or legend illustrative of every peculiarity in the personal appearance, habits, or dispositions of each variety of the animal creation. the back of the little rail is very concave, or hollow. the indians tell us that it became so in the following manner:-- story of the little rail, or _poule d'eau_ there is supposed, by most of the northwestern tribes, to exist an invisible being, corresponding to the "genie" of oriental story. without being exactly the father of evil, _nan-nee-bo-zho_ is a spirit whose office it is to punish what is amiss. he is represented, too, as constantly occupied in entrapping and making examples of all the animals that come in his way. one pleasant evening, as he walked along the banks of a lake, he saw a flock of ducks, sailing and enjoying themselves on the blue waters. he called to them: "ho! come with me into my lodge, and i will teach you to dance!" some of the ducks said among themselves, "it is nan-nee-bo-zho; let us not go." others were of a contrary opinion, and, his words being fair, and his voice insinuating, a few turned their faces towards the land--all the rest soon followed, and, with many pleasant quackings, trooped after him, and entered his lodge. when there, he first took an indian sack, with a wide mouth, which he tied by the strings around his neck, so that it would hang over his shoulders, leaving the mouth unclosed. then, placing himself in the centre of the lodge, he ranged the ducks in a circle around him. "now," said he, "you must all shut your eyes _tight_; whoever opens his eyes at all, something dreadful will happen to him. i will take my indian flute and play upon it, and you will, at the word i shall give, open your eyes, and commence dancing, as you see me do." the ducks obeyed, shutting their eyes _tight_, and keeping time to the music by stepping from one foot to the other, all impatient for the dancing to begin. presently a sound was heard like a smothered "quack," but the ducks did not dare to open their eyes. again, and again, the sound of the flute would be interrupted, and a gurgling cry of "qu-a-a-ck" be heard. there was one little duck, much smaller than the rest, who, at this juncture, could not resist the temptation to open one eye, cautiously. she saw nan-nee-bo-zho, as he played his flute, holding it with one hand, stoop a little at intervals and seize the duck nearest him, which he throttled and stuffed into the bag on his shoulders. so, edging a little out of the circle, and getting nearer the door, which had been left partly open, to admit the light, she cried out,-- "open your eyes--nan-nee-bo-zho is choking you all and putting you into his bag!" with that she flew, but nan-nee-bo-zho pounced upon her. his hand grasped her back, yet, with desperate force, she released herself and gained the open air. her companions flew, quacking and screaming, after her. some escaped, and some fell victims to the sprite. the little duck had saved her life, but she had lost her beauty. she ever after retained the attitude she had been forced into in her moment of danger--her back pressed down in the centre, and her head and neck unnaturally stretched forward into the air. chapter xxv. return journey, continued. the third day of our journey rose brilliantly clear, like the two preceding ones, and we shaped our course more to the north than we had hitherto done, in the direction of _big-foot_ lake, now known by the somewhat hackneyed appellation, lake of geneva. our journey this day was without mishaps or disasters of any kind. the air was balmy, the foliage of the forests fresh and fragrant, the little brooks clear and sparkling--everything in nature spoke the praises of the beneficent creator. it is in scenes like this, far removed from the bustle, the strife, and the sin of civilized life, that we most fully realize the presence of the great author of the universe. here can the mind most fully adore his majesty and goodness, for here only is the command obeyed, "let all the earth keep silence before him!" it cannot escape observation that the deepest and most solemn devotion is in the hearts of those who, shut out from the worship of god in temples made with hands, are led to commune with him amid the boundless magnificence that his own power has framed. this day was not wholly without incident. as we stopped for our noon-tide refreshment, and dismounting threw ourselves on the fresh herbage just at the verge of a pleasant thicket, we were startled by a tender _bleating_ near us, and presently, breaking its way through the low branches, there came upon us a sweet little dappled fawn, evidently in search of its mother. it did not seem in the least frightened at the sight of us. as poor selkirk might have been parodied,-- it was so unacquainted with man, its tameness was charming to us. but the vociferous delight of the children soon drove it bounding again into the woods, and all hopes of catching it for a pet were at once at an end. we had travelled well this day, and were beginning to feel somewhat fatigued, when, just before sunset, we came upon a ridge, overlooking one of the loveliest little dells imaginable. it was an oak opening, and browsing under the shade of the tall trees which were scattered around were the cattle and horses of the soldiers, who had got thus far on their journey. two or three white tents were pitched in the bottom of the valley, beside a clear stream. the camp-fires were already lighted, and the men, singly or in groups, were busied in their various preparations for their own comfort, or that of their animals. lieutenant foster came forward with great delight to welcome our arrival, and accepted without hesitation an invitation to join our mess again, as long as we should be together. we soon found a pleasant encamping-ground, far enough removed from the other party to secure us against all inconvenience, and our supper having received the addition of a kettle of fine fresh milk, kindly brought us by mrs. gardiner, the hospital matron, who with her little covered cart formed no unimportant feature in the military group, we partook of our evening meal with much hilarity and enjoyment. if people are ever companionable, it is when thrown together under circumstances like the present. there has always been sufficient incident through the day to furnish themes for discourse, and subjects of merriment, as long as the company feel disposed for conversation, which is, truth to tell, not an unconscionable length of time after their supper is over. the poor lieutenant looked grave enough when we set out in advance of him the next morning. none of his party were acquainted with the road; but, after giving him directions both general and particular, mr. kinzie promised to _blaze_ a tree, or _set up a chip_ for a guide, at every place which appeared more than usually doubtful. we now found ourselves in a much more diversified country than any we had hitherto travelled. gently swelling hills, lovely valleys, and bright sparkling streams were the features of the landscape. but there was little animate life. now and then a shout from the leader of the party (for, according to custom, we travelled indian file) would call our attention to a herd of deer "loping," as the westerners say, through the forest; or an additional spur would be given to the horses on the appearance of some small dark object, far distant on the trail before us. but the game invariably contrived to disappear before we could reach it, and it was out of the question to leave the beaten track for a regular hunt. soon after mid-day, we descended a long, sloping knoll, and by a sudden turn came full in view of the beautiful sheet of water denominated gros-pied by the french, _maunk-suck_ by the natives, and by ourselves big-foot, from the chief whose village overlooked its waters. bold, swelling hills jutted forward into the clear blue expanse, or retreated slightly to afford a green, level nook, as a resting-place for the dwelling of man. on the nearer shore stretched a bright, gravelly beach, across which coursed here and there a pure, sparkling rivulet to join the larger sheet of water. on a rising ground at the foot of one of the bold bluffs in the middle distance, a collection of neat wigwams formed, with their surrounding gardens, no unpleasant feature in the picture. a shout of delight burst involuntarily from the whole party, as this charming landscape met our view. "it was like the hudson, only less bold--no, it was like the lake of the forest cantons, in the picture of the chapel of william tell! what could be imagined more enchanting? oh i if our friends at the east could but enjoy it with us!" we paused long to admire, and then spurred on, skirting the head of the lake, and were soon ascending the broad platform on which stood the village of maunk-suck, or big-foot. the inhabitants, who had witnessed our approach from a distance, were all assembled in front of their wigwams to greet us, if friends--if otherwise, whatever the occasion should demand. it was the first time such a spectacle had ever presented itself to their wondering eyes. their salutations were not less cordial than we expected. "shaw-nee-aw-kee" and his mother, who was known throughout the tribe by the touching appellation "our friend's wife," were welcomed most kindly, and an animated conversation commenced, which i could understand only so far as it was conveyed by gestures; so i amused myself by taking a minute survey of all that met my view. the chief was a large, raw-boned, ugly indian, with a countenance bloated by intemperance, and with a sinister, unpleasant expression. he had a gay-colored handkerchief upon his head, and was otherwise attired in his best, in compliment to the strangers. it was to this chief that chambly, or, as he is now called, shaw-bee-nay, billy caldwell, and robinson were dispatched, by dr. wolcott, their agent, during the winnebago war, in , to use their earnest endeavors to prevent this chief and his band from joining the hostile indians. with some difficulty they succeeded, and were thus the means, doubtless, of saving the lives of all the settlers who lived exposed upon the frontier. among the various groups of his people, there was none attracted my attention so forcibly as a young man of handsome face, and a figure that was striking even where all were fine and symmetrical. he too had a gay handkerchief on his head, a shirt of the brightest lemon-colored calico, an abundance of silver ornaments, and, what gave his dress a most fanciful appearance, one legging of blue and the other of bright scarlet. i was not ignorant that this peculiar feature in his toilet indicated a heart suffering from the tender passion. the flute, which he carried in his hand, added confirmation to the fact, while the joyous, animated expression of his countenance showed with equal plainness that he was not a despairing lover. i could have imagined him to have recently returned from the chase, laden with booty, with which he had, as is the custom, entered the lodge of the fair one, and thrown his burden at the feet of her parents, with an indifferent, superb sort of air, as much as to say, "here is some meat--it is a mere trifle, but it will show you what you might expect with me for a son-in-law." i could not doubt that the damsel had stepped forward and gathered it up, in token that she accepted the offering, and the donor along with it. there was nothing in the appearance or manner of any of the maidens by whom we were surrounded, to denote which was the happy fair, neither, although i peered anxiously into all their countenances, could i there detect any blush of consciousness; so i was obliged to content myself with selecting the youngest and prettiest of the group, and go on weaving my romance to my own satisfaction. the village stood encircled by an amphitheatre of hills, so precipitous, and with gorges so steep and narrow, that it seemed almost impossible to scale them, even on horseback; how, then, could we hope to accomplish the ascent of the four-wheeled carriage? this was the point now under discussion between my husband and the pottowattamies. there was no alternative but to make the effort, selecting the pass that the inhabitants pointed out as the most practicable. petaille went first, and i followed on my favorite jerry. it was such a scramble as is not often taken,--almost perpendicularly, through what seemed the dry bed of a torrent, now filled with loose stones, and scarcely affording one secure foothold from the bottom to the summit! i clang fast to the mane, literally at times clasping jerry around his neck, and, amid the encouraging shouts and cheers of those below, we at length arrived safely, though nearly breathless, on the pinnacle, and sat looking down, to view the success of the next party. the horses had been taken from the carriage, the luggage it contained being placed upon the shoulders of some of the young indians, to be _toted_ up the steep. ropes were now attached to its sides, and a regular bevy of our red friends, headed by our two frenchmen, placed to man them. two or three more took their places in the rear, to hold the vehicle and keep it from slipping backwards--then the labor commenced. such a pulling! such a shouting! such a clapping of hands by the spectators of both sexes! such a stentorian word of command or encouragement from the bourgeois! now and then there would be a slight halt, a wavering, as if carriage and men were about to tumble backwards into the plain below; but no--they would recover themselves, and after incredible efforts they too safely gained the table-land above. in process of time all were landed there, and, having remunerated our friends to their satisfaction, the goods and chattels were collected, the wagon repacked, and we set off for our encampment at turtle creek. the exertions and excitement of our laborious ascent, together with the increasing heat of the sun, made this afternoon's ride more uncomfortable than anything we had previously felt. we were truly rejoiced when the whoop of our guide, and the sight of a few scattered lodges, gave notice that we had reached our encamping-ground. we chose a beautiful sequestered spot by the side of a clear, sparkling stream, and, having dismounted and seen that our horses were made comfortable, my husband, after giving his directions to his men, led me to a retired spot where i could lay aside my hat and mask and bathe my flushed face and aching head in the cool, refreshing waters. never had i felt anything so grateful, so delicious. i sat down, and leaned my head against one of the tall, overshadowing trees, and was almost dreaming, when summoned to partake of our evening meal. the indians had brought us, as a present, some fine brook trout, which our frenchmen had prepared in the most tempting fashion, and before the bright moon rose and we were ready for oar rest, all headache and fatigue had alike disappeared. * * * * * one of the most charming features of this mode of travelling is the joyous, vocal life of the forest at early dawn, when all the feathered tribe come forth to pay their cheerful salutations to the opening day. the rapid, chattering flourish of the bob-o'-link, the soft whistle of the thrush, the tender coo of the wood-dove, the deep, warbling bass of the grouse, the drumming of the partridge, the melodious trill of the lark, the gay carol of the robin, the friendly, familiar call of the duck and the teal, resound from tree and knoll and lowland, prompting the expressive exclamation of the simple half-breed,-- "voilà la forêt qui parle!"[ ] it seems as if man must involuntarily raise his voice, to take part in the general chorus--the mating song of praise. birds and flowers, and the soft balmy airs of morning! must it not have been in a scene like this that milton's adam poured out his beautiful hymn of adoration,-- "these are thy glorious works, parent of good"? this day we were journeying in hopes to reach, at an early hour, that broad expanse of the rock river which here forms the kosh-ko-nong. the appellation of this water, rendered doubly affecting by the subsequent fate of its people, imports "_the lake we live on_." our road for the early part of the day led through forests so thick and tangled that grignon and lecuyer were often obliged to go in advance as pioneers with their axes, to cut away the obstructing shrubs and branches. it was slow work, and at times quite discouraging, but we were through with it at last, and then we came into a country of altogether a different description,--low prairies, intersected with deep, narrow streams like canals, the passage of which, either by horses or carriages, was often a matter of delay and even difficulty. several times in the course of the forenoon the horses were to be taken from the carriage and the latter pulled and pushed across the deep narrow channels as best it might. the wooded banks of the kosh-ko-nong were never welcomed with greater delight than by us when they at length broke upon our sight. a ride of five or six miles through the beautiful oak openings brought us to _man-eater's_ village, a collection of neat bark wigwams, with extensive fields on each side of corn, beans, and squashes, recently planted, but already giving promise of a fine crop. in front was the broad blue lake, the shores of which, to the south, were open and marshy, but near the village, and stretching far away to the north, were bordered by fine lofty trees. the village was built but a short distance below the point where the rock river opens into the lake, and during a conversation between our party and the indians at the village, an arrangement was made with them to take us across at a spot about half a mile above. after a short halt, we again took up our line of march through the woods, along the bank of the river. a number of the winnebagoes (for we had been among our own people since leaving gros-pied lake) set out for the appointed place by water, paddling their canoes, of which they had selected the largest and strongest. arrived at the spot indicated, we dismounted, and the men commenced the task of unsaddling and unloading. we were soon placed in the canoes, and paddled across to the opposite bank. next, the horses were swum across--after them was to come the carriage. two long wooden canoes were securely lashed together side by side, and being of sufficient width to admit of the carriage standing within them, the passage was commenced. again and again the tottering barks would sway from side to side, and a cry or a shout would arise from our party on shore, as the whole mass seemed about to plunge sideways into the water, but it would presently recover itself, and at length, after various deviations from the perpendicular, it reached the shore in safety. we now hoped that our troubles were at an end, and that we had nothing to do but to mount and trot on as fast as possible to fort winnebago. but no. half a mile farther on was a formidable swamp, of no great width it is true, but with a depth of from two to three feet of mud and water. it was a question whether, with the carriage, we could get through it at all. several of the indians accompanied us to this place, partly to give us their aid and counsel, and partly to enjoy the fun of the spectacle. on reaching the swamp, we were disposed to laugh at the formidable representations which had been made to us. we saw only a strip of what seemed rather low land, covered with tall, dry rushes. it is true the ground looked a little wet, but there seemed nothing to justify all the apprehensions that had been excited. great was my surprise, then, to see my husband, who had been a few minutes absent, return to our circle attired in his duck trousers, and without shoes or stockings. "what are you going to do?" inquired i. "carry you through the swamp on my shoulders. come, petaille, you are the strongest--you are to carry madame kinzie, and to-shun-nuck there (pointing to a tall, stout winnebago), he will take madame helm." "wait a moment," said i, and, seating myself on the grass, i deliberately took off my own boots and stockings. "what is that for?" they all asked. "because i do not wish to ride with wet feet all the rest of the day." "no danger of that," said they, and no one followed my example. by the time they were in the midst of the swamp, however, they found my precaution had been by no means useless. the water through which our bearers had to pass was of such a depth that no efforts of the ladies were sufficient to keep their feet above the surface; and i had the satisfaction of feeling that my burden upon my husband's shoulders was much less, from my being able to keep my first position instead of changing constantly to avoid a contact with the water. the laugh was quite on my side when i resumed my equipment and mounted, _dry-shod_, into my saddle. it will be perceived that journeying in the woods is, in some degree, a deranger of ceremony and formality; that it necessarily restricts us somewhat in our conventionalities. the only remedy is, to make ourselves amends by a double share when we return to the civilized walks of life. by dint of much pulling, shouting, encouraging, and threatening, the horses at length dragged the carriage through the difficult pass, and our red friends were left to return to their village, with, doubtless, a very exaggerated and amusing account of all that they had seen and assisted in. we had not forgotten our promise to lieutenant foster to put up a "guide-board" of some sort, for his accommodation in following us. we therefore, upon several occasions, carried with us from the woods a few pieces, of three or four feet in length, which we planted at certain points, with a transverse stick through a cleft in the top, thus marking the direction he and his party were to take. we therefore felt sure that, although a few days later, he would find our trail, and avail himself of the same assistance as we had, in getting through the difficulties of the way. our encamping-ground, this night, was to be not far distant from the four lakes. we were greatly fatigued with the heat and exercise of the day, and most anxiously did we look out for the clumps of willows and alders which were to mark the spot where water would be found. we felt hardly equal to pushing on quite to the bank of the nearest lake. indeed, it would have taken us too much off our direct course. when we, at a late hour, came upon a spot fit for our purpose, we exchanged mutual congratulations that this was to be our last night upon the road. the next day we should be at winnebago! our journey had been most delightful--a continued scene of exhilaration and enjoyment; for the various mishaps, although for the moment they had perplexed, yet, in the end, had but added to our amusement. still, with the inconstancy of human nature, we were pleased to exchange its excitement for the quiet repose of home. our next morning's ride was of a more tranquil character than any that had preceded it; for at an early hour we entered upon what was known as the "twenty-mile prairie,"--and i may be permitted to observe that the miles are wonderfully long on the prairies. our passage over this was, except the absence of the sand, like crossing the desert. mile after mile of unbroken expanse--not a tree--not a living object except ourselves. the sun, as if to make himself amends for his two months' seclusion, shone forth with redoubled brilliancy. there is no such thing as carrying an umbrella on horseback, though those in the wagon were able to avail themselves of such a shelter. our mother's energies had sustained her in the saddle until this day, but she was now fairly obliged to give in, and yield her place on little brunet to sister margaret. thus we went on, one little knoll rising beyond another, from the summit of each of which, in succession, we hoped to descry the distant woods, which were to us as the promised land. "take courage," were the cheering words, often repeated; "very soon you will begin to see the timber." another hour would pass heavily by. "now, when we reach the rising ground just ahead, look _sharp_." we would look sharp--nothing but the same unvarying landscape. there were not even streams to allay the feverish thirst occasioned by fatigue and impatience. at length a whoop from shaw-nee-aw-kee broke the silence in which we were pursuing our way. "le voilà!" (there it is!) our less practised eye could not at first discern the faint blue strip edging the horizon, but it grew and grew upon our vision, and fatigue and all discomfort proportionably disappeared. we were in fine spirits by the time we reached "hastings's woods," a noble forest, watered by a clear, sparkling stream. grateful as was the refreshment of the green foliage and the cooling waters, we did not allow ourselves to forget that the day was wearing on, and that we must, if possible, complete our journey before sunset; so we soon braced up our minds to continue our route, although we would gladly have lingered another hour. the marsh of duck creek was, thanks to the heat of the past week, in a very different state from what it had been a few months previous, when i had been so unfortunately submerged in its icy waters. we passed it without difficulty, and soon found ourselves upon the banks of the creek. the stream, at this point, was supposed to be always fordable; and even were it not so, that to the majority of our party would have been a matter of little moment. to the ladies, however, the subject seemed to demand consideration. "this water looks very deep--are you sure we can cross it on horseback?" "oh, yes! petaille, go before, and let us see how the water is." petaille obeyed. he was mounted on a horse like a giraffe, and, extending his feet horizontally, he certainly managed to pass through the stream without much of a wetting. it seemed certain that the water would come into the wagon, but that was of the less consequence as, in case of the worst, the passengers could mount upon the seats. my horse, jerry, was above the medium height, so that i soon passed over, with no inconvenience but that of being obliged to disengage my feet from the stirrups and tuck them up snugly against the mane of the horse. sister margaret was still upon brunet. she was advised to change him for one of the taller horses, but while the matter was under debate, it was settled by the perverse little wretch taking to the water most unceremoniously, in obedience to the example of the other animals. he was soon beyond his depth, and we were at once alarmed and diverted at seeing his rider, with surprising adroitness, draw her feet from the stirrups and perch herself upon the top of the saddle, where she held her position, and navigated her little refractory steed safely to land. this was the last of our adventures. a pleasant ride of four miles brought us to the fort, just as the sun was throwing his last beams over the glowing landscape; and on reaching the ferry we were at once conducted, by the friends who were awaiting us, to the hospitable roof of major twiggs. chapter xxvi. four-legs, the dandy. the companies of the first infantry, which had hitherto been stationed at fort winnebago, had before our arrival received orders to move on to the mississippi as soon as relieved by a portion of the fifth, now at fort howard. as many of the officers of the latter regiment were married, we had reason to expect that all the quarters at the post would be put in requisition. for this reason, although strongly pressed by major twiggs to take up our residence again in the fort until he should go on furlough, we thought it best to establish ourselves at once at "the agency." it seemed laughable to give so grand a name to so very insignificant a concern. we had been promised, by the heads of department at washington, a comfortable dwelling so soon as there should be an appropriation by congress sufficient to cover any extra expense in the indian department. it was evident that congress had a great spite at us, for it had delayed for two sessions attending to our accommodation. there was nothing to be done, therefore, but to make ourselves comfortable with the best means in our power. the old log barracks, which had been built for the officers and soldiers on the first establishment of the post, two years previous, had been removed by our french engagés and put up again upon the little hill opposite the fort. to these some additions were now made in the shape of dairy, stables, smoke-house, etc., constructed of tamarack logs brought from the neighboring swamp. the whole presented a very rough and primitive appearance. the main building consisted of a range of four rooms, no two of which communicated with each other, but each opened by a door into the outward air. a small window cut through the logs in front and rear, gave light to the apartment. an immense clay chimney for every two rooms, occupied one side of each, and the ceiling overhead was composed of a few rough boards laid upon the transverse logs that supported the roof. it was surprising how soon a comfortable, homelike air was given to the old dilapidated rooms, by a few indian mats spread upon the floor, the piano and other furniture ranged in their appropriate places, and even a few pictures hung against the logs. the latter, alas! had soon to be displaced, for with the first heavy shower the rain found entrance through sundry crevices, and we saw ourselves obliged to put aside, carefully, everything that could be injured by the moisture. we made light of these evils, however--packed away our carpets and superfluous furniture upon the boards above, which we dignified with the name of attic, and contentedly resolved to await the time when government should condescend to remember us. the greatest inconvenience i experienced, was from the necessity of wearing my straw bonnet throughout the day, as i journeyed from bedroom to parlor, and from parlor to kitchen. i became so accustomed to it that i even sometimes forgot to remove it when i sat down to table, or to my quiet occupations with my mother and sister. permission was, however, in time, received to build a house for the blacksmith--that is, the person kept in pay by the government at this station to mend the guns, traps, etc. of the indians. it happened most fortunately for us that monsieur isidore morrin was a bachelor, and quite satisfied to continue boarding with his friend louis frum, _dit_ manaigre, so that when the new house was fairly commenced we planned it and hurried it forward entirely on our own account. it was not very magnificent, it is true, consisting of but a parlor and two bedrooms on the ground-floor, and two low chambers under the roof, with a kitchen in the rear; but compared with the rambling old stable-like building we now inhabited, it seemed quite a palace. before it was completed, mr. kinzie was notified that the money for the annual indian payment was awaiting his arrival in detroit to take it in charge and superintend its transportation to the portage; and he was obliged to set off at once to fulfil this part of his duty. the workmen who had been brought from the mississippi to erect the main building, were fully competent to carry on their work without an overseer; but the kitchen was to be the task of the frenchmen, and the question was, how could it be executed in the absence of the _bourgeois_? "you will have to content yourselves in the old quarters until my return," said my husband, "and then we will soon have things in order." his journey was to be a long and tedious one, for the operations of government were not carried on by railroad and telegraph in those days. after his departure i said to the men, "come, you have all your logs cut and hauled--the squaws have brought the bark for the roof--what is to prevent our finishing the house and getting all moved and settled to surprise monsieur john on his return?" "ah! to be sure, madame john," said plante, who was always the spokesman, "provided the one who plants a green bough on the chimney-top is to have a treat." "certainly. all hands fall to work, and see who will win the treat." upon the strength of such an inducement to the one who should put the finishing stroke to the building, plante, pillon, and manaigre, whom the waggish plante persisted in calling "mon nègre," whenever he felt himself out of the reach of the other's arm, all went vigorously to work. building a log house is a somewhat curious process. first, as will be conceived, the logs are laid one upon another and jointed at the corners, until the walls have reached the required height. the chimney is formed by four poles of the proper length, interlaced with a wicker-work of small branches. a hole or pit is dug, near at hand, and, with a mixture of clay and water, a sort of mortar is formed. large wisps of hay are filled with this thick substance, and fashioned with the hands into what are technically called "_clay cats_," and these are filled in among the frame-work of the chimney until not a chink is left. the whole is then covered with a smooth coating of the wet clay, which is denominated "plastering." between the logs which compose the walls of the building, small bits of wood are driven, quite near together; this is called "chinking," and after it is done, clay cats are introduced, and smoothed over with the plaster. when all is dry, both walls and chimney are whitewashed, and present a comfortable and tidy appearance. the roof is formed by laying upon the transverse logs thick sheets of bark. around the chimney, for greater security against the rain, we took care to have placed a few layers of the palisades that had been left when mr. peach, an odd little itinerant genius, had fenced in our garden, the pride and wonder of the surrounding settlement and wigwams. while all these matters were in progress, we received frequent visits from our indian friends. first and foremost among them was "the young dandy," four-legs. one fine morning he made his appearance, accompanied by two squaws, whom he introduced as his wives. he could speak a little chippewa, and by this means he and our mother contrived to keep up something of a conversation. he was dressed in all his finery, brooches, wampum, fan, looking-glass and all. the paint upon his face and chest showed that he had devoted no small time to the labors of his toilet. he took a chair, as he had seen done at washington, and made signs to his women to sit down upon the floor. the custom of taking two wives is not very general among the indians. they seem to have the sagacity to perceive that the fewer they have to manage, the more complete is the peace and quiet of the wigwam. nevertheless, it sometimes happens that a husband takes a foolish fancy for a second squaw, and in that case he uses all his cunning and eloquence to reconcile the first to receiving a new inmate in the lodge. of course it is a matter that must be managed adroitly, in order that harmony may be preserved. "my dear, your health is not very good; it is time you should have some rest. you have worked very hard, and it grieves me that you should have to labor any longer. let me get you some nice young squaw to wait upon you, that you may live at ease all the rest of your life." the first wife consents; indeed, she has no option. if she is of a jealous, vindictive disposition, what a life the new-comer leads! the old one maintains all her rights of dowager and duenna, and the husband's tenderness is hardly a compensation for all the evils the young rival is made to suffer. it was on sunday morning that this visit of the dandy was made to us. we were all seated quietly, engaged in reading. four-legs inquired of my mother, why we were so occupied, and why everything around us was so still. my mother explained to him our observance of the day of rest--that we devoted it to worshipping and serving the great spirit, as he had commanded in his holy word. four-legs gave a nod of approbation. that was very right, he said--he was glad to see us doing our duty--he was very religious himself, and he liked to see others so. he always took care that his squaws attended to their duties,--not reading, perhaps, but such as the great spirit liked, and such as he thought proper and becoming. he seemed to have no fancy for listening to any explanation of our points of difference. the impression among the winnebagoes "that if the great spirit had wished them different from what they are, he would have made them so," seems too strong to yield to either argument or persuasion. sometimes those who are desirous of appearing somewhat civilized will listen quietly to all that is advanced on the subject of christianity, then, coolly saying, "yes, we believe that too," will change the conversation to other subjects. as a general thing, they do not appear to perceive that there is anything to be gained by adopting the religion and the customs of the whites. "look at them," they say, "always toiling and striving--always wearing a brow of care--shut up in houses--afraid of the wind and the rain--suffering when they are deprived of the comforts of life! we, on the contrary, live a life of freedom and happiness. we hunt and fish, and pass our time pleasantly in the open woods and prairies. if we are hungry, we take some game; or, if we do not find that, we can go without. if our enemies trouble us, we can kill them, and there is no more said about it. what should we gain by changing ourselves into white men?"[ ] christian missionaries, with all their efforts to convert them, had at this day made little progress in enlightening their minds upon the doctrines of the gospel. mr. mazzuchelli, a roman catholic priest, accompanied by miss elizabeth grignon as interpreter, made a missionary visit to the portage during our residence there, and, after some instruction from him, about forty consented to be baptized. christian names were given to them, with which they seemed much pleased; and not less so with the little plated crucifixes which each received, and which the women wore about their necks. these they seemed to regard with a devotional feeling; but i was not sufficiently acquainted with their language to gather from them whether they understood the doctrine the symbol was designed to convey. certain it is, they expressed no wish to learn our language, in order that they might gain a fuller knowledge of the saviour, nor any solicitude to be taught more about him than they had received during the missionary's short visit. one woman, to whom the name of charlotte had been given, signified a desire to learn the domestic ways of the whites, and asked of me as a favor through madame paquette that she might be permitted to come on "washing-day," and learn of my servants our way of managing the business. a tub was given her, and my woman instructed her, by signs and example, how she was to manage. as i was not a little curious to observe how things went on, i proceeded after a time to the kitchen where they all were. charlotte was at her tub, scouring and rubbing with all her might at her little crucifix. two other squaws sat upon the floor near her, watching the operation. "that is the work she has been at for the last half-hour," said josette, in a tone of great impatience. "_she'll_ never learn to wash." charlotte, however, soon fell diligently to work, and really seemed as if she would tear her arms off, with her violent exertions. after a time, supposing that she must feel a good deal fatigued and exhausted with the unaccustomed labor, i did what it was at that day very much the fashion to do,--what, at home, i had always seen done on washing-day,--what, in short, i imagine was then a general custom among housekeepers. i went to the dining-room closet, intending to give charlotte a glass of wine or brandy and water. my "cupboard" proved to be in the state of the luckless "mother hubbard's"--nothing of the kind could i find but a bottle of orange shrub. of this i poured out a wineglassful, and, carrying it out, offered it to the woman. she took it with an expression of great pleasure; but, in carrying it to her lips, she stopped short, and exclaiming, "whiskey!" immediately returned it to me. i would still have pressed it upon her; for, in my inexperience, i really believed it was a cordial she needed; but, pointing to her crucifix, she shook her head and returned to her work. i received this as a lesson more powerful than twenty sermons. it was the first time in my life that i had ever seen spirituous liquors rejected upon a religious principle, and it made an impression upon me that i never forgot. chapter xxvii. the cut-nose. among the women of the tribe with whom we early became acquainted, our greatest favorite was a daughter of one of the day-kau-rays. this family, as i have elsewhere said, boasted in some remote generation a cross of the french blood, and this fact might account for the fair complexion and soft curling hair which distinguished our friend. she had a noble forehead, full, expressive eyes, and fine teeth. unlike the women of her people, she had not grown brown and haggard with advancing years. indeed, with the exception of one feature, she might be called beautiful. she had many years before married a mus-qua-kee, or fox indian, and, according to the custom among all the tribes, the husband came home to the wife's family, and lived among the winnebagoes. it is this custom, so exactly the reverse of civilized ways, that makes the birth of a daughter a subject of peculiar rejoicing in an indian family. "she will bring another hunter to our lodge," is the style of mutual congratulation. the mus-qua-kee continued, for some few years, to live among his wife's relations; but, as no children blessed their union, he at length became tired of his new friends, and longed to return to his own people. he tried, for a time, to persuade his wife to leave her home, and accompany him to the mississippi, on the banks of which the sauks and foxes lived, but in vain. she could not resolve to make the sacrifice. one day, after many fruitless efforts to persuade her, he flew into a violent passion. "then, if you will not go with me," said he, "i will leave you; but you shall never be the wife of any other man--i will mark you!" saying this, he flew upon her, and bit off the end of her nose. this, the usual punishment for conjugal infidelity, is the greatest disgrace a woman can receive--it bars her forever from again entering the pale of matrimony. the wretch fled to his own people; but his revenge fell short of its aim. day-kau-ray was too well known and too universally respected to suffer opprobrium in any member of his family. this bright, loving creature in particular, won all hearts upon a first acquaintance--she certainly did ours, from the outset. she suffered much from rheumatism, and a remedy we gave her soon afforded her almost entire relief. her gratitude knew no bounds. notwithstanding that from long suffering she had become partially crippled, she would walk all the way from the barribault, a distance of ten miles, as often as once in two or three weeks, to visit us. then, to sit and gaze at us, to laugh with childish glee at everything new or strange that we employed ourselves about--to pat and stroke us every time we came near her--sometimes to raise our hand or arm and kiss it--these were her demonstrations of affection. and we loved her in return. it was always a joyful announcement when, looking out over the portage road, somebody called out, "the _cut-nose_ is coming!" in time, however, we learned to call her by her baptismal name of elizabeth, for she, too, was one of mr. mazzuchelli's converts. she came one day, accompanied by a half-grown boy, carrying a young fawn she had brought me as a present. i was delighted with the pretty creature--with its soft eyes and dappled coat; but having often heard the simile, "as wild as a fawn," i did not anticipate much success in taming it. to my great surprise, it soon learned to follow me like a dog. wherever i went, there fan was sure to be. at breakfast, she would lie down at my feet, under the table. one of her first tokens of affection was to gnaw off all the trimming from my black silk apron, as she lay pretending to caress and fondle me. nor was this her only style of mischief. one day we heard a great rattling among the crockery in the kitchen. we ran to see what was the matter, and found that miss fan had made her way to a shelf of the dresser, about two feet from the ground, and was endeavoring to find a comfortable place to lie down, among the plates and dishes. i soon observed that it was the shelter of the shelf above her head that was the great attraction, and that she was in the habit of seeking out a place of repose under a chair, or something approaching to an "umbrageous bower." so after this i took care, as the hour for her morning nap approached, to open a large green parasol, and set it on the matting in the corner--then when i called "fan, fan," she would come and nestle under it, and soon fall fast asleep. one morning fan was missing. in vain we called and sought her in the garden--in the enclosure for the cattle--at the houses of the frenchmen--along the hill towards paquette's--no fan was to be found. we thought she had asserted her own wild nature and sped away to the woods. it was a hot forenoon, and the doors were all open. about dinner-time, in rushed fan, panting violently, and threw herself upon her side, where she lay with her feet outstretched, her mouth foaming, and exhibiting all the signs of mortal agony. we tried to give her water, to soothe her, if perhaps it might be fright that so affected her; but in a few minutes, with a gasp and a spasm, she breathed her last. whether she had been chased by the greyhounds, or whether she had eaten some poisonous weed, which, occasioning her suffering, had driven her to her best friends for aid, we never knew; but we lost our pretty pet, and many were the tears shed for her. * * * * * very shortly after the departure of my husband, we received a visit from "the white crow," the "little priest," and several others of the principal chiefs of the bock river indians. they seemed greatly disappointed at learning that their father was from home, even though his errand was to get "the silver." we sent for paquette, who interpreted for us the object of their visit. they had come to inform us that the sauk chief black hawk and his band, who, in compliance with a former treaty, had removed some time previous to the west of the mississippi, had now returned to their old homes and hunting-grounds, and expressed a determination not to relinquish them, but to drive off the white settlers who had begun to occupy them. the latter, in fact, the chief had already done, and having, as it was said, induced some of the pottowattamies to join him, there was reason to fear that he might persuade some of the winnebagoes to follow their example. these chiefs had come to counsel with their father, and to assure him that they should do all in their power to keep their young men quiet. they had heard that troops were being raised down among the whites in illinois, and they had hopes that their people would be wise enough to keep out of difficulty. furthermore, they begged that their father, on his return, would see that the soldiers did not meddle with them, so long as they remained quiet and behaved in a friendly manner. white crow seemed particularly anxious to impress it upon me, that if any danger should arise in shaw-nee-aw-kee's absence, he should come with his people to protect me and my family. i relied upon his assurances, for he had ever shown himself an upright and honorable indian. notwithstanding this, the thoughts of indian troubles so near us, in the absence of our guardian and protector, occasioned us many an anxious moment, and it was not until we learned of the peaceable retreat of the sauks and foxes west of the mississippi, that we were able wholly to lay aside our fears. we were now called to part with our friends, major twiggs and his family, which we did with heartfelt regret. he gave me a few parting words about our old acquaintance, krissman. "when i went into the barracks the other day," said he, "about the time the men were taking their dinner, i noticed a great six-foot soldier standing against the window-frame, crying and blubbering. 'halloo,' said i, 'what on earth does this mean?' "'why, that fellow there,' said krissman (for it was he), 'has scrowged me out of my place!' a pretty soldier your protége will make, madam!" added the major. i never heard more of my hero. whether he went to exhibit his prowess against the seminoles and mexicans, or whether he returned to till the fertile soil of his native german flats and blow his favorite boatman's horn, must be left for some future historian to tell. there is one more character to be disposed of--louisa. an opportunity offering in the spring, the major placed her under the charge of a person going to buffalo, that she might be returned to her parents. in compliment to the new acquaintances she had formed, she shortened her skirts, mounted a pair of scarlet leggings embroidered with porcupine-quills, and took her leave of military life, having deposited with the gentleman who took charge of her sixty dollars, for safe keeping, which she remarked "she had _saved up_, out of her wages at a dollar a week, through the winter." * * * * * a very short time after we were settled in our new home at the agency, we attempted the commencement of a little sunday-school. edwin, harry and josette were our most reliable scholars, but besides them there were the two little manaigres, thérèse paquette, and her mother's half-sister, florence courville, a pretty young girl of fifteen. none of these girls had even learned their letters. they spoke only french, or rather the canadian _patois_, and it was exceedingly difficult to give them at once the sound of the words, and their signification, which they were careful to inquire. besides this, there was the task of correcting the false ideas, and remedying the ignorance and superstition which presented so formidable an obstacle to rational improvement. we did our best, however, and had the satisfaction of seeing them, after a time, making really respectable progress with their spelling-book, and, what was still more encouraging, acquiring a degree of light and knowledge in regard to better things. in process of time, however, florence was often absent from her class. "her sister," she said, "could not always spare her. she wanted her to keep house while she herself went over oil sunday to visit her friends the roys, who lived on the wisconsin." we reasoned with madame paquette on the subject. "could she not spare florence on some hour of the day? we would gladly teach her on a week-day, for she seemed anxious to learn, but we had always been told that for that there was no time." "well--she would see. madame alum (helm) and madame john were so kind!" there was no improvement, however, in regularity. after a time manaigre was induced to send his children to mr. cadle's mission-school at green bay. thérèse accompanied them, and very soon florence discontinued her attendance altogether. we were obliged, from that time forward, to confine our instructions to our own domestic circle. chapter xxviii. indian customs and dances. before we had any right to look for my husband's return, i one day received a message inviting me to come up to the new house. we all went in a body, for we had purposely stayed away a few days, expecting this summons, of which we anticipated the meaning. plante, in full glee, was seated astride of a small keg on the roof, close beside the kitchen chimney, on the very summit of which he had planted a green bough. to this he held fast with one hand, while he exultingly waved the other and called out,-- "_eh ban, madame john! à cette heure, pour le régal!_" "yes, plante, you are entitled to a treat, and i hope you will not enjoy it the less that pillon and manaigre are to share it with you." a suitable gratification made them quite contented with their "_bourgeoise_," against whom plante had sometimes been inclined to grumble, "because," as he said, "she had him called up too early in the morning." he might have added, because, too, she could not understand the philosophy of his coming in to work in his own garden, under the plea that it was too rainy to work in monsieur john's. it was with no ordinary feelings of satisfaction that we quitted the old log tenement and took possession of our new dwelling, small and insignificant though it was. i was only too happy to enjoy the luxury of a real bedchamber, in place of the parlor floor which i had occupied as such for more than two months. it is true that our culinary arrangements were still upon no greatly improved plan. the clay chimney was not of sufficient strength to hold the trammel and pot-hooks, which at that day had not been superseded by the cooking-stove and kitchen-range. our fire was made as in the olden time, with vast logs behind, and smaller sticks in front, laid across upon the andirons or _dogs_. upon these sticks were placed such of the cooking-utensils as could not be accommodated on the hearth; but woe to the dinner or the supper, if through a little want of care or scrutiny one treacherous piece was suffered to burn away. down would come the whole arrangement--kettles, saucepans, burning brands, and cinders, in one almost inextricable mass. how often this happened under the supervision of harry or little josette, while the mistress was playing lady to some visitor in the parlor, "'twere vain to tell." then, spite of monsieur plante's palisades round the chimney, in a hard shower the rain would come pelting down, and, the hearth unfortunately sloping a little the wrong way, the fire would become extinguished; while, the bark on the roof failing to do its duty, we were now and then so completely deluged, that there was no resource but to catch up the breakfast or dinner and tuck it under the table until better times--that is, till fair weather came again. in spite of all these little adverse occurrences, however, we enjoyed our new quarters exceedingly. our garden was well furnished with vegetables, and even the currant-bushes which we had brought from chicago with us, tied in a bundle at the back of the carriage, had produced us some fruit. the indian women were very constant in their visits and their presents. sometimes it was venison--sometimes ducks or pigeons--whortleberries, wild plums, or cranberries, according to the season--neat pretty mats for the floor or the table--wooden bowls or ladles, fancy work of deer-skin or porcupine-quills. these they would bring in and throw at my feet. if through inattention i failed to appear pleased, to raise the articles from the floor and lay them carefully aside, a look of mortification and the observation, "our mother hates our gifts," showed how much their feelings were wounded. it was always expected that a present would be received graciously, and returned with something twice its value. meantime, week after week wore on, and still was the return of "the master" delayed. the rare arrival of a schooner at green bay, in which to take passage for detroit, made it always a matter of uncertainty what length of time would be necessary for a journey across the lakes and back--so that it was not until the last of august that he again reached his home. great was his surprise to find us so nicely moved and settled; and under his active supervision the evils of which we had had to complain were soon remedied. my husband had met at fort gratiot, and brought with him, my young brother julian, whom my parents were sending, at our request, to reside with us. edwin was overjoyed to have a companion once more, for he had hitherto been very solitary. the boys soon had enough to occupy their attention, as, in obedience to a summons sent to the different villages, the indians very shortly came flocking in to the payment. there was among their number, this year, one whom i had never before seen--the mother of the elder day-kau-ray. no one could tell her age, but all agreed that she must have seen upwards of a hundred winters. her eyes dimmed, and almost white with age--her face dark and withered, like a baked apple--her voice tremulous and feeble, except when raised in fury to reprove her graceless grandsons, who were fond of playing her all sorts of mischievous tricks, indicated the very great age she must have attained. she usually went upon all-fours, not having strength to hold herself erect. on the day of the payment, having received her portion, which she carefully hid in the corner of her blanket, she came crawling along and seated herself on the door-step, to count her treasure. my sister and i were watching her movements from the open window. presently, just as she had, unobserved, as she thought, spread out her silver before her, two of her descendants came suddenly upon her. at first they seemed begging for a share, but she repulsed them with angry gestures, when one of them made a sudden swoop, and possessed himself of a handful. she tried to rise, to pursue him, but was unable to do more than clutch the remainder and utter the most unearthly screams of rage. at this instant the boys raised their eyes and perceived us regarding them. they burst into a laugh, and with a sort of mocking gesture they threw her the half-dollars, and ran back to the pay-ground. in spite of their vexatious tricks, she seemed very fond of them, and never failed to beg something of her father, that she might bestow upon them. she crept into the parlor one morning, then straightening herself up, and supporting herself by the frame of the door, she cried, in a most piteous tone,--"shaw-nee-aw-kee! wau-tshob-ee-rah thsoonsh-koo-nee-noh!" (silver-man, i have no looking-glass.) my husband, smiling and taking up the same little tone, cried, in return,-- "do you wish to look at yourself, mother?" the idea seemed to her so irresistibly comic that she laughed until she was fairly obliged to seat herself upon the floor and give way to her enjoyment. she then owned that it was for one of the boys that she wanted the little mirror. when her father had given it to her, she found that she had "no comb," then that she had "no knife," then that she had "no calico shawl," until it ended, as it generally did, by shaw-nee-aw-kee paying pretty dearly for his joke. * * * * * when the indians arrived and when they departed, my sense of "woman's rights" was often greatly outraged. the master of the family, as a general thing, came leisurely bearing his gun and perhaps a lance in his hand; the woman, with the mats and poles of her lodge upon her shoulders, her pappoose, if she had one, her kettles, sacks of corn, and wild rice, and, not unfrequently, the household dog perched on the top of all. if there is a horse or pony in the list of family possessions, the man rides, the squaw trudges after. this unequal division of labor is the result of no want of kind, affectionate feeling on the part of the husband. it is rather the instinct of the sex to assert their superiority of position and importance, when a proper occasion offers. when out of the reach of observation, and in no danger of compromising his own dignity, the husband is willing enough to relieve his spouse from the burden that custom imposes on her, by sharing her labors and hardships. the payment had not passed without its appropriate number of complimentary and medicine dances. the latter take place only at rare intervals--the former whenever an occasion demanding a manifestation of respect and courtesy presents itself. it is the custom to ask permission of the person to be complimented, to dance for him. this granted, preparation is made by painting the face elaborately, and marking the person, which is usually bare about the chest and shoulders, after the most approved pattern. all the ornaments that can be mustered are added to the hair, or headdress. happy is he who, in virtue of having taken one or more scalps, is entitled to proclaim it by a corresponding number of eagle's feathers. the less fortunate make a substitute of the feathers of the wild turkey, or, better still, of the first unlucky "rooster" that falls in their way. my poor fowls, during the time of payment, were always thoroughly plucked. when their preparations are completed, the dancers assemble at some convenient place, whence they come marching to the spot appointed, accompanied by the music of the indian drum and shee-shee-qua or rattle. they range themselves in a circle and dance with violent contortions and gesticulations, some of them graceful, others only energetic, the squaws, who stand a little apart and mingle their discordant voices with the music of the instruments, rarely participating in the dance. occasionally, however, when excited by the general gaiety, a few of them will form a circle outside and perform a sort of ungraceful, up-and-down movement, which has no merit, save the perfect time which is kept, and for which the indians seem, without exception, to possess a natural ear. the dance finished, which is only when the strength of the dancers is quite exhausted, a quantity of presents are brought and placed in the middle of the circle, by order of the party complimented. an equitable distribution is made by one of their number; and, the object of all this display having been accomplished, they retire. the medicine dance is carried on chiefly to celebrate the skill of the "medicine-man" in curing diseases. this functionary belongs to a fraternity who are supposed to add to their other powers some skill in interpreting the will of the great spirit in regard to the conduct of his people. he occasionally makes offerings and sacrifices which are regarded as propitiatory. in this sense, the term "priest" may be deemed applicable to him. he is also a "prophet" in so far as he is, in a limited degree, an instructor; but he does not claim to possess the gift of foretelling future events. a person is selected to join the fraternity of the "medicine-man" by those already initiated, chiefly on account of some skill or sagacity that has been observed in him. sometimes it happens that a person who has had a severe illness which has yielded to the prescriptions of one of the members, is considered a proper object of choice from a sort of claim thus established. when he is about to be initiated, a great feast is made, of course at the expense of the candidate, for in simple as in civilized life the same principle of politics holds good, "honors must be paid for." an animal is killed and dressed, of which the people at large partake--there are dances and songs and speeches in abundance. then the chief medicine-man takes the candidate and privately instructs him in all the ceremonies and knowledge necessary to make him an accomplished member of the fraternity. sometimes the new member selected is still a child. in that case he is taken by the medicine-man so soon as he reaches a proper age, and qualified by instruction and example to become a creditable member of the fraternity. among the winnebagoes there seems a considerable belief in magic. each medicine-man has a bag or sack, in which is supposed to be inclosed some animal, to whom, in the course of their _pow-wows_, he addresses himself, crying to him in the note common to his imagined species. and the people seem to be persuaded that the answers which are announced are really communications, in this form, from the great spirit. the indians appear to have no idea of a retribution beyond this life. they have a strong appreciation of the great fundamental virtues of natural religion--the worship of the great spirit, brotherly love, parental affection, honesty, temperance, and chastity. any infringement of the laws of the great spirit, by a departure from these virtues, they believe will excite his anger and draw down punishment. these are their principles. that their practice evinces more and more a departure from them, under the debasing influences of a proximity to the whites, is a melancholy truth, which no one will admit with so much sorrow as those who lived among them, and esteemed them, before this signal change had taken place. * * * * * one of the first improvements that suggested itself about our new dwelling, was the removal of some very unsightly pickets surrounding two or three indian graves, on the esplanade in front of the house. such, however, is the reverence in which these burial-places are held, that we felt we must approach the subject with great delicacy and consideration. my husband at length ventured to propose to mrs. "pawnee blanc," the nearest surviving relative of the person interred, to replace the pickets with a neat wooden platform. the idea pleased her much, for, through her intimacy in paquette's family, she had acquired something of a taste for civilization. accordingly, a little platform about a foot in height, properly finished with a moulding around the edge, was substituted for the worn and blackened pickets; and it was touching to witness the mournful satisfaction with which two or three old crones would come regularly every evening at sunset, to sit and gossip over the ashes of their departed relatives. on the fine moonlight nights, too, there might often be seen a group sitting there, and enjoying what is to them a solemn hour, for they entertain the poetic belief that "the moon was made to give light to the dead." the reverence of the indians for the memory of their departed friends, and their dutiful attention in visiting and making offerings to the great spirit, over their last resting-places, is an example worthy of imitation among their more enlightened brethren. not so, however, with some of their customs in relation to the dead. the news of the decease of one of their number is a signal for a general mourning and lamentation; it is also in some instances, i am sorry to say, when the means and appliances can be found, the apology for a general carouse. the relatives weep and howl for grief--the friends and acquaintance bear them company through sympathy. a few of their number are deputed to wait upon their father, to inform him of the event, and to beg some presents "to help them," as they express it, "dry up their tears." we received such a visit one morning, not long after the payment was concluded. a drunken little indian, named, by the french people around, "old boilvin," from his resemblance to an indian agent of that name at prairie du chien, was the person on account of whose death the application was made. "he had been fishing," they said, "on the shores of one of the little lakes near the portage, and, having taken a little too much '_whiskee_,' had fallen into the water and been drowned." nothing of him had been found but his blanket on the bank, so there could be no funeral ceremonies, but his friends were prepared to make a great lamentation about him. their father presented them with tobacco, knives, calico, and looking-glasses, in proportion to what he thought might be their reasonable grief at the loss of such a worthless vagabond, and they departed. there was no difficulty, notwithstanding the stringent prohibitions on the subject, in procuring a keg of whiskey from some of the traders who yet remained. armed with that and their other treasures, they assembled at an appointed spot, not far from the scene of the catastrophe, and, sitting down with the keg in their midst, they commenced their affliction. the more they drank, the more clamorous became their grief, and the faster flowed their tears. in the midst of these demonstrations, a little figure, bent and staggering, covered with mud and all in disorder, with a countenance full of wonder and sympathy, approached them, and began,-- "why? what? what? who's dead?" "who's dead?" repeated they, looking up in astonishment. "why, you're dead! you were drowned in swan lake! did not we find your blanket there? come, sit down and help us mourn." the old man did not wait for a second invitation. he took his seat and cried and drank with the rest, weeping and lamenting as bitterly as any of them, and the strange scene was continued as long as they had power to articulate, or any portion of the whiskey was left. chapter xxix. story of the red fox. the indians, of whatever tribe, are exceedingly fond of narrating or listening to tales and stories, whether historical or fictitious. they have their professed storytellers, like the oriental nations, and these go about, from village to village, collecting an admiring and attentive audience, however oft-told and familiar the matter they recite. it is in this way that their traditions are preserved and handed down unimpaired from generation to generation. their knowledge of the geography of their country is wonderfully exact. i have seen an indian sit in his lodge, and draw a map, in the ashes, of the northwestern states, not of their statistical but their geographical features, lakes, rivers, and mountains, with the greatest accuracy, giving their relative distances, by days' journeys, without hesitation, and even extending his drawings and explanations as far as kentucky and tennessee. of biography they preserve not only the leading events in the life of the person, but his features, appearance, and bearing, his manners, and whatever little trait or peculiarity characterized him. the women are more fond of fiction, and some of their stories have a strange mingling of humor and pathos. i give the two which follow as specimens. the indian names contained in them are in the ottawa or "courte-oreilles" language, but the same tales are current in all the different tongues and dialects. * * * * * story of the red fox. this is an animal to which many peculiarities are attributed. he is said to resemble the jackal in his habit of molesting the graves of the dead, and the indians have a superstitious dread of hearing his bark at night, believing that it forebodes calamity and death. they say, too, that he was originally of one uniform reddish-brown color, but that his legs became black in the manner related in the story. there was a chief of a certain village who had a beautiful daughter. he resolved upon one occasion to make a feast and invite all the animals. when the invitation was brought to the red fox, he inquired, "what are you going to have for supper?" "_mee-dau-mee-nau-bo_," was the reply. (this is a porridge made of parched corn, slightly cracked.) the fox turned up his little sharp nose. "no, i thank you," said he; "i can get plenty of that at home." the messenger returned to the chief, and reported the contemptuous refusal of the fox. "go back to him," said the chief, "and tell him we are going to have a nice fresh body,[ ] and we will have it cooked in the most delicate manner possible." pleased with the prospect of such a treat, the fox gave a very hearty assent to the second invitation. the hour arrived, and he set off for the lodge of the chief to attend the feast. the company were all prepared for him, for they made common cause with their friend who had been insulted. as the fox entered, the guest next the door, with great courtesy, rose from his place, and begged the new-comer to be seated. immediately the person next him also rose, and insisted that the fox should occupy his place, as it was still nearer the fire--the post of honor. then the third, with many expressions of civility, pressed him to exchange with him; and thus, with many ceremonious flourishes, he was passed along the circle, always approaching the fire, where a huge cauldron stood, in which the good cheer was still cooking. the fox was by no means unwilling to occupy the highest place in the assembly, and, besides, he was anxious to take a peep into the kettle, for he had his suspicions that he might be disappointed of the delicacies he had been expecting. so, by degrees, he was ushered nearer and nearer the great blazing fire, until by a dexterous push and shove he was hoisted into the seething kettle. his feet were dreadfully scalded, but he leaped out, and ran home to his lodge, howling and crying with pain. his grandmother, with whom, according to the custom of animals, he lived, demanded of him an account of the affair. when he had faithfully related all the circumstances (for, unlike the civilized animals, he did not think of telling his grandmother a story), she reproved him very strongly. "you have committed two great faults," said she. "in the first place, you were very rude to the chief who was so kind as to invite you, and by returning insult for civility you made yourself enemies who were determined to punish you. in the next place, it was very unbecoming in you to be so forward to take the place of honor. had you been contented modestly to keep your seat near the door, you would have escaped the misfortune that has befallen you." all this was not very consolatory to the poor fox, who continued to whine and cry most piteously, while his grandmother, having finished her lecture, proceeded to bind up his wounds. great virtue is supposed to be added to all medical prescriptions and applications by a little dancing; so, the dressing having been applied, the grandmother fell to dancing with all her might, round and round in the lodge. when she was nearly exhausted, the fox said, "grandmother, take off the bandages and see if my legs are healed." she did as he requested, but no--the burns were still fresh. she danced and danced again. now and then, as he grew impatient, she would remove the coverings to observe the effect of the remedies. at length, towards morning, she looked, and, to be sure, the burns were quite healed. "but, oh!" cried she, "your legs are as black as a coal! they were so badly burned that they will never return to their color!" the poor fox, who, like many another brave, was vain of his legs, fell into a transport of lamentation. "oh! my legs! my pretty red legs! what shall i do? the young girls will all despise me. i shall never dare to show myself among them again!" he cried and sobbed until his grandmother, fatigued with her exercise, fell asleep. by this time he had decided upon his plan of revenge. he rose and stole softly out of his lodge, and, pursuing his way rapidly towards the village of the chief, he turned his face in the direction of the principal lodge and barked. when the inhabitants heard this sound in the stillness of the night, their hearts trembled. they knew that it foreboded sorrow and trouble to some one of their number. a very short time elapsed before the beautiful daughter of the chief fell sick, and she grew rapidly worse and worse, spite of medicines, charms, and dances. at length she died. the fox had not intended to bring misfortune on the village in this shape, for he loved the beautiful daughter of the chief, so he kept in his lodge and mourned and fretted for her death. preparations were made for a magnificent funeral, but the friends of the deceased were in great perplexity. "if we bury her in the earth," said they, "the fox will come and disturb her remains. he has barked her to death, and he will be glad to come and finish his work of revenge." they took counsel together, and determined to hang her body high in a tree as a place of sepulture. they thought the fox would go groping about in the earth, and not lift up his eyes to the branches above his head. but the grandmother had been at the funeral, and she returned and told the fox all that had been done. "now, my son," said she, "listen to me. do not meddle with the remains of the chief's daughter. you have done mischief enough already. leave her in peace." as soon as the grandmother was asleep at night, the fox rambled forth. he soon found the place he sought, and came and sat under the tree where the young girl had been placed. he gazed and gazed at her all the livelong night, and she appeared as beautiful as when in life. but when the day dawned, and the light enabled him to see more clearly, then he observed that decay was doing its work--that instead of a beautiful she presented only a loathsome appearance. he went home sad and afflicted, and passed all the day mourning in his lodge. "have you disturbed the remains of the chief's beautiful daughter?" was his parent's anxious question. "no, grandmother,"--and he uttered not another word. thus it went on for many days and nights. the fox always took care to quit his watch at the early dawn of day, for he knew that her friends would suspect him, and come betimes to see if all was right. at length he perceived that, gradually, the young girl looked less and less hideous in the morning light, and that she by degrees resumed the appearance she had presented in life, so that in process of time her beauty and look of health quite returned to her. one day he said, "grandmother, give me my pipe, that i may take a smoke." "ah!" cried she, "you begin to be comforted. you have never smoked since the death of the chief's beautiful daughter. have you heard some good news?" "never you mind," said he; "bring the pipe." he sat down and smoked, and smoked. after a time he said, "grandmother, sweep your lodge and put it all in order, for this day you will receive a visit from your daughter-in-law." the grandmother did as she was desired. she swept her lodge, and arranged it with all the taste she possessed, and then both sat down to await the visit. "when you hear a sound at the door," said the fox, "you must give the salutation, and say, come in." when they had been thus seated for a time, the grandmother heard a faint, rustling sound. she looked towards the door. to her surprise, the mat which usually hung as a curtain was rolled up, and the door was open. "peen-tee-geen n'dau-nis!"[ ] cried she. something like a faint, faint shadow appeared to glide in. it took gradually a more distinct outline. as she looked and looked, she began to discern the form and features of the chief's beautiful daughter, but it was long before she appeared like a reality, and took her place in the lodge like a thing of flesh and blood. they kept the matter hid very close, for they would not for the world that the father or friends of the bride should know what had happened. soon, however, it began to be rumored about that the chief's beautiful daughter had returned to life, and was living in the red fox's lodge. how it ever became known was a mystery, for, of course, the grandmother never spoke of it. be that as it may, the news created great excitement in the village. "this must never be," said they all. "he barked her to death once, and who knows what he may do next time?" the father took at once a decided part. "the red fox is not worthy of my daughter," he said. "i had promised her to the hart, the finest and most elegant among the animals. now that she has returned to life, i shall keep my word." so the friends all went in a body to the lodge of the red fox. the bridegroom, the bride, and the grandmother made all the resistance possible, but they were overpowered by numbers, and, the hart having remained conveniently waiting on the outside where there was no danger, the beautiful daughter of the chief was placed upon his back, and he coursed away through the forest to carry her to his own home. when he arrived at the door of his lodge, however, he turned his head, but no bride was in the place where he expected to see her. he had thought his burden very light from the beginning, but that he supposed was natural to spirits returned from the dead. he never imagined she had at the outset glided from her seat, and in the midst of the tumult slipped back, unobserved, to her chosen husband. one or two attempts were made by the friends, after this, to repossess themselves of the young creature, but all without success. then they said, "let her remain where she is. it is true the red fox occasioned her death, but by his watchfulness and care he caressed her into life again; therefore she rightfully belongs to him." so the red fox and his beautiful bride lived long together in great peace and happiness. chapter xxx. story of shee-shee-banze. there was a young man named shee-shee-banze (the little duck) paddling his canoe along the shore of the lake. two girls came down to the edge of the water, and, seeing him, the elder said to the younger, "let us call to him to take us a sail." it must be remarked that in all indian stories where two or more sisters are the _dramatis personae_, the elder is invariably represented as silly, ridiculous, and disgusting--the younger, as wise and beautiful. in the present case the younger remonstrated. "oh, no," said she, "let us not do such a thing. what will he think of us?" but the other persevered, and called to him, "ho! come and take us into your canoe." the young man obeyed, and, approaching the shore, he took them with him into the canoe. "who are you?" asked the elder sister. "i am _way-gee-mar-kin_," replied he, "the great chief." this way-gee-mar-kin was something of a fairy, for when surrounded by his followers, and wishing to confer favors on them, he had a habit of coughing slightly, when there would fly forth from his mouth quantities of silver brooches, ear-bobs, and other ornaments, for which it was the custom of his people to scramble, each striving, as in more civilized life, to get more than his share. accordingly, the elder sister said, "if you are way-gee-mar-kin, let us see you cough." shee-shee-banze had a few of these silver ornaments which he had got by scrambling, and which he kept stowed away in the sides of his mouth in case of emergency. so he gave some spasmodic coughs and brought forth a few, which the girl eagerly seized. after a time, as they paddled along, a fine noble elk came forth from the forest, and approached the water to drink. "what is that?" asked the spokeswoman; for the younger sister sat silent and modest all the time. "it is my dog that i hunt with." "call him to us, that i may see him." shee-shee-banze called, but the elk turned and fled into the woods. "he does not seem to obey you, however." "no; it is because you inspire him with disgust, and therefore he flies from you." soon a bear made his appearance by the water's edge. "what is that?" "one of my servants." again he was requested to call him, and, as the call was disregarded, the same reason as before was assigned. their excursion was at length ended. there had been a little magic in it, for although the young girls had supposed themselves to be in a canoe, there was, in reality, no canoe at all. they only imagined it to have been so. now, shee-shee-banze lived with his grandmother, and to her lodge he conducted his young friends. they stood outside while he went in. "grandmother," said he, "i have brought you two young girls, who will be your daughters-in-law. invite them into your lodge." upon this, the old woman called, "ho! come in," and they entered. they were made welcome and treated to the best of everything. in the mean time, the real way-gee-mar-kin, the great chief, made preparations for a grand feast. when he was sending his messenger out with the invitations, he said to him, "be very particular to bid shee-shee-banze to the feast, for, as he is the smallest and meanest person in the tribe, you must use double ceremony with him, or he will be apt to think himself slighted." shee-shee-banze was sitting in his lodge with his new friends, when the messenger arrived. "ho! shee-shee-banze," cried he, "you are invited to a great feast that way-gee-mar-kin is to give to-night, to all his subjects." but shee-shee-banze took no notice of the invitation. he only whistled, and pretended not to hear. the messenger repeated his words, then, finding that no attention was paid to them, he went his way. the young girls looked at each other, during the scene, greatly astonished. at length the elder spoke. "what does this mean?" said she. "why does he call you shee-shee-banze, and invite you to visit way-gee-mar-kin?" "oh," said shee-shee-banze, "it is one of my followers that always likes to be a little impudent. i am obliged to put up with it sometimes, but you observed that i treated him with silent contempt." the messenger returned to the chief, and reported the manner in which the invitation had been received. "oh," said the good-natured chief, "it is because he feels that he is poor and insignificant. go back again--call him by my name, and make a flourishing speech to him." the messenger fulfilled his mission as he was bid. "way-gee-mar-kin," said he, pompously, "a great feast is to be given to-night, and i am sent most respectfully to solicit the honor of your company!" "did i not tell you?" said shee-shee-banze to the maidens then, nodding with careless condescension, he added, "tell them i'll come." at night, shee-shee-banze dressed himself in his very best paint, feathers, and ornaments--but before his departure he took his grandmother aside. "be sure," said he, "that you watch these young people closely until i come back. shut up your lodge tight, _tight_. let no one come in or go out, and, above all things, do not go to sleep." these orders given, he went his way. the grandmother tried her best to keep awake, but finding herself growing more and more sleepy, as the night wore on, she took a strong cord and laced across the mat which hung before the entrance to the lodge, as the indians lace up the mouths of their bags, then, having seen all things secure and the girls quiet in bed, she lay down and soon fell into a comfortable sleep. the young girls, in the mean while, were dying with curiosity to know what had become of shee-shee-banze, and as soon as they were sure the old lady was asleep, they prepared to follow him and see what was going on. fearing, however, that the grandmother might awake and discover their absence, they took two logs of wood, and, putting them under the blanket, so disposed them as to present the appearance of persons sleeping quietly. they then cut the cords that fastened the door, and, guided by the sounds of the music, the dancing, and the merry-making, they soon found their way to the dwelling of way-gee-mar-kin. when they entered, they saw the chief seated on a throne, surrounded by light and splendor. everything was joy and amusement. crowds of courtiers were in the apartment, all dressed in the most brilliant array. the strangers looked around for their friend shee-shee-banze, but he was nowhere to be seen. now and then the chief would cough, when a shower of silver ornaments and precious things would fly in all directions, and instantly a scramble would commence among the company, to gather them up and appropriate them. as they thus rushed forward, the brides-elect saw their poor little friend crowded up into a corner, where nobody took any notice of him, except to push him aside, or step on him whenever he was in the way. he uttered piteous little squeaks as one and another would thus maltreat him, but he was too busy taking care of himself to perceive that those whom he had left snug at home in the lodge were witnesses of all that was going on. at length the signal was given for the company to retire, all but the two young damsels, upon whom way-gee-mar-kin had set his eye, and to whom he had sent, by one of his assistants, great offers to induce them to remain with him and become his wives. poor shee-shee-banze returned to his lodge, but what was his consternation to find the door open! "ho! grandmother," cried he, "is this the way you keep watch?" the old woman started up. "there are my daughters-in-law," said she, pointing to the two logs of wood. shee-shee-banze threw himself on the ground between them. his back was broken by coming so violently in contact with them, but that he did not mind--he thought only of revenge, and the recovery of his sweethearts. he waited but to get some powerful poison and prepare it, and then he stole softly back to the wigwam of way-gee-mar-kin. all was silent, and he crept in without making the slightest noise. there lay the chief, with a young girl on each side of him. they were all sound asleep, the chief lying on his back, with his mouth wide open. before he was aware of it, the poison was down his throat, and shee-shee-banze had retreated quietly to his own lodge. the next morning the cry went through the village that way-gee-mar-kin had been found dead in his bed. of course it was attributed to over-indulgence at the feast. all was grief and lamentation. "let us go and tell poor shee-shee-banze," said one, "he was so fond of way-gee-mar-kin." they found him sitting on a bank, fishing. he had been up at peep of day, to make preparation for receiving the intelligence. he had caught two or three fish, and, extracting their bladders, had filled them with blood, and tied them under his arm. when the friends of way-gee-mar-kin saw him, they called out to him,-- "oh! shee-shee-banze--your friend, way-gee-mar-kin, is dead!" with a gesture of despair, shee-shee-banze drew his knife and plunged it--not into his heart, but into the bladders filled with blood that he had prepared. as he fell, apparently lifeless, to the ground, the messengers began to reproach themselves: "oh! why did we tell him so suddenly? we might have known he would not survive it. poor shee-shee-banze! he loved way-gee-mar-kin so." to their great surprise, the day after the funeral, shee-shee-banze came walking towards the wigwam of the dead chief. as he walked, he sang, or rather chaunted to a monotonous strain,[ ] the following:-- "way-gee-mar-kin is dead, is dead, i know who killed him. i guess it was i--i guess it was i." all the village was aroused. everybody flew in pursuit of the murderer, but he evaded them, and escaped to a place of safety. soon after, he again made his appearance, mincing as he walked, and singing to the same strain as before,-- "if you wish to take and punish me, let the widows come and catch me." it seemed a good idea, and the young women were recommended to go and entice the culprit into the village, so that the friends of the deceased could lay hold of him. they went forth on their errand. shee-shee-banze would suffer them to approach, then he would dance off a little--now he would allow them to come quite near; anon he would retreat a little before them, all the time singing, "come, pretty widows, come and catch me." thus he decoyed them on, occasionally using honeyed words and flattering speeches, until he had gained their consent to return with him to his lodge, and take up their abode with him. the friends of the murdered chief were scandalized at such inconstancy, and resolved to punish all three, as soon as they could catch them. they surrounded his lodge with cries and threatenings, but shee-shee-banze and his two brides had contrived to elude their vigilance and gain his canoe, which lay in the river, close at hand. hardly were they on board when their escape was discovered. the whole troop flew after them. some plunged into the stream, and seized the canoe. in the struggle it was upset, but immediately on touching the water, whether from the magical properties of the canoe, or the necromantic skill of the grandmother, they were transformed into ducks, and flew quacking away. since that time the water-fowl of this species are always found in companies of three--two females and a male. * * * * * the _canard de france_, or mallard, and the _brancheuse_, or wood duck, are of different habits from the foregoing, flying in pairs. indeed, the constancy of the latter is said to be so great that if he loses his mate he never takes another partner, but goes mourning to the end of his days. chapter xxxi. a visit to green bay--ma-zhee-gaw-gaw swamp. the payment over, and the indians dispersed, we prepared ourselves to settle down quietly in our little home. but now a new source of disturbance arose. my husband's accounts of disbursements as agent of the winnebagoes, which he had forwarded to the department at washington, had failed to reach there, of which he received due notice--that is to say, such a notice as could reach us by the circuitous and uncertain mode of conveyance by which intercourse with the eastern world was then kept up. if the vouchers for the former expenditures, together with the recent payment of $ , annuity money, should not be forthcoming, it might place him in a very awkward position; he therefore decided to go at once to washington, and be the bearer himself of his duplicate accounts. "should you like to go and see your father and mother," said he to me, one morning, "and show them how the west agrees with you?" it was a most joyful suggestion after a year's separation, and in a few days all things were in readiness for our departure. there was visiting us, at that time, miss brush, of detroit, who had come from green bay with mr. and mrs. whitney and miss frances henshaw, on an excursion to the mississippi. our little india-rubber house had contrived to expand itself for the accommodation of the whole party during the very pleasant visit they made us. the arrival of two young ladies had been, as may be imagined, quite a godsend to the unmarried lieutenants, and when, tired of the journey, or intimidated by the snow, which fell eight inches on the th of october, miss brush determined to give up the remainder of her excursion, and accept our pressing invitation to remain with us until the return of her friends, we were looked upon as public benefactors. she was now to accompany us to green bay, and possibly to detroit. our voyage down the river was without incident, and we reached green bay just as all the place was astir in the expectation of the arrival of one of mr. newbery's schooners. this important event was the subject of interest to the whole community, from fort howard to "dickenson's." to some its arrival would bring friends, to some supplies--to the ladies, the fashions, to the gentlemen, the news, for it was the happy bearer of the mails, not for that place alone, but for all the "upper country." in a few days the vessel arrived. she brought a mail for fort winnebago, it being only in the winter season that letters were carried by land to that place, via _niles's settlement_ and chicago. in virtue of his office as postmaster, my husband opened the mail-bag, and took possession of his own letters. one informed him of the satisfactory appearance at the department of the missing accounts, but oh! sad disappointment, another brought the news that my parents had gone to kentucky for the winter--not to any city or accessible place, but "up the sandy," and over among the mountains of virginia, hunting up old land-claims belonging to my grandfather's estate. it was vain to hope to follow them. we might hardly expect to find them during the short period we could be absent from home--not even were we to receive the lucid directions once given my father by an old settler during his explorations through that wild region. "you must go up _tug_," said the man, "and down _troublesome_, and fall over on to _kingdom-come_."[ ] we did not think it advisable to undertake such an expedition, and therefore made up our minds to retrace our steps to fort winnebago. no boats were in readiness to ascend the river. our old friend hamilton promised to have one in preparation at once, but time passed by, and no boat was made ready. it was now the beginning of november. we were passing our time very pleasantly with the irwins and whitneys, and at the residence of colonel stambaugh, the indian agent, but still this delay was inconvenient and vexatious. i suggested undertaking the journey on horseback. "no, indeed," was the answer i invariably received. "no mortal woman has ever gone that road, unless it was some native on foot, nor ever could." "but suppose we set out in the boat and get frozen in on the way. we can neither pass the winter there, nor possibly find our way to a human habitation. we have had one similar experience already. is it not better to take it for granted that i can do what you and others of your sex have done?" dr. finley, the post-surgeon at fort howard, on hearing the matter debated, offered me immediately his favorite horse charlie. "he is very sure-footed," the doctor alleged, "and capital in a marsh or troublesome stream." by land, then, it was decided to go; and as soon as our old menomonee friend "wish-tay-yun," who was as good a guide by land as by water, could be summoned, we set off, leaving our trunks to be forwarded by hamilton whenever it should please him to carry out his intention of sending up his boat. we waited until a late hour on the morning of our departure for our fellow-travellers, mr. wing, of monroe, and dr. philleo, of galena; but, finding they did not join us, we resolved to lose no time, confident that we should all meet at the kakalin in the course of the evening. after crossing the river at what is now depere, and entering the wild, unsettled country on the west of the river, we found a succession of wooded hills, separated by ravines so narrow and steep that it seemed impossible that any animals but mules or goats could make their way among them. wish-tay-yun took the lead. the horse he rode was accustomed to the country, and well trained to this style of road. as for charlie, he was perfectly admirable. when he came to a precipitous descent, he would set forward his forefeet, and slide down on his haunches in the most scientific manner, while my only mode of preserving my balance was to hold fast by the bridle and lay myself braced almost flat against his back. then our position would suddenly change, and we would be scaling the opposite bank, at the imminent risk of falling backward into the ravine below. it was amusing to see wish-tay-yun, as he scrambled on ahead, now and then turning partly round to see how i fared. and when, panting and laughing, i at length reached the summit, he would throw up his hands, and shout, with the utmost glee, "mamma manitou!" (my mother is a spirit.) our old acquaintances, the grignons, seemed much surprised that i should have ventured on such a journey. they had never undertaken it, although they had lived so long at the kakalin; but then there was no reason why they should have done so. they could always command a canoe or a boat when they wished to visit "the bay." as we had anticipated, our gentlemen joined us at supper. "they had delayed to take dinner with colonel stambaugh--had had a delightful gallop up from: the bay--had seen no ravines, nor anything but fine smooth roads--might have been asleep, but, if so, were not conscious of it." this was the account they gave of themselves, to our no small amusement. from the kakalin to the butte des morts, where lived a man named knaggs, was our next day's stage. the country was rough and wild, much like that we had passed through the spring before, in going from hamilton's diggings to kellogg's grove, but we were fortunate in having wish-tay-yun, rather than "uncle billy," for our guide, so that we could make our way with some degree of moderation. we had travelled but forty miles when we reached knaggs's, yet i was both cold and fatigued, so that the cosy little room in which we found mrs. knaggs, and the bright fire, were most cheering objects; and, as we had only broken our fast since morning with a few crackers we carried in our pockets, i must own we did ample justice to her nice coffee and cakes, not to mention venison-steaks and bear's meat, the latter of which i had never before tasted. our supper over, we looked about for a place of repose. the room in which we had taken our meal was of small dimensions, just sufficient to accommodate a bed, a table placed against the wall, and the few chairs on which we sat. there was no room for any kind of a "shakedown." "where can you put us for the night?" inquired my husband of mr. knaggs, when he made his appearance. "why, there is no place that i know of, unless you can camp down in the old building outside." we went to look at it. it consisted of one room, bare and dirty. a huge chimney, in which a few brands were burning, occupied nearly one side of the apartment. against another was built a rickety sort of bunk. this was the only vestige of furniture to be seen. the floor was thickly covered with mud and dirt, in the midst of which, near the fire, was seated an old indian with a pan of boiled corn on his lap, which he was scooping up with both hands and devouring with the utmost voracity. we soon discovered that he was blind. on hearing footsteps and voices, he instinctively gathered his dish of food close to him, and began some morose grumblings; but when he was told that it was "shaw-nee-aw-kee" who was addressing him, his features relaxed into a more agreeable expression, and be even held forth his dish and invited us to share its contents. "but are we to stay here?" i asked. "can we not sleep out-of-doors?" "we have no tent," replied my husband, "and the weather is too cold to risk the exposure without one." "i could sit in a chair all night, by the fire." "then you would not be able to ride to bellefontaine to-morrow." there was no alternative. the only thing mr. knaggs could furnish in the shape of bedding was a small bear-skin. the bunk was a trifle less filthy than the floor; so upon its boards we spread first the skin, then our saddle-blankets, and, with a pair of saddle-bags for a bolster, i wrapped myself in my cloak, and resigned myself to my distasteful accommodations. the change of position from that i had occupied through the day, probably brought some rest, but sleep i could not. even on a softer and more agreeable couch, the snoring of the old indian and two or three companions who had joined him, and his frequent querulous exclamations as he felt himself encroached upon in the darkness, would have effectually banished slumber from my eyes. it was a relief to rise with early morning and prepare for the journey of the day. where our fellow-travellers had bestowed themselves i knew not, but they evidently had fared no better than we. they were in fine spirits, however, and we cheerfully took our breakfast and were ferried over the river to continue on the trail from that point to bellefontaine, twelve miles distant from fort winnebago. the great "bug-bear" of this road, ma-zhee-gaw-gaw swamp, was the next thing to be encountered. we reached it about nine o'clock. it spread before us, a vast expanse of morass, about half a mile in width, and of length interminable, partly covered with water, with black knobs rising here and there above the surface, affording a precarious foothold for the animals in crossing it. where the water was not, there lay in place of it a bed of black oozy mud, which looked as if it might give way under the foot, and let it, at each step, sink to an unknown depth. this we were now to traverse. all three of the gentlemen went in advance of me, each hoping, as he said, to select the surest and firmest path for me to follow. one and another would call, "here, madam, come this way!" "this is the best path, wifie; follow me," but often charlie knew better than either, and selected a path according to his own judgment, which proved the best of the whole. on he went, picking his way so slowly and cautiously, now pausing on one little hillock, now on another, and anon turning aside to avoid a patch of mud which seemed more than usually suspicious, that all the company had got some little distance ahead of me. on raising my eyes, which had been kept pretty closely on my horse's footsteps, i saw my husband on foot, striving to lead his horse by the bridle from a difficult position into which he had got, mr. wing and his great white floundering animal lying sideways in the mud, the rider using all his efforts to extricate himself from the stirrups, and dr. philleo standing at a little distance from his steed, who was doing his best to rise up from a deep bog into which he had pitched himself. it was a formidable sight! they all called out with one accord,-- "oh, do not come this way!" "indeed," cried i, "i have no thought of it. charlie and i know better." and, trusting to the sagacious creature, he picked his way carefully along, and carried me safely past the dismounted company. i could not refrain from a little triumphant flourish with my whip, as i looked back upon them and watched their progress to their saddles once more. three hours had we been thus unpleasantly engaged, and yet we were not over the "slough of despond." at length we drew near its farthest verge. here ran a deep stream some five or six feet in width. the gentlemen, as they reached it, dismounted, and began debating what was to be done. "jump off, jump off, madam," cried mr. wing, and "jump off, jump off," echoed dr. philleo; "we are just consulting how we are to get you across." "what do you think about it?" asked my husband. "charlie will show you," replied i. "come, charlie." and as i raised his bridle quickly, with a pat on his neck and an encouraging chirp, he bounded over the stream as lightly as a deer, and landed me safe on _terra firma_. poor mr. wing had fared the worst of the company; the clumsy animal he rode seeming to be of opinion when he got into a difficulty that he had nothing to do but to lie down and resign himself to his fate; while his rider, not being particularly light and agile, was generally undermost, and half imbedded in the mire before he had quite made up his mind as to his course of action. it was therefore a wise movement in him, when he reached the little stream, to plunge into it and wade across, thus washing out, as much as possible, the traces of the morning's adventures from himself and his steed; and the other gentlemen, having no alternative, concluded to follow his example. we did not halt long on the rising ground beyond the morass, for we had a long stretch before us to bellefontaine, forty-five miles, and those none of the shortest. our horses travelled admirably the whole afternoon, charlie keeping a canter all the way; but it was growing dark, and there were no signs of the landmarks which were to indicate our near approach to the desired haven. "can we not stop and rest for a few moments under one of the trees?" inquired i, for i was almost exhausted with fatigue, and, to add to our discomfort, a cold, november rain was pouring upon us. "if it were possible, we would," was the reply; "but see how dark it is growing. if we should lose our way, it would be worse than being wet and tired." so we kept on. just at dark we crossed a clear stream. "that," said my husband, "is, i think, two miles from bellefontaine. cheer up--we shall soon be there." quite encouraged, we pursued our way more cheerfully. mile after mile we passed, but still no light gleamed friendly through the trees. "we have certainly travelled more than six miles now," said i. "yes--that could not have been the two-mile creek." it was eight o'clock when we reached bellefontaine. we were ushered into a large room made cheerful by a huge blazing fire. mr. wing and dr. philleo had arrived before us, and there were other travellers, on their way from the mississippi. i was received with great kindness and volubility by the immense hostess, "la grosse américaine," as she was called, and she soon installed me in the arm-chair, in the warmest corner, and in due time set an excellent supper before us. but her hospitality did not extend to giving up her only bed for my accommodation. she spread all the things she could muster on the hard floor before the fire, and did what she could to make me comfortable; then, observing my husband's solicitude lest i might feel ill from the effects of the fatigue and rain, she remarked, in tones of admiring sympathy, "how kind your _companion_ is to you!"--an expression which, as it was then new to us, amused us not a little. our travelling companions started early in the morning for the fort, which was but twelve miles distant, and they were so kind as to take charge of a note to our friends at home, requesting them to send plante with the carriage to take us the rest of the distance. we reached the portage in safety; and thus ended the first journey by land that any white woman had made from green bay to fort winnebago. i felt not a little raised in my own esteem when my husband informed me that the distance i had the previous day travelled, from knaggs's to bellefontaine, was sixty-two miles! chapter xxxii. commencement of the sauk war. a few weeks after our return, my husband took his mother to prairie du chien for the benefit of medical advice from dr. beaumont, of the u.s. army. the journey was made in a large open boat down the wisconsin river, and it was proposed to take this opportunity to bring back a good supply of corn for the winter's use of both men and cattle. the ice formed in the river, however, so early, that after starting with his load he was obliged to return with it to the prairie, and wait until the thick winter's ice enabled him to make a second journey and bring it up in sleighs--with so great an expense of time, labor, and exposure were the necessaries of life conveyed from one point to another through that wild and desolate region! * * * * * the arrival of my brother arthur from kentucky, by way of the mississippi, in the latter part of april, brought us the uncomfortable intelligence of new troubles with the sauks and foxes. black hawk had, with the flower of his nation, recrossed the mississippi, once more to take possession of their old homes and corn-fields.[ ] it was not long before our own indians came flocking in, to confirm the tidings, and to assure us of their intention to remain faithful friends to the americans. we soon heard of the arrival of the illinois rangers in the rock river country, also of the progress of the regular force under general atkinson, in pursuit of the hostile indians, who, by the reports, were always able to elude their vigilance. it not being their custom to stop and give battle, the sauks soon scattered themselves through the country, trusting to some lucky accident (and such arrived, alas! only too often) to enable them to fall upon their enemies unexpectedly. the experience of the pursuing army was, for the most part, to make their way, by toilsome and fatiguing marches, to the spot where they imagined the sauks would be waiting to receive them, and then to discover that the rogues had scampered off to quite a different part of the country. wherever these latter went, their course was marked by the most atrocious barbarities, though the worst had not, at this time, reached our ears. we were only assured that they were down in the neighborhood of the rock river and kishwaukee, and that they lost no opportunity of falling upon the defenceless inhabitants and cruelly murdering them. as soon as it became certain that the sauks and foxes would not pursue the same course they had on the previous year, that is, retreat peaceably across the mississippi, mr. kinzie resolved to hold a council with all the principal chiefs of the winnebagoes who were accessible at this time. he knew that the sauks would use every effort to induce their neighbors to join them, and that there existed in the breasts of too many of the young savages a desire to distinguish themselves by "taking some white scalps." they did not love the americans--why should they? by them they had been gradually dispossessed of the broad and beautiful domains of their forefathers, and hunted from place to place, and the only equivalent they had received in exchange had been a few thousands annually in silver and presents, together with the pernicious example, the debasing influence, and the positive ill treatment of too many of the new settlers upon their lands. with all these facts in view, therefore, their father felt that the utmost watchfulness was necessary, and that the strongest arguments must be brought forward, to preserve the young men of the winnebagoes in their allegiance to the americans. of the older members he felt quite sure. about fifty lodges had come at the commencement of the disturbances and encamped around our dwelling, saying that if the sauks attacked us it must be after killing them; and, knowing them well, we had perfect confidence in their assurances. but their vicinity, while it gave us a feeling of protection, likewise furnished us with a channel of the most exciting and agitating daily communications. as the theatre of operations approached nearer and nearer, intelligence was brought in by their runners--now, that "captain barney's head had been recognized in the sauk camp, where it had been brought the day previous," next, that "the sauks were carrying lieutenant beall's head on a pole in front of them as they marched to meet the whites." sometimes it was a story which we afterwards found to be unhappily true, as that of the murder of their agent, m. st vrain, at kellogg's grove, by the sauks themselves, who ought to have protected him. it was after the news of this last occurrence that the appointed council with the winnebagoes was to be held at the four lakes, thirty-five miles distant from fort winnebago. in vain we pleaded and remonstrated against such an exposure. "it was his duty to assemble his people and talk to them," my husband said, "and he must run the risk, if there were any. he had perfect confidence in the winnebagoes. the enemy, by all he could learn, were now far distant from the four lakes--probably at kosh-ko-nong. he would set off early in the morning with paquette, bold his council, and return to us the same evening." it were useless to attempt to describe our feelings during that long and dreary day. when night arrived, the cry of a drunken indian, or even the barking of a dog, would fill our hearts with terror. as we sat, at a late hour, at the open window, listening to every sound, with what joy did we at length distinguish the tramp of horses! we knew it to be griffin and jerry ascending the hill, and a cheerful shout soon announced that all was well. my husband and his interpreter had ridden seventy miles that day, besides holding a long "talk" with the indians. the winnebagoes in council had promised to use their utmost endeavors to preserve peace and good order among their young men. they informed their father that the bands on the rock river, with the exception of win-no-sheek's, were all determined to remain friendly and keep aloof from the sauks. to that end, they were abandoning their villages and corn-fields and moving north, that their great father, the president, might not feel dissatisfied with them. with regard to win-no-sheek and his people, they professed themselves unable to answer. time went on, and brought with it stories of fresh outrages. among these were the murders of auberry, green, and force, at blue mound, and the attack on apple fort. the tidings of the latter were brought by old crély,[ ] the father of mrs. paquette, who rode express from galena, and who averred that he once passed a bush behind which the sauks were hiding, but that his horse smelt the sweet-scented grass with which they always adorn their persons when on a war-party, and set out on such a gallop that he never stopped until he arrived at the portage. another bearer of news was a young gentleman named follett, whose eyes had become so protruded and set from keeping an anxious look-out for the enemy, that it was many days after his arrival at a place of safety before they resumed their accustomed limits and expression. among other rumors which at this time reached us, was one that an attack upon fort winnebago was in contemplation among the sauks. that this was in no state of defence the indians very well knew. all the effective men had been withdrawn, upon a requisition from general atkinson, to join him at his newly-built fort at kosh-ko-nong. fort winnebago was not picketed in; there were no defences to the barracks or officers' quarters, except slight panelled doors and venetian blinds--nothing that would long resist the blows of clubs or hatchets. there was no artillery, and the commissary's store was without the bounds of the fort, under the hill. mr. kinzie had, from the first, called the attention of the officers to the insecurity of their position in case of danger, but he generally received a scoffing answer. "never fear," they would say; "the sauks are not coming here to attack us." one afternoon we were over on a visit to some ladies in the garrison, and, several officers being present, the conversation, as usual, turned upon the present position of affairs. "do you not think it wiser," inquired i of a blustering young officer, "to be prepared against possible danger?" "not against these fellows," replied he, contemptuously. "i do not think i would even take the trouble to fasten the blinds to my quarters." "at least," said i, "if you some night find a tomahawk raised to cleave your skull, you will have the consolation of remembering that you have not been one of those foolish fellows who keep on the safe side." he seemed a little nettled at this, and still more so when sister margaret observed,-- "for my part, i am of governor cass's opinion. he was at chicago during the winnebago war. we were all preparing to move into the fort on the first alarm. some were for being brave and delaying, like our friends here. 'come, come,' said the governor, 'hurry into the fort as fast as possible--there is no merit in being brave with the indians. it is the height of folly to stay and meet danger which you may by prudence avoid.'" in a few days our friends waked up to the conviction that something must be done at once the first step was to forbid any winnebago coming within the garrison, lest they should find out what they had known as well as ourselves for three months past--namely, the feebleness of the means of resistance. the next was to send fatigue-parties into the woods, under the protection of a guard, to cut pickets for inclosing the garrison. there was every reason to believe that the enemy were not very far distant, and that their object in coming north was to break a way into the chippewa country, where they would find a place of security among their friends and allies. the story that our indian runners brought in most frequently was, that the sauks were determined to fall upon the whites at the portage and fort, and massacre all, except the families of the agent and interpreter. plante and pillon with their families had departed at the first word of danger. there only remained with us manaigre, whose wife was a half-winnebago, isidore morrin, and the blacksmiths from sugar creek--mâtâ and turcotte. at night we were all regularly armed and our posts assigned us. after every means had been taken to make the house secure, the orders were given. sister margaret and i, in case of attack, were to mount with the children to the rooms above, while my husband and his men were to make good their defence as long as possible against the enemy. since i had shown my sportsmanship by bringing down accidentally a blackbird on the wing, i felt as if i could do some execution with my little pistols, which were regularly placed beside my pillow at night; and i was fully resolved to use them, if necessity required. i do not remember to have felt the slightest compunction at the idea of taking the lives of two sauks, as i had no doubt i should do; and this explains to me what i had before often wondered at, the indifference, namely, of the soldier on the field of battle to the destruction of human life had i been called upon, however, to use my weapons effectually, i should no doubt have looked back upon it with horror. surrounded as we were by indian lodges, which seldom became perfectly quiet, and excited as our nerves had become by all that we were daily in the habit of hearing, we rarely slept very soundly. one night, after we had as much as possible composed ourselves, we were startled at a late hour by a tap upon the window at the head of our bed, and a call of "chon! chon!"[ ] (john! john!) "tshah-ko-zhah?" (what is it?) it was hoo-wau-ne-kah, the little elk. he spoke rapidly, and in a tone of great agitation. i could not understand him, and i lay trembling, and dreading to hear his errand interpreted. now and then i could distinguish the words sau-kee (sauks) and shoonk-hat-tay-rah (horse), and they were not very reassuring. the trouble, i soon learned, was this. a fresh trail had been observed near the petit rocher, on the wisconsin, and the people at the villages on the barribault were in a state of great alarm, fearing it might be the sauks. there was the appearance of a hundred or more horses having passed by this trail. hoo-wau-ne-kah had been dispatched at once to tell their father, and to ask his advice. after listening to all he had to communicate, his father told him the trail was undoubtedly that of general henry's troops, who were said to have come north, looking for the enemy; that as the marks of the horses' hoofs showed them, by this report, to have been shod, that was sufficient proof that it was not the trail of the sauks. he thought that the people at the villages need not feel any uneasiness. "very well, father," replied hoo-wau-ne-kah; "i will go back and tell my people what you say. they will believe you, for you always tell them the truth. you are not like us indians, who sometimes deceive each other." so saying, he returned to his friends, much comforted. the completion of the picketing and other defences, together with the arrival of a detachment of troops from fort howard under lieutenant hunter, at our fort, now seemed to render the latter the place of greatest safety. we therefore regularly, every evening immediately before dusk, took up our line of march for the opposite side of the river, and repaired to quarters that had been assigned us within the garrison, leaving our own house and chattels to the care of the frenchmen and our friends the winnebagoes. it was on one of these days that we were sitting at the windows which looked out over the portage--indeed, we seldom sat anywhere else, our almost sole occupation being to look abroad and see what was coming next--when a loud, long, shrill whoop from a distance gave notice of something to be heard. "the news-halloo! what could it portend? what were we about to hear?" by gazing intently towards the farthest extremity of the road, we could perceive a moving body of horsemen, which, as they approached, we saw to be indians. they were in full costume. scarlet streamers fluttered at the ends of their lances--their arms glittered in the sun. presently, as they drew nearer, their paint and feathers and brooches became visible. there were fifty or more warriors. they passed the road which turns to the fort, and rode directly up the hill leading to the agency. shaw-nee-aw-kee was absent. the interpreter had been sent for on the first distant appearance of the strangers, but had not yet arrived. the party, having ascended the hill, halted near the blacksmith's shop, but did not dismount. our hearts trembled--it must surely be the enemy. at this moment my husband appeared from the direction of the interpreter's house. we called to entreat him to stop, but he walked along towards the new-comers. to our infinite joy, we saw the chief of the party dismount, and all the others following his example and approaching to shake hands. a space was soon cleared around the leader and my husband, when the former commenced an oration, flourishing his sword and using much violent gesticulation. it was the first time i had seen an indian armed with that weapon, and i dreaded to perceive it in such hands. sometimes he appeared as if he were about to take off the head of his auditor at a blow; and our hearts sank as we remembered the stratagems at mackinac and detroit in former days. at length the speech was concluded, another shaking of hands took place, and we saw my husband leading the way to his storehouse, from which some of his men presently brought tobacco and pipes and laid them at the feet of the chief. our suspense was soon relieved by being informed that the strangers were man-eater, the principal chief of the rock river indians, who had come with his band to "hold a talk" and bring information. these indians were under the special care of mr. henry gratiot, and his efforts had been most judicious and unremitting in preserving the good feeling of this the most dangerous portion of the winnebagoes. the intelligence that man-eater, who was a most noble indian in appearance and character, brought us, confirmed that already received, namely, that the sauks were gradually drawing north, towards the portage, although he evidently did not know exactly their whereabouts. there was, soon after they had taken leave, an arrival of another party of winnebagoes, and these requested permission to dance for their father. the compliment having been accepted, they assembled, as usual, on the esplanade in front of the house. my sister, the children, and myself stationed ourselves at the open windows, according to custom, and my husband sat on the broad step before the door, which opened from the outer air directly into the parlor where we were. the performance commenced, and as the dancers proceeded, following each other round and round in the progress of the dance, my sister, mrs. helm, remarked to me, "look at that small, dark indian, with the green boughs on his person--that is _a sauk!_ they always mark themselves in this manner with white clay, and ornament themselves with leaves when they dance!" in truth, i had never seen this costume among our own indians, and as i gazed at this one with green chaplets round his head and his legs, and even his gun wreathed in the same manner, while his body displayed no paint except the white transverse streaks with which it was covered, i saw that he was, indeed, a stranger. without owing anything to the exaggeration of fear, his countenance was truly ferocious. he held his gun in his hand, and every time the course of the dance brought him directly in front of where we sat, he would turn his gaze full upon us, and club his weapon before him with what we interpreted into an air of defiance. we sat as still as death, for we knew it would not be wise to exhibit any appearance of fear; but my sister remarked, in a low tone, "i have always thought that i was to lose my life by the hands of the indians. this is the third indian war i have gone through, and now, i suppose, it will be the last." it was the only time i ever saw her lose her self-possession. she was always remarkably calm and resolute, but now i could see that she trembled. still we sat there--there was a sort of fascination as our imaginations became more and more excited. presently some rain-drops began to fall. the indians continued their dance for a few minutes longer, then, with whoopings and shoutings, they rushed simultaneously towards the house. we fled into my apartment and closed the door, which my sister at first held fast, but she presently came and seated herself by me on the bed, for she saw that i could not compose myself. of all forms of death, that by the hands of savages is the most difficult to face calmly; and i fully believed that our hour was come. there was no interruption to the dance, which the indians carried on in the parlor, leaping and yelling as if they would bring down the roof over our heads. in vain we tried to persuade my husband and the children, through a crevice of the door, to come and join us. the latter, feeling no danger, were too much delighted with the exhibition to leave it, and the former only came for a moment to reassure me, and then judged it wisest to return, and manifest his satisfaction at the compliment by his presence. he made light of our fears, and would not admit that the object of our suspicions was in fact a sauk, but only some young winnebago, who had, as is sometimes the custom, imitated them in costume and appearance. it may have been "good fun" to him to return to his village and tell how he frightened "the white squaws." such a trick would not be unnatural in a white youth, and perhaps, since human nature is everywhere the same, it might not be out of the way in an indian. chapter xxxiii. fleeing from the indians. the danger had now become so imminent that my husband determined to send his family to fort howard, a point which was believed to be far out of the range of the enemy. it was in vain that i pleaded to be permitted to remain; he was firm. "i must not leave my post," said he, "while there is any danger. my departure would perhaps be the signal for an immediate alliance of the winnebagoes with the sauks. i am certain that as long as i am here my presence will act as a restraint upon them. you wish to remain and share my dangers! your doing so would expose us both to certain destruction in case of attack by the aid of my friends in both tribes, i could hope to preserve my own life if i were alone; but surrounded by my family, that would be impossible--we should all fall victims together. my duty plainly is, to send you to a place of safety." an opportunity for doing this soon occurred. paquette, the interpreter, who was likewise an agent of the american fur company, had occasion to send a boat-load of furs to green bay, on their way to mackinac. mr. kinzie, having seen it as comfortably fitted up as an open boat of that description could be, with a tent-cloth fastened on a frame-work of hoop-poles over the centre and lined with a dark-green blanket, and having placed on board an abundant store of provisions and other comforts, committed us to the joint care of my brother arthur and our faithful blacksmith, mâtâ. this latter was a tall, gaunt frenchman, with a freckled face, a profusion of crisp, sandy hair, and an inveterate propensity to speak english. his knowledge of the language was somewhat limited, and he burlesqued it by adding an s to almost every word, and giving out each phrase with a jerk. "davids," he was wont to say to the little yellow fiddler, after an evening's frolic at the interpreter's, "davids, clear away the tables and the glasses, and play _fishes-hornspikes."_[ ] he was a kind, affectionate creature, and his devotion to "monsieur johns" and "madame johns" knew no bounds. besides these two protectors, three trusty indians, the chief of whom was called _old smoker_, were engaged to escort our party. the crew of the boat consisted entirely of french engagés in the service of the fur company. they were six gay-hearted, merry fellows, lightening their labor with their pipe and their songs, in which latter they would have esteemed it a great compliment to be joined by the ladies who listened to them; but our hearts, alas! were now too heavy to participate in their enjoyment. the fourth of july, the day on which we left our home, was a gloomy one indeed to those who departed and to the one left behind. who knew if we should ever meet again? the experience which some of the circle had had in indian warfare was such as to justify the saddest forebodings. there was not even the consolation of a certainty that this step would secure our safety. the sauks might, possibly, be on the other side of us, and the route we were taking might perhaps, though not probably, carry us into their very midst. it was no wonder, then, that our leave-taking was a solemn one--a parting which all felt might be for this world. not _all_, however; for the gay, cheerful frenchmen laughed and sang and cracked their jokes, and "assured monsieur john that they would take madame john and madame alum safe to the bay, spite of sauks or wind or weather." thus we set out on our journey. for many miles the fort was in sight, as the course of the river alternately approached and receded from its walls, and it was not until nearly mid-day that we caught the last glimpse of our home. at the noon-tide meal, or pipe, of the voyageurs, an alarming discovery was made: no bread had been put on board for the crew! how this oversight had occurred, no one could tell. one was certain that a large quantity had been brought from the garrison-bakery for their use that very morning--another had even seen the sacks of loaves standing in paquette's kitchen. be that as it may, there we were, many miles on our journey, and with no provisions for the six frenchmen, except some salted pork, a few beans, and some onions. a consultation was held in this emergency. should they return to the portage for supplies? the same danger that made their departure necessary, still existed, and the utmost dispatch had been enjoined upon them. we found upon examination that the store of bread and crackers with which our party had been provided was far-beyond what we could possibly require, and we thought it would be sufficient to allow of rations to the frenchmen until we should reach powell's, at the butte des morts, the day but one following, where we should undoubtedly be able to procure a fresh supply. this decided on, we proceeded on our journey, always in profound silence, for a song or a loud laugh was now strictly prohibited until we should have passed the utmost limits of country where the enemy might possibly be. we had been warned beforehand that a certain point, where the low marshy meadows, through which the river had hitherto run, rises into a more firm and elevated country, was the border of the menomonee territory, and the spot where the sauks, if they had fled north of the wisconsin towards the chippewa country, would be most likely to be encountered. as we received intimation on the forenoon of the second day that we were drawing near this spot, i must confess that "we held our breath for awe." the three winnebagoes were in the bow of the boat. old smoker, the chief, squatted upon his feet on the bench of the foremost rowers. we looked at him. he was gazing intently in the direction of the wooded point we were approaching. our eyes followed his, and we saw three indians step forward and stand upon the bank. we said in a low voice to each other, "if they are sauks, we are lost, for the whole body must be in that thicket." the boat continued to approach; not a word was spoken; the dip of the paddle, and perhaps the beating hearts of some, were the only sounds that broke the stillness. again we looked at the chief. his nostrils were dilated--his eyes almost glaring. suddenly, with a bound, he sprang to his feet and uttered his long, shrill whoop. "hoh! hoh! hoh! neechee (friend) _muh-no-mo-nee!_" all was now joy and gladness. every one was forward to shake hands with the strangers as soon as we could reach them, in token of our satisfaction that they were menomonees and not sauks, of the latter of whom, by the way, they could give us no intelligence. by noon of that day we considered ourselves to be out of the region of danger. still, caution was deemed necessary, and when at the mid-day pipe the boat was pushed ashore under a beautiful overhanging bank, crowned with a thick wood, the usual vigilance was somewhat relaxed, and the young people, under the escort of arthur and mâtâ, were permitted to roam about a little, in the vicinity of the boat. they soon came back, with the report that the woods were "alive with pigeons,"--they could almost knock them down with sticks; and earnestly did they plead to be allowed to shoot at least enough for supper. but no--the enemy might be nearer than we imagined--the firing of a gun would betray our whereabouts--it was most prudent to give no notice to friend or foe. so, very reluctantly, they were compelled to return to the boat without their game. the next morning brought us to powell's, at the butte des morts. sad were the faces of the poor frenchmen at learning that not a loaf of bread was to be had. our own store, too, was by this time quite exhausted. the only substitute we could obtain was a bag of dark looking, bitter flour. with this provision for our whole party, we were forced to be contented, and we left the hillock of the dead, feeling that it had been indeed the grave of our hopes. by dint of good rowing, our crew soon brought us to the spot where the river enters that beautiful sheet of water, winnebago lake. though there was but little wind when we reached the lake, the frenchmen hoisted their sail, in hopes to save themselves the labor of rowing across; but in vain did they whistle, with all the force of their lungs--in vain did they supplicate _la vierge_, with a comical mixture of fun and reverence. as a last resource, it was at length suggested by some one that their only chance lay in propitiating the goddess of the winds with an offering of some cast-off garment. application was made all round by guardapié, the chief spokesman of the crew. alas! not one of the poor voyageurs could boast a spare article. a few old rags were at length rummaged out of the little receptacle of food, clothing, and dirt in the bow of the boat, and cast into the waves for a moment all flattered themselves that the experiment had been successful--the sail fluttered, swelled a little, and then flapped idly down against the mast. the party were in despair, until, after a whispered consultation together, julian and edwin stepped forward as messengers of mercy. in a trice they divested themselves of jacket and vest and made a proffer of their next garment to aid in raising the wind. at first there seemed a doubt in the minds of the boatmen whether they ought to accept so magnificent an offer; but finding, on giving them a preparatory shake, that the value of the contribution was less than they had imagined, they, with many shouts and much laughter, consigned them to the waves. to the great delight and astonishment of the boys, a breeze at this moment sprang up, which carried the little vessel beautifully over the waters for about half the distance to garlic island. by this time the charm was exhausted, nor was it found possible to renew it by a repetition of similar offerings. all expedients were tried without success, and, with sundry rather disrespectful reflections upon the lady whose aid they had invoked, the frenchmen were compelled to betake themselves to their oars, until they reached the island. two or three canoes of winnebagoes arrived at the same moment, and their owners immediately stepped forward with an offering of some sturgeon which they had caught in the lake. as this promised to be an agreeable variety to the noon-tide meal (at least for the frenchmen), it was decided to stop and kindle a fire for the purpose of cooking it. we took advantage of this interval to recommend to the boys a stroll to the opposite side of the island, where the clear, shallow water and pebbly beach offered temptation to a refreshing bath. while they availed themselves of this, under the supervision of harry, the black boy, we amused ourselves with gathering the fine red raspberries with which the island abounded. our enjoyment was cut short, however, by discovering that the whole place, vines, shrubs, and even, apparently, the earth itself, was infested with myriads of the wood-tick, a little insect, that, having fastened to the skin, penetrates into the very flesh, causing a swelling and irritation exceeding painful, and even dangerous. the alarm was sounded, to bring the boys back in all haste to the open and more frequented part of the island. but we soon found we had not left our tormentors behind. throughout the day we continued to be sensible of their proximity. from the effects of their attacks we were not relieved for several succeeding days; those which had succeeded in burying themselves in the flesh having to be removed with the point of a penknife or a large needle. after partaking of our dinner, we stepped on board our boat, and, the wind having risen, we were carried by the breeze to the farther verge of the lake, and into the entrance of the river, or, as it was called, the winnebago rapids. on the point of land to the right stood a collection of neat bark wigwams--this was four-legs' village. it was an exciting and somewhat hazardous passage down the rapids and over the grand chûte, a fall of several feet; but it was safely passed, and at the approach of evening the boat reached the settlement of the waubanakees at the head of the little chûte. these are the stockbridge or brothertown indians, the remains of the old mohicans, who had, a few years before, emigrated from oneida county, in the state of new york, to a tract granted them by the united states, on the fertile banks of the fox river. they had already cleared extensive openings in the forest, and built some substantial and comfortable houses near the banks of the river, which were here quite high, and covered for the most part with gigantic trees. it was determined to ask hospitality of these people, to the extent of borrowing a corner of their fire to boil our tea-kettle, and bake the short-cake which had been now, for nearly two days, our substitute for bread. its manufacture had been a subject of much merriment. the ingredients, consisting of powell's black flour, some salt, and a little butter, were mixed in the tin box which had held our meat. this was then reversed, and, having been properly cleansed, supplied the place of a dough-board. the vinegar-bottle served the office of rolling-pin, and a shallow tin dish formed the appliance for baking. the waubanakees were so good as to lend us an iron bake-kettle, and superintend the cooking of our cake after harry had carried it up to their dwelling. so kind and hospitable did they show themselves, that the crew of the boat took the resolution of asking a lodging on shore, by way of relief after their crowded quarters in the boat for the last three nights. arthur and mâtâ soon adopted the same idea, and we were invited to follow their example, with the assurance that the houses were extremely neat and orderly. we preferred, however, as it was a fine night, and all things were so comfortably arranged in the boat, to remain on board, keeping edwin and josette with us. the boat was tightly moored, for the little chûte was just below, and if our craft should break loose in the rapid current, and drift down over the falls, it would be a very serious matter. as an additional precaution, one man was left on board to keep all things safe and in order, and, these arrangements having been made, the others ascended the bank, and took up their night's lodgings in the waubanakee cabins. it was a beautiful, calm, moonlight night, the air just sufficiently warm to be agreeable, while the gentle murmur of the rapids and of the fall, at no great distance, soon lulled our party to repose. how long we had slumbered we knew not, when we were aroused by a rushing wind. it bent the poles supporting the awning, snapped them, and, another gust succeeding, tent and blanket were carried away on the blast down the stream. the moonlight was gone, but a flash of lightning showed them sailing away like a spectre in the distance. the storm increased in violence. the rain began to pour in torrents, and the thunder and lightning to succeed each other in fearful rapidity. my sister sprang to waken the frenchman. "get up, vitelle, quick," cried she, in french, "run up the bank for mâtâ and mr. arthur--tell them to come and get us instantly." the man made her no reply, but fell upon his knees, invoking the virgin most vociferously. "do not wait for the virgin, but go as quickly as possible. do you not see we shall all be killed?" "oh! not for the world, madame, not for the world," said vitelle, burying his head in a pack of furs, "would i go up that bank in this storm." and here he began crying most lustily to all the saints in the calendar. it was indeed awful. the roaring of the thunder and the flashing of the lightning around us were like the continued discharge of a park of artillery. i with some difficulty drew forth my cloak, and enveloped myself and josette--sister margaret did the same with edwin. "oh i madame," said the poor little girl, her teeth chattering with cold and fright, "won't we be drowned?" "very well," said my sister to the frenchman, "you see that madame john is at the last agony--if you will not go for help i must, and monsieur john must know that you left his wife to perish." this was too much for vitelle. "if i must, i must," said he, and with a desperate bound he leaped on shore and sped up the hill with might and main. in a few minutes, though it seemed ages to us, a whole posse came flying down the hill. the incessant lightning made all things appear as in the glare of day. mâtâ's curly hair fairly stood on end, and his eyes rolled with ghastly astonishment at the spectacle. "oh, my god, madame johns! what would monsieur johns say, to see you nows?" exclaimed he, as he seized me in his arms and bore me up the hill. arthur followed with sister margaret, and two others with edwin and josette. nobody carried vitelle, for he had taken care not to risk his precious life by venturing again to the boat. on arriving at the cabin where arthur and mâtâ had been lodged, a fire was, with some difficulty, kindled, and our trunks having been brought up from the boat, we were at length able to exchange our drenched garments, and those of the children, for others more comfortable, after which we laid ourselves upon the clean but homely bed, and slept until daylight. as it was necessary to ascertain what degree of damage the cargo of furs had sustained, an early start was proposed. apparently, the inhabitants of the cottages had become weary in well-doing, for they declined preparing breakfast for us, although we assured them they should be well compensated for their trouble. we, consequently, saw ourselves compelled to depart with very slender prospects of a morning meal. when we reached the boat, what a scene presented itself! bedclothes, cloaks, trunks, mess-basket, packs of furs, all bearing the marks of a complete deluge! the boat ankle-deep in water--literally no place on board where we could either stand or sit. after some bailing out, and an attempt at disposing some of the packs of furs which had suffered least from the flood, so as to form a sort of divan in the centre of the boat, nothing better seemed to offer than to re-embark, and endure what could not be cured. our position was not an enviable one. wherever a foot or hand was placed, the water gushed up, with a bubbling sound, and, oh! the state of the bandboxes and work-baskets! breakfast there was none, for on examining the mess-basket everything it contained was found mingled in one undistinguishable mass. tea, pepper, salt, short-cake, all floating together--it was a hopeless case. but this was not the worst. as the fervid july sun rose higher in the heavens, the steam which exhaled from every object on board was nearly suffocating. the boat was old--the packs of skins were old--their vicinity in a dry day had been anything but agreeable--now it was intolerable. there was no retreating from it, however; so we encouraged the children to arm themselves with patience, for the short time that yet remained of our voyage. seated on our odoriferous couch, beneath the shade of a single umbrella, to protect our whole party from the scorching sun, we glided wearily down the stream, through that long, tedious day. as we passed successively the kakalin, the rapids, dickenson's, the agency, with what longing eyes did we gaze at human habitations, where others were enjoying the shelter of a roof and the comforts of food--and how eagerly did we count the hours which must elapse before we could reach port howard! there were no songs from the poor frenchmen this day. music and fasting do not go well together. at length we stopped at shanty-town, where the boat was to be unloaded. all hands fell to work to transfer the cargo to the warehouse of the fur company, which stood near the landing. it was not a long operation, for all worked heartily. this being accomplished, the voyageurs, one and all, prepared to take their leave. in vain mâtâ stormed and raved--in vain arthur remonstrated. "no," they said, "they had brought the boat and cargo to the warehouse--that was all of their job." and they turned to go. "guardapié," said i, "do you intend to leave us here?" "bien, madame! it is the place we always stop at." "does monsieur john pay you for bringing his family down?" "oh, yes, monsieur john has given us an order on the sutler, at the fort down below." "to be paid when you deliver us safe at the fort down below. it seems i shall be there before you, and i shall arrange that matter. monsieur john never dreamed that this would be your conduct." the frenchmen consulted together, and the result was that guardapié with two others jumped into the boat, took their oars, and rather sulkily rowed us the remaining two miles to fort howard. chapter xxxiv. fort howard--our return home. we soon learned that a great panic prevailed at green bay on account of the sauks. the people seemed to have possessed themselves with the idea that the enemy would visit this place on their way to canada to put themselves under the protection of the british government. how they were to get there from this point--whether they were to stop and fabricate themselves bark canoes for the purpose, or whether they were to charter one of mr. newbery's schooners for the trip, the good people did not seem fully to have made up their minds. one thing is certain, a portion of the citizens were nearly frightened to death, and were fully convinced that there was no safety for them but within the walls of the old dilapidated fort, from which nearly all the troops had been withdrawn and sent to fort winnebago some time previous. their fears were greatly aggravated by a report, brought by some traveller, that he had slept at night on the very spot where the sauks breakfasted the next morning. now, as the sauks were known to be reduced to very short commons, there was every reason to suppose that if the man had waited half an hour longer they would have eaten him; so he was considered to have made a wonderful escape. our immediate friends and acquaintances were far from joining in these fears. the utter improbability of such a movement was obvious to all who considered the nature of the country to be traversed, and the efficient and numerous body of whites by whom they must be opposed on their entrance into that neighborhood. there were some, however, who could not be persuaded that there was any security but in flight, and eagerly was the arrival of the "mariner" looked for, as the anxiety grew more and more intense. the "mariner" appeared at last. it was early in the morning. in one hour from the time of her arrival the fearful news she brought had spread the whole length of the settlement--"the cholera was in this country! it was in detroit--it was among the troops who were on their way to the seat of war! whole companies had died of it in the river st. clair, and the survivors had been put on shore at port gratiot, to save their lives as best they might!" we were shut in between the savage foe on one hand and the pestilence on the other! to those who had friends at the east the news was most appalling. it seemed to unman every one who heard it. an officer who had exhibited the most distinguished prowess in the battle-field, and also in some private enterprises demanding unequalled courage and daring, was the first to bring us the news. when he had communicated it, he laid his head against the window-sill and wept like a child. those who must perforce rejoin friends near and dear, left the bay in the "mariner;" all others considered their present home the safest; and so it proved, for the dreadful scourge did not visit green bay that season. the weather was intensely hot, and the mosquitoes so thick that we did not pretend to walk on the parade after sunset, unless armed with two fans, or green branches to keep constantly in motion, in order to disperse them. this, by the way, was the surest method of attracting them. we had somehow forgotten the apathetic indifference which had often excited our wonder in old smoker, as we had observed him calmly sitting and allowing his naked arms and person to become literally _gray_ with the tormenting insects. then he would quietly wipe off a handful, the blood following the movement of the hand over his skin, and stoically wait for an occasion to repeat the movement. it is said that the mosquito, if undisturbed until he has taken his fill, leaves a much less inflamed bite than if brushed away in the midst of his feast. by day, the air was at this season filled with what is called the green bay fly, a species of dragon-fly, with which the outer walls of the houses are at times so covered that their color is hardly distinguishable. their existence is very ephemeral, scarcely lasting more than a day. their dead bodies are seen adhering to the walls and windows within, and they fall without in such numbers that after a high wind has gathered them into rows along the sides of the quarters, one may walk through them and toss them up with their feet like the dry leaves in autumn. as we walked across the parade, our attention was sometimes called to a tapping upon the bars of the dungeon in which a criminal was confined--it was the murderer of lieutenant foster. it may be remembered that this amiable young officer had been our travelling companion in our journey from chicago the preceding year. some months after his arrival at port howard, he had occasion to order a soldier of his company, named doyle, into confinement for intoxication. the man, a few days afterwards, prevailed on the sergeant of the guard to escort him to lieutenant foster's quarters on the plea that he wished to speak to him. he ascended the stairs to the young officer's room, while the sergeant and another soldier remained at the foot, near the door. doyle entered, and, addressing lieutenant foster, said, "will you please tell me, lieutenant, what i am confined for?" "no, sir," replied the officer; "you know your offence well enough; return to your place of confinement." the man ran down-stairs, wrenched the gun from the sergeant's hand, and, rushing back, discharged it at the heart of lieutenant foster. he turned to go to his inner apartment, but exclaiming, "ah me!" he fell dead before the entrance. doyle, having been tried by a civil court, was now under sentence, awaiting his execution. he was a hardened villain, never exhibiting the slightest compunction for his crime. the commanding officer, major clark, sent to him one day to inquire if he wanted anything for his comfort. "if the major pleased," he replied, "he should like to have a light and a copy of byron's works." some fears were entertained that he would contrive to make way with himself before the day of execution, and, to guard against it, he was deprived of everything that could furnish him a weapon. his food was served to him in a wooden bowl, lest a bit of broken crockery might he used as a means of self destruction. one morning he sent a little package to the commanding officer as a present. it contained a strong rope, fabricated from strips of his blanket, that he had carefully separated, and with a large stout spike at the end of it. the message accompanying it was, "he wished major clark to see that if he chose to put an end to himself, he could find means to do it in spite of him." and this hardened frame of mind continued to the last. when he was led out for execution, in passing beyond the gate, he observed a quantity of lumber recently collected for the construction of a new company's warehouse. "ah, captain, what are you going to build here?" inquired he of captain scott, who attended him. "doyle," replied his captain, "you have but a few moments to live--- you had better employ your thoughts about something else." "it is for that very reason, captain," said he, "that i am inquiring--as my time is short, i wish to gain all the information i can while it lasts." * * * * * we were not suffered to remain long in suspense in regard to the friends we had left behind. in less than two weeks old smoker again made his appearance. he was the bearer of letters from my husband, informing me that general dodge was then with him at port winnebago, that generals henry and alexander were likewise at the fort, and that as soon as they had recruited their men and horses, which were pretty well worn out with scouring the country after black hawk, they would march again in pursuit of him towards the head-waters of the rock river, where they had every reason, from information lately brought in by the winnebagoes, to believe he would be found. as he charged us to lay aside all uneasiness on his account, and moreover held forth the hope of soon coming or sending for us, our minds became more tranquil. not long after this, i was told one morning that "_a lady_" wished to see me at the front door. i obeyed the summons, and, to my surprise, was greeted by my friend _madame four-legs._ after much demonstration of joy at seeing me, such as putting her two hands together over her forehead and then parting them in a waving kind of gesture, laughing, and patting me on my arms, she drew from her bosom a letter from my husband, of which she was the bearer. it was to this effect--"generals dodge and henry left here a few days since, accompanied by paquette; they met the sauks near the wisconsin, on the st. a battle ensued, in which upwards of fifty of the enemy were killed--our loss was one killed, and eight wounded. the _citizens_ are well pleased that all this has been accomplished without any aid from _old white beaver._[ ] the war must be near its close, for the militia and regulars together will soon finish the remaining handful of fugitives." the arrival of lieutenant hunter, who had obtained leave of absence in order to escort us, soon put all things in train for our return to fort winnebago. no mackinac boat was to be had, but in lieu of it a durham boat was procured. this is of a description longer and shallower than the other, with no convenience for rigging up an awning, or shelter of any kind, over the centre; but its size was better fitted to accommodate our party, which consisted, besides our own family, of lieutenant and mrs. hunter, the wife of another officer now stationed at port winnebago, and our cousin, miss forsyth. we made up our minds, as will be supposed, to pretty close quarters. our crew was composed partly of frenchmen and partly of soldiers, and, all things being in readiness, we set off one fine bright morning in the latter part of july. our second day's alternate rowing and poling brought us to the grande chûte early in the afternoon. here, it is the custom to disembark at the foot of the rapids, and, ascending the high bank, walk around the fall, while the men pull the boat up through the foaming waters. most of our party had already stepped on shore, when a sudden thought seized one of the ladies and myself. "let us stay in the boat," said we, "and be pulled up the chûte." the rest of the company went on, while we sat and watched with great interest the preparations the men were making. they were soon overboard in the water, and, attaching a strong rope to the bow of the boat, all lent their aid in pulling as they marched slowly along with their heavy load. the cargo, consisting only of our trunks and stores, which were of no very considerable weight, had not been removed. we went on, now and then getting a tremendous bump against a hidden rock, and frequently splashed by a shower of foam as the waves roared and boiled around us. the men kept as close as possible to the high, precipitous bank, where the water was smoothest. at the head of the _cordel_ was a merry simpleton of a frenchman, who was constantly turning his head to grin with delight at our evident enjoyment and excitement. we were indeed in high glee. "is not this charming?" cried one. "i only wish----" the wish, whatever it was, was cut short by a shout and a crash. "have a care, robineau! mind where you are taking the boat!" was the cry, but it came too late. more occupied with the ladies than with his duty, the leader had guided us into the midst of a sharp, projecting tree that hung from the bank. the first tug ripped out the side of the boat, which immediately began to fill with water. my companion and i jumped upon the nearest rocks that showed their heads above the foam. our screams and the shouts of the men brought lieutenant hunter and some indians, who were above on the bank, dashing down to our rescue. they carried us in their arms to land, while the men worked lustily at fishing up the contents of the boat, now thoroughly saturated with water. we scrambled up the high bank, in a miserable plight, to join in the general lamentation over the probable consequences of the accident. "oh! my husband's new uniform!" cried one, and "oh! the miniatures in the bottom of my trunk!" sighed another--while, "oh! the silk dresses, and the ribbons, and the finery!" formed the general chorus. no one thought of the provisions, although we had observed, in our progress to shore, the barrel of bread and the tub of ice, which lieutenant hunter had providently brought for our refreshment, sailing away on the dancing waves. among the boxes brought to land, and "toted" up the steep bank, was one containing some loaves of sugar and packages of tea, which i had bought for our winter's supply from the sutler at the post. the young indian who was the bearer of it set it upon the ground, and soon called my attention to a thick, white stream that was oozing from the corners. i made signs for him to taste it. he dipped his finger in it, and exclaimed with delight to his companions, when he perceived what it was. i then pointed to his hatchet, and motioned him to open the box. he did not require a second invitation--it was soon backed to pieces. then, as i beckoned up all the rest of the youngsters who were looking on, full of wonder, such a scrambling and shouting with delight succeeded as put us all, particularly the boys, into fits of laughter. bowls, dippers, hands, everything that could contain even the smallest quantity, were put in requisition. the squaws were most active. those who could do no better took the stoutest fragments of the blue paper in which the sugar had been enveloped, and in a trice nothing remained but the wet, yellow bundles of tea, and the fragments of the splintered box which had contained it. by this time fires had been made, and the articles from the trunks were soon seen covering every shrub and bush in the vicinity. fortunately, the box containing the new uniform had been piled high above the others, in the centre of the boat, and had received but little damage; but sad was the condition of the wardrobes in general. not a white article was to be seen. all was mottled; blue, green, red, and black intermingling in streaks, and dripping from ends and corners. to add to the trouble, the rain began to fall, as rain is apt to do, at an inconvenient moment, and soon the half-dried garments had to be gathered out of the smoke and huddled away in a most discouraging condition. the tent was pitched, wet as it was, and the blankets, wrung out of the water, and partially dried, were spread upon the ground for our accommodation at night. a hamburg cheese, which had been a part of my stores, was voted to me for a pillow, and, after a supper the best part of which was a portion of one of the wet loaves which had remained in a barrel too tightly wedged to drift away, we betook ourselves to our repose. the next morning rose hot and sultry. the mosquitoes, which the rain had kept at bay through the night, now began to make themselves amends, and to torment us unmercifully. after our most uncomfortable and unpalatable breakfast, the first question for consideration was, what we were to do with ourselves. our boat lay submerged at the foot of the hill, half-way up the rapids. the nearest habitation among the waubanakees was some miles distant, and this there was no means of reaching but by an indian canoe, if some of our present friends and neighbors would be so obliging as to bring one for our use. even then it was doubtful if boats could be found sufficient to convey all our numerous party back to green bay. in the midst of these perplexing consultations a whoop was heard from beyond the hill, which here sloped away to the north, at the head of the rapids. "there is john! that is certainly his voice!" cried more than one of the company. it was, indeed, my husband, and in a moment he was among us. never was arrival more opportune, more evidently providential. not having learned our plans (for the unsettled state of the country had prevented our sending him word), he had come provided with a boat, to take us back to fort winnebago. our drying operations, which we had recommenced this morning, were soon cut short. everything was shuffled away in the most expeditious manner possible, and in an incredibly short time we were transferred to the other boat, which lay quietly above the chûte, and were pulling away towards winnebago lake. we had resolved to go only so far as the vicinity of the lake, where the breeze would render the mosquitoes less intolerable, and then to stop and make one more attempt at drying our clothing. accordingly, when we reached a beautiful high bank near the little butte, we stopped for that purpose again, unpacked our trunks, and soon every bush and twig was fluttering with the spoils of the cruel waves. hardly had we thus disposed of the last rag or ribbon when the tramp of horses was heard, followed by loud shouts and cheers ringing through the forest. a company of about twenty-five horsemen, with banners flying, veils fluttering from their hats, and arms glittering in the sun, rode into our midst, and, amid greetings and roars of laughter, inquired into the nature and reasons of our singular state of confusion. they were colonel stambough and alexander irwin, of green bay, with a company of young volunteers, and followed by a whooping band of menomonees, all bound for the seat of war. we comforted them with the assurance that the victories were by this time all won and the scalps taken; but, expressing the hope that there were yet a few laurels to be earned, they bade us adieu, and rapidly pursued their march. we crossed lake winnebago by the clear, beautiful light of a summer moon. the soft air was just enough to swell the sail, and thus save the men their labor at the oar. the witchery of the hour was not, however, sufficient to induce us to forego our repose after the heat and annoyances of the day--we therefore disposed ourselves betimes, to be packed away in the centre of the boat. how it was accomplished no one of the numerous company could tell. if any accident had occurred to disturb our arrangement, i am sure it would have been a chinese puzzle to put us back again in our places. the men on the outside had much the best of it, and we rather envied those who were off watch, their ability to snore and change position as the humor took them. we reached powell's just in time to have gone ashore and prepare our breakfast had we had wherewithal to prepare it. we had hoped to be able to procure some supplies here, for hitherto we had been living on the remains of my husband's ample stock. that was now so nearly exhausted that when we found the mess-basket could not be replenished at this place we began to talk of putting ourselves on allowance. the wet bread, of which there had remained an ample store, had, as may be readily imagined, soon fermented under the influence of a july sun. the tea, too, notwithstanding our careful efforts at drying it on newspapers and pieces of board, ere long became musty and unfit for use. there was, literally, nothing left, except the salted meat and a few crackers, hardly sufficient for the present day. the men were therefore urged to make all the speed possible, that we might reach gleason's, at lake puckaway, in good season on the following day. at evening, when we stopped to take our tea at a beautiful little opening among the trees, we found our old enemies, the mosquitoes, worse than ever. it was necessary to put on our cloaks and gloves, and tie our veils close around our throats, only venturing to introduce a cracker or a cup of tea under this protection in the most stealthy manner. the men rowed well, and brought us to gleason's about eleven o'clock the next day. we were greeted with the most enthusiastic demonstrations by my old friend _la grosse américaine,_ who had removed here from bellefontaine. "oh, mrs. armstrong," cried we, "get us some breakfast--we are famishing!" at that instant who should appear but our faithful mâtâ, driving the old calèche in which we were in the habit of making our little excursions in the neighborhood of the port. he had ridden over, hoping to meet us, in the idea that some of us would prefer this method of reaching our home. with provident thoughtfulness, he had brought tea, roasted coffee, fresh butter, eggs, etc., lest we should be short of such luxuries in that advanced stage of our journey. his "good-morning, madame johns! how do you dos?" was a pleasant and welcome sound. we could not wait for our breakfast, but gathered round la grosse américaine like a parcel of children while she cut and spread slices of bread-and-butter for us. after our regular meal was finished, it was decided that sister margaret should take josette, and return with mâtâ to open the house and make it ready for our reception. it had been the head-quarters of militia, indians, and stragglers of various descriptions during our absence, and we could easily imagine that a little "misrule and unreason" might have had sway for that period. we had yet seventy-two miles, by the devious winding course of the river, over first the beautiful waters of lac de boeuf, and then through the low, marshy lands that spread away to the portage. an attempt was made on the part of one of the gentlemen to create a little excitement among the ladies as we approached the spot where it had been supposed the sauks might pass on their way to the chippewa country. "who knows," said he, gravely, "but they may be lurking in this neighborhood yet? if so, we shall probably have some signal. we must be on the alert!" some of the ladies began to turn pale and look about them. after an interval of perfect silence, a low, prolonged whistle was heard. there was so much agitation, and even actual terror, that the mischievous author of the trick was obliged to confess at once, and receive a hearty scolding for the pain he had caused. just before sunset of the second day from gleason's we reached our home. every thing was _radiant_ with neatness and good order. with the efficient aid of our good manaigre and his wife, the house had been whitewashed from the roof to the door-sill, a thorough scrubbing and cleansing effected, the carpets unpacked and spread upon the floors, the furniture arranged, and, though last not least, a noble supper smoked upon the board by the time we had made, once more, a civilized toilet. many of our friends from the fort were there to greet us, and a more happy or thankful party has seldom been assembled. chapter xxxv. surrender of winnebago prisoners. the war was now considered at an end. the news of the battle of the bad axe, where the regulars, the militia, and the steamboat warrior combined, had made a final end of the remaining handful of sauks, had reached us and restored tranquillity to the hearts and homes of the frontier settlers. it may seem wonderful that an enemy so few in number and so insignificant in resources could have created such a panic, and required so vast an amount of opposing force to subdue them. the difficulty had been simply in never knowing where to find them, either to attack or guard against them. probably at the outset every military man thought and felt like the noble old veteran general brady. "give me two infantry companies mounted," said he, "and i will engage to whip the sauks out of the country in one week!" true, but to whip the enemy you must first meet him; and in order to pursue effectually and _catch_ the indians, a peculiar training is necessary--a training which, at that day, few, even of the frontier militia, could boast. in some portions of this campaign there was another difficulty,--the want of concert between the two branches of the service. the regular troops looked with contempt upon the unprofessional movements of the militia; the militia railed at the dilatory and useless formalities of the regulars. each avowed the conviction that matters could be much better conducted without the other, and the militia, being prompt to act, sometimes took matters into their own hands, and brought on defeat and disgrace, as in the affair of "stillman's run." the feeling of contempt which the army officers entertained for the militia, extended itself to their subordinates and dependants. after the visit of the ranger officers to fort winnebago, before the battle of the wisconsin, the officer of the mess where they had been entertained called up his servant one day to inquire into the sutler's accounts, he was the same little "yellow david" who had formerly appertained to captain harney. "david," said the young gentleman, "i see three bottles of cologne-water charged in the month's account of the mess at the sutler's. what does that mean?" "if you please, lieutenant," said david, respectfully, "it was to sweeten up the dining-room and quarters after them milish' officers were here visiting." black hawk and a few of his warriors had escaped to the north, where they were shortly after captured by the one-eyed day-kau-ray and his party, and brought prisoners to general street at prairie du chien. the women and children of the band had been put in canoes and sent down the mississippi, in hopes of being permitted to cross and reach the rest of that tribe. the canoes had been tied together, and many of them were upset, and the children drowned, their mothers being too weak and exhausted to rescue them. the survivors were taken prisoners, and, starving and miserable, were brought to prairie du chien. our mother was at the port at the time of their arrival. she described their condition as wretched and reduced beyond anything she had ever witnessed. one woman who spoke a little chippewa gave her an account of the sufferings and hardships they had endured--it was truly appalling. after having eaten such of the horses as could be spared, they had subsisted on acorns, elm-bark, or even grass. many had died of starvation, and their bodies were found lying in their trail by the pursuing whites. this poor woman had lost her husband in battle, and all her children by the upsetting of the canoe in which they were, and her only wish now was, to go and join them. poor indians! who can wonder that they do not love the whites? but a very short time had we been quietly at home when a summons came to my husband to collect the principal chiefs of the winnebagoes and meet general scott and governor reynolds at rock island, where it was proposed to bold a treaty for the purchase of all the lands east and south of the wisconsin. messengers were accordingly sent to collect the principal men, and, accompanied by as many as chose to report themselves, he set off on his journey. he had been gone about two weeks, and i was beginning to count the days which must elapse before i could reasonably expect his return, when, one afternoon, i went over to pay a visit to my sister at the fort. as i passed into the large hall of one range of quarters, lieutenant lacy came suddenly in from the opposite direction, and, almost without stopping, cried,-- "bad news, madam! have you heard it?" "no. what is it?" "the cholera has broken out at rock island, and they are dying by five hundred a day. dr. finley has just arrived with the news." so saying, he vanished, without stopping to answer a question. the cholera at rock island, and my husband there! i flew to the other door of the hall, which looked out upon the parade-ground. a sentinel was walking near. "soldier," cried i, "will you run to the young officers' quarters and ask dr. finley to come here for a moment?" the man shook his head--he was not allowed to leave his post. presently mrs. lacy's servant-girl appeared from a door under the steps. she was a worthless creature, but where _help_ was so scarce ladies could not afford to keep a scrupulous tariff of moral qualification. "oh! catharine," said i, "will you run over and ask dr. finley to come here a moment? i must hear what news he has brought from rock island." she put on a modest look, and said,-- "i do not like to go to the young officers' quarters." i was indignant at her hypocrisy, but i was also wild with impatience, when to my great joy dr. finley made his appearance. "where is my husband?" cried i. "on his way home, madam, safe and sound. he will probably be here to-morrow." he then gave me an account of the ravages the cholera was making among the troops, which were indeed severe, although less so than rumor had at first proclaimed. notwithstanding the doctor's assurance of his safety, my husband was seized with cholera on his journey. by the kind care of paquette and the plentiful use of chicken-broth which the poor woman at whose cabin he stopped administered to him, he soon recovered, and reached his home in safety, having taken prairie du chien in his route and brought his mother with him again to her home. the indians had consented to the sale of their beautiful domain. indeed, there is no alternative in such cases. if they persist in retaining them, and become surrounded and hemmed in by the white settlers, their situation is more deplorable than if they surrendered their homes altogether. this they are aware of, and therefore, as a general thing, they give up their lands at the proposal of government, and only take care to make the best bargain they can for themselves. in this instance they were to receive as an equivalent a tract of land[ ] extending to the interior of iowa, and an additional sum of ten thousand dollars annually. one of the stipulations of the treaty was, the surrender by the winnebagoes of certain individuals of their tribe accused of having participated with the sauks in some of the murders on the frontier, in order that they might be tried by our laws, and acquitted or punished as the case might be. wau-kaun-kah (the little snake) voluntarily gave himself as a hostage until the delivery of the suspected persons. he was accordingly received by the agent, and marched over and placed in confinement at the fort until the seven accused should appear to redeem him. it was a work of some little time on the part of the nation to persuade these suspected individuals to place themselves in the hands of the whites, that they might receive justice according to the laws of the latter. the trial of red bird, and his languishing death in prison, were still fresh in their memories, and it needed a good deal of resolution, as well as a strong conviction of conscious innocence, to brace them up to such a step. it had to be brought about by arguments and persuasions, for the nation would never have resorted to force to compel the fulfilment of their stipulation. in the mean time a solemn talk was held with the principal chiefs assembled at the agency. a great part of the nation were in the immediate neighborhood, in obedience to a notice sent by governor porter, who, in virtue of his office of governor of michigan territory, was also superintendent of the northwest division of the indians. instead of calling upon the agent to take charge of the annuity money, as had heretofore been the custom, the governor had announced his intention of bringing it himself to fort winnebago and being present at the payment. the time appointed had now arrived, and with it the main body of the winnebagoes. such of the indians as had not attended the treaty at rock island and been instrumental in the cession of their country, were loud in their condemnation of the step, and their lamentations over it. foremost among these was wild-cat, the falstaff of garlic island and its vicinity. it was little wonder that he should shed bitter tears, as he did, over the loss of his beautiful home on the blue waters of winnebago lake. "if he had not been accidentally stopped," he said, "on his way to the treaty, and detained until it was too late, he would never, never have permitted the bargain." his father, who knew that a desperate frolic, into which wild-cat had been enticed by the way, was the cause of his failing to accompany his countrymen to rock island, replied, gravely,-- "that he had heard of the chief's misfortune on this occasion. how that, in ascending the fox river, a couple of kegs of _whiskey_ had come floating down the stream, which, running foul of his canoe with great force, had injured it to such a degree that he had been obliged to stop several days at the _mee-kan,_ to repair damages." the shouts of laughter which greeted this explanation were so contagious that poor wild-cat himself was compelled to join in it, and treat his misfortune as a joke. the suspected indians having engaged the services of judge doty to defend them on their future trial, notice was at length given that on a certain day they would be brought to the portage and surrendered to their father, to be by him transferred to the keeping of the military officer appointed to receive them. it was joyful news to poor wau-kaun-kah, that the day of his release was at hand. every time that we had been within the walls of the fort we had been saluted by a call from him, as he kept his station at the guard-room window: "do you hear anything of those indians? when are they coming, that i may be let out?" we had endeavored to lighten his confinement by seeing that he was well supplied with food, and his father and paquette had paid him occasional visits; but, notwithstanding these attentions and the kindness he had received at the fort, his confinement was inexpressibly irksome. on the morning of a bright autumnal day the authorities were notified that the chiefs of the nation would present themselves at the agency to deliver the suspected persons as prisoners to the americans. at the hour of ten o'clock, as we looked out over the portage road, we could descry a moving concourse of people, in which brilliant color, glittering arms, and, as they approached still nearer, certain white objects of unusual appearance could be distinguished. general dodge, major plympton, and one or two other officers took their seats with mr. kinzie on the platform in front of the door of our mansion to receive them, while we stationed ourselves at the window where we could both see and hear. the procession wound up the hill, and approached, marching slowly towards us. it was a grand and solemn sight. first came some of the principal chiefs in their most brilliant array. next, the prisoners, all habited in white cotton, in token of their innocence, with girdles round their waists. the music of the drum and the shee-shee-qua accompanied their death-song, which they were chaunting. they wore no paint, no ornaments--their countenances were grave and thoughtful. it might well be a serious moment to them, for they knew but little of the customs of the whites, and that little was not such as to inspire cheerfulness. only their father's assurance that they should receive strict justice, would probably have induced them to comply with the engagements of the nation in this manner. the remainder of the procession was made up of a long train of winnebagoes, all decked out in their holiday garb. the chiefs approached and shook hands with the gentlemen, who stood ready to receive their greeting. then the prisoners came forward, and went through the same salutation with the officers. when they offered their hands to their father, he declined. "no," said he. "you have come here accused of great crimes--of having assisted in taking the lives of some of the defenceless settlers. when you have been tried by the laws of the land, and been proved innocent, then your father will give you his hand." they looked still more serious at this address, as if they thought it indicated that their father, too, believed them guilty, and stepping back a little, they seated themselves, without speaking, in a row upon the ground, facing their father and the officers. the other indians all took seats in a circle around them, except the one-eyed chief, kau-ray-kau-say-kah (the white crow), who had been deputed to deliver the prisoners to the agent. he made a speech in which he set forth that, "although asserting their innocence of the charges preferred against them, his countrymen were quite willing to be tried by the laws of white men. he hoped they would not be detained long, but that the matter would be investigated soon, and that they would come out of it clear and white." in reply he was assured that all things would be conducted fairly and impartially, exactly as if the accused were white men, and the hope was added that they would be found to have been good and true citizens, and peaceful children of their great father, the president. when this was over, white crow requested permission to transfer the medal he had received as a mark of friendship from the president, to his son, who stood beside him, and who had been chosen by the nation to fill his place as chief, an office he was desirous of resigning. the speeches made upon this occasion, as interpreted by paquette, the modest demeanor of the young man, and the dignified yet feeling manner of the father throughout, made the whole ceremony highly impressive; and when the latter took the medal from his neck and hung it around that of his son, addressing him a few appropriate words, i think no one could have witnessed the scene unmoved. i had watched the countenances of the prisoners as they sat on the ground before me, while all these ceremonies were going forward. with one exception they were open, calm, and expressive of conscious innocence. of that one i could not but admit there might be reasonable doubts. one was remarkably fine-looking--another was a boy of certainly not more than seventeen, and during the transfer of the medal he looked from one to the other, and listened to what was uttered by the speakers, with an air and expression of even childlike interest and satisfaction. our hearts felt sad for them as, the ceremonies finished, they were conducted by a file of soldiers and committed to the dungeon of the guard-house until such time as they should be summoned to attend the court appointed to try their cause. chapter xxxvi. escape of the prisoners. the indians did not disperse after the ceremonies of the surrender had been gone through. they continued still in the vicinity of the portage, in the constant expectation of the arrival of the annuity money, which they had been summoned there to receive. but the time for setting out on his journey to bring it was postponed by governor porter from week to week. had he foreseen all the evils this delay was to occasion, he would, possibly, have been more prompt in fulfilling his appointment. many causes conspired to make an early payment desirable. in the first place, the winnebagoes, having been driven from their homes by their anxiety to avoid all appearance of fraternizing with the sauks, had made this year no gardens nor corn-fields they had, therefore, no provisions on hand, either for present use or for their winter's consumption, except their scanty supplies of wild rice. while this was disappearing during their protracted detention at the portage, they were running the risk of leaving themselves quite unprovided with food, in case of a bad hunting-season during the winter and spring. in the next place, the rations which the agent had been accustomed, by the permission of government, to deal out occasionally to them, were now cut off by a scarcity in the commissary's department. the frequent levies of the militia during the summer campaign, and the reinforcement of the garrison by the troops from port howard, had drawn so largely on the stores at this post that there was necessity for the most rigid economy in the issuing of supplies. foreseeing this state of things, mr. kinzie, as soon as the war was at an end, commissioned mr. kercheval, then sutler at fort howard, to procure him a couple of boat-loads of corn, to be distributed among the indians. unfortunately, there was no corn to be obtained from michigan; it was necessary to bring it from ohio, and by the time it at length reached green bay (for in those days business was never done in a hurry) the navigation of the fox river had closed, and it was detained there, to be brought up the following spring. as day after day wore on and "the silver" did not make its appearance, the indians were advised by their father to disperse to their hunting-grounds to procure food, with the promise that they should be summoned immediately on the arrival of governor porter; and this advice they followed. while they had been in our neighborhood, they had more than once asked permission to dance the _scalp-dance,_ before our door. this is the most frightful, heart-curdling exhibition that can possibly be imagined. the scalps are stretched on little hoops, or frames, and carried on the end of slender poles. these are brandished about in the course of the dance, with cries, shouts, and furious gestures. the women, who commence as spectators, becoming excited with the scene and the music which their own discordant notes help to make more deafening, rush in, seize the scalps from the hands of the owners, and toss them frantically about, with the screams and yells of demons. i have seen as many as forty or fifty scalps figuring in one dance. upon one occasion one was borne by an indian who approached quite near me, and i shuddered as i observed the long, fair hair, evidently that of a woman. another indian had the skin of a human hand, stretched and prepared with as much care as if it had been some costly jewel. when these dances occurred, as they sometimes did, by moonlight, they were peculiarly horrid and revolting. * * * * * amid so many events of a painful character there were not wanting occasionally some that bordered on the ludicrous. one evening, while sitting at tea, we were alarmed by the sound of guns firing in the direction of the wisconsin. all started up, and prepared, instinctively, for flight to the garrison. as we left the house we found the whole bluff and the meadow below in commotion,--indians running with their guns and spears across their shoulders to the scene of alarm--squaws and children standing in front of their lodges and looking anxiously in the direction of the unusual and unaccountable sounds--groups of french and half-breeds, like ourselves, fleeing to gain the bridge and place themselves within the pickets so lately erected. as one company of indians passed us hurriedly, some weapon carelessly carried hit one of our party on the side of the head. "oh!" shrieked she, "i am killed! an indian has tomahawked me!" and she was only reassured by finding she could still run as fast as the best of us. when we reached the parade-ground, within the fort, we could not help laughing at the grotesque appearance we presented. some without hats or shawls--others with packages of valuables hastily secured at the moment--one with her piece of bread-and-butter in hand, which she had not had the presence of mind to lay aside when she took to flight. the alarm was, in the end, found to have proceeded from a party of winnebagoes from one of the barribault villages, who, being about to leave their home for a period, were going through the ceremony of burying the scalps which they and their fathers had taken. like the military funerals among civilized nations, their solemnities were closed on this occasion by the discharge of several volleys over the grave of their trophies. * * * * * at length, about the beginning of november, two months after the time appointed, governor porter, accompanied by major forsyth and mr. kercheval, arrived with the annuity money. the indians were again assembled, the payment was made, and having supplied themselves with a larger quantity of ammunition than usual,--for they saw the necessity of a good hunt to remedy past and present deficiencies,--they set off for their wintering grounds. we were, ourselves, about changing our quarters, to our no small satisfaction. notwithstanding the indian disturbances, the new agency house (permission to build which had, after much delay, been accorded by government) had been going steadily on, and soon after the departure of the governor and his party, we took possession of it. we had been settled but a few weeks, when one morning lieutenant davies appeared just as we were sitting down to breakfast, with a face full of consternation. "_the indian prisoners had escaped from the black-hole_! the commanding officer, colonel cutler, had sent for mr. kinzie to come over to the fort and counsel with him what was to be done." the prisoners had probably commenced their operations very soon after being placed in the _black-hole_, a dungeon in the basement of the guard-house. they observed that their meals were brought regularly, three times a day, and that in the intervals they were left entirely to themselves. with their knives they commenced excavating an opening, the earth from which, as it was withdrawn, they spread about on the floor of their prison. a blanket was placed over the hole, and one of the company was always seated upon it, before the regular time for the soldier who had charge of them to make his appearance. when the periodical visit was made, the indians were always observed to be seated, smoking in the most orderly and quiet manner. there was never anything in their appearance to excite suspicion. the prisoners had never read the memoirs of baron trenck, but they had watched the proceedings of the badgers; so, profiting by their example, they worked on, shaping the opening spirally, until, in about six weeks, they came out to the open air beyond the walls of the fort. that they might be as little encumbered as possible in their flight, they left their blankets behind them, and although it was bitter december weather, they took to the woods and prairies with only their calico shirts and leggings for covering. we can readily believe that hope and exultation kept them comfortably warm until they reached an asylum among their friends. it would be compromising our own reputation as loyal and patriotic citizens to tell of the secret rejoicing this news occasioned us. the question now was, how to get the fugitives back again. the agent could promise no more than that he would communicate with the chiefs, and represent the wishes of the officers that the prisoners should once more surrender themselves, and thus free those who had had the charge of them from the imputation of carelessness, which the government would be very likely to throw upon them. when, according to their custom, many of the chiefs assembled at the agency on new-year's day, their father laid the subject before them. the indians replied, that _if they saw the young men_ they would tell them what the officers would like to have them do. they could, themselves, do nothing in the matter. they had fulfilled their engagement by bringing them once and putting them in the hands of the officers. the government had had them in its power once and could not keep them--it must now go and catch them itself. the government, having had some experience the past summer in "catching indians," wisely concluded to drop the matter. about this time another event occurred which occasioned no small excitement in our little community. robineau, the striker from the blacksmith establishment at sugar creek, near the four lakes, arrived one very cold day at the agency. he had come to procure medical aid for mâtâ's eldest daughter, sophy, who, while sliding on the lake, had fallen on the ice and been badly hurt. her father was absent, having gone to prairie du chien to place his youngest daughter at school. two or three days had elapsed since the accident had happened; a high fever had set in, and the poor girl was in a state of great suffering; it had therefore been thought best to send robineau to us for advice and aid, leaving turcotte and a friendly indian woman from a neighboring lodge to take charge of poor sophy. the commanding officer did not think it prudent, when the subject was laid before him, to permit the surgeon to leave the post, but he very cheerfully granted leave of absence to currie, the hospital steward, a young man who possessed some knowledge of medicine and surgery. as it was important that sophy should have an experienced nurse, we procured the services of madame bellaire, the wife of the frenchman who was generally employed as express to chicago; and, as an aid and companion, agathe, a daughter of day-kau-ray, who lived in paquette's family, was added to the party. of agathe i shall have more to say hereafter. the weather was excessively cold when robineau, currie, and the two women set out for sugar creek, a distance of about forty miles. we had provided them with a good store of rice, crackers, tea, and sugar, for the invalid, all of which, with their provisions for the way, were packed on the horse robineau had ridden to the portage. it was expected they would reach their place of destination on the second day. what, then, was our surprise to see turcotte make his appearance on the fourth day after their departure, to inquire why robineau had not returned with aid for poor sophy! there was but one solution of the mystery. robineau had guided them as ill as he had guided the boat at the grande chûte the summer before, and, although he could not shipwreck them, he had undoubtedly lost them in the woods or prairies. one comfort was, that they could not well starve, for the rice and crackers would furnish them with several days' provisions, and with agathe, who must be accustomed to this kind of life, they could not fail in time of finding indians, and being brought back to the portage. still, day after day went on and we received no tidings of them. turcotte returned to sugar creek with comforts and prescriptions for sophy, and colonel cutler sent out a party to hunt for the missing ones, among whom poor currie, from his delicate constitution, was the object of our greatest commiseration. as the snow fell and the winds howled, we could employ ourselves about nothing but walking from window to window, watching, in hopes of seeing some one appear in the distance. no indians were at hand whom we could dispatch upon the search, and by the tenth day we had almost given up in despair. it was then that the joyful news was suddenly brought us, "they are found! they are at the fort!" a party of soldiers who had been exploring had encountered them at hastings's woods, twelve miles distant, slowly and feebly making their way back to the portage. they knew they were on the right track, but had hardly strength to pursue it. exhausted with cold and hunger, for their provisions had given out two days before, they had thought seriously of killing the horse and eating him. nothing but currie's inability to proceed on foot, and the dread of being compelled to leave him in the woods to perish, had deterred them. agathe had from the first been convinced that they were on the wrong track, but robineau, with his usual obstinacy, persevered in keeping it until it brought them to the rock river, when he was obliged to acknowledge his error, and they commenced retracing their steps. agathe, according to the custom of her people, had carried her hatchet with her, and thus they had always had a fire at night, and boughs to shelter them from the storms; otherwise they must inevitably have perished. there were two circumstances which aroused in us a stronger feeling even than that of sympathy. the first was, the miserable robineau's having demanded of currie, first, all his money, and afterwards his watch, as a condition of his bringing the party back into the right path, which he averred he knew perfectly well. the second was, bellaire's giving his kind, excellent wife a hearty flogging "for going off," as he said, "on such a fool's errand." the latter culprit was out of our jurisdiction, but mons. robineau was discharged on the spot, and warned that he might think himself happy to escape a legal process for swindling. i am happy to say that sophy mâtâ, in whose behalf all these sufferings had been endured, was quite recovered by the time her father returned from the prairie. chapter xxxvii. agathe--tomah. agathe was the daughter of an indian who was distinguished by the name of _rascal_ day-kau-ray. whether he merited the appellation must be determined hereafter. he was brother to the grand old chief of that name, but as unlike him as it is possible for those of the same blood to be. the day-kau-rays were a very handsome family, and this daughter was remarkable for her fine personal endowments. a tall, well-developed form, a round, sweet face, and that peculiarly soft, melodious voice which belongs to the women of her people, would have attracted the attention of a stranger, while the pensive expression of her countenance irresistibly drew the hearts of all towards her, and prompted the wish to know more of her history. as i received it from her friend, mrs. paquette, it was indeed a touching one. a young officer at the fort had seen her, and had set, i will not say his heart--it may be doubted if he had one--but his mind upon her. he applied to paquette to negotiate what he called a marriage with her. i am sorry to say that paquette was induced to enter into this scheme. he knew full well the sin of making false representations to the family of agathe, and he knew the misery he was about to bring upon her. the poor girl had been betrothed to a young man of her own people, and, as is generally the case, the attachment on both sides was very strong. among these simple people, who have few subjects of thought or speculation beyond the interests of their daily life, their affections and their animosities form the warp and woof of their character. all their feelings are intense, from being concentrated on so few objects. family relations, particularly with the women, engross the whole amount of their sensibilities. the marriage connection is a sacred and indissoluble tie. i have read, in a recent report to the historical society of wisconsin, that, in former times, a temporary marriage between a white man and a menomonee woman was no uncommon occurrence, and that such an arrangement brought no scandal, i am afraid that if such eases were investigated, a good deal of deceit and misrepresentation would be found to have been added to the other sins of the transaction; and that the woman would be found to have been a victim, instead of a willing participant, in such a connection. at all events, no system of this kind exists among the winnebagoes. the strictest sense of female propriety is a distinguishing trait among them. a woman who transgresses it is said to have "forgotten herself," and is sure to be cast off and "forgotten" by her friends. the marriage proposed between the young officer and the daughter of day-kau-ray, was understood as intended to be true and lasting. the father would not have exposed himself to the contempt of his whole nation by selling his daughter to become the mistress of any man. the day-kau-rays, as i have elsewhere said, were not a little proud of a remote cross of french blood which mingled with the aboriginal stream in their veins, and probably in acceding to the proposed connection the father of agathe was as much influenced by what he considered the honor to be derived as by the amount of valuable presents which accompanied the overtures made to him. be that as it may, the poor girl was torn from her lover, and transferred from her father's lodge to the quarters of the young officer. there were no ladies in the garrison at that time. had there been, such a step would hardly have been ventured. far away in the wilderness, shut out from the salutary influences of religious and social cultivation, what wonder that the moral sense sometimes becomes blinded, and that the choice is made, "evil, be thou my good!" the first step in wrong was followed by one still more aggravated in cruelty. the young officer left the post, as he said, on furlough, but _he never returned_. the news came after a time that he was married, and when he again joined his regiment it was at another post. there was a natural feeling in the strength of the "woe pronounced against him" by more tongues than one. "he will never," said my informant, "dare show himself in this country again! not an indian who knows the day-kau-rays but would take his life if he should meet him!" every tie was broken for poor agathe but that which bound her to her infant. she never returned to her father's lodge, for she felt that, being deserted, she was dishonored. her sole ambition seemed to be to bring up her child like those of the whites. she attired it in the costume of the french children, with a dress of bright calico, and a cap of the same, trimmed with narrow black lace. it was a fine child, and the only time i ever saw a smile cross her face was when it was commended and caressed by some member of our family. even this, her only source of happiness, poor agathe was called upon to resign. during our absence at green bay, while the sauks were in the neighborhood, the child was taken violently ill. the house at paquette's, which was the mother's home, was thronged with indians, and of course there was much noise and disturbance. my husband had a place prepared for her under our roof, where she could be more quiet, and receive the attendance of the post physician. it was all in vain--nothing could save the little creature's life. the bitter agony of the mother, as she hung over the only treasure she possessed on earth, was described to me as truly heart-rending. when compelled to part with it, it seemed almost more than nature could bear. there were friends, not of her own nation or color, who strove to comfort her. did the father ever send a thought or an inquiry after the fate of his child, or of the young being whose life he had rendered dark and desolate? we will hope that he did--that he repented and asked pardon from above for the evil he had wrought. agathe had been baptized by m. mazzuchelli. perhaps she may have acquired some religious knowledge which could bring her consolation in her sorrows, and compensate her for the hopes and joys so early blasted. she came, some months after the death of her child, in company with several of the half-breed women of the neighborhood, to pay me a visit of respect and congratulation on the advent of the _young shaw-nee-aw-kee._ when she looked at her "little brother," as he was called, and took his soft, tiny hand within her own, the tears stood in her eyes, and she spoke some little words of tenderness, which showed that her heart was full. i could scarcely refrain from mingling my tears with hers, as i thought on all the sorrow and desolation that one man's selfishness had occasioned. * * * * * early in february, , my husband and lieutenant hunter, in company with one or two others, set off on a journey to chicago. that place had become so much of a town (it contained perhaps fifty inhabitants) that it was necessary for the proprietors of "kinzie's addition" to lay out lots and open streets through their property. all this was accomplished during the visit in question. while they were upon the ground with a surveyor, the attention of my husband was drawn towards a very bright-looking boy in indian costume, who went hopping along by the side of the assistant that carried the chain, mimicking him as in the course of his operations he cried, "stick!" "stuck!" he inquired who the lad was, and, to his surprise, learned that he was the brother of the old family servants victoire, genevieve, and baptiste. tomah, for that was his name, had never been arrayed in civilized costume; he was in blanket and leggings, and had always lived in a wigwam. my husband inquired if he would like to go to fort winnebago with him and learn to be a white boy. the idea pleased him much, and, his mother having given her sanction to the arrangement, he was packed in a wagon, with the two gentlemen and their travelling gear, when they set forth on their return-journey. tomah had been equipped in jacket and trousers, with the other articles of apparel necessary to his new sphere and character. they were near the aux plaines, and approaching the residence of glode (claude) laframboise, where tomah knew he should meet acquaintances. he asked leave to get out of the wagon and walk a little way. when the gentlemen next saw him he was in full pottowattamie costume: although it was bitter winter weather, he had put on his uncomfortable native garb rather than show himself to his old friends in a state of transformation. on his arrival at fort winnebago, our first care was to furnish him with a complete wardrobe, which, having been placed in a box in his sleeping-apartment, was put under his charge. words cannot express his delight as the valuable possessions were confided to him. every spare moment was devoted to their contemplation. now and then tomah would be missing. he was invariably found seated by the side of his little trunk, folding and refolding his clothes, laying them now lengthwise, now crosswise, the happiest of mortals. our next step was to teach him to be useful. such little offices were assigned to him at first as might be supposed not altogether new to him, but we soon observed that when there was anything in the shape of work, tomah slipped off to bed, even if it were before he had taken his supper. some fish were given him one evening to scale; it was just at dark; but tom, according to custom, retired at once to bed. the cook came to inquire what was to be done. i was under the necessity of calling in my husband's aid as interpreter. he sent for tomah. when he came into the parlor mr. kinzie said to him, in pottowattamie,-- "there are some fish, tomah, in the kitchen, and we want you to scale them." "now?" exclaimed tom, with an expression of amazement. "it is very late." a young lady, miss rolette, who was visiting us, and who understood the language, could not refrain from bursting into a laugh at the simplicity with which the words were uttered, and we joined her in sympathy, at which tom looked a little indignant; but when he understood that it was the _white custom_ to scale the fish at night, and put salt and pepper on them, he was soon reconciled to do his duty in the matter. his next office was to lay the table. there was a best service of china, which was only used when we had company, and a best set of teaspoons, which i kept in the drawer of a bureau in my own room above-stairs. i was in the habit of keeping this drawer locked, and putting the key under a small clock on the mantel-piece. the first time that i had shown tomah how to arrange matters for visitors, i had brought the silver and put it on the table myself. soon after, we were to have company to tea again, and i explained to tomah that the best china must be used. what was my surprise, on going through the dining-room a short time after, to see not only the new china, but the "company silver" also, on the table! i requested our mother, who could speak with him, to inquire into the matter. tomah said, very coolly, "he got the silver where it was kept." "did he find the drawer open?" "no--he opened it with a key." "was the key in the drawer?" "no--it was under that thing on the shelf." "how did he know it was kept there?" this was what mr. tomah declined telling. we could never ascertain whether he had watched my movements at any time. no one had ever seen him in that part of the house, and yet scarcely an article could be mentioned of which tomah did not know the whereabouts. if any one was puzzled to find a thing, it was always,-- "ask tomah--he will tell you." and so in fact he did. he was a subject of much amusement to the young officers. we were to have a tea-party one evening--all the families and young officers from the fort. to make tomah's appearance as professional as possible, we made him a white apron with long sleeves to put on while he was helping mary and josette to carry round tea--for i must acknowledge that tomah's clothes were not kept in as nice order out of the trunk as in it. tom was delighted with his new costume, as well as with the new employment. he acquitted himself to perfection, for he had never any difficulty in imitating what he saw another do. after tea we had some music. as i was standing by the piano, at which one of the ladies was seated, lieutenant vancleve said to me, in a low tone,-- "look behind you a moment." i turned. there sat tom between two of the company, as stately as possible, with his white apron smoothed down, and his hands clasped before him, listening to the music, and on the best possible terms with himself and all around him. julian and edwin were hardly able to restrain their merriment, but they were afraid to do or say anything that would cause him to move before the company had had a full enjoyment of the scene. it was voted unanimously that tomah should be permitted to remain and enjoy the pleasures of society for one evening; but, with characteristic restlessness, he got tired as soon as the music was over, and unceremoniously took his leave of the company. chapter xxxviii. conclusion. what we had long anticipated of the sufferings of the indians began to manifest itself as the spring drew on. its extent was first brought to our knowledge by those who came in little parties begging for food. as long as it was possible to issue occasional rations their father continued to do so, but the supplies in the commissary department were now so much reduced that colonel cutler did not feel justified in authorizing anything beyond a scanty relief, and this only in extreme cases. we had ourselves throughout the winter used the greatest economy with our own stores, that we might not exhaust our slender stock of flour and meal before it could be replenished from "below." we had even purchased some sour flour which had been condemned by the commissary, and had contrived, by a plentiful use of saleratus and a due proportion of potatoes, to make of it a very palatable kind of bread. but as we had continued to give to party after party, when they would come to us to represent their famishing condition, the time at length arrived when we had nothing to give. the half-breed families of the neighborhood, who had, like ourselves, continued to share with the needy as long as their own stock lasted, were now obliged, of necessity, to refuse further assistance. these women often came to lament with us over the sad accounts that were brought from the wintering grounds. it had been a very open winter. the snow had scarcely been enough at any time to permit the indians to track the deer; in fact, all the game had been driven off by the troops and war-parties scouring the country through the preceding summer. we heard of their dying by companies from mere inanition, and lying stretched in the road to the portage, whither they were striving to drag their exhausted frames. soup made of the bark of the slippery elm, or stewed acorns, were the only food that many had subsisted on for weeks. we had for a long time received our own food by daily rations from the garrison, for things had got to such a pass that there was no possibility of obtaining a barrel of flour at a time. after our meals were finished i always went into the pantry, and collecting carefully every remaining particle of food set it aside, to be given to some of the wretched applicants by whom we were constantly thronged. one day as i was thus employed, a face appeared at the window with which i had once been familiar. it was the pretty daughter of the elder day-kau-ray. she had formerly visited us often, watching with great interest our employments--our sewing, our weeding and cultivating the garden, or our reading. of the latter, i had many times endeavored to give her some idea, showing her the plates in the family bible, and doing my best to explain them to her, but of late i had quite lost sight of her. now, how changed, how wan she looked! as i addressed her with my ordinary phrase, "_tshah-ko-zhah_?" (what is it?) she gave a sigh that was almost a sob. she did not beg, but her countenance spoke volumes. i took my dish and handed it to her, expecting to see her devour the contents eagerly; but no--she took it, and, making signs that she would soon return, walked away. when she brought it back, i was almost sure she had not tasted a morsel herself. * * * * * oh! the boats--the boats with the corn! why did they not come? we both wrote and sent to hasten them, but, alas! everything and everybody moved so slowly in those unenterprising times! we could only feel sure that they would come when they were ready, and not a moment before. we were soon obliged to keep both doors and windows fast, to shut out the sight of misery we could not relieve. if a door were opened for the admission of a member of the family, some wretched mother would rush in, grasp the hand of my infant, and, placing that of her famishing child within it, tell us, pleadingly, that he was imploring "his little brother" for food. the stoutest man could not have beheld with dry eyes the heart-rending spectacle which often presented itself. it was in vain that we screened the lower portion of our windows with curtains. they would climb up on the outside, and tier upon tier of gaunt, wretched faces would peer in above, to watch us, and see if indeed we were as ill provided as we represented ourselves. the noble old day-kau-ray came one day, from the barribault, to apprise us of the state of his village. more than forty of his people, he said, had now been for many days without food, save bark and roots. my husband accompanied him to the commanding officer to tell his story and ascertain if any amount of food could be obtained from that quarter. the result was, the promise of a small allowance of flour, sufficient to alleviate the cravings of his own family. when this was explained to the chief, he turned away. "no," he said, "if his people could not be relieved, he and his family would starve with them!" and he refused, for those nearest and dearest to him, the proffered succor, until all could share alike. the announcement, at length, that "the boats were in sight," was a thrilling and most joyful sound. hundreds of poor creatures were assembled on the bank, watching their arrival. oh! how torturing was their slow approach, by the winding course of the river, through the extended prairie! as the first boat touched the land, we, who were gazing on the scene with anxiety and impatience only equalled by that of the sufferers, could scarcely refrain from laughing, to see old wild-cat, who had somewhat fallen off in his huge amount of flesh, seize "the washington woman" in his arms and hug and dance with her in the ecstasy of his delight. their father made a sign to them all to fall to work with their hatchets, which they had long held ready, and in an incredibly short time barrel after barrel of corn was broken open and emptied, while even the little children possessed themselves of pans and kettles full, and hastened to the fires that were blazing around to parch and cook that which they had seized. from this time forward, there was no more destitution. the present abundance was immediately followed by the arrival of supplies for the commissary's department; and, refreshed and invigorated, our poor children departed once more to their villages, to make ready their crops for the ensuing season. in the course of the spring, we received a visit from the rev. mr. kent and mrs. kent, of galena. this event is memorable, as being the first occasion on which the gospel, according to the protestant faith, was preached at fort winnebago. the large parlor of the hospital was fitted up for the service, and gladly did we each say to the other, "let us go to the house of the lord!" for nearly three years had we lived here without the blessing of a public service of praise and thanksgiving. we regarded this commencement as an omen of better times, and our little "sewing-society" worked with renewed industry, to raise a fund which might be available hereafter in securing the permanent services of a missionary. * * * * * not long after this, on a fine spring morning, as we were seated at breakfast, a party of indians entered the parlor, and came to the door of the room where we were. two of them passed through, and went out upon a small portico--the third remained standing in the door-way at which he had at first appeared. he was nearly opposite me, and as i raised my eyes, spite of his change of dress, and the paint with which he was covered, i at once recognized him. i continued to pour the coffee, and, as i did so, i remarked to my husband, "the one behind you, with whom you are speaking, is one of the escaped prisoners." without turning his head, mr. kinzie continued to listen to all the directions they were giving him about the repairing of their guns, traps, etc., which they wished to leave with the blacksmith. as they went on, he carelessly turned towards the parlor door, and replied to the one speaking to him. when he again addressed me, it was to say,-- "you are right, but it is no affair of ours. we are none of us to look so as to give him notice that we suspect anything. they are undoubtedly innocent, and have suffered enough already." contrary to his usual custom, their father did not ask their names, but wrote their directions, which he tied to their different implements, and then bade them go and deliver them themselves to m. morrin. the rest of our circle were greatly pleased at the young fellow's audacity, and we quite longed to tell the officers that we could have caught one of their fugitives for them, if we had had a mind. * * * * * the time had now come when we began to think seriously of leaving our pleasant home, and taking up our residence at detroit, while making arrangements for a permanent settlement at chicago. this intelligence, when communicated to our winnebago children, brought forth great lamentations and demonstrations of regret. from the surrounding country they came flocking in, to inquire into the truth of the tidings they had heard, and to petition earnestly that we would continue to live and die among them. among them all, no one seemed so overwhelmed with affliction as elizabeth, our poor _cut-nose_. when we first told her of our intention, she sat for hours in the same spot, wiping away the tears that would find their way down her cheeks, with the corner of the chintz shawl she wore pinned across her bosom. "no! i never, never, never shall i find such friends again," she would exclaim. "you will go away, and i shall be left here _all alone_." wild-cat, too, the fat, jolly wild-cat, gave way to the most audible lamentations. "oh, my little brother," he said to the baby, on the morning of our departure, when he had insisted on taking him and seating him on his fat, dirty knee, "you will never come back to see your poor brother again!" and having taken an extra glass on the occasion, he wept like an infant. it was with sad hearts that on the morning of the st of july, , we bade adieu to the long cortége which followed us to the boat, now waiting to convey us to green bay, where we were to meet governor porter and mr. brush, and proceed, under their escort, to detroit. when they had completed their tender farewells, they turned to accompany their father across the portage, on his route to chicago, and long after, we could see them winding along the road, and hear their loud lamentations at a parting which they foresaw would be forever. appendix. i. as i have given throughout the narrative of the sauk war the impressions we received from our own observation, or from information furnished us at the time, i think it but justice to black hawk and his party to insert, by way of appendix, the following account, preserved among the manuscript records of the late thomas forsyth, esq., of st. louis, who, after residing among the indians many years as a trader, was, until the year , the agent of the sauks and foxes. the manuscript was written in , while black hawk and his compatriots were in prison at jefferson barracks. "the united states troops under the command of major stoddard arrived here[ ] and took possession of this country in the month of february, . in the spring of that year, a white person (a man or boy) was killed in cuivre settlement, by a sauk indian some time in the summer following, a party of united states troops were sent up to the sauk village on rocky biver, and a demand made of the sauk chiefs for the murderer. the sauk chiefs did not hesitate a moment, but delivered him up to the commander of the troops, who brought him down and delivered him over to the civil authority in this place (st. louis). "some time in the ensuing autumn some sauk and fox indians came to this place, and had a conversation with general harrison (then governor of indiana territory, and acting governor of this state, then territory of louisiana) on the subject of liberating their relative, then in prison at this place for the above-mentioned murder. "quash-quame, a sauk chief, who was the head man of this party, has repeatedly said, 'mr. pierre chouteau, sen., came several times to my camp, offering that if i would sell the lands on the east side of the mississippi river, governor harrison would liberate my relation (meaning the sauk indian then in prison as above related), to which i at last agreed, and sold the lands from the mouth of the illinois river up the mississippi river as high as the mouth of rocky river (now rock river), and east to the ridge that divides the waters of the mississippi and illinois rivers; but i never sold any more lands.' quash-quame also said to governor edwards, governor clarke, and mr. auguste chouteau, commissioners appointed to treat with the chippewas, ottawas, and pottowattamies of illinois river, in the summer of , for lands on the west side of illinois river,-- "'you white men may put on paper what you please, but again i tell you, i never sold any lands higher up the mississippi than the mouth of rocky river.' "in the treaty first mentioned, the line commences opposite to the mouth of gasconade river, and running in a direct line to the head-waters of jefferson[ ] river, thence down that river to the mississippi river--thence up the mississippi river to the mouth of the ouisconsin river--thence up that river thirty-six miles--thence in a direct line to a little lake in fox river of illinois, down fox river to illinois river, down illinois river to its mouth--thence down the mississippi river to the mouth of missouri river--thence up that river to the place of beginning. see treaty dated at st. louis, th november, . "the sauk and fox nations were never consulted, nor had any hand in this treaty, nor knew anything about it. it was made and signed by two sauk chiefs, one fox chief and one warrior. "when the annuities were delivered to the sauk and fox nations of indians, according to the treaty above referred to (amounting to $ per annum), the indians always thought they were presents (as the annuity for the first twenty years was always paid in goods, sent on from georgetown, district of columbia, and poor articles of merchandise they were, very often damaged and not suitable for indians), until i, as their agent, convinced them of the contrary, in the summer of . when the indians heard that the goods delivered to them were annuities for land sold by them to the united states, they were astonished, and refused to accept of the goods, denying that they ever sold the lands as stated by me, their agent. the black hawk in particular, who was present at the time, made a great noise about this land, and would never receive any part of the annuities from that time forward. he always denied the authority of quash-quame and others to sell any part of their lands, and told the indians not to receive any presents or annuities from any american--otherwise their lands would be claimed at some future day. "as the united states do insist, and retain the lands according to the treaty of november , , why do they not fulfil _their_ part of that treaty as equity demands? "the sauk and fox nations are allowed, according to that treaty, 'to live and hunt on the lands so ceded, as long as the aforesaid lands belong to the united states.' in the spring of the year , about twelve or fifteen families of squatters arrived and took possession of the sauk village, near the mouth of the rocky river. they immediately commenced destroying the indians' bark boats. some were burned, others were torn to pieces, and when the indians arrived at the village, and found fault with the destruction of their property, they were beaten and abused by the squatters. "the indians made complaint to me, as their agent. i wrote to general clarke,[ ] stating to him from time to time what happened, and giving a minute detail of everything that passed between the whites (squatters) and the indians. "the squatters insisted that the indians should be removed from their village, saying that as soon as the land was brought into market they (the squatters) would buy it all. it became needless for me to show them the treaty, and the right the indians had to remain on their lands. they tried every method to annoy the indians, by shooting their dogs, claiming their horses, complaining that the indians' horses broke into their corn-fields--selling them whiskey for the most trifling articles, contrary to the wishes and request of the chiefs, particularly the black hawk, who both solicited and threatened them on the subject, but all to no purpose. "the president directed those lands to be sold at the land office, in springfield, illinois. accordingly, when the time came that they were to be offered for sale (in the autumn of ), there were about twenty families of squatters at, and in the vicinity of, the old sauk village, most of whom attended the sale, and but one of them could purchase a quarter-section (if we except george davenport, a trader who resides in rocky island). therefore, all the land not sold, still belonged to the united states, and the indians had still a right, by treaty, to hunt and live on those lands. this right, however, was not allowed them--they must move off. "in , the principal chiefs, and others of the sauk and fox indians who resided at the old village, near rocky river, acquainted me that they would remove to their village on ihoway river. these chiefs advised me to write to general clarke, superintendent of indian affairs at this place (st. louis), to send up a few militia--that the black hawk and his followers would then see that everything was in earnest, and they would remove to the west side of the mississippi, to their own lands. "the letter, as requested by the chiefs, was written and sent by me to general clarke, but he did not think proper to answer it--therefore everything remained as formerly, and, as a matter of course, the black hawk and his party thought the whole matter of removing from the old village had blown over. "in the spring of , the black hawk and his party were augmented by many indians from ihoway river. this augmentation of forces made the black hawk very proud, and he supposed nothing would be done about removing him and his party. "general gaines visited the black hawk and his party this season, with a force of regulars and militia, and compelled them to remove to the west side of the mississippi river, on their own lands. "when the black hawk and party recrossed to the east side of the mississippi river in , they numbered three hundred and sixty-eight men. they were hampered with many women and children, and had no intention to make war. when attacked by general stillman's detachment, they defended themselves like men; and i would ask, who would not do so, likewise? thus the war commenced. * * * * * "the indians had been defeated, dispersed, and some of the principal chiefs are now in prison and in chains, at jefferson barracks.... "it is very well known, by all who know the black hawk, that he has always been considered a friend to the whites. often has he taken into his lodge the wearied white man, given him good food to eat, and a good blanket to sleep on before the fire. many a good meal has _the prophet_ given to people travelling past his village, and very many stray horses has he recovered from the indians and restored to their rightful owners, without asking any recompense whatever.... "what right have we to tell any people, 'you shall not cross the mississippi river on any pretext whatever'? when the sauk and fox indians wish to cross the mississippi, to visit their relations among the pottowattamies of fox river, illinois, they are prevented by us, _because we have the power_!" i omit the old gentleman's occasional comments upon the powers that dictated, and the forces which carried on, the warfare of this unhappy summer. there is every reason to believe that had his suggestions been listened to, and had he continued the agent of the sauks and foxes, a sad record might have been spared,--we should assuredly not have been called to chronicle the untimely fate of his successor, the unfortunate m. st. vrain, who, a comparative stranger to his people, was murdered by them, in their exasperated fury, at kellogg's grove, soon after the commencement of the campaign. ii. it seems appropriate to notice in this place the subsequent appearance before the public of one of the personages casually mentioned in the foregoing narrative. in the autumn of we saw advertised for exhibition at wood's museum, chicago, "the most remarkable instance of longevity on record--the venerable joseph crély, born on the th of september, , and having consequently reached, at this date, the age of one hundred and thirty-nine years!" sundry particulars followed of his life and history, and, above all, of his recollections. "well done for old crély!" said my husband, when he had gone through the long array. "come, let us go over to wood's museum and renew our acquaintance with the venerable gentleman." i did not need a second invitation, for i was curious to witness the wonders which the whirligig of time had wrought with our old _employé_. we chose an early hour for our visit, that we might pay our respects to both him and the granddaughter who had him in charge, unembarrassed by the presence of strangers. in a large room on the second floor of the building, among cages of birds and animals, some stuffed, others still living, we perceived, seated by a window, a figure clad in bright cashmere dressing-gown and gay tasselled cap, tranquilly smoking a tah-nee-hoo-rah, or long indian pipe. his form was upright, his face florid, and less changed than might have been expected by the thirty-one years that had elapsed since we had last seen him. he was alone, and my husband addressed him at first in english:-- "good-morning, m. crély. do you remember me?" he shook his head emphatically. "je ne comprends pas. je ne me ressouviens de rien--je suis vieux, vieux--le treize septembre, mil sept cent vingt-six, je suis né. non, non," with a few gentle shakes of the head, "je ne puis rappeler rien--je suis vieux, vieux."[ ] my husband changed his inquiries to the patois which crély could not feign not to comprehend. "where is your granddaughter? i am acquainted with her, and would like to speak with her." the old man sprang up with the greatest alacrity, and, running to a door in the wooden partition which cut off a corner of the room and thus furnished an apartment for the ancient phenomenon, he rapped vigorously, and called, in accents quite unlike his former feeble, drawling tones,-- "thérèse, thérèse--il y a icite un monsieur qui voudrait vous voir."[ ] the granddaughter presently made her appearance. she looked shyly at my husband from under her brows. "do you know me, thérèse?" he asked. "yes, sir. it is mr. kinzie." "and do you know me also?" i said, approaching. she looked at me and shook her head. "no, i do not," she replied. "what, thérèse! have you forgotten madame john, who taught you to read--you and all the little girls at the portage?" "oh, my heavens, mrs. kinzie!--but you have changed so!" "yes, thérèse, i have grown old in all these years; but i have not grown old quite so fast as your grandpapa here." there was a flash in her eye that told she felt my meaning. she hung her head without speaking, while the color deepened over her countenance. "now," said i, in french, to the grandfather, "you remember me--" he interrupted me with a protest, "non, non--je ne puis rappeler rien--je suis vieux, vieux--le treize septembre, mil sept cent vingt-six, je suis né à detroit." "and you recollect," i went on, not heeding his formula, "how i came to the portage a bride, and lived in the old cabins that the soldiers had occupied--" "eh b'an! oui--oui--" "and how you helped make the garden for me--and how plante and manaigre finished the new house so nicely while monsieur john was away for the silver--and how there was a feast after it was completed--" "ah! oui, oui--pour le sûr." "and where are all our people now?" i asked, turning to thérèse. "louis frum _dit_ manaigre--is he living?" "oh, madame kinzie! you remember that--manaigre having two names?" "yes, thérèse--i remember everything connected with those old times at the portage. who among our people there are living?" "only manaigre is left," she said. "mais, mais, thérèse," interposed the old man, "manaigre's daughter geneviève is living." it was a comfort to find our visit of such miraculous benefit to his memory. "and the puans--are any of them left?" i asked. "not more than ten or twelve, i think--" again her grandfather promptly contradicted her:-- "mais, mais, je compte b'an qu'il y en a quinze ou seize, thérèse;" and he went quite glibly over the names of such of his red friends as still hovered around their old home in that vicinity. he was in the full tide of gay reminiscence, touching upon experiences and adventures of long ago, and recalling indian and half-breed acquaintances of former days, when footsteps approached, and the entrance of eager, curious visitors suddenly reminded him of his appointed rôle. it was marvellous how instantaneously he subsided into the superannuated driveller who was to bear away the bell from old parr and all the emperor alexander's far-sought fossils. "je suis vieux, vieux--l'an mil sept cent vingt-six--le treize septembre, à detroit--- je ne puis rappeler rien." not another phrase could "all the king's armies, or all the king's men," have extorted from him. so we left him to the admiring comments of the new-comers. i think it should be added, in extenuation of what would otherwise seem a gross imposture, that his granddaughter was really ignorant of crély's exact age--that he, being ever a gasconading fellow, was quite ready to personate that certain joseph crély whose name appears on the baptismal records of the church in detroit of the year . he was, moreover, pleased with the idea of being gaily dressed and going on a tour to see the world, and doubtless rejoiced, also, in the prospect of relieving his poor granddaughter of a part of the burden of his maintenance. he was probably at this time about ninety-five years of age. there are those that knew him from , who maintain that his age was a few years less; but i take the estimate of mr. kinzie and h.l. dousman, of prairie du chien, who set him down, in , at about the age i have assigned to him. the end. footnotes: [footnote : corn which has been parboiled, shelled from the cob, and dried in the sun.] [footnote : literally, _crazy oats_. it is the french name for the menomonees.] [footnote : _le forgeron_, or blacksmith, a menomonee chief.] [footnote : a niece of james fenimore cooper.] [footnote : master--or, to use the emphatic yankee term, _boss_.] [footnote : michaud climbed into a plum-tree, to gather plums. the branch broke. _michaud fell_! where is he? _he is down on the ground_. no, he is up in the tree.] [footnote : the supposed dauphin of france.] [footnote : the site of the town of nee-nah.] [footnote : the bark of the red willow, scraped fine, which is preferred by the indians to tobacco.] [footnote : general cass was then governor of michigan, and superintendent of the northwestern indians.] [footnote : in the year .] [footnote : father! how do you do?] [footnote : only look! what inventions! what wonders!] [footnote : between two of these lakes is now situated the town of madison--the capital of the state of wisconsin.] [footnote : i speak, it will be understood, of things as they existed a quarter of a century ago.] [footnote : it was at this spot that the unfortunate st. vrain lost his life, during the sauk war, in .] [footnote : probably at what is now oswego. the name of a portion of the wood is since corrupted into _specie's grove_.] [footnote : the honey-bee is not known in the perfectly wild countries of north america. it is ever the pioneer of civilization, and the indians call it "_the white man's bird_."] [footnote : it was near this spot that the brother of mr. hawley, a methodist preacher, was killed by the sauks, in , after having been tortured by them with the most wanton barbarity.] [footnote : rivière aux plaines was the original french designation, now changed to _desplaines_, pronounced as in english.] [footnote : .] [footnote : see frontispiece.] [footnote : since called n. state street ( ).] [footnote : i can recall a petition that was circulated at the garrison about this period, for "building a brigg over michigan city." by altering the orthography, it was found to mean, not the stupendous undertaking it would seem to imply, but simply "building a bridge" over _at_ michigan city,--an accommodation much needed by travellers at that day.] [footnote : the proper orthography of this word is undoubtedly _slough_, as it invariably indicates something like that which christian fell into in flying from the city of destruction. i spell it, however, as it is pronounced.] [footnote : a gentleman who visited chicago at that day, thus speaks of it: "i passed over the ground from the fort to the point, on horseback. i was up to my stirrups in water the whole distance. i would not have given sixpence an acre for the whole of it."] [footnote : see narrative of the massacre, p. .] [footnote : mr. cat.] [footnote : this narrative, first published in pamphlet form in , was transferred, with little variation, to brown's "history of illinois," and to a work called "western annals." it was likewise made, by major richardson, the basis of his two tales, "hardscrabble," and "wau-nan-gee."] [footnote : burns's house stood near the spot where the agency building, or "cobweb castle," was afterwards erected, at the foot of n. state street.] [footnote : this is done by cutting the meat in thin slices, placing it upon a scaffold, and making a fire under it, which dries it and smokes it at the same time.] [footnote : a trading-establishment--now ypsilanti.] [footnote : captain wells, when a boy, was stolen, by the miami indians, from the family of hon. nathaniel pope, in kentucky. although recovered by them, he preferred to return and live among his new friends. he married a miami woman, and became a chief of the nation. he was the father of the late mrs. judge wolcott, of maumee, ohio.] [footnote : the spot now called bertrand, then known as _parc aux vaches,_ from its having been a favorite "stamping-ground" of the buffalo which then abounded in the country.] [footnote : the exact spot of this encounter was about where st street crosses indiana avenue.] [footnote : along the present state street.] [footnote : mrs. holt is believed to be still living, in the state of ohio.] [footnote : billy caldwell was a half-breed, and a chief of the nation. in his reply, "_i am a sau-ga-nash_," or englishman, he designed to convey, "i am a _white_ man." had he said, "_i am a pottowattamie_," it would have been interpreted to mean, "i belong to my nation, and am prepared to go all lengths with them."] [footnote : frenchman.] [footnote : the pottowattamie chief, so well known to many of the citizens of chicago, now ( ) residing at the aux plaines.] [footnote : twenty-two years after this, as i was on a journey to chicago in the steamer uncle sam, a young woman, hearing my name, introduced herself to me, and, raising the hair from her forehead, showed me the mark of the tomahawk which had so nearly been fatal to her.] [footnote : although this is the name our mother preserved of her benefactor, it seems evident that this chief was in fact _corn-planter_, a personage well known in the history of the times. there could hardly have been two such prominent chiefs in the same village.] [footnote : from the french--_tranche_, a deep cut.] [footnote : it is a singular fact that all the martins, of which there were great numbers occupying the little houses constructed for them by the soldiers, were observed to have disappeared from their homes on the morning following the embarkation of the troops. after an absence of five days they returned. they had perhaps taken a fancy to accompany their old friends, but, finding they were not mother carey's chickens, deemed it most prudent to return and reoccupy their old dwellings.] [footnote : it is now known as dunkley's grove.] [footnote : how the woods talk!] [footnote : it will be remembered that these were the arguments used at a period when the indians possessed most of the broad lands on the upper mississippi and its tributaries--when they were still allowed some share of the blessings of life.] [footnote : the indians, in relating a story like this, apologize for alluding to a revolting subject. "you will think this _unpleasant_," they say.] [footnote : come in, my daughter.] [footnote : the indians sing these words to an air peculiar to themselves.] [footnote : three streams or water courses of that region.] [footnote : see appendix.] [footnote : as "the venerable joseph crély" has become historic from his claim to have reached the age of one hundred and thirty-nine years, i will state that at this period ( ) he was a hale, hearty man of sixty years or less.] [footnote : the indians who had "been at washington" were very fond of calling their father thus. black wolf's son would go further, and vociferate "k'hizzie," to show his familiarity.] [footnote : fisher's hornpipe.] [footnote : general atkinson.] [footnote : a belt of land termed the neutral ground of the different opposing nations.] [footnote : st. louis, mo.] [footnote : there is no such river in this country, therefore this treaty is null and void--of no effect in law or equity. such was the opinion of the late governor howard. (t.f.)] [footnote : superintendent of indian affairs at st. louis.] [footnote : i do not understand. i remember nothing. i am very, very old--the thirteenth of september, , i was born. no, no--i can recollect nothing. i am old, old.] [footnote : thérèse, there is a gentleman here who wishes to see you.] wisconsin geological and natural history survey. e. a. birge, director. c. r. van hise, consulting geologist. bulletin no. v. educational series no. . the geography of the region about devil's lake and the dalles of the wisconsin, with some notes on its surface geology. by rollin d. salisbury, a. m., _professor of geographic geology, university of chicago,_ and wallace w. atwood, b. s., _assistant in geology, university of chicago._ madison, wis. published by the state. . wisconsin geological and natural history survey. ------------------------------------------------------------------- board of commissioners. edward scofield, governor of the state. l. d. harvey, state superintendent of public instruction. charles k. adams, president, president of the university of wisconsin. edwin e. bryant, vice-president, president of the commissioners of fisheries. charles s. slichter, secretary, president of the wisconsin academy of sciences, arts, and letters. -------------------------------------------------------------- e. a. birge, director of the survey. c. r. van hise, consulting geologist. e. r. buckley, assistant geologist. in charge of economic geology. s. weidman, assistant geologist. in charge of geology of wausau district. l. s. smith, in charge of hydrography. s. v. peppel, chemist. f. r. denniston, artist. [illustration: the dalles of the wisconsin.] contents. --------------------------------------------------------- part i. the topography with some notes on the surface geology. chapter i. general geographic features i. the plain surrounding the quartzite ridges. topography structure origin of the sandstone and limestone origin of the topography ii. the quartzite ridges topography the structure and constitution of the ridges iii. relations of the sandstone of the plain to the quartzite of the ridges part ii. history of the topography. chapter ii. outline of the history of the rock formations which show themselves at the surface. i. the pre-cambrian history of the quartzite from loose sand to quartzite uplift and deformation. dynamic metamorphism erosion of the quartzite thickness of the quartzite ii. the history of the paleozoic strata the subsidence the potsdam sandstone (and conglomerate) the lower magnesian limestone the st. peters sandstone younger beds climatic conditions time involved the uplift chapter iii. general outline of rain and river erosion elements of erosion weathering corrasion erosion without valleys the beginning of a valley the course of a valley tributary valleys how a valley gets a stream limits of a valley a cycle of erosion effects of unequal hardness falls and rapids narrows erosion of folded strata base-level plains and peneplains transportation and deposition topographic forms resulting from stream deposition rejuvenation of streams underground water chapter iv. erosion and the development of striking scenic features establishment of drainage striking scenic features the baraboo bluffs the narrows in the quartzite glens natural bridge the dalles of the wisconsin the mounds and castle rocks chapter v. the glacial period. the drift snow fields and ice sheets the north american ice sheets the work of glacier ice erosive work of ice. effect on topography deposition by the ice. effect on topography direction of ice movement effect of topography on movement glacial deposits the ground moraine constitution topography terminal moraines topography of terminal moraines the terminal moraine about devil's lake the moraine on the main quartzite range constitution of the marginal ridge the slope of the upper surface of the ice at the margin stratified drift its origin glacial drainage stages in the history of an ice sheet deposits made by extraglacial waters during the maximum extension of the ice at the edge of the ice, on land beyond the edge of the ice, on land deposits at and beyond the edge of the ice in standing water deposits made by extraglacial waters during the retreat of the ice deposits made by extraglacial waters during the advance of the ice deposits made by subglacial streams relations of stratified to unstratified drift complexity of relations classification of stratified drift on the basis of position extraglacial deposits supermorainic deposits the submorainic (basal) deposits intermorainic stratified drift changes in drainage effected by the ice while the ice was on wisconsin lake baraboo lake devil's lake in glacial times after the ice had disappeared lakes existing lakes changes in streams skillett creek the wisconsin the driftless area contrast between glaciated and unglaciated areas topography drainage mantle rock list of illustrations. ------------------------------------------------------------ plates. plate frontispiece. the dalles of the wisconsin i. general map of the devil's lake region ii. local map of the devil's lake region iii. fig. --ripple marks on a slab of sandstone fig. --piece of potsdam conglomerate iv. lower narrows of the baraboo v. devil's lake notch vi. east bluff of devil's lake vii. east bluff at the upper narrows of the baraboo near ableman's viii. vertical shear zone face of east bluff at devil's lake ix. massive quartzite in situ in road through upper narrows near ableman's x. brecciated quartzite xi. northwest wall of the upper narrows xii. steamboat rock xiii. fig. --a very young valley fig. --a valley at later stage of development fig. --young valleys xiv. fig. --same valleys as shown in pl. xiii, fig. , but at a later stage of development fig. --same valleys as shown in fig. in later stage of development xv. diagram illustrating how a hard inclined layer of rock becomes a ridge in the process of degradation xvi. skillett falls xvii. a group of mounds on the plain northwest from camp douglas xviii. castle rock near camp douglas xix. fig. --sketch of a young valley fig. --same valleys as shown in fig. in later stage of development xx. fig. --sketch of a part of a valley at a stage of development corresponding to the cross section shown in figure fig. --sketch of a section of the baraboo valley xxi. cleopatra's needle xxii. turk's head xxiii. devil's doorway xxiv. talus slope on east bluff of devil's lake xxv. dorward's glen xxvi. natural bridge near denzer xxvii. the navy yard xxviii. chimney rock xxix. an island in the lower dalles xxx. view in lower dalles xxxi. stand rock xxxii. petenwell peak xxxiii. north american ice sheet xxxiv. owl's head xxxv. cut in glacial drift xxxvi. glaciated stones xxxvii. topographic map of a small area about devil's lake xxxviii. distorted laminæ of silt and clay figures in text. figure . profile across the baraboo quartzite ranges through baraboo . profile across the baraboo ranges through merrimac transcriber's note: there is no figure . . diagram showing the structure of the quartzite . diagram showing the relation of the potsdam sandstone to the baraboo quartzite . diagram illustrating effect of faulting on outcrop . diagram showing the disposition of sediments about an island . the same as after subsidence . diagram showing relation of potsdam conglomerate to quartzite at devil's lake . cross section of a delta . the geological formations of southern wisconsin . a typical river system . diagram illustrating the relations of ground water to streams . diagram illustrating the shifting of divides . diagram showing topography at the various stages of an erosion cycle . diagram illustrating the development of rapids and falls . sketch looking northwest from camp douglas . diagrammatic cross section of a young valley . diagrammatic profile of a young valley . diagrammatic cross section of a valley in a later stage of development . the same at a still later stage . diagram illustrating the topographic effect or rejuvenation of a stream by uplift . normal profile of a valley bottom . profile of a stream rejuvenated by uplift . diagram illustrating monoclinal shifting . diagram showing the relation of the potsdam sandstone to the quartzite at the upper narrows . diagrammatic cross section of a field of ice and snow . shape of an erosion hill before glaciation . the same after glaciation . diagram showing the effect of a valley on the movement of ice . the same under different conditions . diagram showing the relation of drift to the underlying rock where the drift is thick . the same where the drift is relatively thin . diagrammatic representation of the effect of a hill on the edge of the ice . the same at a later stage of the ice advance . map showing the relation of the ice lobes during the wisconsin epoch of the glacial period . sketch of the terminal moraine topography east of devil's lake . cut through the terminal moraine east of kirkland . cross section of the marginal ridge of the moraine on the south slope of the devil's nose . cross section of the marginal ridge of the moraine on the crest of the quartzite range . morainic outwash plain . the same in other relations . skillett creek and its peculiarities . the wisconsin valley near kilbourn city . drainage in the driftless area . drainage in the glaciated area . section in the driftless region showing relation of the soil to the solid rock beneath part i. ------------------------------------------------------------ the topography. with some notes on the surface geology. geography and surface geology of the devil's lake region. chapter i. general geographic features. this report has to do with the physical geography of the area in south central wisconsin, shown on the accompanying sketch map, plate i. the region is of especial interest, both because of its striking scenery, and because it illustrates clearly many of the principles involved in the evolution of the geography of land surfaces. generally speaking, the region is an undulating plain, above which rise a few notable elevations, chief among which are the baraboo quartzite ranges, marked by diagonal lines on plates i and ii. these elevations have often been described as two ranges. the south or main range lies three miles south of baraboo, while the north or lesser range, which is far from continuous, lies just north of the city. the main range has a general east-west trend, and rises with bold and sometimes precipitous slopes to feet above its surroundings. a deep gap three or four miles south of baraboo (plates ii, v, and xxxvii) divides the main range into an eastern and a western portion, known respectively as the _east and west bluffs_ or _ranges_. in the bottom of the gap lies devil's lake (i, plate ii and plate xxxvii), perhaps the most striking body of water of its size in the state, if not in the whole northern interior. a general notion of the topography of a small area in the immediate vicinity of the lake may be obtained from plate xxxvii. the highest point in the range is about four miles east of the lake, and has an elevation of more than , feet above sea level, more than , feet above lake michigan, and about feet above the baraboo valley at its northern base. the eastward extension of the west range (plate xxxvii) lying south of the lake, and popularly known as the _devil's nose_, reaches an elevation of a little more than , feet. the lesser or north quartzite range (plate ii) rises feet to feet above its surroundings. it assumes considerable prominence at the upper and lower narrows of the baraboo (b and c, plate ii, c, plate xxxvii and plate iv). the north range is not only lower than the south range, but its slopes are generally less steep, and, as plate ii shows, it is also less continuous. the lesser elevation and the gentler slopes make it far less conspicuous. about three miles southwest of portage (plate ii) the north and south ranges join, and the elevation at the point of union is about feet above the wisconsin river a few miles to the east. the lower country above which these conspicuous ridges rise, has an average elevation of about , feet above the sea, and extends far beyond the borders of the area with which this report is concerned. the rock underlying it in the vicinity of baraboo is chiefly sandstone, but there is much limestone farther east and south, in the area with which the baraboo region is topographically continuous. both the sandstone and limestone are much less resistant than the quartzite, and this difference has had much to do with the topography of the region. the distinctness of the quartzite ridges as topographic features is indicated in plate xxxvii by the closeness of the contour lines on their slopes. the same features are shown in figs. and , which represent profiles along two north-south lines passing through baraboo and merrimac respectively. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. i. general map showing the location of the chief points mentioned in this report. the location of the area shown in plate xxxvii, centering about baraboo, is indicated.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. ii. map of area considered in this report.] [illustration: fig. .--profile along a line extending due north and south from baraboo across the north and south ranges. the dotted continuation northward, represents the extension of the profile beyond the topographic map, plate xxxvii.] [illustration: fig. .--profile north from merrimac across the quartzite ranges. the dotted continuation northward represents the extension of the profile beyond the topographic map, plate xxxvii.] i. the plain surrounding the quartzite ridges. _topography._--as seen from the top of the quartzite ridges, the surrounding country appears to be an extensive plain, but at closer range it is seen to have considerable relief although there are extensive areas where the surface is nearly flat. the relief of the surface is of two somewhat different types. in some parts of the area, especially in the western part of the tract shown on plate ii, the surface is made up of a succession of ridges and valleys. the ridges may be broken by depressions at frequent intervals, but the valleys are nowhere similarly interrupted. it would rarely be possible to walk along a ridge or "divide" for many miles without descending into valleys; but once in a valley in any part of the area, it may be descended without interruption, until the baraboo, the wisconsin, the mississippi, and finally the gulf is reached. in other words, the depressions are continuous, but the elevations are not. this is the first type of topography. where this type of topography prevails its relation to drainage is evident at a glance. all the larger depressions are occupied by streams continuously, while the smaller ones contain running water during some part of the year. the relations of streams to the depressions, and the wear which the streams effect, whether they be permanent or temporary, suggest that running water is at least one of the agencies concerned in the making of valleys. an idea of the general arrangement of the valleys, as well as many suggestions concerning the evolution of the topography of the broken plain in which they lie might be gained by entering a valley at its head, and following it wherever it leads. at its head, the valley is relatively narrow, and its slopes descend promptly from either side in such a manner that a cross-section of the valley is v-shaped. in places, as west of camp douglas, the deep, steep-sided valleys are found to lead down and out from a tract of land so slightly rolling as to be well adapted to cultivation. following down the valley, its progressive increase in width and depth is at once evident, and at the same time small tributary valleys come in from right and left. at no great distance from the heads of the valleys, streams are found in their bottoms. as the valleys increase in width and depth, and as the tributaries become more numerous and wider, the topography of which the valleys are a feature, becomes more and more broken. at first the tracts between the streams are in the form of ridges, wide if parallel valleys are distant from one another, and narrow if they are near. the ridges wind with the valleys which separate them. whatever the width of the inter-stream ridges, it is clear that they must become narrower as the valleys between them become wider, and in following down a valley a point is reached, sooner or later, where the valleys, main and tributary, are of such size and so numerous that their slopes constitute a large part of the surface. where this is true, and where the valleys are deep, the land is of little industrial value except for timber and grazing. when, in descending a valley system, this sort of topography is reached, the roads often follow either the valleys or the ridges, however indirect and crooked they may be. where the ridges separating the valleys in such a region have considerable length, they are sometimes spoken of as "hog backs." still farther down the valley system, tributary valleys of the second and lower orders cross the "hog backs," cutting them into hills. by the time this sort of topography is reached, a series of flats is found bordering the streams. these flats may occur on both sides of the stream, or on but one. the topography and the soil of these flats are such as to encourage agriculture, and the river flats or alluvial plains are among the choicest farming lands. with increasing distance from the heads of the valleys, these river plains are expanded, and may be widened so as to occupy the greater part of the surface. the intervening elevations are there relatively few and small. their crests, however, often rise to the same level as that of the broader inter-stream areas farther up the valleys. the relations of the valleys and the high lands separating them, is such as to suggest that there are, generally speaking, two sets of flat surfaces, the higher one representing the upland in which the valleys lie, the lower one representing the alluvial plains of the streams. the two sets of flats are at once separated and connected by slopes. at the head of a drainage system, the upland flats predominate; in the lower courses, the river plains; in an intermediate stage, the slopes are more conspicuous than either upper or lower flat. southwest from devil's lake and northwest from sauk city, in the valley of honey creek, and again in the region southwest from camp douglas, the topography just described is well illustrated. in both these localities, as in all others where this type of topography prevails, the intimate relations of topography and drainage cannot fail to suggest that the streams which are today widening and deepening the valleys through which they flow, had much to do with their origin and development. this hypothesis, as applied to the region under consideration, may be tested by the study of the structure of the plain. the second type of topography affecting the plain about the quartzite ranges is found east of a line running from kilbourn city to a point just north of prairie du sac. though in its larger features the area east of this line resembles that to the west, its minor features are essentially different. here there are many depressions which have no outlets, and marshes, ponds, and small lakes abound. not only this, but many of the lesser elevations stand in no definite relation to valleys. the two types of topography make it clear that they were developed in different ways. _structure._--examination of the country surrounding the baraboo ridges shows that its surface is underlaid at no great depth by horizontal or nearly horizontal beds of sandstone and limestone (see plates xvi, xxviii, and frontispiece). these beds are frequently exposed on opposite sides of a valley, and in such positions the beds of one side are found to match those on the other. this is well shown along the narrow valley of skillett creek just above the "pewit's nest." here the swift stream is rapidly deepening its channel, and it is clear that a few years hence, layers of sandstone which are now continuous beneath the bed of the creek will have been cut through, and their edges will appear on opposite sides of the valley just as higher layers do now. here the most skeptical might be convinced that the layers of rock on either side of the narrow gorge were once continuous across it, and may see, at the same time, the means by which the separation was effected. between the slight separation, here, where the valley is narrow, and the great separation where the valleys are wide, there are all gradations. the study of progressively wider valleys, commencing with such a gorge as that referred to, leaves no room for doubt that even the wide valleys, as well as the narrow ones, were cut out of the sandstone by running water. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. iii. illustration: fig. . ripple marks on a slab of potsdam sandstone. illustration: fig. . piece of potsdam conglomerate. the larger pebbles are about three inches in diameter.] the same conclusion as to the origin of the valleys may be reached in another way. either the beds of rock were formed with their present topography, or the valleys have been excavated in them since they were formed. their mode of origin will therefore help to decide between these alternatives. _origin of the sandstone and limestone._--the sandstone of the region, known as the potsdam sandstone, consists of medium sized grains of sand, cemented together by siliceous, ferruginous, or calcareous cement. if the cement were removed, the sandstone would be reduced to sand, in all respect similar to that accumulating along the shores of seas and lakes today. the surfaces of the separate layers of sandstone are often distinctly ripple-marked (fig. , pl. iii), and the character of the markings is identical in all essential respects with the ripples which affect the surface of the sand along the shores of devil's lake, or sandy beaches elsewhere, at the present time. these ripple marks on the surfaces of the sandstone layers must have originated while the sand was movable, and therefore before it was cemented into sandstone. in the beds of sandstone, fossils of marine animals are found. shells, or casts of shells of various sorts are common, as are also the tracks and burrowings of animals which had no shells. among these latter signs of life may be mentioned the borings of worms. these borings are not now always hollow, but their fillings are often so unlike the surrounding rock, that they are still clearly marked. these worm borings, like the ripple marks, show that the sand was once loose. the basal beds of the sandstone are often conglomeratic. the conglomeratic layers are made up of water-worn pieces of quartzite, plate iii, fig. , ranging in size from small pebbles to large bowlders. the interstices of the coarse material are filled by sand, and the whole cemented into solid rock. the conglomeratic phase of the sandstone may be seen to advantage at parfrey's glen (a, plate xxxvii) and dorward's glen, (b, same plate) on the east bluff of devil's lake above the cliff house, and at the upper narrows of the baraboo, near ablemans. it is also visible at numerous other less accessible and less easily designated places. from these several facts, viz.: the horizontal strata, the ripple-marks on the surfaces of the layers, the fossils, the character of the sand, and the water-worn pebbles and bowlders of the basal conglomerate, positive conclusions concerning the origin of the formation may be drawn. the arrangement in definite layers proves that the formation is sedimentary; that is, that its materials were accumulated in water whither they had been washed from the land which then existed. the ripple-marks show that the water in which the beds of sand were deposited was shallow, for in such water only are ripple-marks made.[ ] once developed on the surface of the sand they may be preserved by burial under new deposits, just as ripple-marks on sandy shores are now being buried and preserved. [ ] ripple marks are often seen on the surface of wind-blown sand, but the other features of this sandstone show that this was not its mode of accumulation. the conglomerate beds of the formation corroborate the conclusions to which the composition and structure of the sandstone point. the water-worn shapes of the pebbles and stones show that they were accumulated in water, while their size shows that the water must have been shallow, for stones of such sizes are handled only by water of such slight depth that waves or strong currents are effective at the bottom. furthermore, the large bowlders show that the source of supply (quartzite) must have been close at hand, and that therefore land composed of this rock must have existed not far from the places where the conglomerate is found. the fossils likewise are the fossils of aquatic life. not only this, but they are the fossils of animals which lived in salt water. the presence of salt water, that is, the sea, in this region when the sand of the sandstone was accumulating, makes the wide extent of the formation rational. from the constitution and structure of the sandstone, it is therefore inferred that it accumulated in shallow sea water, and that, in the vicinity of devil's lake, there were land masses (islands) of quartzite which furnished the pebbles and bowlders found in the conglomerate beds at the base of the formation. this being the origin of the sandstone, it is clear that the layers which now appear on opposite sides of valleys must once have been continuous across the depressions; for the sand accumulated in shallow water is never deposited so as to leave valleys between ridges. it is deposited in beds which are continuous over considerable areas. within the area under consideration, limestone is much less widely distributed than sandstone. thin beds of it alternate with layers of sandstone in the upper portion of the potsdam formation, and more massive beds lie above the sandstone on some of the higher elevations of the plain about the quartzite ridge. this is especially true in the southern and southwestern parts of the region shown on plate ii. the limestone immediately overlying the sandstone is the _lower magnesian_ limestone. the beds of limestone, like those of the sandstone beneath, are horizontal or nearly so, and the upper formation lies conformably on the lower. the limestone does not contain water-worn pebbles, and the surfaces of its layers are rarely if ever ripple-marked; yet the arrangement of the rock in distinct layers which carry fossils of marine animals shows that the limestone, like the sandstone beneath, was laid down in the sea. the bearing of this origin of the limestone on the development of the present valleys is the same as that of the sandstone. _origin of the topography._--the topography of the plain surrounding the quartzite ridges, especially that part lying west of devil's lake, is then an erosion topography, developed by running water. its chief characteristic is that every depression leads to a lower one, and that the form of the elevations, hills or ridges, is determined by the valleys. the valleys were made; the hills and ridges left. if the material carried away by the streams could be returned, the valleys would be filled to the level of the ridges which bound them. were this done, the restored surface would be essentially flat. it is the sculpturing of such a plain, chiefly by running water, which has given rise to the present topography. in the development of this topography the more resistant limestone has served as a capping, tending to preserve the hills and ridges. thus many of the hills, especially in the southwest portion of the area shown in plate ii, are found to have caps of the lower magnesian formation. such hills usually have flat tops and steep or even precipitous slopes down to the base of the capping limestone, while the sandstone below, weathering more readily, gives the lower portions of the hills a gentler slope. the elevations of the hills and ridges above the axes of the valleys or, in other words, the relief of the plain is, on the average, about feet, only a few of the more prominent hills exceeding that figure. the topography east of the line between kilbourn city and prairie du sac is not of the unmodified erosion type, as is made evident by marshes, ponds and lakes. the departure from the erosion type is due to a mantle of glacial drift which masks the topography of the bedded rock beneath. its nature, and the topographic modifications which it has produced, will be more fully considered in a later part of this report. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. iv. the lower narrows of the baraboo from a point on the south range.] ii. the quartzite ridges. _topography._--the south or main quartzite range, about miles in length and one to four miles in width, rises feet to feet above the surrounding sandstone plain. its slopes are generally too steep for cultivation, and are clothed for the most part with a heavy growth of timber, the banks of forest being broken here and there by cultivated fields, or by the purple grey of the rock escarpments too steep for trees to gain a foothold. with the possible exception of the blue mounds southwest of madison, this quartzite range is the most obtrusive topographic feature of southern wisconsin. as approached from the south, one of the striking features of the range is its nearly even crest. extending for miles in an east-west direction, its summit gives a sky-line of long and gentle curves, in which the highest points are but little above the lowest. viewed from the north, the evenness of the crest is not less distinct, but from this side it is seen to be interrupted by a notable break or notch at devil's lake (plates v and xxxvii). the pass across the range makes a right-angled turn in crossing the range, and for this reason is not seen from the south. the north or lesser quartzite range lying north of baraboo is both narrower and lower than the south range, and its crest is frequently interrupted by notches or passes, some of which are wide. near its eastern end occurs the striking gap known as the _lower narrows_ (plate iv) through which the baraboo river escapes to the northward, flowing thence to the wisconsin. at this narrows the quartzite bluffs rise abruptly feet above the river. at a and b, plate ii, there are similar though smaller breaks in the range, also occupied by streams. the connection between the passes and streams is therefore close. there are many small valleys in the sides of the quartzite ranges (especially the south range) which do not extend back to their crests, and therefore do not occasion passes across them. the narrow valleys at a and b in plate xxxvii, known as parfrey's and dorward's glens, respectively, are singularly beautiful gorges, and merit mention as well from the scenic as from the geologic point of view. wider valleys, the heads of which do not reach the crest, occur on the flanks of the main range (as at d and e, plate ii) at many points. one such valley occurs east of the north end of the lake (x, plate xxxvii), another west of the south end (y, plate xxxvii), another on the north face of the west bluff west of the north end of the lake and between the east and west sauk roads, and still others at greater distances from the lake in both directions. it is manifest that if the valleys were extended headward in the direction of their axes, they would interrupt the even crest. many of these valleys, unlike the glens mentioned above, are very wide in proportion to their length. in some of these capacious valleys there are beds of potsdam sandstone, showing that the valleys existed before the sand of the sandstone was deposited. _the structure and constitution of the ridges._--the quartzite of the ridges is nothing more nor less than altered sandstone. its origin dates from that part of geological time known to geologists as the upper huronian period. the popular local belief that the quartzite is of igneous origin is without the slightest warrant. it appears to have had its basis in the notion that devil's lake occupies an extinct volcanic crater. were this the fact, igneous rock should be found about it. quartzite is sandstone in which the intergranular spaces have been filled with silica (quartz) brought in and deposited by percolating water subsequent to the accumulation of the sand. the conversion of sandstone into quartzite is but a continuation of the process which converts sand into sandstone. the potsdam or any other sandstone formation might be converted into quartzite by the same process, and it would then be a _metamorphic_ rock. like the sandstone, the quartzite is in layers. this is perhaps nowhere so distinctly shown on a large scale as in the bluffs at devil's lake, and at the east end of the devil's nose. on the east bluff of the lake, the stratification is most distinctly seen from the middle of the lake, from which point the photograph reproduced in plate vi was taken. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. v. the notch in the south quartzite range, at devil's lake.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. vi. the east bluff of devil's lake, showing the dip of quartzite (to the left), and talus above and below the level where the beds are shown.] unlike the sandstone and limestone, the beds of quartzite are not horizontal. the departure from horizontality, technically known as the _dip_, varies from point to point (fig. ). in the east bluff of the lake as shown in plate vi, the dip is about ° to the north. at the upper and lower narrows of the baraboo (b and c, plate ii) the beds are essentially vertical, that is, they have a dip of about °. between these extremes, many intermediate angles have been noted. plate vii represents a view near ablemans, in the upper narrows, where the nearly vertical beds of quartzite are well exposed. the position of the beds in the quartzite is not always easy of recognition. the difficulty is occasioned by the presence of numerous cleavage planes developed in the rock after its conversion into quartzite. some of these secondary cleavage planes are so regular and so nearly parallel to one another as to be easily confused with the bedding planes. this is especially liable to make determinations of the dip difficult, since the true bedding was often obscured when the cleavage was developed. in spite of the difficulties, the original stratification can usually be determined where there are good exposures of the rock. at some points the surfaces of the layers carry ripple marks, and where they are present, they serve as a ready means of identifying the bedding planes, even though the strata are now on edge. layers of small pebbles are sometimes found. they were horizontal when the sands of the quartzite were accumulating, and where they are found they are sufficient to indicate the original position of the beds. aside from the position of the beds, there is abundant evidence of dynamic action[ ] in the quartzite. along the railway at devil's lake, half a mile south of the cliff house, thin zones of schistose rock may be seen parallel to the bedding planes. these zones of schistose rock a few inches in thickness were developed from the quartzite by the slipping of the rock on either side. this slipping presumably occurred during the adjustment of the heavy beds of quartzite to their new positions, at the time of tilting and folding, for no thick series of rock can be folded without more or less slipping of the layers on one another. the slipping (adjustment) takes place along the weaker zones. such zones of movement are sometimes known as _shear zones_, for the rock on the one side has been sheared (slipped) over that on the other. [ ] irving: "the baraboo quartzite ranges." vol. ii, geology of wisconsin, pp. - . van hise: "some dynamic phenomena shown by the baraboo quartzite ranges of central wisconsin." jour. of geol., vol. i, pp. - . [illustration: fig. .--diagram made by plotting the different dips now at hand along a section from a to b, plate ii, and connecting them so as to show the structure indicated by the known data. the full lines, oblique or vertical, represent the beds of quartzite. the continuous line above them represents the present surface of the quartzite, while the dotted lines suggest the continuation of the beds which completed the great folds of which the present exposures appear to be remnants.] [illustration: fig. .--a diagrammatic section showing the relation of the sandstone to the quartzite.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. vii. the east bluff at the upper narrows of the baraboo near ablemans, showing the vertical position of the beds of quartzite. in the lower right-hand corner, above the bridge, appears some breccia.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. viii. vertical shear zone in face of east bluff at devil's lake.] near the shear zones parallel to the bedding planes, there is one distinct vertical shear zone (plate viii) three to four feet in width. it is exposed to a height of fully twenty-five feet. along this zone the quartzite has been broken into angular fragments, and at places the crushing of the fragments has produced a "friction clay." slipping along vertical zones would be no necessary part of folding, though it might accompany it. on the other hand, it might have preceded or followed the folding. schistose structure probably does not always denote shearing, at least not the shearing which results from folding. extreme pressure is likely to develop schistosity in rock, the cleavage planes being at right angles to the direction of pressure. it is not always possible to say how far the schistosity of rock at any given point is the result of shear, and how far the result of pressure without shear. schistose structure which does not appear to have resulted from shear, at least not from the shear involved in folding, is well seen in the isolated quartzite mound about four miles southwest of baraboo on the west sauk road (f, plate ii). these quartzite schists are to be looked on as metamorphosed quartzite, just as quartzite is metamorphosed sandstone. at the upper narrows of the baraboo also (b, plate ii), evidence of dynamic action is patent. movement along bedding planes with attendant development of quartz schist has occurred here as at the lake (plate ix). besides the schistose belts, a wide zone of quartzite exposed in the bluffs at this locality has been crushed into angular fragments, and afterwards re-cemented by white quartz deposited from solution by percolating waters (plate x). this quartzite is said to be brecciated. within this zone there are spots where the fragments of quartzite are so well rounded as to simulate water-worn pebbles. their forms appear to be the result of the wear of the fragments on one another during the movements which followed the crushing. conglomerate originating in this way is _friction conglomerate_ or _reibungsbreccia_. the crushing of the rock in this zone probably took place while the beds were being folded; but the brecciated quartzite formed by the re-cementation of the fragments has itself been fractured and broken in such a manner as to show that the formation has suffered at least one dynamic movement since the development of the breccia. that these movements were separated by a considerable interval of time is shown by the fact that the re-cementation of the fragmental products of the first movement preceded the second. what has been said expresses the belief of geologists as to the origin of quartzite and quartz schists; but because of popular misconception on the point it may here be added that neither the changing of the sandstone into quartzite, nor the subsequent transformation of the quartzite to schist, was due primarily to heat. heat was doubtless generated in the mechanical action involved in these changes, but it was subordinate in importance, as it was secondary in origin. igneous rock is associated with the quartzite at a few points. at g and h, plate ii there are considerable masses of porphyry, sustaining such relations to the quartzite as to indicate that they were intruded into the sedimentary beds after the deposition of the latter. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. ix. a mass of quartzite _in situ_, in the road through the upper narrows near ableman's. the bedding, which is nearly vertical, is indicated by the shading, while the secondary cleavage approaches horizontality.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. x. brecciated quartzite near ablemans in the upper narrows. the darker parts are quartzite, the lighter parts the cementing quartz.] iii. relations of the sandstone of the plain to the quartzite of the ridges. the horizontal beds of potsdam sandstone may be traced up to the bases of the quartzite ranges, where they may frequently be seen to abut against the tilted beds of quartzite. not only this, but isolated patches of sandstone lie on the truncated edges of the dipping beds of quartzite well up on the slopes, and even on the crest of the ridge itself. in the former position they may be seen on the east bluff at devil's lake, where horizontal beds of conglomerate and sandstone rest on the layers of quartzite which dip ° to the north. the stratigraphic relations of the two formations are shown in fig. which represents a diagrammatic section from a to b, plate ii. plate xi is reproduced from a photograph taken in the upper narrows of the baraboo near ablemans, and shows the relations as they appear in the field. the quartzite layers are here on edge, and on them rest the horizontal beds of sandstone and conglomerate. similar stratigraphic relations are shown at many other places. this is the relationship of _unconformity_. such an unconformity as that between the sandstone and the quartzite of this region shows the following sequence of events: ( ) the quartzite beds were folded and lifted above the sea in which the sand composing them was originally deposited; ( ) a long period of erosion followed, during which the crests of the folds were worn off; ( ) the land then sank, allowing the sea to again advance over the region; ( ) while the sea was here, sand and gravel derived from the adjacent lands which remained unsubmerged, were deposited on its bottom. these sands became the potsdam sandstone. this sequence of events means that between the deposition of the quartzite and the sandstone, the older formation was disturbed and eroded. either of these events would have produced an unconformity; the two make it more pronounced. that the disturbance of the older formation took place before the later sandstone was deposited is evident from the fact that the latter formation was not involved in the movements which disturbed the former. although the sandstone appears in patches on the quartzite ranges, it is primarily the formation of the surrounding plains, occupying the broad valley between the ranges, and the territory surrounding them. the quartzite, on the other hand, is the formation of the ridges, though it outcrops at a few points in the plain. (compare plates ii and xxxvii.) the striking topographic contrasts between the plains and the ridges is thus seen to be closely related to the rock formations involved. it is the hard and resistant quartzite which forms the ridges, and the less resistant sandstone which forms the lowlands about them. that quartzite underlies the sandstone of the plain is indicated by the occasional outcrops of the former rock on the plain, and from the fact that borings for deep wells have sometimes reached it where it is not exposed. the sandstone of the plain and the quartzite of the ridges are not everywhere exposed. a deep but variable covering of loose material or _mantle rock (drift)_ is found throughout the eastern part of the area, but it does not extend far west of baraboo. this mantle rock is so thick and so irregularly disposed that it has given origin to small hills and ridges. these elevations are superimposed on the erosion topography of the underlying rock, showing that the drift came into the region after the sandstone, limestone, and quartzite had their present relations, and essentially their present topography. further consideration will be given to the drift in a later part of this report. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xi. the northeast wall of the upper narrows, north of ableman's, showing the horizontal potsdam sandstone and conglomerate lying unconformably on the quartzite, the beds of which are vertical.] part ii. history of the topography. chapter ii. outline of the history of the rock formations which show themselves at the surface. i. the pre-cambrian history of the quartzite. _from loose sand to quartzite._--to understand the geography of a region it is necessary to understand the nature of the materials, the sculpture of which has made the geography. it has already been indicated that the huronian quartzite of which the most prominent elevations of this region are composed, was once loose sand. even at the risk of repetition, the steps in its history are here recounted. the source of the sand was probably the still older rocks of the land in the northern part of wisconsin. brought down to the sea by rivers, or washed from the shores of the land by waves, the sand was deposited in horizontal or nearly horizontal beds at the bottom of the shallow water which then covered central and southern wisconsin. later, perhaps while it was still beneath the sea, the sand was converted into sandstone, the change being effected partly by compression which made the mass of sand more compact, but chiefly by the cementation of its constituent grains into a coherent mass. the water contained in the sand while consolidation was in progress, held in solution some slight amount of silica, the same material of which the grains of sand themselves are composed. little by little this silica in solution was deposited on the surfaces of the sand grains, enlarging them, and at the same time binding them together. thus the sand became sandstone. continued deposition of silica between and around the grains finally filled the interstitial spaces, and when this process was completed, the sandstone had been converted into quartzite. while quartzite is a metamorphic sandstone, it is not to be understood that sandstone cannot be metamorphosed in other ways. _uplift and deformation. dynamic metamorphism._--after the deposition of the sands which later became the quartzite, the beds were uplifted and deformed, as their present positions and relations show. it is not possible to say how far the process of transformation of sand into quartzite was carried while the formation was still beneath the shallow sea in which it was deposited. the sand may have been changed to sandstone, and the sandstone to quartzite, before the sea bottom was converted into land, while on the other hand, the formation may have been in any stage of change from sand to quartzite, when that event occurred. if the process of change was then incomplete, it may have been continued after the sea retired, by the percolating waters derived from the rainfall of the region. either when first converted into land, or at some later time, the beds of rock were folded, and suffered such other changes as attend profound dynamic movements. the conversion of the sandstone into quartzite probably preceded the deformation, since many phenomena indicate that the rock was quartzite and not sandstone when the folding took place. for example, the crushing of the quartzite (now re-cemented into brecciated quartzite) at ablemans probably dates from the orogenic movements which folded the quartzite, and the fractured bits of rock often have corners and edges so sharp as to show that the rock was thoroughly quartzitic when the crushing took place. the uplift and deformation of the beds was probably accomplished slowly, but the vertical and highly tilted strata show that the changes were profound (see fig. ). the dynamic metamorphism which accompanied this profound deformation has already been referred to. the folding of the beds involved the slipping of some on others, and this resulted in the development of quartz schist along the lines of severest movement. changes effected in the texture and structure of the rock under such conditions constitute _dynamic metamorphism_. in general, the metamorphic changes effected by dynamic action are much more profound than those brought about in other ways, and most rocks which have been profoundly metamorphosed, were changed in this way. dynamic action generates heat, but contrary to the popular notion, the heat involved in profound metamorphism is usually secondary, and the dynamic action fundamental. at the same time that quartz schist was locally developed from the quartzite, crushing probably occurred in other places. this is _demorphism_, rather than metamorphism. _erosion of the quartzite._--when the huronian beds were raised to the estate of land, the processes of erosion immediately began to work on them. the heat and the cold, the plants and the animals, the winds, and especially the rain and the water which came from the melting of the snow, produced their appropriate effects. under the influence of these agencies the surface of the rock was loosened by weathering, valleys were cut in it by running water, and wear and degradation went on at all points. the antagonistic processes of uplift and degradation went on for unnumbered centuries, long enough for even the slow processes involved to effect stupendous results. degradation was continuous after the region became land, though uplift may not have been. on the whole, elevation exceeded degradation, for some parts of the quartzite finally came to stand high above the level of the sea,--the level to which all degradation tends. fig. conveys some notion of the amount of rock which was removed from the quartzite folds about baraboo during this long period of erosion. the south range would seem to represent the stub of one side of a great anticlinal fold, a large part of which (represented by the dotted lines) was carried away, while the north range may be the core of another fold, now exposed by erosion. some idea of the geography of the quartzite at the close of this period of erosion may be gained by imagining the work of later times undone. the younger beds covering the quartzite of the plains have a thickness varying from zero to several hundred feet, and effectually mask the irregularities of the surface of the subjacent quartzite. could they be removed, the topography of the quartzite would be disclosed, and found to have much greater relief than the present surface; that is, the vertical distance between the crest of the quartzite ridge, and the surface of the quartzite under the surrounding lowlands, would be greater than that between the same crest and the surface of the sandstone. but even this does not give the full measure of the relief of the quartzite at the close of the long period of erosion which followed its uplift, for allowance must be made for the amount of erosion which the crests of the quartzite ranges have suffered since that time. the present surface therefore does not give an adequate conception of the irregularity of the surface at the close of the period of erosion which followed the uplift and deformation of the quartzite. so high were the crests of the quartzite ranges above their surroundings at that time, that they may well be thought of as mountainous. from this point of view, the quartzite ranges of today are the partially buried mountains of the pre-potsdam land of south central wisconsin. when the extreme hardness of the quartzite is remembered and also the extent of the erosion which affected it (fig. ) before the next succeeding formation was deposited, it is safe to conclude that the period of erosion was very long. _thickness of the quartzite._--the thickness of the quartzite is not known, even approximately. the great thickness in the south range suggested by the diagram (fig. ) may perhaps be an exaggeration. faulting which has not been discovered may have occurred, causing repetition of beds at the surface (fig. ), and so an exaggerated appearance of thickness. after all allowances have been made, it is still evident that the thickness of the quartzite is very great. ii. the history of the paleozoic strata. _the subsidence._--following the long period of erosion, the irregular and almost mountainous area of central wisconsin was depressed sufficiently to submerge large areas which had been land. the subsidence was probably slow, and as the sea advanced from the south, it covered first the valleys and lowlands, and later the lower hills and ridges, while the higher hills and ridges of the quartzite stood as islands in the rising sea. still later, the highest ridges of the region were themselves probably submerged. [illustration: fig. .--a diagrammatic cross-section, showing how, by faulting, the apparent thickness of the quartzite would be increased.] _the potsdam sandstone (and conglomerate)._--so soon as the sea began to overspread the region, its bottom became the site of deposition, and the deposition continued as long as the submergence lasted. it is to the sediments deposited during the earlier part of this submergence that the name _potsdam_ is given. the sources of the sediments are not far to seek. as the former land was depressed beneath the sea, its surface was doubtless covered with the products of rock decay, consisting of earths, sands, small bits and larger masses of quartzite. these materials, or at least the finer parts, were handled by the waves of the shallow waters, for they were at first shallow, and assorted and re-distributed. thus the residuary products on the submerged surface, were one source of sediments. from the shores also, so long as land areas remained, the waves derived sediments. these were composed in part of the weathered products of the rock, and in part of the undecomposed rock against which the waves beat, after the loose materials had been worn away. these sediments derived from the shore were shifted, and finally mingled with those derived from the submerged surface. so long as any part of the older land remained above the water, its streams brought sediments to the sea. these also were shifted by the waves and shore currents, and finally deposited with the others on the eroded surface of the quartzite. thus sediments derived in various ways, but inherently essentially similar, entered into the new formation. [illustration: fig. .--diagram to illustrate the theoretical disposition of sediments about an island.] [illustration: fig. .--same as fig. , except that the land has been depressed.] the first material to be deposited on the surface of the quartzite as it was submerged, was the coarsest part of the sediment. of the sediment derived by the waves from the coasts, and brought down to the sea by rivers, the coarsest would at each stage be left nearest the shore, while the finer was carried progressively farther and farther from it. thus at each stage the sand was deposited farther from the shore than the gravel, and the mud farther than the sand, where the water was so deep that the bottom was subject to little agitation by waves. the theoretical distribution of sediments about an island as it was depressed, is illustrated by the following diagrams, figs. and . it will be seen that the surface of the quartzite is immediately overlain by conglomerate, but that the conglomerate near its top is younger than that near its base. in conformity with this natural distribution of sediments, the basal beds of the potsdam formation are often conglomeratic (fig. , plate iii, fig. , and plate xxv). this may oftenest be seen near the quartzite ridges, for here only is the base of the formation commonly exposed. the pebbles and larger masses of the conglomerate are quartzite, like that of the subjacent beds, and demonstrate the source of at least some of the material of the younger formation. that the pebbles and bowlders are of quartzite is significant, for it shows that the older formation had been changed from sandstone to quartzite, before the deposition of the potsdam sediments. the sand associated with the pebbles may well have come from the breaking up of the quartzite, though some of it may have been washed in from other sources by the waters in which the deposition took place. [illustration: fig. .--sketch showing relation of basal potsdam conglomerate and sandstone to the quartzite, on the east bluff at devil's lake, behind the cliff house.] the basal conglomerate may be seen at many places, but nowhere about devil's lake is it so well exposed as at parfrey's glen (a, plate xxxvii), where the rounded stones of which it is composed vary from pebbles, the size of a pea, to bowlders more than three feet in diameter. other localities where the conglomerates may be seen to advantage are dorward's glen (b, plate xxxvii), the east bluff at devil's lake just above the cliff house, and at the upper narrows of the baraboo, above ablemans. while the base of the potsdam is conglomeratic in many places, the main body of it is so generally sandstone that the formation as a whole is commonly known as the potsdam sandstone. the first effect of the sedimentation which followed submergence was to even up the irregular surface of the quartzite, for the depressions in the surface were the first to be submerged, and the first to be filled. as the body of sediment thickened, it buried the lower hills and the lower parts of the higher ones. the extent to which the potsdam formation buried the main ridge may never be known. it may have buried it completely, for as already stated patches of sandstone are found upon the main range. these patches make it clear that some formation younger than the quartzite once covered essentially all of the higher ridge. other evidence to be adduced later, confirms this conclusion. it has, however, not been demonstrated that the high-level patches of sandstone are potsdam. there is abundant evidence that the subsidence which let the potsdam seas in over the eroded surface of the huronian quartzite was gradual. one line of evidence is found in the cross-bedding of the sandstone (plate xii) especially well exhibited in the dalles of the wisconsin. the beds of sandstone are essentially horizontal, but within the horizontal beds there are often secondary layers which depart many degrees from horizontality, the maximum being about °. plates xxvii and xii give a better idea of the structure here referred to than verbal description can. the explanation of cross-bedding is to be found in the varying conditions under which sand was deposited. cross-bedding denotes shallow water, where waves and shore currents were effective at the bottom where deposition is in progress. for a time, beds were deposited off shore at a certain angle, much as in the building of a delta (fig. ). then by subsidence of the bottom, other layers with like structure were deposited over the first. by this sequence of events, the dip of the secondary layers should be toward the open water, and in this region their dip is generally to the south. at any stage of deposition the waves engendered by storms were liable to erode the surface of the deposits already made, and new layers, discordant with those below, were likely to be laid down upon them. the subordinate layers of each deposit might dip in any direction. if this process were repeated many times during the submergence, the existing complexity would be explained. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xii. steamboat rock,--an island in the dalles of the wisconsin.] [illustration: fig. .--a diagrammatic cross-section of a delta.] the maximum known thickness of the potsdam sandstone in wisconsin is about , feet, but its thickness in this region is much less. where not capped by some younger formation, its upper surface has suffered extensive erosion, and the present thickness therefore falls short of the original. the figures given above may not be too great for the latter. _the lower magnesian limestone._--the conditions of sedimentation finally changed in the area under consideration. when the sand of the sandstone was being deposited, adjacent lands were the source whence the sediments were chiefly derived. the evidence that the region was sinking while the sand was being deposited shows that the land masses which were supplying the sand, were becoming progressively smaller. ultimately the sand ceased to be washed out to the region here described, either because the water became too deep[ ] or because the source of supply was too distant. when these relations were brought about, the conditions were favorable for the deposition of sediments which were to become limestone. these sediments consisted chiefly of the shells of marine life, together with an unknown amount of lime carbonate precipitated from the waters of the sea. the limestone contains no coarse, and but little fine material derived from the land, and the surfaces of its layers are rarely if ever ripple-marked. the materials of which it is made must therefore have been laid down in quiet waters which were essentially free from land-derived sediments. the depth of the water in which it was deposited was not, however, great, for the fossils are not the remains of animals which lived in abysmal depths. [ ] a few hundred feet would suffice. the deposition of limestone sediments following the deposition of the potsdam sands, does not necessarily mean that there was more or different marine life while the younger formation was making, but only that the shells, etc., which before had been mingled with the sand, making fossiliferous sandstone, were now accumulated essentially free from land-derived sediment, and therefore made limestone. like the sandstone beneath, the limestone formation has a wide distribution outside the area here under discussion, showing that conditions similar to those of central wisconsin were widely distributed at this time. the beds of limestone are conformable on those of the sandstone, and the conformable relations of the two formations indicate that the deposition of the upper followed that of the lower, without interruption. the thickness of the lower magnesian limestone varies from less than to more than feet, but in this region its thickness is nearer the lesser figure than the larger. the limestone is now present only in the eastern and southern parts of the area, though it originally covered the whole area. _the st. peters sandstone._--overlying the lower magnesian limestone at a few points, are seen remnants of st. peters sandstone. the constitution of this formation shows that conditions of sedimentation had again changed, so that sand was again deposited where the conditions had been favorable to the deposition of limestone but a short time before. this formation has been recognized at but two places (d and e) within the area shown on plate xxxvii, but the relations at these two points are such as to lead to the conclusion that the formation may once have covered the entire region. this sandstone formation is very like the sandstone below. its materials doubtless came from the lands which then existed. the formation is relatively thin, ranging from somewhat below to somewhat above feet. the change from the deposition of limestone sediments to sand may well have resulted from the shoaling of the waters, which allowed the sand to be carried farther from shore. rise of the land may have accompanied the shoaling of the waters, and the higher lands would have furnished more and coarser sediments to the sea. _younger beds._--that formations younger than the st. peters sandstone once overlaid this part of wisconsin is almost certain, though no remnants of them now exist. evidence which cannot be here detailed[ ] indicates that sedimentation about the quartzite ridges went on not only until the irregularities of surface were evened up, but until even the highest peaks of the quartzite were buried, and that formations as high in the series as the niagara limestone once overlay their crests. before this condition was reached, the quartzite ridges had of course ceased to be islands, and at the same time had ceased to be a source of supply of sediments. the aggregate thickness of the paleozoic beds in the region, as first deposited, was probably not less than , feet, and it may have been much more. this thickness would have buried the crests of the quartzite ridges under several hundred feet of sediment (see fig. ). [ ] jour. of geol., vol. iii (pp. - ). [illustration: fig. .--the geological formations of southern wisconsin in the order of their occurrence. not all of these are found about devil's lake.] it is by no means certain that south central wisconsin was continuously submerged while this thick series of beds was being deposited. indeed, there is good reason to believe that there was at least one period of emergence, followed, after a considerable lapse of time, by re-submergence and renewed deposition, before the paleozoic series of the region was complete. these movements, however, had little effect on the geography of the region. finally the long period of submergence, during which several changes in sedimentation had taken place, came to an end, and the area under discussion was again converted into land. _time involved._--though it cannot be reduced to numerical terms, the time involved in the deposition of these several formations of the paleozoic must have been very long. it is probably to be reckoned in millions of years, rather than in denominations of a lower order. _climatic conditions._--little is known concerning the climate of this long period of sedimentation. theoretical considerations have usually been thought to lead to the conclusion that the climate during this part of the earth's history was uniform, moist, and warm; but the conclusion seems not to be so well founded as to command great confidence. _the uplift._--after sedimentation had proceeded to some such extent as indicated, the sea again retired from central wisconsin. this may have been because the sea bottom of this region rose, or because the sea bottom in other places was depressed, thus drawing off the water. the topography of this new land, like the topography of those portions of the sea bottom which are similarly situated, must have been for the most part level. low swells and broad undulations may have existed, but no considerable prominences, and no sudden change of slope. the surface was probably so flat that it would have been regarded as a level surface had it been seen. the height to which the uplift carried the new land surface at the outset must ever remain a matter of conjecture. some estimate may be made of the amount of uplift which the region has suffered since the beginning of this uplift, but it is unknown how much took place at this time, and how much in later periods of geological history. the new land surface at once became the site of new activities. all processes of land erosion at once attacked the new surface, in the effort to carry its materials back to the sea. the sculpturing of this plain, which, with some interruption, has continued to the present day, has given the region the chief elements of its present topography. but before considering the special history of erosion in this region, it may be well to consider briefly the general principles and processes of land degradation. chapter iii. general outline of rain and river erosion. _elements of erosion._--the general process of subaerial erosion is divisible into the several sub-processes of weathering, transportation, and corrasion.[ ] [ ] there is an admirable exposition of this subject in gilbert's "henry mountains." _weathering_ is the term applied to all those processes which disintegrate and disrupt exposed surfaces of rock. it is accomplished chiefly by solution, changes in temperature, the wedge-work of ice and roots, the borings of animals, and such chemical changes as surface water and air effect. the products of weathering are transported by the direct action of gravity, by glaciers, by winds, and by running water. of these the last is the most important. _corrasion_ is accomplished chiefly by the mechanical wear of streams, aided by the hard fragments such as sand, gravel and bowlders, which they carry. the solution effected by the waters of a stream may also be regarded as a part of corrasion. under ordinary circumstances solution by streams is relatively unimportant, but where the rock is relatively soluble, and where conditions are not favorable for abrasion, solution may be more important than mechanical wear. so soon as sea bottom is raised to the estate of land, it is attacked by the several processes of degradation. the processes of weathering at once begin to loosen the material of the surface if it be solid; winds shift the finer particles about, and with the first shower transportation by running water begins. weathering prepares the material for transportation and transportation leads to corrasion. since the goal of all material transported by running water is the sea, subaerial erosion means degradation of the surface. _erosion without valleys._--in the work of degradation the valley becomes the site of greatest activity, and in the following pages especial attention is given to the development of valleys and to the phases of topography to which their development leads. if a new land surface were to come into existence, composed of materials which were perfectly homogeneous, with slopes of absolute uniformity in all directions, and if the rain, the winds and all other surface agencies acted uniformly over the entire area, valleys would not be developed. that portion of the rainfall which was not evaporated and did not sink beneath the surface, would flow off the land in a sheet. the wear which it would effect would be equal in all directions from the center. if the angle of the slope were constant from center to shore, or if it increased shoreward, the wear effected by this sheet of water would be greatest at the shore, because here the sheet of flowing water would be deepest and swiftest, and therefore most effective in corrasion. _the beginning of a valley._--but land masses as we know them do not have equal and uniform slopes to the sea in all directions, nor is the material over any considerable area perfectly homogeneous. departure from these conditions, even in the smallest degree, would lead to very different results. that the surface of newly emerged land masses would, as a rule, not be rough, is evident from the fact that the bottom of the sea is usually rather smooth. much of it indeed is so nearly plane that if the water were withdrawn, the eye would scarcely detect any departure from planeness. the topography of a land mass newly exposed either by its own elevation or by the withdrawal of the sea, would ordinarily be similar to that which would exist in the vicinity of necedah and east of camp douglas, if the few lone hills were removed, and the very shallow valleys filled. though such a surface would seem to be moderately uniform as to its slopes, and homogeneous as to its material, neither the uniformity nor the homogeneity are perfect, and the rain water would not run off in sheets, and the wear would not be equal at all points. let it be supposed that an area of shallow sea bottom is raised above the sea, and that the elevation proceeds until the land has an altitude of several hundred feet. so soon as it appears above the sea, the rain falling upon it begins to modify its surface. some of the water evaporates at once, and has little effect on the surface; some of it sinks beneath the surface and finds its way underground to the sea; and some of it runs off over the surface and performs the work characteristic of streams. so far as concerns modifications of the surface, the run-off is the most important part. the run-off of the surface would tend to gather in the depressions of the surface, however slight they may be. this tendency is shown on almost every hillside during and after a considerable shower. the water concentrated in the depressions is in excess of that flowing over other parts of the surface, and therefore flows faster. flowing faster, it erodes the surface over which it flows more rapidly, and as a result the initial depressions are deepened, and _washes_ or _gullies_ are started. should the run-off not find irregularities of slope, it would, at the outset, fail of concentration; but should it find the material more easily eroded along certain lines than along others, the lines of easier wear would become the sites of greater erosion. this would lead to the development of gullies, that is, to irregularities of slope. either inequality of slope or material may therefore determine the location of a gully, and one of these conditions is indispensable. once started, each wash or gully becomes the cause of its own growth, for the gully developed by the water of one shower, determines greater concentration of water during the next. greater concentration means faster flow, faster flow means more rapid wear, and this means corresponding enlargement of the depression through which the flow takes place. the enlargement effected by successive showers affects a gully in all dimensions. the water coming in at its head carries the head back into the land (head erosion), thus lengthening the gully; the water coming in at its sides wears back the lateral slopes, thus widening it; and the water flowing along its bottom deepens it. thus gullies grow to be ravines, and farther enlargement by the same processes converts ravines into valleys. a river valley therefore is often but a gully grown big. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xiii. fig. . a very young valley. illustration: fig. . a valley in a later stage of development. illustration: fig. . young valleys.] _the course of a valley._--in the lengthening of a gully or valley headward, the growth will be in the direction of greatest wear. thus in plate xiii, fig. , if the water coming in at the head of the gully effects most wear in the direction a, the head of the gully will advance in that direction; if there be most wear in the direction b or c, the head will advance toward one of these points. the direction of greatest wear will be determined either by the slope of the surface, or by the nature of the surface material. the slope may lead to the concentration of the entering waters along one line, and the surface material may be less resistant in one direction than in another. if these factors favor the same direction of head-growth, the lengthening will be more rapid than if but one is favorable. if there be more rapid growth along two lines, as b and c, plate xiii, fig. , than between them, two gullies may develop (plate xiii, fig. ). the frequent and tortuous windings common to ravines and valleys are therefore to be explained by the inequalities of slope or material which affected the surface while the valley was developing. _tributary valleys._--following out this simple conception of valley growth, we have to inquire how a valley system (a main valley and its tributaries) is developed. the conditions which determine the location and development of gullies in a new land surface, determine the location and development of tributary gullies. in flowing over the lateral slopes of a gully or ravine, the water finds either slope or surface material failing of uniformity. both conditions lead to the concentration of the water along certain lines, and concentration of flow on the slope of an erosion depression, be it valley or gully, leads to the development of a tributary depression. in its growth, the tributary repeats, in all essential respects, the history of its main. it is lengthened headward by water coming in at its upper end, is widened by side wash, and deepened by the downward cutting of the water which flows along its axis. the factors controlling its development are the same as those which controlled the valley to which it is tributary. there is one peculiarity of the courses of tributaries which deserves mention. tributaries, as a rule, join their mains with an acute angle up stream. in general, new land surfaces, such as are now under consideration, slope toward the sea. if a tributary gully were to start back from its main at right angles, more water would come in on the side away from the shore, on account of the seaward slope of the land. this would be true of the head of the gully as well as of other portions, and the effect would be to turn the head more and more toward parallelism with the main valley. local irregularities of surface may, and frequently do, interfere with these normal relations, so that the general course of a tributary is occasionally at right angles to its main. still more rarely does the general course of a tributary make an acute angle with its main on the down stream side. local irregularities of surface determine the windings of a tributary, so that their courses for longer or shorter distances may be in violation of the general rule (c, fig. ); but on the whole, the valleys of a system whose history has not been interrupted in a region where the surface material is not notably heterogeneous, follow the course indicated above. this is shown by nearly every drainage system on the atlantic coastal plain which represents more nearly than any other portion of our continent, the conditions here under consideration. fig. represents the drainage system of the mullica river in southern new jersey and is a type of the coastal plain river system. _how a valley gets a stream._--valleys may become somewhat deep and long and wide without possessing permanent streams, though from their inception they have _temporary_ streams, the water for which is furnished by showers or melting snow. yet sooner or later, valleys come to have permanent streams. how are they acquired? does the valley find the stream or the stream the valley? for the answer to these questions, a brief digression will be helpful. [illustration: fig. .--a typical river system of the coastal plain type.] in cultivated regions, wells are of frequent occurrence. in a flat region of uniform structure, the depth at which well water may be obtained is essentially constant at all points. if holes (wells and , fig. ) be excavated below this level, water seeps into them, and in a series of wells the water stands at a nearly common level. this means that the sub-structure is full of water up to that level. these relations are illustrated by fig. . the diagram represents a vertical section through a flat region from the surface (s s) down below the bottom of wells. the water stands at the same level in the two cells ( and ), and the plane through them, at the surface of the water, is the _ground water level_. if in such a surface a valley were to be cut until its bottom was below the ground water level, the water would seep into it, as it does into the wells; and if the amount were sufficient, a permanent stream would be established. this is illustrated in fig. . the line a a represents the ground water level, and the level at which the water stands in the wells, under ordinary circumstances. the bottom of the valley is below the level of the ground water, and the water seeps into it from either side. its tendency is to fill the valley to the level a a. but instead of accumulating in the open valley as it does in the enclosed wells, it flows away, and the ground water level on either hand is drawn down. [illustration: fig. .--diagram illustrating the relations of ground water to streams.] the level of the ground water fluctuates. it is depressed when the season is dry (a' a'), and raised when precipitation is abundant (a'' a''). when it is raised, the water in the wells rises, and the stream in the valley is swollen. when it falls, the ground water surface is depressed, and the water in the wells becomes lower. if the water surface sinks below the bottom of the wells, the wells "go dry;" if below the bottom of the valley, the valley becomes for the time being, a "dry run." when a well is below the lowest ground-water level its supply of water never fails, and when the valley is sufficiently below the same level, its stream does not cease to flow, even in periods of drought. on account of the free evaporation in the open valley, the valley depression must be somewhat below the level necessary for a well, in order that the flow may be constant. it will be seen that _intermittent_ streams, that is, streams which flow in wet seasons and fail in dry, are intermediate between streams which flow after showers only, and those which flow without interruption. in the figure the stream would become dry if the ground water level sank to a' a'. it is to be noted that a permanent stream does not normally precede its valley, but that the valley, developed through gully-hood and ravine-hood to valley-hood by means of the temporary streams supplied by the run-off of occasional showers, _finds a stream_, just as diggers of wells find water. the case is not altered if the stream be fed by springs, for the valley finds the spring, as truly as the well-digger finds a "vein" of water. _limits of a valley._--so soon as a valley acquires a permanent stream, its development goes on without the interruption to which it was subject while the stream was intermittent. the permanent stream, like the temporary one which preceded it, tends to deepen and widen its valley, and, under certain conditions, to lengthen it as well. the means by which these enlargements are affected are the same as before. there are limits, however, in length, depth, and width, beyond which a valley may not go. no stream can cut below the level of the water into which it flows, and it can cut to that level only at its outlet. up stream from that point, a gentle gradient will be established over which the water will flow without cutting. in this condition the stream is _at grade_. its channel has reached _baselevel_, that is, the level to which the stream can wear its bed. this grade is, however, not necessarily permanent, for what was baselevel for a small stream in an early stage of its development, is not necessarily baselevel for the larger stream which succeeds it at a later time. weathering, wash, and lateral corrasion of the stream continue to widen the valley after it has reached baselevel. the bluffs of valleys are thus forced to recede, and the valley is widened at the expense of the upland. two valleys widening on opposite sides of a divide, narrow the divide between them, and may ultimately wear it out. when this is accomplished, the two valleys become one. the limit to which a valley may widen on either side is therefore its neighboring valley, and since, after two valleys have become one by the elimination of the ridge between them, there are still valleys on either hand, the final result of the widening of all valleys must be to reduce all the area which they drain to baselevel. as this process goes forward, the upper flat into which the valleys were cut is being restricted in area, while the lower flats developed by the streams in the valley bottoms are being enlarged. thus the lower flats grow at the expense of the higher. there are also limits in length which a valley may not exceed. the head of any valley may recede until some other valley is reached. the recession may not stop even there, for if, on opposite sides of a divide, erosion is unequal, as between a and b, fig. , the divide will be moved toward the side of less rapid erosion, and it will cease to recede only when erosion on the two sides becomes equal ( a and b). in homogeneous material this will be when the slopes on the two sides are equal. [illustration: fig. .--diagram showing the shifting of a divide. the slopes a and b are unequal. the steeper slope is worn more rapidly and the divide is shifted from to , where the two slopes become equal and the migration of the divide ceases.] it should be noted that the lengthening of a valley headward is not normally the work of the permanent stream, for the permanent stream begins some distance below the head of the valley. at the head, therefore, erosion goes on as at the beginning, even after a permanent stream is acquired. under certain circumstances, the valley may be lengthened at its debouchure. if the detritus carried by it is deposited at its mouth, or if the sea bottom beyond that point rise, the land may be extended seaward, and over this extension the stream will find its way. thus at their lower, as well as at their upper ends, both the stream and its valley may be lengthened. _a cycle of erosion._--if, along the borders of a new-born land mass, a series of valleys were developed, essentially parallel to one another, they would constitute depressions separated by elevations, representing the original surface not yet notably affected by erosion (see plate xiv, fig. ). these inter-valley areas might at first be wide or narrow, but in process of time they would necessarily become narrow, for, once, a valley is started, all the water which enters it from either side helps to wear back its slopes, and the wearing back of the slopes means the widening of the valleys on the one hand and the narrowing of the inter-valley ridges on the other. not only would the water running over the slopes of a valley wear back its walls, but many other processes conspire to the same end. the wetting and drying, the freezing and the thawing, the roots of plants and the borings of animals, all tend to loosen the material on the slopes or walls of the valleys, and gravity helps the loosened material to descend. once in the valley bottom, the running water is likely to carry it off, landing it finally in the sea. thus the growth of the valley is not the result of running water alone, though this is the most important single factor in the process. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xiv. fig. . the same valleys as shown in plate xiii, fig. , in a later stage of development. illustration: fig. . same valleys as shown in fig. , in a still later stage of development.] even if valleys developed no tributaries, they would, in the course of time, widen to such an extent as to nearly obliterate the intervening ridges. the surface, however, would not easily be reduced to perfect flatness. for a long time at least there would remain something of slope from the central axis of the former inter-stream ridge, toward the streams on either hand; but if the process of erosion went on for a sufficiently long period of time, the inter-stream ridge would be brought very low, and the result would be an essentially flat surface between the streams, much below the level of the old one. the first valleys which started on the land surface (see plate xiii, fig. ) would be almost sure to develop numerous tributaries. into tributary valleys water would flow from their sides and from their heads, and as a result they would widen and deepen and lengthen just as their mains had done before them. by lengthening headward they would work back from their mains some part, or even all of the way across the divides separating the main valleys. by this process, the tributaries cut the divides between the main streams into shorter cross-ridges. with the development of tributary valleys there would be many lines of drainage instead of two, working at the area between two main streams. the result would be that the surface would be brought low much more rapidly, for it is clear that many valleys within the area between the main streams, widening at the same time, would diminish the aggregate area of the upland much more rapidly than two alone could do. the same thing is made clear in another way. it will be seen (plate xiv, figs. and ) that the tributaries would presently dissect an area of uniform surface, tending to cut it into a series of short ridges or hills. in this way the amount of sloping surface is greatly increased, and as a result, every shower would have much more effect in washing loose materials down to lower levels, whence the streams could carry them to the sea. [illustration: fig. .--cross-sections showing various stages of erosion in one cycle.] the successive stages in the process of lowering a surface are suggested by fig. , which represents a series of cross-sections of a land mass in process of degradation. the uppermost section represents a level surface crossed by young valleys. the next lower represents the same surface at a later stage, when the valleys have grown larger, while the third and succeeding sections represent still later stages in the process of degradation. plate xiii, fig. , and plate xiv, figs. and , represent in another way the successive stages of stream work in the general process of degradation. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xv. diagram illustrating how a hard inclined layer of rock becomes a ridge in the process of degradation.] in this manner a series of rivers, operating for a sufficiently long period of time, might reduce even a high land mass to a low level, scarcely above the sea. the new level would be developed soonest near the sea, and the areas farthest from it would be the last--other things being equal--to be brought low. the time necessary for the development of such a surface is known as a _cycle of erosion_, and the resulting surface is a _base-level plain_, that is, a plain as near sea level as river erosion can bring it. at a stage shortly preceding the base-level stage the surface would be a _peneplain_. a peneplain, therefore, is a surface which has been brought toward, but not to base-level. land surfaces are often spoken of as young or old in their erosion history according to the stage of advancement which has been made toward base-leveling. thus the colorado canyon, deep and impressive as it is, is, in terms of erosion, a young valley, for the river has done but a small part of the work which must be done in order to bring its basin to baselevel. _effects of unequal hardness._--the process of erosion thus sketched would ultimately bring the surface of the land down to base-level, and in case the material of the land were homogeneous, the last points to be reduced would be those most remote from the axes of the streams doing the work of leveling. but if the material of the land were of unequal hardness, those parts which were hardest would resist the action of erosion most effectively. the areas of softer rock would be brought low, and the outcrops of hard rock (plate xv) would constitute ridges during the later stages of an erosion cycle. if there were bodies of hard rock, such as the baraboo quartzite, surrounded by sandstone, such as the potsdam, the sandstone on either hand would be worn down much more readily than the quartzite, and in the course of degradation the latter would come to stand out prominently. the region in the vicinity of devil's lake is in that stage of erosion in which the quartzite ridges are conspicuous (plate xxxvii). the less resistant sandstone has been removed from about them, and erosion has not advanced so far since the isolation of the quartzite ridges as to greatly lower their crests. the harder strata are at a level where surface water can still work effectively, even though slowly, upon them, and in spite of their great resistance they will ultimately be brought down to the common level. it will be seen that, from the point of view of subaerial erosion, a base-level plain is the only land surface which is in a condition of approximate stability. _falls and rapids._--if in lowering its channel a stream crosses one layer of rock much harder than the next underlying, the deepening will go on more rapidly on the less resistant bed. where the stream crosses from the harder to the less hard, the gradient is likely to become steep, and a rapids is formed. these conditions are suggested in fig. which represents the successive profiles (a b, a c, d e, f e, g e, and h e) of a stream crossing from a harder to a softer formation. below the point a the stream is flowing over rock which is easily eroded, while above that point its course is over a harder formation. just below a (profile a b) the gradient has become so steep that there are rapids. under these conditions, erosion is rapid just beyond the crossing of the hard layer, and the gradient becomes higher and higher. when the steep slope of the rapids approaches verticality, the rapids become a _fall_ (profile a c). [illustration: fig. .--diagram to illustrate the development of a rapid and fall. the upper layer is harder than the strata below. the successive profiles of the stream below the hard layer are represented by the lines a b, a c, d e, f e, g e, and h e.] as the water falls over the precipitous face and strikes upon the softer rock below, part of it rebounds against the base of the vertical face (fig. ). the result of wear at this point is the undermining of the hard layer above, and sooner or later, portions of it will fall. this will occasion the recession of the fall (profile d e and f e). as the fall recedes, it grows less and less high. when the recession has reached the point i, or, in other words, when the gradient of the stream below the fall crosses the junction of the beds of unequal hardness, as it ultimately must, effective undermining ceases, and the end of the fall is at hand. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xvi. skillett falls, in the potsdam formation, three miles southwest of baraboo. the several small falls are occasioned by slight inequalities in the hardness of the layers.] when the effective undercutting ceases because the softer bed is no longer accessible, the point of maximum wear is transferred to the top of the hard bed just where the water begins to fall (g, fig. ). the wear here is no greater than before, though it is greater relatively. the relatively greater wear at this point destroys the verticality of the face, converting it into a steep slope. when this happens, the fall is a thing of the past, and rapids succeed. with continued flow the bed of the rapids becomes less and less steep, until it is finally reduced to the normal gradient of the stream (h e), when the rapids disappear. when thin layers of rock in a stream's course vary in hardness, softer beds alternating with harder ones, a series of falls such as shown in plate xvi, may result. as they work up stream, these falls will be obliterated one by one. thus it is seen that falls and rapids are not permanent features of the landscape. they belong to the younger period of a valley's history, rather than to the older. they are marks of topographic youth. _narrows._--where a stream crosses a hard layer or ridge of rock lying between softer ones, the valley will not widen so rapidly in the hard rock as above and below. if the hard beds be vertical, so that their outcrop is not shifted as the degradation of the surface proceeds, a notable constriction of the valley results. such a constriction is a _narrows_. the upper and lower narrows of the baraboo (plate iv) are good examples of the effect of hard rock on the widening of a valley. _erosion of folded strata._--the processes of river erosion would not be essentially different in case the land mass upon which erosion operated were made of tilted and folded strata. the folds would, at the outset, determine the position of the drainage lines, for the main streams would flow in the troughs (synclines) between the folds (anticlines). once developed, the streams would lower their beds, widen their valleys, and lengthen their courses, and in the long process of time they would bring the area drained nearly to sea-level, just as in the preceding case. it was under such conditions that the general processes of subaerial erosion operated in south central wisconsin, after the uplift of the quartzite and before the deposition of the potsdam sandstone. it was then that the principal features of the topography of the quartzite were developed. in regions of folded strata, certain beds are likely to be more resistant than others. where harder beds alternate with softer, the former finally come to stand out as ridges, while the outcrops of the latter mark the sites of the valleys. such alternations of beds of unequal resistance give rise to various peculiarities of drainage, particularly in the courses of tributaries. these peculiarities find no illustration in this region and are not here discussed. _base-level plains and peneplains._--it is important to notice that a plane surface (base-level) developed by streams could only be developed at elevations but slightly above the sea, that is, at levels at which running water ceases to be an effective agent of erosion; for so long as a stream is actively deepening its valley, its tendency is to roughen the area which it drains, not to make it smooth. the colorado river, flowing through high land, makes a deep gorge. all the streams of the western plateaus have deep valleys, and the manifest result of their action is to roughen the surface; but given time enough, and the streams will have cut their beds to low gradients. then, though deepening of the valleys will cease, widening will not, and inch by inch and shower by shower the elevated lands between the valleys will be reduced in area, and ultimately the whole will be brought down nearly to the level of the stream beds. this is illustrated by fig. . [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xvii. a group of mounds on the plain southwest from camp douglas. the base-level surface is well shown, and above it rise the remnants of the higher plain from which the lower was reduced.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xviii. castle rock near camp douglas. in this view the relation of the erosion remnant to the extensive base-leveled surface is well shown.] it is important to notice further that if the original surface on which erosion began is level, there is no stage intermediate between the beginning and the end of an erosion cycle, when the surface is again level, or nearly so, though in the stage of a cycle next preceding the last--the peneplain stage (fourth profile, fig. )--the surface approaches flatness. it is also important to notice that when streams have cut a land surface down to the level at which they cease to erode, that surface will still possess some slight slope, and that to seaward. no definite degree of slope can be fixed upon as marking a base-level. the angle of slope which would practically stop erosion in a region of slight rainfall would be great enough to allow of erosion if the precipitation were greater. all that can be said, therefore, is that the angle of slope must be low. the mississippi has a fall of less than a foot per mile for some hundreds of miles above the gulf. a small stream in a similar situation would have ceased to lower its channel before so low a gradient was reached. the nearest approach to a base-leveled region within the area here under consideration is in the vicinity of camp douglas and necedah (see plate i). this is indeed one of the best examples of a base-leveled plain known. here the broad plain, extending in some directions as far as the eye can reach, is as low as it could be reduced by the streams which developed it. the erosion cycle which produced the plain was, however, not completed, for above the plain rise a few conspicuous hills (plates xvii and xviii, and fig. ), and to the west of it lie the highlands marking the level from which the low plain was reduced. where a region has been clearly base-leveled, isolated masses or ridges of resistant rock may still stand out conspicuously above it. the quartzite hill at necedah is an example. such hills are known as _monadnocks_. this name was taken from mount monadnock which owes its origin to the removal of the surrounding less resistant beds. the name has now become generic. many of the isolated hills on the peneplain east of camp douglas are perhaps due to superior resistance, though the rock of which they are composed belongs to the same formation as that which has been removed. [illustration: fig. .--sketch, looking northwest from camp douglas.] characteristics of valleys at various stages of development. in the early stages of its development a depression made by erosion has steep lateral slopes, the exact character of which is determined by many considerations. its normal cross-section is usually described as v-shaped (fig. ). in the early stages of its development, especially if in unconsolidated material, the slopes are normally convex inward. if cut in solid rock, the cross section may be the same, though many variations are likely to appear, due especially to the structure of the rock and to inequalities of hardness. if a stream be swift enough to carry off not only all the detritus descending from its slopes, but to abrade its bed effectively besides, a steep-sided gorge develops. if it becomes deep, it is a canyon. for the development of a canyon, the material of the walls must be such as is capable of standing at a high angle. a canyon always indicates that the down-cutting of a stream keeps well ahead of the widening. [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic cross-section of a young valley.] of young valleys in loose material (drift) there are many examples in the eastern portion of the area here described. shallow canyons or gorges in rock are also found. the gorge of skillett creek at and above the pewit's nest about three miles southwest from baraboo, the gorge of dell creek two miles south of kilbourn city, and the dalles of the wisconsin at kilbourn city may serve as illustrations of this type of valley. [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic profile of a young valley.] the profile of a valley at the stage of its development corresponding to the above section is represented diagrammatically by the curve a b in fig. . the sketch (pl. xix, fig. ) represents a bird's-eye view of a valley in the same stage of development. [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic cross-section of a valley at a stage corresponding with that shown in plate xix, fig. .] at a stage of development later than that represented by the v-shaped cross-section, the corresponding section is u-shaped, as shown in fig. . the same form is sketched in plate xix, fig. . this represents a stage of development where detritus descending the slopes is not all carried away by the stream, and where the valley is being widened faster than it is deepened. its slopes are therefore becoming gentler. the profile of the valley at this stage would be much the same as that in the preceding, except that the gradient in the lower portion would be lower. still later the cross section of the valley assumes the shape shown in fig. , and in perspective the form sketched in plate xx, fig. . this transformation is effected partly by erosion, and partly by deposition in the valley. when a stream has cut its valley as low as conditions allow, it becomes sluggish. a sluggish stream is easily turned from side to side, and, directed against its banks, it may undercut them, causing them to recede at the point of undercutting. in its meanderings, it undercuts at various points at various times, and the aggregate result is the widening of the valley. by this process alone the stream would develop a flat grade. at the same time all the drainage which comes in at the sides tends to carry the walls of the valley farther from its axis. [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic cross-section of a valley at a stage later than that shown in fig. .] a sluggish stream is also generally a depositing stream. its deposits tend to aggrade (build up) the flat which its meanderings develop. when a valley bottom is built up, it becomes wider at the same time, for the valley is, as a rule, wider at any given level than at any lower one. thus the u-shaped valley is finally converted into a valley with a flat bottom, the flat being due in large part to erosion, and in smaller part to deposition. under exceptional circumstances the relative importance of these two factors may be reversed. it will be seen that the cross-section of a valley affords a clue to its age. a valley without a flat is young, and increasing age is indicated by increasing width. valleys illustrating all stages of development are to be found in the devil's lake region. the valley of honey creek southwest of devil's lake may be taken as an illustration of a valley at an intermediate stage of development, while examples of old valleys are found in the flat country about camp douglas and necedah. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xix. fig. . sketch of a valley at the stage of development corresponding to the cross section shown in fig. . illustration: fig. . sketch of a valley at the stage of development corresponding to the cross section shown in fig. .] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xx. fig. . sketch of a part of a valley at the stage of development corresponding to the cross section shown in fig . illustration: fig. . sketch of a section of the baraboo valley.] _transportation and deposition._ sediment is carried by streams in two ways: ( ) by being rolled along the bottom, and ( ) by being held in suspension. dissolved mineral matter (which is not sediment) is also carried in the water. by means of that rolled along the bottom and carried in suspension, especially the former, the stream as already stated abrades its bed. the transporting power of a stream of given size varies with its velocity. increase in the declivity or the volume of a stream increases its velocity and therefore its transportive power. the transportation effected by a stream is influenced ( ) by its transporting power, and ( ) by the size and amount of material available for carriage. fine material is carried with a less expenditure of energy than an equal amount of coarse. with the same expenditure of energy therefore a stream can carry a greater amount of the former than of the latter. since the transportation effected by a stream is dependent on its gradient, its size, and the size and amount of material available, it follows that when these conditions change so as to decrease the carrying power of the river, deposition will follow, if the stream was previously fully loaded. in other words, a stream will deposit when it becomes overloaded. overloading may come about in the following ways: ( ) by decrease in gradient, checking velocity and therefore carrying power; ( ) by decrease in amount of water, which may result from evaporation, absorption, etc.; ( ) by change in the shape of the channel, so that the friction of flow is increased, and therefore the force available for transportation lessened; ( ) by lateral drainage bringing in more sediment than the main stream can carry; ( ) by change in the character of the material to which the stream has access; for if it becomes finer, the coarse material previously carried will be dropped, and the fine taken; and ( ) by the checking of velocity when a stream flows into a body of standing water. _topographic forms resulting from stream deposition._--the topographic forms resulting from stream deposition are various. at the bottoms of steep slopes, temporary streams build _alluvial cones_ or _fans_. along its flood-plain portion, a stream deposits more or less sediment on its flats. the part played by deposition in building a river flat has already been alluded to. a depositing stream often wanders about in an apparently aimless way across its flood plain. at the bends in its course, cutting is often taking place on the outside of a curve while deposition is going on in the inside. the valley of the baraboo illustrates this process of cutting and building. fig. , plate xx, is based upon the features of the valley within the city of baraboo. besides depositing on its flood-plain, a stream often deposits in its channel. any obstruction of a channel which checks the current of a loaded stream occasions deposition. in this way "bars" are formed. once started, the bar increases in size, for it becomes an obstacle to flow, and so the cause of its own growth. it may be built up nearly to the surface of the stream, and in low water, it may become an island by the depression of the surface water. in some parts of its course, as about merrimac, the wisconsin river is marked by such islands at low water, and by a much larger number of bars. at their debouchures, streams give up their loads of sediment. under favorable conditions deltas are built, but delta-building has not entered into the physical history of this region to any notable extent. _rejuvenation of streams._ after the development of a base-level plain, its surface would suffer little change (except that effected by underground water) so long as it maintained its position. but if, after its development, a base-level plain were elevated, the old surface in a new position would be subject to a new series of changes identical in kind with those which had gone before. the elevation would give the established streams greater fall, and they would reassume the characteristics of youth. the greater fall would accelerate their velocities; the increased velocities would entail increased erosion; increased erosion would result in the deepening of the valleys, and the deepening of the valleys would lead to the roughening of the surface. but in the course of time, the _rejuvenated_ streams would have cut their valleys as low as the new altitude of the land permitted, that is, to a new base-level. the process of deepening would then stop, and the limit of vertical relief which the streams were capable of developing, would be attained. but the valleys would not stop widening when they stopped deepening, and as they widened, the intervening divides would become narrower, and ultimately lower. in the course of time they would be destroyed, giving rise to a new level surface much below the old one, but developed in the same position which the old one occupied when it originated; that is, a position but little above sea level. if at some intermediate stage in the development of a second base-level plain, say at a time when the streams, rejuvenated by uplift, had brought half the elevated surface down to a new base-level, another uplift were to occur, the half completed cycle would be brought to an end, and a new one begun. the streams would again be quickened, and as a result they would promptly cut new and deeper channels in the bottoms of the great valleys which had already been developed. the topography which would result is suggested by the following diagram (fig. ) which illustrates the cross-section which would be found after the following sequence of events: ( ) the development of a base-level, a a; ( ) uplift, rejuvenation of the streams, and a new cycle of erosion half completed, the new base-level being at b b; ( ) a second uplift, bringing the second (incomplete) cycle of erosion to a close, and by rejuvenating the streams, inaugurating the third cycle. as represented in the diagram, the third cycle has not progressed far, being represented only by the narrow valley c. the base-level is now - , and the valley represented in the diagram has not yet reached it. [illustration: fig. .--diagram (cross-section), illustrating the topographic effect of rejuvenation by uplift.] [illustration: fig. .--normal profile of a valley bottom in a non-mountainous region.] the rejuvenation of a stream shows itself in another way. the normal profile of a valley bottom in a non-mountainous region is a gentle curve, concave upward with gradient increasing from debouchure to source. such a profile is shown in fig. . fig. , on the other hand, is the profile of a rejuvenated stream. the valley once had a profile similar to that shown in fig. . below b its former continuation is marked by the dotted line b c. since rejuvenation the stream has deepened the lower part of its valley, and established there a profile in harmony with the new conditions. the upper end of the new curve has not yet reached beyond b. [illustration: fig. .--profile of a stream rejuvenated by uplift.] _underground water._ in what has preceded, reference has been made only to the results accomplished by the water which runs off over the surface. the water which sinks beneath it is, however, of no small importance in reducing a land surface. the enormous amount of mineral matter in solution in spring water bears witness to the efficiency of the ground water in dissolving rock, for since the water did not contain the mineral matter when it entered the soil, it must have acquired it below the surface. by this means alone, areas of more soluble rock are lowered below those of less solubility. furthermore, the water is still active as a solvent agent after a surface has been reduced to so low a gradient that the run-off ceases to erode mechanically. chapter iv. erosion and the development of striking scenic features. the uplift following the period of paleozoic deposition in south central wisconsin, inaugurated a period of erosion which, with some interruptions, has continued to the present day. the processes of weathering began as soon as the surface was exposed to the weather, and corrasion by running water began with the first shower which fell upon it. the sediment worn from the land was carried back to the sea, there to be used in the building of still younger formations. the rate of erosion of a land surface depends in large measure upon its height. as a rule, it is eroded rapidly if high, and but slowly if low. it is not known whether the lands of central wisconsin rose to slight or to great heights at the close of the period of paleozoic sedimentation. it is therefore not known whether the erosion was at the outset rapid or slow. if the land of southern wisconsin remained low for a time after the uplift which brought the paleozoic sedimentation to a close, weathering would have exceeded transportation and corrasion. a large proportion of the rainfall would have sunk beneath the surface, and found its way to the sea by subterranean routes. loosening of material by alternate wetting and drying, expansion and contraction, freezing and thawing, and by solution, might have gone on steadily, but so long as the land was low, there would have been little run-off, and that little would have flowed over a surface of gentle slopes, and transportation would have been at a minimum. on the whole, the degradation of the land under these conditions could not have advanced rapidly. if, on the other hand, the land was raised promptly to a considerable height, erosion would have been vigorous at the outset. the surface waters would soon have developed valleys which the streams would have widened, deepened and lengthened. both transportation and corrasion would have been active, and whatever material was prepared for transportation by weathering, and brought into the valleys by side-wash, would have been hurried on its way to the sea, and degradation would have proceeded rapidly. _establishment of drainage._--valleys were developed in this new land surface according to the principles already set forth. between the valleys there were divides, which became higher as the valleys became deeper, and narrower as the valleys widened. ultimately the ridges were lowered, and many of them finally eliminated in the manner already outlined. the distance below the original surface and that at which the first series of new flats were developed is conjectural, but it would have depended on the height of the land. so far as can now be inferred, the new base-plain toward which the streams cut may have been or feet below the crests of the quartzite ridges. it was at this level that the oldest base-plain of which this immediate region shows evidence, was developed. had the quartzite ranges not been completely buried by the paleozoic sediments, they would have appeared as ridges on the new land surface, and would have had a marked influence on the development of the drainage of the newly emerged surface. but as the ranges were probably completely buried, the drainage lines were established regardless of the position of the hard, but buried ridges. when in the process of degradation the quartzite surfaces were reached, the streams encountered a formation far more resistant than the surrounding sandstone and limestone. as the less resistant strata were worn away, the old quartzite ridges, long buried, again became prominent topographic features. in this condition they were "resurrected mountains." if, when erosion on the uplifted surface of paleozoic rocks began, a valley had been located directly over the buried quartzite ridge, and along its course, it would have been deepened normally until its bottom reached the crest of the hard formation. then, instead of sinking its valley vertically downward into the quartzite, the stream would have shifted its channel down the slope of the range along the junction of the softer and harder rock (fig. ). such changes occasioned by the nature and position of the rock concerned, are known as _adjustments_. [illustration: fig. .--diagram illustrating the hypothetical case of a stream working down the slope of the quartzite range. the successive sections of the valley are suggested by the lines ae, be, ce and de.] streams which crossed the quartzite ridges on the overlying strata might have held their courses even after their valleys were lowered to the level of the quartzite. such streams would have developed narrows at the crossing of the quartzite. in so far as there were passes in the quartzite range before the deposition of the paleozoic beds, they were filled during the long period of sedimentation, to be again cleared out during the subsequent period of erosion. the gap in the south range now occupied by the lake was a narrows in a valley which existed, though perhaps not to its present depth, before the potsdam sandstone was deposited. it was filled when the sediments of that formation were laid down, to be again opened, and perhaps deepened, in the period of erosion which followed the deposition of the paleozoic series. during the earliest period of erosion of which there is positive evidence, after the uplift of the paleozoic beds, the softer formations about the quartzite were worn down to a level or feet below the crests of the south quartzite range. at this lower level, an approximate plain, a peneplain, was developed, the level of which is shown by numerous hills, the summits of which now reach an elevation of from , to , feet above the sea. at the time of its development, this peneplain was but little above sea level, for this is the only elevation at which running water can develop such a plain. above the general level of this plain rose the quartzite ranges as elongate monadnocks, the highest parts of which were fully feet above the plain. a few other points in the vicinity failed to be reduced to the level of the peneplain. the , foot hill (d, plate xxxvii), one and one-half miles southeast of the lower narrows, and gibraltar rock (e, same plate), two miles southeast of merrimac, rose as prominences above it. it is possible that these crests are remnants of a base-level plain older than that referred to above. if while the quartzite remained much as now, the valleys in the sandstone below , or , feet were filled, the result would correspond in a general way to the surface which existed in this region when the first distinctly recognizable cycle of erosion was brought to a close. above the undulating plain developed in the sandstone and limestone, the main quartzite ridge would have risen as a conspicuous ridge to feet. this cycle had not been completed, that is, the work of base-leveling had not been altogether accomplished, when the peneplain was elevated, and the cycle, though still incomplete, brought to a close. by the uplift, the streams were rejuvenated, and sunk their valleys into the elevated peneplain. thus a new cycle of erosion was begun, and the uplifted peneplain was dissected by the quickened streams which sank their valleys promptly into the slightly resistant sandstone. at their new base-level, they ultimately developed new flats. this cycle of erosion appears to have advanced no farther than to the development of wide flats along the principal streams, such as the wisconsin and the baraboo, and narrow ones along the subordinate water courses, when it was interrupted. along the main streams the new flats were at a level which is now from to feet above the sea, and to feet below the south quartzite range. it was at this time that the plains about camp douglas and necedah, already referred to, were developed. during this second incomplete cycle, the quartzite ranges, resisting erosion, came to stand up still more prominently than during the first. the interruption of this cycle was caused by the advent of the glacial period which disturbed the normal course of erosion. this period was accompanied and followed by slight changes of level which also had their influence on the streams. the consideration of the effects of glaciation and of subsequent river erosion are postponed, but it may be stated that within the area which was glaciated the post-glacial streams have been largely occupied in removing the drift deposited by the ice from the preglacial valleys, or in cutting new valleys in the drift. the streams outside the area of glaciation were less seriously disturbed. at levels other than those indicated, partial base-levels are suggested, and although less well marked in this region, they might, in the study of a broader area, bring out a much more complicated erosion history. as already suggested, one cycle may have preceded that the remnants of which now stand , - , feet above sea level, and another may have intervened between this and that marked by the to foot level. from the foregoing it is clear that the topography of the region is, on the whole, an erosion topography, save for certain details in its eastern portion. the valleys differ in form and in size, with their age, and with the nature of the material in which they are cut; while the hills and ridges differ with varying relations to the streams, and with the nature of the material of which they are composed. _striking scenic features._ in a region so devoid of striking scenery as the central portion of the mississippi basin, topographic features which would be passed without special notice in regions of greater relief, become the objects of interest. but in south central wisconsin there are various features which would attract attention in any region where the scenery is not mountainous. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxi. cleopatra's needle. west bluff of devil's lake.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxii. turk's head. west bluff of devil's lake.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxiii. devil's doorway. east of devil's lake.] on the bluffs at devil's lake there are many minor features which are sure to attract the attention of visitors. such are "cleopatra's needle" (plate xxi), "turk's head" (plate xxii), and the "devil's doorway" (plate xxiii). these particular forms have resulted from the peculiar weathering of the quartzite. the rock is affected by several systems of vertical or nearly vertical joint planes (cracks), which divide the whole formation into a series of vertical columns. there are also horizontal and oblique planes of cleavage dividing the columns, so that the great quartzite pile may be said to be made up of a series of blocks, which are generally in contact with one another. the isolated pillars and columns which have received special names have been left as they now stand by the falling away of the blocks which once surrounded them. they themselves must soon follow. the great talus slopes at the base of the bluffs, such as those on the west side of the lake and on the east bluff near its southeast corner, plate xxiv, are silent witnesses of the extent to which this process has already gone. the blocks of rock of which they are composed have been loosened by freezing water, by the roots of trees, and by expansion and contraction due to changing temperature, and have fallen from their former positions to those they now occupy. their descent, effected by gravity directly, is, it will be noted, the first step in their journey to the sea, the final resting place of all products of land degradation. _the baraboo bluffs._--nowhere in southern wisconsin, or indeed in a large area adjacent to it, are there elevations which so nearly approach mountains as the ranges of quartzite in the vicinity of baraboo and devil's lake. so much has already been said of their history that there is need for little further description. plate iv gives some idea of the appearance of the ranges. the history of the ranges, already outlined, involves the following stages: ( ) the deposition of the sands in huronian time; ( ) the change of the sand to sandstone and the sandstone to quartzite; ( ) the uplift and deformation of the beds; ( ) igneous intrusions, faulting, crushing, and shoaring, with the development of schists accompanying the deformation; ( ) a prolonged period of erosion during which the folds of quartzite were largely worn away, though considerable ridges, the huronian mountains of early cambrian times, still remained high above their surroundings; ( ) the submergence of the region, finally involving even the crests of the ridges of quartzite; ( ) a protracted period of deposition during which the potsdam sandstone and several later paleozoic formations were laid down about, and finally over, the quartzite, burying the mountainous ridges; ( ) the elevation of the paleozoic sea-bottom, converting it into land; ( ) a long period of erosion, during which the upper paleozoic beds were removed, and the quartzite re-discovered. being much harder than the paleozoic rocks, the quartzite ridges again came to stand out as prominent ridges, as the surrounding beds of relatively slight resistance were worn away. they are "resurrected" mountains, though not with the full height which they had in pre-cambrian time, for they are still partially buried by younger beds. _the narrows in the quartzite._--there are four narrows or passes in the quartzite ridges, all of which are rather striking features. one of them is in the south range, one in the north range near its eastern end, while the others are in an isolated area of quartzite at ablemans which is really a continuation of the north range. two of these narrows are occupied by the baraboo river, one by narrows creek, and the fourth by devil's lake. from ablemans to a point several miles east of baraboo, the baraboo river flows through a capacious valley. where it crosses the north range, six miles or more north of east of baraboo, the broad valley is abruptly constricted to a narrow pass with precipitous sides, about feet high (c, plate xxxvii). this constriction is the lower narrows, conspicuous from many points on the south range, and from the plains to the north. beyond the quartzite, the valley again opens out into a broad flat. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxiv. talus slope on the east bluff of devil's lake.] seen from a distance, the narrows has the appearance of an abrupt notch in the high ridge (plate iv). seen at closer range, the gap is still more impressive. it is in striking contrast with the other narrows in that there are no talus accumulations at the bases of the steep slopes, and in that the slopes are relatively smooth and altogether free from the curious details of sculpture seen in the other gaps where the slopes are equally steep. the upper narrows of the baraboo at ablemans (b, plate ii) is in some ways similar to the lower, though less conspicuous because less deep. its slopes are more rugged, and piles of talus lie at their bases as at devil's lake. this narrows also differs from the lower in that the quartzite on one side is covered with potsdam conglomerate, which overlies the truncated edges of the vertical layers of quartzite with unconformable contact. so clear an example of unconformity is not often seen. potsdam sandstone is also seen to rest against the quartzite on either side of the narrows (fig. ), thus emphasizing the unconformity. the beauty and interest of this narrows is enhanced by the quartzite breccia ( which appears on its walls. [illustration: fig. .--a generalized diagrammatic cross-section at the upper narrows, to show the relation of the sandstone to the quartzite.] one and one-half miles west of ablemans (a, plate ii) is the third pass in the north quartzite ridge. this pass is narrower than the others, and is occupied by narrows creek. its walls are nearly vertical and possess the same rugged beauty as those at ablemans. as at the upper narrows, the beds of quartzite here are essentially vertical. they are indeed the continuation of the beds exposed at that place. the fourth narrows is across the south range (i, plate ii). it is not now occupied by a stream, though like the others it was cut by a stream, which was afterwards shut out from it. because of its depth, feet, and the ruggedness of its slopes, and because of its occupancy by the lake, this pass is the center of interest for the whole region. so much has already been said concerning it in other portions of this report that further description is here omitted. the manner in which the pass was robbed of its stream will be discussed later. the history of these several narrows, up to the time of the glacial period may now be summarized. since remnants of potsdam sandstone are found in some of them, it is clear that they existed in pre-cambrian time,[ ] and there is no reason to doubt that they are the work of the streams of those ancient days, working as streams now work. following the pre-cambrian period of erosion during which the notches were cut, came the submergence of the region, and the gaps were filled with sand and gravel, and finally the ridges themselves were buried. uplift and a second period of erosion followed, during which the quartzite ranges were again exposed by the removal of the beds which overlay them, and the narrows cleaned out and deepened, and again occupied by streams. this condition of things lasted up to the time when the ice invaded the region. [ ] it is not here asserted that these notches were as deep as now, in pre-cambrian time. it is, however, certain that the quartzite was deeply eroded, previous to the deposition of the potsdam sandstone. _glens._--no enumeration of the special scenic features of this region would be complete without mention of parfrey's and dorward's glens (a and b, plate xxxvii, and plate xxv). attention has already been directed to them as illustrations of young valleys, and as places where the potsdam conglomerate is well shown, but they are attractive from the scenic point of view. their frequent mention in earlier parts of this report makes further reference to them at this point unnecessary. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxv. in dorward's glen. the basal conglomerate of the potsdam formation is shown at the lower right-hand corner, and is overlain by sandstone. (photograph furnished by mr. wilfred dorward).] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxvi. natural bridge near denzer.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxvii. navy yard. dalles of the wisconsin.] pine hollow (k, plate ii) is another attractive gorge on the south flank of the greater quartzite range. the rock at this point is especially well exposed. this gorge is beyond the drift-covered portion of the range, and therefore dates from the pre-glacial time. the pewit's nest, about three miles southwest of baraboo (m, plate ii), is another point of interest. above the "nest," skillett creek flows through a narrow and picturesque gorge in the potsdam sandstone. the origin of this gorge is explained elsewhere. _natural bridge._--about two miles north and a little west of the village of denzer (sec. , t. n., r. e.), is a small natural bridge, which has resulted from the unequal weathering of the sandstone (see plate xxvi). the "bridge" is curious, rather than beautiful or impressive. _the dalles of the wisconsin._--the _dalles_ is the term applied to a narrow canyon-like stretch of the wisconsin valley seven miles in length, near kilbourn city (see frontispiece). the depth of the gorge is from to feet. the part above the bridge at kilbourn city is the "upper dalles;" that below, the "lower dalles." within this stretch of the valley are perhaps the most picturesque features of the region. the sides of the gorge are nearly vertical much of the way, and at many points are so steep on both sides that landing would be impossible. between these sandstone walls flows the deep and swift wisconsin river. such a rock gorge is in itself a thing of beauty, but in the dalles there are many minor features which enhance the charm of the whole. one of the features which deserves especial mention is the peculiar crenate form of the walls at the banks of the river. this is perhaps best seen in that part of the dalles known as the "navy yard." plate xxvii. the sandstone is affected by a series of vertical cracks or joints. from weathering, the rock along these joints becomes softened, and the running water wears the softened rock at the joint planes more readily than other parts of its bank, and so develops a reëntrant at these points. rain water descending to the river finds and follows the joint planes, and thus widens the cracks. as a result of stream and rain and weathering, deep reëntrant angles are produced. the projections between are rounded off so that the banks of the stream have assumed the crenate form shown in plate xxviii, and frontispiece. when this process of weathering at the joints is carried sufficiently far, columns of rock become isolated, and stand out on the river bluffs as "chimneys" (plate xxviii). at a still later stage of development, decay of the rock along the joint planes may leave a large mass of rock completely isolated. "steamboat rock" (plate xii) and "sugar bowl" (plate xxix) are examples of islands thus formed. the walls of sandstone weather in a peculiar manner at some points in the lower dalles, as shown on plate xxx. the little ridges stand out because they are harder and resist weathering better than the other parts. this is due in part at least to the presence of iron in the more resistant portions, cementing them more firmly. in the process of segregation, cementing materials are often distributed unequally. the effect of differences in hardness on erosion is also shown on a larger scale and in other ways. perhaps the most striking illustration is _stand rock_ (plate xxxi), but most of the innumerable and picturesque irregularities on the rock walls are to be accounted for by such differences. minor valleys tributary to the wisconsin, such as _witch's gulch_ and _cold water canyon_ deserve mention, both because of their beauty, and because they illustrate a type of erosion at an early stage of valley development. in character they are comparable to the larger gorge to which they are tributary. in the downward cutting, which far exceeds the side wear in these tributary canyons, the water has excavated large bowl or jug-like forms. in witch's gulch such forms are now being excavated. they are developed just below falls, where the water carrying debris, eddies, and the jugs or pot-holes are the result of the wear effected by the eddies. the "devil's jug" and many similar hollows are thus explained. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxviii. chimney rock. dalles of the wisconsin. cross-bedding well shown in foreground near bottom.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxix. an island in the lower dalles.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxx. view in lower dalles showing peculiar honeycomb weathering.] _the mounds and castle rocks._--in the vicinity of camp douglas and over a large area to the east, are still other striking topographic forms, which owe their origin to different conditions, though they were fashioned by the same forces. here there are many "tower" or "castle" rocks, which rise to heights varying from to feet above the surrounding plain. they are remnants of beds which were once continuous over the low lands above which the hills now rise. in plates xvii and xviii the general character of these hills is shown. the rock of which they are composed is potsdam sandstone, the same formation which underlies most of the area about baraboo. the effect of the vertical joints and of horizontal layers of unequal hardness is well shown. rains, winds, frosts, and roots are still working to compass the destruction of these picturesque hills, and the talus of sand bordering the "castle" is a reminder of the fate which awaits them. these hills are the more conspicuous and the more instructive since the plain out of which they rise is so flat. it is indeed one of the best examples of a base-level plain to be found on the continent. the crests of these hills reach an elevation of between , and , feet. they appear to correspond with the level of the first peneplain recognized in the devil's lake region. it was in the second cycle of erosion, when their surroundings were brought down to the new base-level, that these hills were left. west of camp douglas, there are still higher elevations, which seem to match gibraltar rock. the friendship "mounds" north of kilbourn city, the castellated hills a few miles northwest of the same place, and petenwell peak on the banks of the wisconsin (plate xxxii), are further examples of the same class of hills. all are of potsdam sandstone. in addition to the "castle" rocks and base-level plain about camp douglas, other features should be mentioned. no other portion of the area touched upon in this report affords such fine examples of the different types of erosion topography. in the base-level plain are found "old-age" valleys, broad and shallow, with the stream meandering in a wide flood-plain. traveling up such a valley, the topography becomes younger and younger, and the various stages mentioned earlier in the text, and suggested in plate xix, figs. and , and plate xx, fig. , are here illustrated. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxxi. stand rock. upper end of the upper dalles.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxxii. petenwell peak.] chapter v. the glacial period. the eastern part of the area with which this report deals, is covered with a mantle of drift which, as already pointed out, has greatly modified the details of its topography. to the consideration of the drift and its history attention is now turned. _the drift._--the drift consists of a body of clay, sand, gravel and bowlders, spread out as a cover of unequal thickness over the rock formations beneath. these various classes of material may be confusedly commingled, or they may be more or less distinctly separated from one another. when commingled, all may be in approximately equal proportions, or any one may predominate over any or all the others to any extent. it was long since recognized that the materials of the drift did not originate where they now lie, and that, in consequence, they sustain no genetic relationship to the strata on which they rest. long before the drift received any special attention from geologists, it was well known that it had been transported from some other locality to that where it now occurs. the early conception was that it had been drifted into its present position from some outside source by water. it was this conception of its origin which gave it the name of _drift_. it is now known that the drift was deposited by glacier ice and the waters which arose from its melting, but the old name is still retained. clearly to understand the origin of the drift, and the method by which it attained its present distribution, it may be well to consider some elementary facts and principles concerning climate and its effects, even at the risk of repeating what is already familiar. _snow fields and ice sheets._--the temperature and the snowfall of a region may stand in such a relation to each other that the summer's heat may barely suffice to melt the winter's snow. if under these circumstances the annual temperature were to be reduced, or the fall of snow increased, the summer's heat would fail to melt all the winter's snow, and some portion of it would endure through the summer, and through successive summers, constituting a perennial snow-field. were this process once inaugurated, the depth of the snow would increase from year to year. the area of the snow-field would be extended at the same time, since the snow-field would so far reduce the surrounding temperature as to increase the proportion of the annual precipitation which fell as snow. in the course of time, and under favorable conditions, the area of the snow-field would attain great dimensions, and the depth of the snow would become very great. as in the case of existing snow fields the lower part of the snow mass would eventually be converted into ice. several factors would conspire to this end. . the pressure of the overlying snow would tend to compress the lower portion, and snow rendered sufficiently compact by compression would be regarded as ice. . water arising from the melting of the surface snow by the sun's heat, would percolate through the superficial layers of snow, and, freezing below, take the form of ice. . on standing, even without pressure or partial melting, snow appears to undergo changes of crystallization which render it more compact. in these and perhaps other ways, a snow-field becomes an ice-field, the snow being restricted to its surface. eventually the increase in the depth of the snow and ice in a snow-field will give rise to new phenomena. let a snow and ice field be assumed in which the depth of snow and ice is greatest at the center, with diminution toward its edges. the field of snow, if resting on a level base, would have some such cross-section as that represented in the diagram, fig. . when the thickness of the ice has become considerable, it is evident that the pressure upon its lower and marginal parts will be great. we are wont to think of ice as a brittle solid. if in its place there were some plastic substance which would yield to pressure, the weight of the ice would cause the marginal parts to extend themselves in all directions by a sort of flowing motion. [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic cross-section of a field of ice and snow (c) resting on a level base a-b.] under great pressure, many substances which otherwise appear to be solid, exhibit the characteristics of plastic bodies. among the substances exhibiting this property, ice is perhaps best known. brittle and resistant as it seems, it may yet be molded into almost any desirable form if subjected to sufficient pressure, steadily applied through long intervals of time. the changes of form thus produced in ice are brought about without visible fracture. concerning the exact nature of the movement, physicists are not agreed; but the result appears to be essentially such as would be brought about if the ice were capable of flowing, with extreme slowness, under great pressure continuously applied. in the assumed ice-field, there are the conditions for great pressure and for its continuous application. if the ice be capable of moving as a plastic body, the weight of the ice would induce gradual movement outward from the center of the field, so that the area surrounding the region where the snow accumulated would gradually be encroached upon by the spreading of the ice. observation shows that this is what takes place in every snow-field of sufficient depth. motion thus brought about is glacier motion, and ice thus moving is glacier ice. once in motion, two factors would determine the limit to which the ice would extend itself: ( ) the rate at which it advances; and ( ) the rate at which the advancing edge is wasted. the rate of advance would depend upon several conditions, one of which, in all cases, would be the pressure of the ice which started and which perpetuates the motion. if the pressure be increased the ice will advance more rapidly, and if it advance more rapidly, it will advance farther before it is melted. other things remaining constant, therefore, increase of pressure will cause the ice-sheet to extend itself farther from the center of motion. increase of snowfall will increase the pressure of the snow and ice field by increasing its mass. if, therefore, the precipitation over a given snow-field be increased for a period of years, the ice-sheet's marginal motion will be accelerated, and its area enlarged. a decrease of precipitation, taken in connection with unchanged wastage would decrease the pressure of the ice and retard its movement. if, while the rate of advance diminished, the rate of wastage remained constant, the edge of the ice would recede, and the snow and ice field be contracted. the rate at which the edge of the advancing ice is wasted depends largely on the climate. if, while the rate of advance remains constant, the climate becomes warmer, melting will be more rapid, and the ratio between melting and advance will be increased. the edge of the ice will therefore recede. the same result will follow, if, while temperature remains constant, the atmosphere becomes drier, since this will increase wastage by evaporation. were the climate to become warmer and drier at the same time, the rate of recession of the ice would be greater than if but one of these changes occurred. if, on the other hand, the temperature over and about the ice field be lowered, melting will be diminished, and if the rate of movement be constant, the edge of the ice will advance farther than under the earlier conditions of temperature, since it has more time to advance before it is melted. an increase in the humidity of the atmosphere, while the temperature remains constant, will produce the same result, since increased humidity of the atmosphere diminishes evaporation. a decrease of temperature, decreasing the melting, and an increase of humidity, decreasing the evaporation, would cause the ice to advance farther than either change alone, since both changes decrease the wastage. if, at the same time that conditions so change as to increase the rate of movement of the ice, climatic conditions so change as to reduce the rate of waste, the advance of the ice before it is melted will be greater than where only one set of conditions is altered. if, instead of favoring advance, the two series of conditions conspire to cause the ice to recede, the recession will likewise be greater than when but one set of conditions is favorable thereto. greenland affords an example of the conditions here described. a large part of the half million or more square miles which this body of land is estimated to contain, is covered by a vast sheet of snow and ice, thousands of feet in thickness. in this field of snow and ice, there is continuous though slow movement. the ice creeps slowly toward the borders of the island, advancing until it reaches a position where the climate is such as to waste (melt and evaporate) it as rapidly as it advances. the edge of the ice does not remain fixed in position. there is reason to believe that it alternately advances and retreats as the ratio between movement and waste increases or decreases. these oscillations in position are doubtless connected with climatic changes. when the ice edge retreats, it may be because the waste is increased, or because the snowfall is decreased, or both. in any case, when the ice edge recedes from the coast, it tends to recede until its edge reaches a position where the melting is less rapid than in its former position, and where the advance is counterbalanced by the waste. this represents a condition of equilibrium so far as the edge of the ice is concerned, and here the edge of the ice would remain so long as the conditions were unchanged. when for a period of years the rate of melting of the ice is diminished, or the snowfall increased, or both, the ice edge advances to a new line where melting is more rapid than at its former edge. the edge of the ice would tend to reach a position where waste and advance balance. here its advance would cease, and here its edge would remain so long as climatic conditions were unchanged. if the conditions determining melting and flowage be continually changing, the ice edge will not find a position of equilibrium, but will advance when the conditions are favorable for advance, and retreat when the conditions are reversed. not only the edge of the ice in greenland, but the ends of existing mountain glaciers as well, are subject to fluctuation, and are delicate indices of variations in the climate of the regions where they occur. _the north american ice sheet._--in an area north of the eastern part of the united states and in another west of hudson bay it is believed that ice sheets similar to that which now covers greenland began to accumulate at the beginning of the glacial period. from these areas as centers, the ice spread in all directions, partly as the result of accumulation, and partly as the result of movement induced by the weight of the ice itself. the ice sheets spreading from these centers came together south of hudson's bay, and invaded the territory of the united states as a single sheet, which, at the time of its greatest development, covered a large part of our country (plate xxxiii), its area being known by the extent of the drift which it left behind when it was melted. in the east, it buried the whole of new england, most of new york, and the northern parts of new jersey and pennsylvania. farther west, the southern margin of the ice crossed the ohio river in the vicinity of cincinnati, and pushed out over the uplands a few miles south of the river. in indiana, except at the extreme east, its margin fell considerably short of the ohio; in illinois it reached well toward that river, attaining here its most southerly latitude. west of the mississippi, the line which marks the limit of its advance curves to the northward, and follows, in a general way, the course of the missouri river. the total area of the north american ice sheet, at the time of its maximum development, has been estimated to have been about , , square miles, or about ten times the estimated area of the present ice-field of greenland. within the general area covered by the ice, there is an area of several thousand square miles, mainly in southwestern wisconsin, where there is no drift. the ice, for some reason, failed to cover this _driftless area_ though it overwhelmed the territory on all sides. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxxiii. the north american ice sheet, at the time of maximum development.] [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxxiv. view from the north of the owl's head, a hill two miles north of east of merrimac, which has been shaped by the ice. the side to the left is the stone side.] plate ii shows the limit of ice advance in the area here described. the region may have been affected by the ice of more than one glacial epoch, but the chief results now observable were effected during the last, and the others need not be considered. _the work of glacier ice._ as the edge of an ice sheet, or as the end of a glacier, retreats, the land which it has previously covered is laid bare, and the effects which the passage of the ice produced may be seen. in some cases one may actually go back a short distance beneath the ice now in motion, and see its mode of work and the results it is effecting. the beds of living glaciers, and the beds which glaciers have recently abandoned, are found to present identical features. because of their greater accessibility, the latter offer the better facilities for determining the effects of glaciation. the conspicuous phenomena of abandoned glacier beds fall into two classes, ( ) those which pertain to the bed rock over which the ice moved, and ( ) those which pertain to the drift left by the ice. _erosive work of the ice._--_effect on topography._--the leading features of the rock bed over which glacier ice has moved, are easily recognized. its surface is generally smoothed and polished, and frequently marked by lines (striæ) or grooves, parallel to one another. an examination of the bottom of an active glacier discloses the method by which the polishing and scoring are accomplished. the lower surface of the ice is thickly set with a quantity of clay, sand, and stony material of various grades of coarseness. these earthy and stony materials in the base of the ice are the tools with which it works. thus armed, the glacier ice moves slowly forward, resting down upon the surfaces over which it passes with the whole weight of its mass, and the grinding action between the stony layer at the base of the ice and the rock bed over which it moves, is effective. if the material in the bottom of the ice be fine, like clay, the rock bed is polished. if coarser materials, harder than the bed-rock, be mingled with the fine, the rock bed of the glacier will be scratched as well as polished. if there are bowlders in the bottom of the ice they may cut grooves or gorges in the underlying rock. the grooves may subsequently be polished by the passage over and through them of ice carrying clay or other fine, earthy matter. all these phases of rock wear may be seen about the termini of receding glaciers, on territory which they have but recently abandoned. there can thus be no possible doubt as to the origin of the polishing, planing and scoring. there are other peculiarities, less easily defined, which characterize the surface of glacier beds. the wear effected is not confined to the mere marking of the surface over which it passes. if prominences of rock exist in its path, as is often the case, they oppose the movement of the ice, and receive a corresponding measure of abrasion from it. if they be sufficiently resistant they may force the ice to yield by passing over or around them; but if they be weak, they are likely to be destroyed. as the ice of the north american ice sheet advanced, seemingly more rigid when it encountered yielding bodies, and more yielding when it encountered resistant ones, it denuded the surface of its loose and movable materials, and carried them forward. this accumulation of earthy and stony debris in the bottom of the ice, gave it a rough and grinding lower surface, which enabled it to abrade the land over which it passed much more effectively than ice alone could have done. every hill and every mound which the ice encountered contested its advance. every sufficiently resistant elevation compelled the ice to pass around or over it; but even in these cases the ice left its marks upon the surface to which it yielded. the powerful pressure of pure ice, which is relatively soft, upon firm hills of rock, which are relatively hard, would effect little. the hills would wear the ice, but the effect of the ice on the hills would be slight. but where the ice is supplied with earthy and stony material derived from the rock itself, the case is different. under these conditions, the ice, yielding only under great pressure and as little as may be, rubs its rock-shod base over every opposing surface, and with greatest severity where it meets with greatest resistance. its action may be compared to that of a huge "flexible-rasp" fitting down snugly over hills and valleys alike, and working under enormous pressure. the abrasion effected by a moving body of ice under such conditions would be great. every inch of ice advance would be likely to be attended by loss to the surface of any obstacle over or around which it is compelled to move. the sharp summits of the hills, and all the angular rugosities of their surfaces would be filed off, and the hills smoothed down to such forms as will offer progressively less and less resistance. if the process of abrasion be continued long enough, the forms, even of the large hills, may be greatly altered, and their dimensions greatly reduced. among the results of ice wear, therefore, will be a lowering of the hills, and a smoothing and softening of their contours, while their surfaces will bear the marks of the tools which fashioned them, and will be polished, striated or grooved, according to the nature of the material which the ice pressed down upon them during its passage. figs. and show the topographic effects which ice is likely to produce by erosion. plate xxxiv is a hill two miles northeast of merrimac, which shows how perfectly the wear actually performed corresponds to that which might be inferred. [illustration: fig. .--a hill before the ice passes over it.] a rock hill was sometimes left without covering of drift after having been severely worn by the ice. such a hill is known as a _roche moutonnée_. an example of this type of hill occurs three miles north of east of baraboo at the point marked z on plate xxxvii. this hill, composed of quartzite, is less symmetrical than those shown in figs. and . its whole surface, not its stoss side only, has been smoothed and polished by the ice. this hill is the most accessible, the most easily designated, and, on the whole, the best example of a _roche moutonnée_ in the region, though many other hills show something of the same form. [illustration: fig. .--the same hill after it has been eroded by the ice. a the stoss side. b the lee side.] it was not the hills alone which the moving ice affected. where it encountered valleys in its course they likewise suffered modification. where the course of a valley was parallel to the direction of the ice movement, the ice moved through it. the depth of moving ice is one of the determinants of its velocity, and because of the greater depth of ice in valleys, its motion here was more rapid than on the uplands above, and its abrading action more powerful. under these conditions the valleys were deepened and widened. where the courses of the valleys were transverse to the direction of ice movement, the case was different. the ice was too viscous to span the valleys, and therefore filled them. in this case it is evident that the greater depth of the ice in the valley will not accelerate its motion, since the ice in the valley-trough and that above it are in a measure opposed. if left to itself, the ice in the valley would tend to flow in the direction of the axis of the valley. but in the case under consideration, the ice which lies above the valley depression is in motion at right angles to the axis of the valley. under these circumstances three cases might arise: ( ) if the movement of the ice sheet over the valley were able to push the valley ice up the farther slope, and out on the opposite highland, this work would retard the movement of the upper ice, since the resistance to movement would be great. in this case, the thickness of the ice is not directly and simply a determinant of its velocity. under these conditions the bottom of the valley would not suffer great erosion, since ice did not move along it; but that slope of the valley against which the ice movement was projected would suffer great wear (fig. ). the valley would therefore be widened, and the slope suffering greatest wear would be reduced to a lower angle. shallow valleys, and those possessing gentle slopes, favor this phase of ice movement and valley wear. [illustration: fig. .--diagram showing effect on valley of ice moving transversely across it.] ( ) the ice in the valley might become stationary, in which case it might serve as a bridge for the upper ice to cross on (fig. ). in this case also the total thickness of ice will not be a determinant of its velocity, for it is the thickness of the moving ice only, which influences the velocity. in this case the valley would not suffer much wear, so long as this condition of things continued. valleys which have great depth relative to the thickness of the ice, and valleys whose slopes are steep, favor this phase of movement. ( ) in valleys whose courses are transverse to the direction of ice movement, transverse currents of ice may exist, following the direction of the valleys. if the thickness of the ice be much greater than the depth of the valley, if the valley be capacious, and if one end of it be open and much lower than the other, the ice filling it may move along its axis, while the upper ice continues in its original course at right angles to the valley. in this case the valley would be deepened and widened, but this effect would be due to the movement along its course, rather than to that transverse to it. [illustration: fig. --diagram to illustrate case where ice fills a valley (c) and the upper ice then moves on over the filling.] if the course of a valley were oblique to the direction of ice movement, its effect on the movement of ice would be intermediate between that of valleys parallel to the direction of movement, and those at right angles to it. it follows from the foregoing that the corrasive effects of ice upon the surface over which it passed, were locally dependent on pre-existent topography, and its relation to the direction of ice movement. in general, the effort was to cut down prominences, thus tending to level the surface. but when it encountered valleys parallel to its movement they were deepened, thus locally increasing relief. whether the reduction of the hills exceeded the deepening of the valleys, or whether the reverse was true, so far as corrasion alone is concerned, is uncertain. but whatever the effect of the erosive effect of ice action upon the total amount of relief, the effect upon the contours was to make them more gentle. not only were the sharp hills rounded off, but even the valleys which were deepened were widened as well, and in the process their slopes became more gentle. a river-erosion topography, modified by the wearing (not the depositing) action of the ice, would be notably different from the original, by reason of its gentler slopes and softer contours (figs. and ). _deposition by the ice. effect on topography._--on melting, glacier ice leaves its bed covered with the debris which it gathered during its movement. had this debris been equally distributed on and in and beneath the ice during its movement, and had the conditions of deposition been everywhere the same, the drift would constitute a mantle of uniform thickness over the underlying rock. such a mantle of drift would not greatly alter the topography; it would simply raise the surface by an amount equal to the thickness of the drift, leaving elevations and depressions of the same magnitude as before, and sustaining the same relations to one another. but the drift carried by the ice, in whatever position, was not equally distributed during transportation, and the conditions under which it was deposited were not uniform, so that it produced more or less notable changes in the topography of the surface on which it was deposited. the unequal distribution of the drift is readily understood. the larger part of the drift transported by the ice was carried in its basal portion; but since the surface over which the ice passed was variable, it yielded a variable amount of debris to the ice. where it was hilly, the friction between it and the ice was greater than where it was plain, and the ice carried away more load. from areas where the surface was overspread by a great depth of loose material favorably disposed for removal, more debris was taken than from areas where material in a condition to be readily transported was meager. because of the topographic diversity and lithological heterogeneity of the surface of the country over which it passed, some portions of the ice carried much more drift than others, and when the ice finally melted, greater depths of drift were left in some places than in others. not all of the material transported by the ice was carried forward until the ice melted. some of it was probably carried but a short distance from its original position before it lodged. drift was thus accumulating at some points beneath the ice during its onward motion. at such points the surface was being built up; at other points, abrasion was taking place, and the surface was being cut down. the drift mantle of any region does not, therefore, represent simply the material which was on and in and beneath the ice of that place at the time of its melting, but it represents, in addition, all that lodged beneath the ice during its movement. the constant tendency was for the ice to carry a considerable part of its load forward toward its thinned edge, and there to leave it. it follows that if the edge of the ice remained constant in position for any considerable period of time, large quantities of drift would have accumulated under its marginal portion, giving rise to a belt of relatively thick drift. other things being equal, the longer the time during which the position of the edge was stationary, the greater the accumulation of drift. certain ridge-like belts where the drift is thicker than on either hand, are confidently believed to mark the position where the edge of the ice-sheet stood for considerable periods of time. because of the unequal amounts of material carried by different parts of the ice, and because of the unequal and inconstant conditions of deposition under the body of the ice and its edge, the mantle of drift has a very variable thickness; and a mantle of drift of variable thickness cannot fail to modify the topography of the region it covers. the extent of the modification will depend on the extent of the variation. this amounts in the aggregate, to hundreds of feet. the continental ice sheet, therefore, modified the topography of the region it covered, not only by the wear it effected, but also by the deposits it made. in some places it chanced that the greater thicknesses of drift were left in the positions formerly marked by valleys. locally the body of drift was so great that valleys were completely filled, and therefore completely obliterated as surface features. less frequently, drift not only filled the valleys but rose even higher over their former positions than on either side. in other places the greater depths of drift, instead of being deposited in the valleys, were left on pre-glacial elevations, building them up to still greater heights. in short, the mantle of drift of unequal thickness was laid down upon the rock surface in such a manner that the thicker parts sometimes rest on hills and ridges, sometimes on slopes, sometimes on plains, and sometimes in valleys. [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic section showing relation of drift to underlying rock, where the drift is thick relative to the relief of the rock. a and b represent the location of post-glacial valleys.] these relations are suggested by figs. and . from them it will be seen that in regions where the thickness of the drift is great, relative to the relief of the underlying rock, the topography may be completely changed. not only may some of the valleys be obliterated by being filled, but some of the hills may be obliterated by having the lower land between them built up to their level. in regions where the thickness of the drift is slight, relative to the relief of the rock beneath, the hills cannot be buried, and the valleys cannot be completely filled, so that the relative positions of the principal topographic features will remain much the same after the deposition of the drift, as before (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic section showing relation of drift to underlying rock where the drift is thin relative to the relief of the underlying rock.] in case the pre-glacial valleys were filled and the hills buried, the new valleys which the surface waters will in time cut in the drift surface will have but little correspondence in position with those which existed before the ice incursion. a new system of valleys, and therefore a new system of ridges and hills, will be developed, in some measure independent of the old. these relations are illustrated by fig. . inequalities in the thickness of drift lead to a still further modification of the surface. it frequently happened that in a plane or nearly plane region a slight thickness of drift was deposited at one point, while all about it much greater thicknesses were left. the area of thin drift would then constitute a depression, surrounded by a higher surface built up by the thicker deposits. such depressions would at first have no outlets, and are therefore unlike the depressions shaped by rain and river erosion. the presence of depressions without outlets is one of the marks of a drift-covered (glaciated) country. in these depressions water may collect, forming lakes or ponds, or in some cases only marshes and bogs. direction of ice movement. the direction in which glacier ice moved may be determined in various ways, even after the ice has disappeared. the shapes of the rock hills over which the ice passed, the direction from which the materials of the drift came, and the course of the margin of the drift, all show that the ice of south central wisconsin was moving in a general southwest direction. in the rock hills, this is shown by the greater wear of their northeast ("stoss") sides (plate xxxiv). from the course of the drift margin, the general direction of movement may be inferred when it is remembered that the tendency of glacier ice on a plane surface is to move at right angles to its margin. for the exact determination of the direction of ice movement, recourse must be had to the striæ on the bed-rock. were the striated rock surface perfectly plane, and were the striæ even lines, they would only tell that the ice was moving in one of two directions. but the rock surface is not usually perfectly plane, nor the striæ even lines, and between the two directions which lines alone might suggest, it is usually possible to decide. the minor prominences and depressions in the rock surface were shaped according to the same principles that govern the shaping of hills (fig. ) and valleys (fig. ); that is, the stoss sides of the minor prominences, and the distal sides of small depressions suffered the more wear. with a good compass, the direction of the striæ may be measured to within a fraction of a degree, and thus the direction of ice movement in a particular place be definitely determined. the striæ which have been determined about baraboo are shown on plate ii. _effect of topography on movement._--the effect of glaciation on topography has been sketched, but the topography in turn exerted an important influence on the direction of ice movement. the extreme degree of topographic influence is seen in mountain regions like the alps, where most of the glaciers are confined strictly to the valleys. as an ice sheet invades a region, it advances first and farthest along the lines of least resistance. in a rough country with great relief, tongues or lobes of ice would push forward in the valleys, while the hills or other prominences would tend to hold back or divide the onward moving mass. the edge of an ice sheet in such a region would be irregular. the marginal lobes of ice occupying the valleys would be separated by re-entrant angles marking the sites of hills and ridges. if the ice crossed a plane surface above which rose a notable ridge or hill, the first effect of the hill would be to indent the ice. the ice would move forward on either side, and if its thickness became sufficiently great, the parts moving forward on either side would again unite beyond it. a hill thus surrounded by ice is a nunatak. later, as the advancing mass of ice became thicker, it might completely cover the hill; but the thickness of ice passing over the hill would be less than that passing on either side by an amount equal to the height of the hill. it follows that as ice encounters an isolated elevation, three stages in its contest with the obstruction may be recognized: ( ) the stage when the ridge or hill acts as a wedge, dividing the moving ice into lobes, fig. ; ( ) the nunatak stage, when the ice has pushed forward and reunited beyond the hill, fig. ; ( ) the stage when the ice has become sufficiently deep to cover the hill. [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic representation of the effect of a hill on the edge of the ice.] after the ice has disappeared, the influence of the obstruction might be found in the disposition of the drift. if recession began during the first stage, that is, when the ice edge was separated into lobes, the margin of the drift should be lobate, and would loop back around the ridge from its advanced position on either side. if recession began during the second stage, that is, when the lobes had become confluent and completely surrounded the hill, a _driftless area_ would appear in the midst of drift. if recession began during the third stage, that is, after the ice had moved on over the obstruction, the evidence of the sequence might be obliterated; but if the ice moved but a short distance beyond the hill, the thinner ice over the hill would have advanced less far than the thicker ice on either side (fig. ), and the margin of the drift would show a re-entrant pointing back toward the hill, though not reaching it. all these conditions are illustrated in the devil's lake region. [illustration: fig. .--same as fig. , when the ice has advanced farther.] _limit of the ice._ the region under description is partly covered with drift, and partly free from it. the limit of the ice, at the time of its maximum expansion is well defined at many points, and the nature and position of the drift limit are so unique as to merit attention (see plates ii and xxxvii). they illustrate many of the principles already discussed. the ice which covered the region was the western margin of the green bay lobe (fig. ) of the last continental ice sheet. its limit in this region is marked by a ridge-like accumulation of drift, the _terminal moraine_, which here has a general north-south direction. the region may have been affected by the ice of more than one epoch, but since the ice of the last epoch advanced as far to the west in this region as that of any earlier epoch, the moraine is on the border between the glaciated country to the east, and the driftless area to the west (plates i and ii). that part of the moraine which lies west of the wisconsin river follows a somewhat sinuous course from kilbourn city to a point a short distance north of prairie du sac. the departures from this general course are especially significant of the behavior of glacier ice. [illustration: fig. .--map showing relations of lobes of ice during the wisconsin ice epoch, to the driftless area.] in the great depression between the quartzite ranges, the moraine bends westward, showing that the ice advanced farther on the lowlands than on the ridges. as the moraine of this low area approaches the south range, it curves to the east. at the point southwest of baraboo where the easterly curve begins to show itself, the moraine lies at the north base of the quartzite range; but as it is traced eastward, it is found to lie higher and higher on the slope of the range, until it reaches the crest nearly seven miles from the point where the eastward course was assumed. at this point it crosses the range, and, once across the crest, it turns promptly to the westward on the lower land to the south. here the ice advanced up the valley between the east bluff (east of the lake) and the devil's nose (plate xxxvii), again illustrating the fact that lowlands favor ice advance. the valley between the devil's nose and the east bluff is a narrow one, and the ice advanced through it nearly to the present site of the lake. meanwhile the restraining influence of the "nose" was making itself felt, and the margin of the ice curved back from the bottom of the bluff near kirkland, to the top of the bluff at the end of the nose. here the edge of the ice crossed the point of the nose, and after rounding it, turned abruptly to the west. thence its edge lay along the south slope of the ridge, descending from the crest of the ridge at the nose, to the base of the ridge two miles farther west. here the ice reached its limit on the lowland, and its edge, as marked by the moraine, turned southward, reaching the wisconsin river about a mile and a half above prairie du sac. the course of the terminal moraine across the ridges is such as the margin of the ice would normally have when it advanced into a region of great relief. the great loop in the moraine with its eastern extremity at k, plate xxxvii, is explained by the presence of the quartzite ridge which retarded the advancing ice while it moved forward on either side. the minor loop around the devil's nose is explained in the same way. both the main loop, and the smaller one on the nose, illustrate the point made earlier in the text. the narrow and curious loop at m, is of a slightly different origin, though in principle the same. it is in the lee of a high point in the quartzite ridge. the ice surmounted this point, and descended its western slope; but the thickness of the ice passing over the summit was so slight that it advanced but a short distance down the slope before its force was exhausted, while the thicker ice on either side advanced farther before it was melted. _glacial deposits._ before especial reference is made to the drift of this particular region, it will be well to consider the character of drift deposits in general. when the ice of the continental glacier began its motion, it carried none of the stony and earthy debris which constitute the drift. these materials were derived from the surface over which the ice moved. from the method by which it was gathered, it is evident that the drift of any locality may contain fragments of rock of every variety which occurs along the route followed by the ice which reached that locality. where the ice had moved far, and where there were frequent changes in the character of the rock constituting its bed, the variety of materials in the drift is great. the heterogeneity of the drift arising from the diverse nature of the rocks which contributed to it is _lithological heterogeneity_--a term which implies the commingling of materials derived from different rock formations. thus it is common to find pieces of sandstone, limestone, quartzite, granite, gneiss, schist, etc., intimately commingled in the drift, wherever the ice which produced it passed over formations of these several sorts of rock. lithological heterogeneity is one of the notable characteristics of glacial formations. another characteristic of the drift is its _physical heterogeneity_. as first gathered from the bed of moving ice, some of the materials of the drift were fine and some coarse. the tendency of the ice in all cases was to reduce its load to a still finer condition. some of the softer materials, such as soft shale, were crushed or ground to powder, forming what is known in common parlance as clay. clayey (fine) material is likewise produced by the grinding action of ice-carried bowlders upon the rock-bed, and upon one another. other sorts of rock, such as soft sandstone, were reduced to the physical condition of sand, instead of clay, and from sand to bowlders all grades of coarseness and fineness are represented in the glacial drift. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxxv. cut in drift, showing its physical heterogeneity.] since the ice does not assort the material which it carries, as water does, the clay, sand, gravel and bowlders will not, by the action of the ice, be separated from one another. they are therefore not stratified. as left by the ice, these physically heterogeneous materials are confusedly commingled. the finer parts constitute a matrix in which the coarser are embedded. physical heterogeneity (plate xxxv), therefore, is another characteristic of glacial drift. it is not to be understood that the proportions of these various physical elements, clay, sand, gravel, and bowlders, are constant. locally any one of them may predominate over any or all the others to any extent. since lithological and physical heterogeneity are characteristics of glacial drift, they together afford a criterion which is often of service in distinguishing glacial drift from other surface formations. it follows that this double heterogeneity constitutes a feature which can be utilized in determining the former extension of existing glaciers, as well as the former existence of glaciers where glaciers do not now exist. another characteristic of glacial drift, and one which clearly distinguishes it from all other formations with which it might be confounded, is easily understood from its method of formation. if the ice in its motion holds down rock debris upon the rock surface over which it passes with such pressure as to polish and striate the bed-rock, the material carried will itself suffer wear comparable to that which it inflicts. thus the stones, large and small, of glacial drift, will be smoothed and striated. this sort of wear on the transported blocks of rock, is effected both by the bed-rock reacting on the bowlders transported over it, and by bowlders acting on one another in and under the ice. the wear of bowlders by bowlders is effected wherever adjacent ones are carried along at different rates. since the rate of motion of the ice is different in different parts of the glacier, the mutual abrasion of transported materials is a process constantly in operation. a large proportion of the transported stone and blocks of rock may thus eventually become striated. from the nature of the wear to which the stones are subjected when carried in the base of the ice, it is easy to understand that their shapes must be different from those of water-worn materials. the latter are rolled over and over, and thus lose all their angles and assume a more or less rounded form. the former, held more or less firmly in the ice, and pressed against the underlying rock or rock debris as they are carried slowly forward, have their faces planed and striated. the planation and striation of a stone need not be confined to its under surface. on either side or above it other stones, moving at different rates, are made to abrade it, so that its top and sides may be planed and scored. if the ice-carried stones shift their positions, as they may under various circumstances, new faces will be worn. the new face thus planed off may meet those developed at an earlier time at sharp angles, altogether unlike anything which water-wear is capable of producing. the stone thus acted upon shows a surface bounded by planes and more or less beveled, instead of a rounded surface such as water wear produces. we find, then, in the shape of the bowlders and smaller stones of the drift, and in the markings upon their surfaces, additional criteria for the identification of glacier drift (plate xxxvi). the characteristics of glacial drift, so far as concerns its constitution, may then be enumerated as, ( ) its lithological, and ( ) physical heterogeneity; ( ) the shapes, and ( ) the markings of the stones of the drift. in structure, the drift which is strictly glacial, is unstratified. in the broadest sense of the term, all deposits made by glacier ice are _moraines_. those made beneath the ice and back from its edge constitute the _ground moraine_, and are distinguished from the considerable marginal accumulations which, under certain conditions, are accumulated at or near the margin. these marginal accumulations are _terminal moraines_. associated with the moraines which are the deposits of the ice directly, there are considerable bodies of stratified gravel and sand, the structure of which shows that they were laid down by water. this is to be especially noted, since lack of stratification is popularly supposed to be the especial mark of the formations to which the ice gave rise. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxxvi. glaciated stones, showing both form and striæ. (matz.)] these deposits of stratified drift lie partly beyond the terminal moraine, and partly within it. they often sustain very complicated relations both to the ground and terminal moraines. the drift as a whole is therefore partly stratified and partly unstratified. structurally the two types are thoroughly distinct, but their relations are often most complex, both horizontally and vertically. a fuller consideration of these relations will be found on a later page. _the ground moraine._ the ground moraine constitutes the great body of the glacial drift. _bowlder clay_, a term descriptive of its constitution in some places, and _till_, are other terms often applied to the ground moraine. the ground moraine consists of all the drift which lodged beneath the ice during its advance, all that was deposited back from its edge while its margin was farthest south, and most of that which was deposited while the ice was retreating. from this mode of origin it is readily seen that the ground moraine should be essentially as widespread as the ice itself. locally, however, it failed of deposition. since it constitutes the larger part of the drift, the characteristics already enumerated as belonging to drift in general are the characteristics of the till. wherever obstacles to the progress of the ice lay in its path, there was a chance that these obstacles, rising somewhat into the lower part of the ice, would constitute barriers against which debris in the lower part of the ice would lodge. it might happen also that the ice, under a given set of conditions favoring erosion, would gather a greater load of rock-debris than could be transported under the changed conditions into which its advance brought it. in this case, some part of the load would be dropped and over-ridden. especially near the margin of the ice where its thickness was slight and diminishing, the ice must have found itself unable to carry forward the loads of debris which it had gathered farther back where its action was more vigorous. it will be readily seen that if not earlier deposited, all material gathered by the under surface of the ice would ultimately find itself at the edge of the glacier, for given time enough, ablation will waste all that part of the ice occupying the space between the original position of the debris, and the margin of the ice. under the thinned margin of the ice, therefore, considerable accumulations of drift must have been taking place while the ice was advancing. while the edge of the ice sheet was advancing into territory before uninvaded, the material accumulated beneath its edge at one time, found itself much farther from the margin at another and later time. under the more forcible ice action back from the margin, the earlier accumulations, made under the thin edge, were partially or wholly removed by the thicker ice of a later time, and carried down to or toward the new and more advanced margin. here they were deposited, to be in turn disturbed and transported still farther by the farther advance of the ice. since in its final retreat the margin of the ice must have stood at all points once covered by it, these submarginal accumulations of drift must have been made over the whole country once covered by the ice. the deposits of drift made beneath the marginal part of the ice during its retreat, would either cover the deposits made under the body of the ice at an earlier time, or be left alongside them. the constitution of the two phases of till, that deposited during the advance of the ice, and that deposited during its retreat, is essentially the same, and there is nothing in their relative positions to sharply differentiate them. they are classed together as _subglacial till_. subglacial till was under the pressure of the overlying ice. in keeping with these conditions of accumulation, the till often possesses a firmness suggestive of great compression. where its constitution is clayey it is often remarkably tough. where this is the case, the quality here referred to has given rise to the suggestive name "hard pan." where the constitution of the till is sandy, rather than clayey, this firmness and toughness are less developed, or may be altogether wanting, since sand cannot be compressed into coherent masses like clay. _constitution._--the till is composed of the more or less comminuted materials derived from the land across which the ice passed. the soil and all the loose materials which covered the rock entered into its composition. where the ice was thick and its action vigorous, it not only carried away the loose material which it found in its path, but, armed with this material, it abraded the underlying rock, wearing down its surface and detaching large and small blocks of rock from it. it follows that the constitution of the till at any point is dependent upon the nature of the soil and rock from which it was derived. if sandstone be the formation which has contributed most largely to the till, the matrix of the till will be sandy. where limestone instead of sandstone made the leading contribution to it, the till has a more earthy or clayey matrix. any sort of rock which may be very generally reduced to a fine state of division under the mechanical action of the ice, will give rise to clayey till. the nature and the number of the bowlders in the till, no less than the finer parts, depend on the character of the rock overridden. a hard and resistant rock, such as quartzite, will give rise to more bowlders in proportion to the total amount of material furnished to the ice, than will softer rock. shale or soft sandstone, possessing relatively slight resistance, will be much more completely crushed. they will, therefore, yield proportionately fewer bowlders than harder formations, and more of the finer constituents of till. the bowlders taken up by the ice as it advanced over one sort of rock and another, possessed different degrees of resistance. the softer ones were worn to smaller dimensions or crushed with relative ease and speed. bowlders of soft rock are, therefore, not commonly found in any abundance at great distances from their sources. the harder ones yielded less readily to abrasion, and were carried much farther before being destroyed, though even such must have suffered constant reduction in size during their subglacial journey. in general it is true that bowlders in the till, near their parent formations, are larger and less worn than those which have been transported great distances. the ice which covered this region had come a great distance and had passed over rock formations of many kinds. the till therefore contains elements derived from various formations; that is, it is lithologically heterogeneous. this heterogeneity cannot fail to attract the attention of one examining any of the many exposures of drift about baraboo at road gradings, or in the cuts along the railway. among the stones in the drift at these exposures are limestone, sandstone, quartzite, diabase, gabbro, gneiss, granite, schist, and porphyry, together with pieces of flint and chert. such an array may be found at any of the exposures within the immediate vicinity of devil's lake. to the north, and a few miles to the south of the baraboo ranges, the quartzite from these bluffs, and the porphyry from the point marked h in plate ii, are wanting, though other varieties of porphyry are present. the ice moved in a general west-southwest direction in this region, and the quartzite in the drift, so far as derived from the local formation, is therefore restricted to a narrow belt. the physical heterogeneity may be seen at all exposures, and is illustrated in plate xxxv. the larger stones of the drift are usually of some hard variety of rock. near the baraboo ranges, the local quartzite often predominates among the bowlders, and since such bowlders have not been carried far, they are often little worn. away from the ranges, the bowlders are generally of some crystalline rock, such as granite and diabase. bowlders of these sorts of rock are from a much more distant source, and are usually well worn. in general the till of any locality is made up largely of material derived from the formations close at hand. this fact seems to afford sufficient warrant for the conclusion that a considerable amount of deposition must have gone on beneath the ice during its movement, even back from its margin. to take a concrete illustration, it would seem that the drift of southeastern wisconsin should have had a larger contribution than it has of material derived from canadian territory, if material once taken up by the ice was all or chiefly carried down to its thinned edge before deposition. the fact that so little of the drift came from these distant sources would seem to prove that a large part of the material moved by the ice, is moved a relatively short distance only. the ice must be conceived of as continually depositing parts of its load, and parts which it has carried but a short distance, as it takes up new material from the territory newly invaded. in keeping with the character of till in general, that about devil's lake was derived largely from the sandstone, limestone and quartzite of the immediate vicinity, while a much smaller part of it came from more distant sources. this is especially noticeable in the fine material, which is made up mostly of the comminuted products of the local rock. _topography._--the topography of the ground moraine is in general the topography already described in considering the modification of preglacial topography effected by ice deposition. as left by the ice, its surface was undulating. the undulations did not take the form of hills and ridges with intervening valleys, but of swells and depressions standing in no orderly relationship to one another. undrained depressions are found in the ground moraine, but they are, as a rule, broader and shallower than the "kettles" common to terminal moraines. it is in the broad, shallow depressions of the ground moraine that many of the lakes and more of the marshes of southeastern wisconsin are located. the rolling, undulating topography characteristic of ground moraines is well shown about the city of baraboo and between that point and the lake, and at many less easily designated points about merrimac. in thickness the ground moraine reaches at least feet, though its average is much less--too little to obliterate the greater topographic features of the rock beneath. it is, however, responsible for many of the details of the surface. _terminal moraines._ the marginal portion of the ice sheet was more heavily loaded--certainly more heavily loaded relative to its thickness--than any other. toward its margin the thinned ice was constantly losing its transportive power, and at its edge this power was altogether gone. since the ice was continually bringing drift down to this position and leaving it there, the rate of drift accumulation must have been greater, on the average, beneath the edge of the ice than elsewhere. whenever, at any stage in its history, the edge of the ice remained essentially constant in position for a long period of time, the corresponding submarginal accumulation of drift was great, and when the ice melted, the former site of the stationary edge would be marked by a broad ridge or belt of drift, thicker than that on either side. such thickened belts of drift are _terminal moraines_. it will be seen that a terminal moraine does not necessarily mark the terminus of the ice at the time of its greatest advance, but rather its terminus at any time when its edge was stationary or nearly so. from the conditions of their development it will be seen that these submarginal moraines may be made up of materials identical with those which constitute the ground moraine, and such is often the case. but water arising from the melting of the ice, played a much more important role at its margin than farther back beneath it. one result of its greater activity may be seen in the greater coarseness which generally characterizes the material of the terminal moraine as compared with that of the adjacent ground moraine. this is partly because the water carried away such of the finer constituents as it was able to transport, leaving the coarser behind. further evidence of the great activity of water near the margin of the ice is to be seen in the relatively large amount of assorted and stratified sand and gravel associated with the terminal moraine. such materials as were carried on the ice were dropped at its edge when the ice which bore them melted from beneath. if the surface of the ice carried many bowlders, many would be dropped along the line of its edge wherever it remained stationary for any considerable period of time. a terminal moraine therefore embraces ( ) the thick belt of drift accumulated beneath the edge of the ice while it was stationary, or nearly so; and ( ) such debris as was carried on the surface of the ice and dumped at its margin. in general the latter is relatively unimportant. at various stages in its final retreat, the ice made more or less protracted halts. these halting places are marked by marginal moraines of greater or less size, depending on the duration of the stop, and the amount of load carried. a terminal moraine is not the sharp and continuous ridge we are wont to think it. it is a belt of thick drift, rather than a ridge, though it is often somewhat ridge-like. in width, it varies from a fraction of a mile to several miles. in the region under consideration it is rarely more than fifty feet high, and rarely less than a half mile wide, and a ridge of this height and width is not a conspicuous topographic feature in a region where the relief is so great as that of the devil's lake region. _topography of terminal moraines._--the most distinctive feature of a terminal moraine is not its ridge-like character, but its peculiar topography. in general, it is marked by depressions without outlets, associated with hillocks and short ridges comparable in dimensions to the depressions. both elevations and depressions are, as a rule, more abrupt than in the ground moraine. in the depressions there are many marshes, bogs, ponds and small lakes. the shapes and the abundance of round and roundish hills have locally given rise to such names as "the knobs," "short hills," etc. elsewhere the moraine has been named the "kettle range" from the number of kettle-like depressions in its surface. it is to be kept in mind that it is the association of the "knobs" and "kettles," rather than either feature alone, which is the distinctive mark of terminal moraine topography. [illustration: fig. .--sketch of terminal moraine topography, on the quartzite ridge east of devil's lake. (matz.)] the manner in which the topography of terminal moraines was developed is worthy of note. in the first place, the various parts of the ice margin carried unequal amounts of debris. this alone would have caused the moraine of any region to have been of unequal height and width at different points. in the second place, the margin of the ice, while maintaining the same _general_ position during the making of a moraine, was yet subject to many minor oscillations. it doubtless receded to some slight extent because of increased melting during the summer, to advance again during the winter. in its recession, the ice margin probably did not remain exactly parallel to its former position. if some parts receded more than others, the details of the line of its margin may have been much changed during a temporary retreat. when the ice again advanced, its margin may have again changed its form in some slight measure, so as to be parallel neither with its former advanced position, nor with its position after its temporary retreat. with each successive oscillation of the edge, the details of the margin may have altered, and at each stage the marginal deposits corresponded with the edge. there might even be considerable changes in the edge of the ice without any general recession or advance, as existing glaciers show. it was probably true of the margin of the american ice sheet, as of existing glaciers, that there were periods of years when the edge of the ice receded, followed by like periods when it remained stationary or nearly so, and these in turn followed by periods of advance. during any advance, the deposits made during the period of recession would be overridden and disturbed or destroyed. if the ice were to retreat and advance repeatedly during a considerable period of time, always within narrow limits, and if during this oscillation the details of its margin were frequently changing, the result would be a complex or "tangle" of minor morainic ridges of variable heights and widths. between and among the minor ridges there would be depressions of various sizes and shapes. thus, it is conceived, many of the peculiar hillocks and hollows which characterize terminal moraines may have arisen. some of the depressions probably arose in another way. when the edge of the ice retreated, considerable detached masses of ice might be left beyond the main body. this might be buried by gravel and sand washed out from the moraine. on melting, the former sites of such blocks of ice would be marked by "kettles." in the marginal accumulations of drift as first deposited, considerable quantities of ice were doubtless left. when this melted, the drift settled and the unequal settling may have given rise to some of the topographic irregularities of the drift. _the terminal moraine about devil's lake._--on the lower lands, the terminal moraine of the devil's lake region has the features characteristic of terminal moraines in general. it is a belt of thick drift varying in width from half a mile or less to three-quarters of a mile or more. its surface is marked by numerous hills and short ridges, with intervening depressions or "kettles." some of the depressions among the hills contain water, making ponds or marshes, though the rather loose texture of the drift of this region is not favorable to the retention of water. the moraine belt, as a whole, is higher than the land on either side. it is therefore somewhat ridge-like, and the small, short hills and ridges which mark its surface, are but constituent parts of the larger, broader ridge. approached from the west, that is from the driftless side, the moraine on the lower lands is a somewhat prominent topographic feature, often appearing as a ridge thirty, forty or even fifty feet in height. approached from the opposite direction, that is, from the ground moraine, it is notably less prominent, and its inner limit wherever located, is more or less arbitrary. [illustration: fig. .--cut through the terminal moraine just east of kirkland, partially diagrammatic.] a deep, fresh railway cut in the moraine southeast of devil's lake illustrates its complexity of structure, a complexity which is probably no greater than that at many other points where exposures are not seen. the section is represented in fig. . the stratified sand to the right retains even the ripple-marks which were developed when it was deposited. to the left, at the same level, there is a body of _till_ (unstratified drift), over which is a bed of stoneless and apparently structureless clay. in a depression just above the clay with till both to the right and left, is a body of loam which possesses the characteristics of normal loess. it also contains calcareous concretions, though no shells have been found. this occurrence of loess is the more noteworthy, since loess is rarely found in association with drift of the last glacial epoch.[ ] [ ] an account of loess in connection with the drift of the last glacial epoch is given in the _journal of geology_, vol. iv, pp. - . for a general account of loess, see sixth annual report of u.s. geological survey. _the moraine on the main quartzite range._--in tracing the moraine over the greater quartzite range, it is found to possess a unique feature in the form of a narrow but sharply defined ridge of drift, formed at the extreme margin of the ice at the time of its maximum advance. for fully eleven miles, with but one decided break, and two short stretches where its development is not strong, this unique marginal ridge separates the drift-covered country on the one hand, from the driftless area on the other. in its course the ridge lies now on slopes, and now on summits, but in both situations preserves its identity. where it rests on a plain, or nearly plain surface, its width at base varies from six to fifteen rods, and its average height is from twenty to thirty feet. its crest is narrow, often no more than a single rod. where it lies on a slope, it is asymmetrical in cross section (see fig. ), the shorter slope having a vertical range of ten to thirty-five feet, and its longer a range of forty to one hundred feet. this asymmetrical form persists throughout all that portion of the ridge which lies on an inclined surface, the slope of which does not correspond with the direction of the moraine. where it lies on a flat surface, or an inclined surface the slope of which corresponds in direction with the course of the ridge itself, its cross section is more nearly symmetrical (see fig. ). in all essential characteristics this marginal ridge corresponds with the _end-moräne_ of the germans. [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic cross-section of the marginal ridge as it occurs on the south slope of the devil's nose. the slope below, though glaciated, is nearly free from drift.] [illustration: fig. .--diagrammatic cross-section of the marginal ridge as it appears when its base is not a sloping surface.] for the sake of bringing out some of its especially significant features, the ridge may be traced in detail, commencing on the south side of the west range. where the moraine leaves the lowlands south of the devil's nose, and begins the ascent of the prominence, the marginal ridge first appears at about the -foot contour (f, plate xxxvii). though at first its development is not strong, few rods have been passed before its crest is fifteen to twenty feet above the driftless area immediately to the north (see fig. ) and from forty to one hundred feet above its base to the south, down the slope. in general the ridge becomes more distinct with increasing elevation, and except for two or three narrow post-glacial erosion breaks, is continuous to the very summit at the end of the nose (g). the ridge in fact constitutes the uppermost forty or forty-five feet of the crest of the nose, which is the highest point of the west range within the area shown on the map. throughout the whole of this course the marginal ridge lies on the south slope of the nose, and has the asymmetrical cross section shown in fig. . above (north of) the ridge at most points not a bowlder of drift occurs. so sharply is its outer (north) margin defined, that at many points it is possible to locate it within the space of less than a yard. at the crest of the nose (g) the marginal ridge, without a break, swings northward, and in less than a quarter of a mile turns again to the west. bearing to the north it presently reaches (at h) the edge of the precipitous bluff, bordering the great valley at the south end of the lake. between the two arms of the loop thus formed, the surface of the nose is so nearly level that it could have offered no notable opposition to the progress of the ice, and yet it failed to be covered by it. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxxvii. topographic map (contour interval feet) of a small area about devil's lake, taken from the baraboo sheet of the united states geological survey. each contour line connects points of the same elevation, and the figures upon them give the heights above sea level. where contour lines lie close together, they indicate steep slopes.] in the great valley between the nose and the east bluff, the marginal ridge does not appear. in the bottom of the valley the moraine takes on its normal form, and the slopes of the quartzite ridges on either hand are much too steep to allow any body of drift, or loose material of any sort, to lodge on them. ascending the east bluff a little east of the point where the drift ridge drops off the west bluff, the ridge is again found (at i) in characteristic development. for some distance it is located at the edge of the precipitous south face of the bluff. farther on it bears to the north, and soon crosses a col (j) in the ridge, building it up many feet above the level of the bed-rock. from this point eastward for about three miles the marginal ridge is clearly defined, the slopes about equal on either side, and the crest as nearly even as the topography of the underlying surface permits. the topographic relations in this part of the course are shown in fig. . at k, this marginal ridge attains its maximum elevation, , feet. at this great elevation, the ridge turns sharply to the northwest at an angle of more than °. following this direction for little more than half a mile, it turns to the west. at some points in this vicinity the ridge assumes the normal morainic habit, but this is true for short distances only. farther west, at l, it turns abruptly to the northeast and is sharply defined. it here loops about a narrow area less than sixty rods wide, and over half a mile in length, the sharpest loop in its whole course. the driftless tract enclosed by the arms of this loop is lower than the drift ridge on either hand. the ice on either side would need to have advanced no more than thirty rods to have covered the whole of it. from the minor loop just mentioned, the marginal ridge is continued westward, being well developed for about a mile and a half. at this point the moraine swings south to the north end of devil's lake, loses the unique marginal ridge which has characterized its outer edge across the quartzite range for so many miles, and assumes the topography normal to terminal moraines. at no other point in the united states, so far as known to the writers, is there so sharply marked a marginal ridge associated with the terminal moraine, for so long a distance. from plate ii it will be seen that the moraine as a whole makes a great loop to the eastward in crossing the quartzite range. from the detailed description just given of the course of the marginal ridge, it will be seen that it has three distinct loops; one on the devil's nose (west of g, plate xxxvii); one on the main ridge (west of k) and a minor one on the north side of the last (southwest of m). the first and third are but minor irregularities on the sides of the great loop, the head of which is at k. the significant fact in connection with these irregularities in the margin of the moraine is that each loop stands in a definite relation to a prominence. the meaning of this relation is at once patent. the great quartzite range was a barrier to the advance of the ice. acting as a wedge, it caused a re-entrant in the advancing margin of the glacier. the extent and position of the re-entrant is shown by the course of the moraine in plate ii. thus the great loop in the moraine, the head of which is at k, plate xxxvii, was caused by the quartzite range itself. the minor loops on the sides of the major are to be explained on the same principle. northeast of the minor loop on the north side of the larger one (m) there are two considerable hills, reaching an elevation of nearly , feet. though the ice advancing from the east-northeast overrode them, they must have acted like a wedge, to divide it into lobes. the ice which reached their summits had spent its energy in so doing, and was unable to move forward down the slope ahead, and the thicker bodies of ice which passed on either side of them, failed to unite in their lee (compare figs. and ). the application of the same principle to the loop on the devil's nose is evident. _constitution of the marginal ridge._--the material in the marginal ridge, as seen where erosion has exposed it, is till, abnormal, if at all, only in the large percentage of widely transported bowlders which it contains. this is especially true of the surface, where in some places per cent. of the large bowlders are of very distant origin, and that in spite of the fact that the ice which deposited them had just risen up over a steep slope of quartzite, which could easily have yielded abundant bowlders. in other places the proportion of foreign bowlders is small, no more than one in ten. in general, however, bowlders of distant origin predominate over those derived close at hand. _the slope of the upper surface of the ice at the margin._--the marginal ridge on the south slope of devil's nose leads to an inference of especial interest. its course lies along the south slope of the nose, from its summit on the east to its base on the west. throughout this course the ridge marks with exactness the position of the edge of the ice at the time of its maximum advance, and its crest must therefore represent the slope of the upper surface of the ice at its margin. the western end of the ridge (f, plate xxxvii) has an altitude of feet, and its eastern end (g) is just above the , -foot contour. the distance from the one point to the other is one and three-fourths miles, and the difference in elevation, feet. these figures show that the slope of the ice along the south face of this bluff was about feet per mile. this, so far as known, is the first determination of the slope of the edge of the continental ice sheet _at its extreme margin_. it is to be especially noted that these figures are for the extreme edge of the ice only. the angle of slope back from the edge was doubtless much less. _stratified drift._ while it is true that glacier ice does not distinctly stratify the deposits which it makes, it is still true that a very large part of the drift for which the ice of the glacial period was directly or indirectly responsible is stratified. that this should be so is not strange when it is remembered that most of the ice was ultimately converted into running water, just as the glaciers of today are. the relatively small portion which disappeared by evaporation was probably more than counterbalanced, at least near the margin of the ice, by the rain which fell upon it. it cannot be considered an exaggeration, therefore, to say that the total amount of water which operated on the drift, first and last, was hardly less than the total amount of the ice itself. the drift deposited by the marginal part of the ice was affected during its deposition, not only by the water which arose from the melting of the ice which did the depositing, but by much water which arose from the melting of the ice far back from the margin. the general mobility of the water, as contrasted with ice, allowed it to concentrate its activities along those lines which favored its motion, so that different portions of the drift were not affected equally by the water of the melting ice. all in all it will be seen that the water must have been a very important factor in the deposition of the drift, especially near the margin of the ice. but the ice sheet had a marginal belt throughout its whole history, and water must have been active and effective along this belt, not only during the decadence of the ice sheet, but during its growth as well. it is further to be noted that any region of drift stood good chance of being operated upon by the water after the ice had departed from it, so that in regions over which topography directed drainage after the withdrawal of the ice, the water had the last chance at the drift, and modified it in such a way and to such an extent as circumstances permitted. _its origin._--there are various ways in which stratified drift may arise in connection with glacier deposits. it may come into existence by the operation of water alone; or by the co-operation of ice and water. where water alone was immediately responsible for the deposition of stratified drift, the water concerned may have owed its origin to the melting ice, or it may have existed independently of the ice in the form of lakes. when the source of the water was the melting ice, the water may have been running, when it was actively concerned in the deposition of stratified drift; or it may have been standing (glacial lakes and ponds), when it was passively concerned. when ice co-operated with water in the development of stratified drift the ice was generally a passive partner. _glacial drainage._--the body of an ice sheet during any glacial period is probably melting more or less at some horizons all the time, and at all horizons some of the time. most of the water which is produced at the surface during the summer sinks beneath it. some of it may congeal before it sinks far, but much of it reaches the bottom of the ice without refreezing. it is probable that melting is much more nearly continuous in the body of a moving ice sheet than at its surface, and that some of the water thus produced sinks to the bottom of the ice without refreezing. at the base of the ice, so long as it is in movement, there is doubtless more or less melting, due both to friction and to the heat received by conduction from the earth below. thus in the ice and under the ice there must have been more or less water in motion throughout essentially all the history of an ice sheet. if it be safe to base conclusions on the phenomena of existing glaciers, it may be assumed that the waters beneath the ice, and to a less extent the waters in the ice, organized themselves to a greater or less degree into streams. for longer or shorter distances these streams flowed in the ice or beneath it. ultimately they escaped from its edge. the subglacial streams doubtless flowed, in part, in the valleys which affected the land surface beneath the ice, but they were probably not all in such positions. the courses of well-defined subglacial streams were tunnels. the bases of the tunnels were of rock or drift, while the sides and tops were of ice. it will be seen, therefore, that their courses need not have corresponded with the courses of the valleys beneath the ice. they may sometimes have followed lines more or less independent of topography, much as water may be forced over elevations in closed tubes. it is not to be inferred, however, that the subglacial streams were altogether independent of the sub-ice topography. the tunnels in which the water ran probably had too many leaks to allow the water to be forced up over great elevations. this, at least, must have been the case where the ice was thin or affected by crevasses. under such circumstances the topography of the land surface must have been the controlling element in determining the course of the subglacial drainage. when the streams issued from beneath the ice the conditions of flow were more or less radically changed, and from their point of issue they followed the usual laws governing river flow. if the streams entered static water as they issued from the ice, and this was true where the ice edge reached the sea or a lake, the static water modified the results which the flowing waters would otherwise have produced. _stages in the history of an ice sheet._--the history of an ice sheet which no longer exists involves at least two distinct stages. these are ( ) the period of growth, and ( ) the period of decadence. if the latter does not begin as soon as the former is complete, an intervening stage, representing the period of maximum ice extension, must be recognized. in the case of the ice sheets of the glacial period, each of these stages was probably more or less complex. the general period of growth of each ice sheet is believed to have been marked by temporary, but by more or less extensive intervals of decadence, while during the general period of decadence, it is probable that the ice was subject to temporary, but to more or less extensive intervals of recrudescence. for the sake of simplicity, the effects of these oscillations of the edge of the ice will be neglected at the outset, and the work of the water accompanying the two or three principal stages of an ice sheet's history will be outlined as if interruptions in the advance and in the retreat, respectively, had not occurred. as they now exist, the deposits of stratified drift made at the edge of the ice or beyond it during the period of its maximum extension present the simplest, and at the same time most sharply defined phenomena, and are therefore considered first. _deposits made by extraglacial waters during the maximum extension of the ice._ the deposits made by the water at the time of the maximum extension of the ice and during its final retreat, were never disturbed by subsequent glacier action. so far as not destroyed by subsequent erosion, they still retain the form and structure which they had at the outset. such drift deposits, because they lie at the surface, and because they are more or less distinct topographically as well as structurally, are better known than the stratified drift of other stages of an ice sheet's history. of stratified drift made during the maximum extension of the ice, and during its final retreat, there are several types. _a. at the edge of ice, on land._--if the subglacial streams flowed under "head," the pressure was relieved when they escaped from the ice. with this relief, there was diminution of velocity. with the diminution of velocity, deposition of load would be likely to take place. since these changes would be likely to occur at the immediate edge of the ice, one class of stratified drift deposits would be made in this position, in immediate contact with the edge of the ice, and their form would be influenced by it. at the stationary margin of an ice sheet, therefore, at the time of its maximum advance, ice and water must have co-operated to bring into existence considerable quantities of stratified drift. the edge of the ice was probably ragged, as the ends of glaciers are today, and as the waters issued from beneath it, they must frequently have left considerable quantities of such debris as they were carrying, against its irregular margin, and in its re-entrant angles and marginal crevasses. when the ice against which this debris was first lodged melted, the marginal accumulations of gravel and sand often assumed the form of kames. a typical kame is a hill, hillock, or less commonly a short ridge of stratified drift; but several or many are often associated, giving rise to groups and areas of _kames_. kames are often associated with terminal moraines, a relation which emphasizes the fact of their marginal origin. so far as the superficial streams which flowed to the edge of the ice carried debris, this was subject to deposition as the streams descended from the ice. such drift would tend to increase the body of marginal stratified drift from subglacial sources. marginal accumulations of stratified drift, made by the co-operation of running water and ice, must have had their most extensive development, other things being equal, where the margin of the ice was longest in one position, and where the streams were heavily loaded. the deposits made by water at the edge of the ice differ from those of the next class--made beyond the edge of the ice--in that they were influenced in their disposition and present topography, by the presence of ice. in the devil's lake region isolated and well-defined kames are not of common occurrence. there are, however, at many points hills which have something of a kame-like character. there is such a hill a mile southeast of the court house at baraboo, at the point marked p, plate xxxvii. in this hill there are good exposures which show its structure. there are many hillocks of a general kame-like habit associated with the terminal moraine south of the main quartzite range, and north of the wisconsin river. many of them occur somewhat within the terminal moraine a few miles northwest of merrimac. _b. beyond the edge of the ice, on land._--as the waters escaping from the ice flowed farther, deposits of stratified drift were made quite beyond the edge of the ice. the forms assumed by such deposits are various, and depended on various conditions. where the waters issuing from the edge of the ice found themselves concentrated in valleys, and where they possessed sufficient load, and not too great velocity, they aggraded the valleys through which they flowed, developing fluvial plains of gravel and sand, which often extended far beyond the ice. such fluvial plains of gravel and sand constitute the _valley trains_ which extend beyond the unstratified glacial drift in many of the valleys of the united states. they are found especially in the valleys leading out from the stouter terminal moraines of late glacial age. from these moraines, the more extensive valley trains take their origin, thus emphasizing the fact that they are deposits made by water beyond a stationary ice margin. valley trains have all the characteristics of alluvial plains built by rapid waters carrying heavy loads of detritus. now and then their surfaces present slight variations from planeness, but they are minor. like all plains of similar origin they decline gradually, and with diminishing gradient, down stream. they are of coarser material near their sources, and of finer material farther away. valley trains constitute a distinct topographic as well as genetic type. a perfect example of a valley train does not occur within the region here discussed. there is such a train starting at the moraine where it crosses the wisconsin river above prairie du sac, and extending down that valley to the mississippi, but at its head this valley train is wide and has the appearance of an overwash plain, rather than a valley train. farther from the moraine, however, it narrows, and assumes the normal characteristics of a valley train. it is the gravel and sand of this formation which underlies sauk prairie, and its topographic continuation to the westward. where the subglacial streams did not follow subglacial valleys, they did not always find valleys when they issued from the ice. under such circumstances, each heavily loaded stream coming out from beneath the ice must have tended to develop a plain of stratified material near its point of issue--a sort of alluvial fan. where several such streams came out from beneath the ice near one another, their several plains, or fans, were likely to become continuous by lateral growth. such border plains of stratified drift differ from valley trains particularly ( ) in being much less elongate in the direction of drainage; ( ) in being much more extended parallel to the margin of the ice; and ( ) in not being confined to valleys. such plains stood an especially good chance of development where the edge of the ice remained constant for a considerable period of time, for it was under such conditions that the issuing waters had opportunity to do much work. thus arose the type of stratified drift variously known as _overwash plains_, _outwash plains_, _morainic plains_, and _morainic aprons_. these plains sometimes skirt the moraine for many miles at a stretch. overwash plains may sometimes depart from planeness by taking on some measure of undulation, of the sag and swell (kame) type, especially near their moraine edges. the same is often true of the heads of valley trains. the heads of valley trains and the inner edges of overwash plains, it is to be noted, occupy the general position in which kames are likely to be formed, and the undulations which often affect these parts of the trains and plains, respectively, are probably to be attributed to the influence of the ice itself. valley trains and overwash plains, therefore, at their upper ends and edges respectively, may take on some of the features of kames. indeed, either may head in a kame area. good examples of overwash or outwash plains may be seen at various points in the vicinity of baraboo. the plain west of the moraine just south of the main quartzite ridge has been referred to under valley trains. in sauk prairie, however, its characteristics are those of an outwash plain, rather than those of a valley train. [illustration: fig. .--the morainic or outwash plain bordering the terminal moraine. the figure is diagrammatic, but represents, in cross section, the normal relation as seen south of the quartzite range at the east edge of sauk prairie, north of the baraboo river and at some points between the south range and the baraboo.] a good example of an outwash plain occurs southwest of baraboo, flanking the moraine on the west (fig. ). seen from the west, the moraine just north of the south quartzite range stands up as a conspicuous ridge twenty to forty feet above the morainic plain which abuts against it. traced northward, the edge of the outwash plain, as it abuts against the moraine, becomes higher, and in section , township n., range e., the moraine edge of the plain reaches the crest of the moraine (fig. ). from this point north to the baraboo river the moraine scarcely rises above the edge of the outwash beyond. [illustration: fig. .--the outwash plain is built up to the crest of the moraine. the figure is diagrammatic, but this relation is seen at the point marked w, plate ii.] north of the baraboo river the moraine is again distinct and the overwash plain to the west well developed much of the way from the baraboo to kilbourn city. a portion of it is known as webster's prairie. locally, the outwash plains of this region have been much dissected by erosion since their deposition, and are now affected by many small valleys. in composition these plains are nearly everywhere gravel and sand, the coarser material being nearer the moraine. the loose material is in places covered by a layer of loam several feet deep, which greatly improves the character of the soil. this is especially true of sauk prairie, one of the richest agricultural tracts in the state. when the waters issuing from the edge of the ice were sluggish, whether they were in valleys or not, the materials which they carried and deposited were fine instead of coarse, giving rise to deposits of silt, or clay, instead of sand or gravel. at many points near the edge of the ice during its maximum stage of advance, there probably issued small quantities of water not in the form of well-defined streams, bearing small quantities of detritus. these small quantities of water, with their correspondingly small loads, were unable to develop considerable plains of stratified drift, but produced small patches instead. such patches have received no special designation. in the deposition of stratified drift beyond the edge of the ice, the latter was concerned only in so far as its activity helped to supply the water with the necessary materials. _c. deposits at and beyond the edge of the ice in standing water._--the waters which issued from the edge of the ice sometimes met a different fate. the ice in its advance often moved up river valleys. when at the time of its maximum extension, it filled the lower part of a valley, leaving the upper part free, drainage through the valley stood good chance of being blocked. where this happened a marginal valley lake was formed. such a lake was formed in the valley of the baraboo when the edge of the ice lay where the moraine now is (plate ii). the waters which were held back by the ice dam, reinforced by the drainage from the ice itself, soon developed a lake above the point of obstruction. this extinct lake may be named baraboo lake. in this lake deposits of laminated clay were made. they are now exposed in the brick yards west of baraboo, and in occasional gullies and road cuts in the flat bordering the river. at the point marked s (plate xxxvii) there was, in glacial times, a small lake having an origin somewhat different from that of baraboo lake. the former site of the lake is now marked by a notable flat. excavations in the flat show that it is made up of stratified clay, silt, sand and gravel, to the depth of many feet,--locally more than sixty. these lacustrine deposits are well exposed in the road cuts near the northwest corner of the flat, and in washes at some other points. plate xxxviii shows some of the silt and clay, the laminæ of which are much distorted. _deltas_ must have been formed where well-defined streams entered the lakes, and _subaqueous overwash plains_ where deltas became continuous by lateral growth. the accumulation of stratified drift along the ice-ward shores of such lakes must have been rapid, because of the abundant supply of detritus. these materials were probably shifted about more or less by waves and shore currents, and some of them may have been widely distributed. out from the borders of such lakes, fine silts and clays must have been in process of deposition, at the same time that the coarse materials were being laid down nearer shore. [illustration: wisconsin geol. and nat. hist. survey. bulletin no. v., pl. xxxviii. distorted laminae of silt and clay.] good examples of deltas and subaqueous overwash plains do not appear to exist in the region, although conditions for their development seem to have been present. thus in the lake which occupied the valley of the baraboo, conditions would seem to have been ideal for the development of such features; that is, the overwash plains previously described should, theoretically, have been subaqueous overwash plains; but if this be their character, their distinctive marks have been destroyed by subsequent erosion. during the maximum extension of an ice sheet, therefore, there was chance for the development, at its edge or beyond it, of the following types of stratified drift: ( ) kames and kame belts, at the edge of the ice; ( ) fluvial plains or valley trains, in virtual contact with the ice at their heads; ( ) border plains or overwash plains, in virtual contact with the ice at their upper edges; ( ) ill-defined patches of stratified drift, coarse or fine near the ice; ( ) subaqueous overwash plains and deltas, formed either in the sea or lakes at or near the edge of the ice; ( ) lacustrine and marine deposits of other sorts, the materials for which were furnished by the waters arising from the ice. so far as this region is concerned, all the deposits made in standing water were made in lakes. _deposits made by extraglacial waters during the retreat of the ice._ during the retreat of any ice sheet, disregarding oscillations of its edge, its margin withdrew step by step from the position of extreme advance to its center. when the process of dissolution was complete, each portion of the territory once covered by the ice, had at some stage in the dissolution, found itself in a marginal position. at all stages in its retreat the waters issuing from the edge of the ice were working in the manner already outlined in the preceding paragraphs. two points of difference only need be especially noted. in the first place the deposits made by waters issuing from the retreating ice were laid down on territory which the ice had occupied, and their subjacent stratum was often glacial drift. so far as this was the case, the stratified drift was super-morainic, not extra-morainic. in the second place the edge of the ice in retreat did not give rise to such sharply marked formations as the edge of the ice which was stationary. the processes which had given rise to valley trains, overwash plains, kames, etc., while the ice edge was stationary, were still in operation, but the line or zone of their activity (the edge of the ice) was continually retreating, so that the foregoing types, more or less dependent on a stationary edge, were rarely well developed. as the ice withdrew, therefore, it allowed to be spread over the surface it had earlier occupied, many incipient valley trains, overwash plains, and kames, and a multitude of ill-defined patches of stratified drift, thick and thin, coarse and fine. wherever the ice halted in its retreat, these various types stood chance of better development. such deposits did not cover all the surface discovered by the ice in its retreat, since the issuing waters, thanks to their great mobility, concentrated their activities along those lines which favored their motion. nevertheless the aggregate area of the deposits made by water outside the ice as it retreated, was great. it is to be noted that it was not streams alone which were operative as the ice retreated. as its edge withdrew, lakes and ponds were continually being drained, as their outlets, hitherto choked by the ice, were opened, while others were coming into existence as the depressions in the surface just freed from ice, filled with water. lacustrine deposits at the edge of the ice during its retreat were in all essential respects identical with those made in similar situations during its maximum extension. disregarding oscillations of the ice edge at these stages, the deposits made by extraglacial waters during the maximum extension of an ice sheet, and during its retreat, were always left at the surface, so far as the work of that ice sheet was concerned. the stratified drift laid down by extraglacial waters in these stages of the last ice sheet which affected any region of our continent still remain at the surface in much the condition in which they were deposited, except for the erosion they have since suffered. it is because of their position at the surface that the deposits referable to these stages of the last ice sheet of any given region have received most attention and are therefore most familiar. _deposits made by extraglacial waters during the advance of the ice._ during the advance of an ice sheet, if its edge forged steadily forward, the waters issuing from it, and flowing beyond, were effecting similar results. they were starting valley trains, overwash plains, kames, and small ill-defined patches of stratified drift which the ice did not allow them to complete before pushing over them, thus moving forward the zone of activity of extraglacial waters. unlike the deposits made by the waters of the retreating ice, those made by the waters of the advancing stage were laid down on territory which had not been glaciated, or at least not by the ice sheet concerned in their deposition. if the ice halted in its advance, there was at such time and place opportunity for the better development of extraglacial stratified drift. lakes as well as streams were concerned in the making of stratified beds of drift, during the advance of the ice. marginal lakes were obliterated by having their basins filled with the advancing ice, which displaced the water. but new ones were formed, on the whole, as rapidly as their predecessors became extinct, so that lacustrine deposits were making at intervals along the margin of the advancing ice. deposits made in advance of a growing ice sheet, by waters issuing from it, were subsequently overridden by the ice, to the limit of its advance, and in the process, suffered destruction, modification, or burial, in whole or in part, so that now they rarely appear at the surface. _deposits made by subglacial streams._ before their issuance from beneath the ice, subglacial waters were not idle. their activity was sometimes erosive, and at such times stratified deposits were not made. but where the sub-glacial streams found themselves overloaded, as seems frequently to have been the case, they made deposits along their lines of flow. where such waters were not confined to definite channels, their deposits probably took on the form of irregular patches of silt, sand, or gravel; but where depositing streams were confined to definite channels, their deposits were correspondingly concentrated. when subglacial streams were confined to definite channels, the same may have been constant in position, or may have shifted more or less from side to side. where the latter happened there was a tendency to the development of a belt or strip of stratified drift having a width equal to the extent of the lateral migrations of the under-ice stream. where the channel of the subglacial stream remained fixed in position, the deposition was more concentrated, and the bed was built up. if the stream held its course for a long period of time, the measure of building may have been considerable. in so far as these channel deposits were made near the edge of the ice, during the time of its maximum extension or retreat, they were likely to remain undisturbed during its melting. the aggraded channels then came to stand out as ridges. these ridges of gravel and sand are known as osars or eskers. it is not to be inferred that eskers never originated in other ways, but it seems clear that this is one method, and probably the principal one, by which they came into existence. eskers early attracted attention, partly because they are relatively rare, and partly because they are often rather striking topographic features. the essential conditions, therefore, for their formations, so far as they are the product of subglacial drainage, are ( ) the confining of the subglacial streams to definite channels; and ( ) a sufficient supply of detritus. one esker only has been found in the region under consideration. it is located at the point marked j, plate ii, seven and one-half miles northeast of merrimac and one and one-half miles south of alloa (g, plate ii). the esker is fully a quarter of a mile long, about thirty feet high, and four rods wide at its base. subglacial deposits of stratified drift were sometimes made on unstratified drift (till) already deposited by the ice before the location of the stream, and sometimes on the rock surfaces on which no covering of glacier drift had been spread. it is to be kept in mind that subglacial drainage was operative during the advance of an ice sheet, during its maximum extension, and during its retreat, and that during all these stages it was effecting its appropriate results. it will be readily seen, however, that all deposits made by subglacial waters, were subject to modification or destruction or burial, through the agency of the ice, and that those made during the advance of the ice were less likely to escape than those made during its maximum extension or retreat. relations of stratified to unstratified drift. when it is remembered that extraglacial and subglacial waters were active at all stages of an ice sheet's history, giving rise, or tending to give rise to all the phases of stratified drift enumerated above; when it is remembered that the ice of several epochs affected much of the drift-covered country; and when it is remembered further that the edge of the ice both during advance and retreat was subject to oscillation, and that each advance was likely to bury the stratified drift last deposited, beneath unstratified, it will be seen that the stratified drift and the unstratified had abundant opportunity to be associated in all relationships and in all degrees of intimacy, and that the relations of the one class of drift to the other may come to be very complex. as a result of edge oscillation, it is evident that stratified drift may alternate with unstratified many times in a formation of drift deposited during a single ice epoch, and that two beds of till, separated by a bed of stratified drift, do not necessarily represent two distinct glacial epochs. the extent of individual beds of stratified drift, either beneath the till or inter-bedded with it, may not be great, though their aggregate area and their aggregate volume is very considerable. it is to be borne in mind that the ice, in many places, doubtless destroyed all the stratified drift deposited in advance on the territory which it occupied later, and that in others it may have left only patches of once extensive sheets. this may help to explain why it so frequently happens that a section of drift at one point shows many layers of stratified drift, while another section close by, of equal depth, and in similar relationships, shows no stratified material whatsoever. such deposits as were made by superglacial streams during the advance of the ice must likewise have been delivered on the land surface, but would have been subsequently destroyed or buried, becoming in the latter case, submorainic. this would be likely to be the fate of all such superglacial gravels as reached the edge of the ice up to the time of its maximum advance. streams descending from the surface of the ice into crevasses also must have carried down sand and gravel where such materials existed on the ice. these deposits may have been made on the rock which underlies the drift, or they may have been made on stratified or unstratified drift already deposited. in either case they were liable to be covered by till, thus reaching an inter-till or sub-till position. englacial streams probably do little depositing, but it is altogether conceivable that they might accumulate such trivial pockets of sand and gravel as are found not infrequently in the midst of till. the inter-till position would be the result of subsequent burial after the stratified material reached a resting place. complexity of relations.--from the foregoing it becomes clear that there are diverse ways by which stratified drift, arising in connection with an ice sheet, may come to be interbedded with till, when due recognition is made of all the halts and oscillations to which the edge of a continental glacier may have been subject during both its advance and retreat. classification of stratified drift on the basis of position. in general the conditions and relations which theoretically should prevail are those which are actually found. on the basis of position stratified drift deposits may be classified as follows: . extraglacial deposits, made by the waters of any glacial epoch if they flowed and deposited beyond the farthest limit of the ice. . supermorainic deposits, made chiefly during the final retreat of the ice from the locality where they occur, but sometimes by extraglacial streams or lakes of a much later time. locally too, stratified deposits of an early stage of a glacial epoch, lying on till, may have failed to be buried by the subsequent passage of the ice over them, and so remain at the surface. in origin, supermorainic deposits were for the most part extraglacial (including marginal), so far as the ice sheet calling them into existence was concerned. less commonly they were subglacial, and failed to be covered, and less commonly still superglacial. . the submorainic (basal) deposits were made chiefly by extraglacial waters in advance of the first ice which affected the region where they occur. they were subsequently overridden by the ice and buried by its deposits. submorainic deposits, however, may have arisen in other ways. subglacial waters may have made deposits of stratified drift on surfaces which had been covered by ice, but not by till, and such deposits may have been subsequently buried. the retreat of an ice sheet may have left rock surfaces free from till covering, on which the marginal waters of the ice may have made deposits of stratified drift. these may have been subsequently covered by till during a re-advance of the ice in the same epoch or in a succeeding one. still again, the till left by one ice sheet may have been exposed to erosion to such an extent as to have been completely worn away before the next ice advance, so that stratified deposits connected with a second or later advance may have been made on a driftless surface, and subsequently buried. . intermorainic stratified drift may have originated at the outset in all the ways in which supermorainic drift may originate. it may have become intermorainic by being buried in any one of the various ways in which the stratified drift may become submorainic. changes in drainage effected by the ice. _while the ice was on._ as the continental ice sheet invaded a region, the valleys were filled and drainage was thereby seriously disturbed. different streams were affected in different ways. where the entire basin of a stream was covered by ice, the streams of that basin were, for the time being, obliterated. where the valley of a stream was partially filled with ice, the valley depression was only partially obliterated, and the remaining portion became the scene of various activities. where the ice covered the lower course of a stream but not the upper, the ice blocked the drainage, giving rise to a lake. where the ice covered the upper course of a stream, but not its lower, the lower portion was flooded, and though the river held its position, it assumed a new phase of activity. streams issuing from the ice usually carry great quantities of gravel and sand, and make deposits along their lower courses. long continued glacial drainage usually results in a large measure of aggradation. this was true of the streams of the glacial period. where a stream flowed parallel or approximately parallel to the edge of the advancing ice it was sometimes shifted in the direction in which the ice was moving, keeping parallel to the front of the ice. all of these classes of changes took place in this region. _wisconsin lake._--reference has already been made to certain lakes which existed in the region when the ice was there. the largest of these lakes was that which resulted from the blocking of the wisconsin river. the ice crossed its present course at kilbourn city, and its edge lay to the west of the river from that point to prairie du sac (see plate i). the waters from the area now draining into the wisconsin must either have found an avenue of escape beneath the ice, or have accumulated in a lake west of the edge of the ice. there is reason to believe that the latter was what happened, and that a great lake covered much of the low land west of the wisconsin river above and below kilbourn city. the extensive gravel beds on the north flank of the quartzite bluff at necedah, and the water-worn pebbles of local origin on the slope of petenwell peak (plate xxxii), as well as the gravels at other points, are presumably the work of that lake. the waters in this lake, as in that in the baraboo valley, probably rose until the lowest point in the rim of the basin was reached, and there they had their outlet. the position of this outlet has not been definitely determined, but it has been thought to be over the divide of the black river.[ ] it is possible, so far as now known, that this lake was connected with that of the baraboo valley. until topographic maps of this region are made, the connections will not be easily determined. [ ] chamberlin: geology of wisconsin, vol. . even after the ice had retreated past the wisconsin, opening up the present line of drainage, the lakes did not disappear at once, for the ice had left considerable deposits of drift in the wisconsin valley. thus at f, plates ii and xxxvii, and perhaps at other points, the wisconsin has made cuts of considerable depth in the drift. were these cuts filled, as they must have been when the ice melted, the drainage would be ponded, the waters standing at the level of the dam. this drift obstruction at f would therefore have prolonged the history of the lake which had come into existence when the ice blocked the drainage of the wisconsin. as the drift of the valley was removed the level of the lake sank and finally disappeared. _baraboo lake._--another lake which existed in this region when the ice was here, occupied the valley of the baraboo and its tributaries when the ice blocked the valley at baraboo. this lake occupied not only the valley of the baraboo, but extended up the lower course of every tributary, presumably rising until it found the lowest point in the rim of the drainage basin. the location of this point, and therefore the height of the lake when at its maximum, are not certainly known, though meager data on this point have been collected. at a point three miles southeast of ablemans on the surface of a sandstone slope, water-worn gravel occurs, the pebbles of which were derived from the local rock. on the slope below the gravel, the surface is covered with loam which has a suggestion of stratification, while above it, the soil and subsoil appear to be the product of local rock decomposition. this water-worn gravel of local origin on a steep slope facing the valley, probably represents the work of the waves of this lake, perhaps when it stood at its maximum height. this gravel is about feet (aneroid measurement) above the baraboo river to the north. further evidence of a shore line has been found at the point marked t, plate ii. at this place water-worn gravel of the local rock occurs in much the same relationship as that already mentioned, and at the same elevation above the baraboo river. at a point two and one-half miles southwest of ablemans there is local water-worn gravel, with which is mingled glacial material (pieces of porphyry and diabase) which could have reached this point only by being carried thither by floating ice from the glacier. the level of this mixed local and glacial material is (according to aneroid measurement) approximately the same as that of the other localities. when the ice melted, an outlet was opened _via_ the lower narrows, and the water of the lake drained off to the wisconsin by this route. had the ice left no drift, the lake would have been promptly drained when the ice melted; but the lake did not entirely disappear immediately after the ice retreated, for the drift which the ice left obstructed drainage to the east. the moraine, however, was not so high as the outlet of the lake while the ice was on, so that, as the ice retreated, the water flowed over the moraine to the east, and drew down the level of the lake to the level of the lowest point in the moraine. the postglacial cut through the moraine is about ninety feet deep. besides being obstructed where crossed by the terminal moraine, the valley of the baraboo was clogged to a less extent by drift deposits between the moraine and the lower narrows. at one or two places near the city of baraboo, such obstructions, now removed, appear to have existed. just above the lower narrows (c, plate xxxvii) there is positive evidence that the valley was choked with drift. here in subsequent time, the river has cut through the drift-filling of the preglacial valley, developing a passage about twenty rods wide and thirty-five feet deep. if this passage were filled with drift, reproducing the surface left by the ice, the broad valley above it would be flooded, producing a shallow lake. the retreat of the ice therefore left two well defined drift dams in the valley, one low one just above the lower narrows, and a higher one, the moraine dam, just west of baraboo. disregarding the influence of the ice, and considering the baraboo valley only, these two dams would have given rise to two lakes, the upper one behind the higher dam being deeper and broader, and covering a much larger area; the lower one behind the lower dam, being both small and shallow. up to the time that the ice retreated past the lower narrows, the waters of the upper and lower lakes were united, held up to a common level by the ice which blocked this pass. after the ice retreated past the lower narrows, the level of the baraboo lake did not sink promptly, for not until the ice had retreated past the site of the wisconsin was the present drainage established. meantime the waters of the baraboo lake joined those of wisconsin lake through the lower narrows. if the lakes had been before connected at some point farther west, this connection through the narrows would not have changed the level of either. if they were not before connected, and if the wisconsin lake was lower than the baraboo, this connection would have drawn down the level of the latter. since the drainage from the baraboo went to the wisconsin, the baraboo lake was not at first lowered below the level of the highest obstruction in the valley of the wisconsin even after the ice had retreated beyond that stream. as the drift obstructions of the wisconsin valley were lowered, the levels of all the lakes above were correspondingly brought down. when the level of the waters in these lakes was brought down to the level of the moraine dam above baraboo, the one baraboo lake of earlier times became two. the level of the upper of these two lakes was determined by the moraine above baraboo, that of the lower by the highest obstruction below the moraine in either the baraboo or wisconsin valley. the drift obstructions in the baraboo valley were probably removed about as fast as those in the wisconsin, and since the obstructions were of drift, and the streams strong, the removal of the dams was probably rapid. both the upper and lower baraboo lakes, as well as the wisconsin, had probably been reduced to small proportions, if not been completely drained, before the glacial period was at an end. _devil's lake in glacial times._--while the ice edge was stationary in its position of maximum advance, its position on the north side of the main quartzite range was just north of devil's lake (plate xxxvii). the high ridge of drift a few rods north of the shore is a well defined moraine, and is here more clearly marked than farther east or west, because it stands between lower lands on either side, instead of being banked against the quartzite ridge. north of the lake it rises about feet above the water. when the ice edge lay in this position on the north side of the range, its front between the east bluff and the devil's nose lay a half mile or so from the south end of the lake. in this position also there is a well defined moraine. while the ice was at its maximum stand, it rose above these moraine ridges at either end of the lake. between the ice at these two points there was then a notable basin, comparable to that of the present lake except that the barriers to the north and southeast were higher than now. the melting of the ice supplied abundant water, and the lake rose above its present level. the height which it attained is not known, but it is known to have risen at least feet above its present level. this is indicated by the presence of a few drift bowlders on the west bluff of the lake at this height. they represent the work of a berg or bergs which at some stage floated out into the lake with bowlders attached. bowlders dropped by bergs might be dropped at any level lower than the highest stand of the lake. _other lakes._--another glacial lake on the east quartzite bluff has already been referred to. like the devil's lake in glacial time, its basin was an enclosure between the ice on the one hand, and the quartzite ridge on the other. the location of this lake is shown on plate xxxvii (s). here the edge of the ice, as shown by the position of the moraine, was affected by a re-entrant curve, the two ends of which rested against the quartzite ridge. between the ice on the one hand and the quartzite ridge on the other, a small lake was formed. its position is marked by a notable flat. with the exception of the north side, and a narrow opening at the northwest corner, the flat is surrounded by high lands. when the ice occupied the region, its edge held the position shown by the line marking the limit of its advance, and constituted an ice barrier to the north.[ ] the area of the flat was, therefore, almost shut in, the only outlet being a narrow one at t, plate xxxvii. if the filling of stratified drift which underlies the flat were removed, the bottom of the area would be much lower than at present, and much lower than the outlet at t. it is therefore evident that when the ice had taken its position along the north side of the flat, an enclosed basin must have existed, properly situated for receiving and holding water. since this lake had but a short life and became extinct before the ice retreated, its history is here given. [ ] the moraine line on the map represents the crest of the marginal ridge rather than its outer limit, which is slightly nearer the lake margin. stratified drift of the nature of overwash also intervenes at points between the moraine and the lake border. at first the lake had no outlet and the water rose to the level of the lowest point (t) in the rim of the basin, and thence overflowed to the west. meanwhile the sediments borne in by the glacial drainage were being deposited in the lake in the form of a subaqueous overwash plain, the coarser parts being left near the shore, while the finer were carried further out. continued drainage from the ice continued to bring sediment into the lake, and the subaqueous overwash plain extended its delta-like front farther and farther into the lake, until its basin was completely filled. with the filling of the basin the lake became extinct. the later drainage from the ice followed the line of the outlet, the level of which corresponds with the level of the filled lake basin. this little extinct lake is of interest as an example of a glacial lake which became extinct by having its basin filled during glacial times, by sediments washed out from the ice. near the northwest corner of this flat, an exposure in the sediments of the old lake bed shows the curiously contorted layers of sand, silt, and clay represented in plate xxxviii. the layers shown in the figure are but a few feet below the level of the flat which marks the site of the lake. it will be seen that the contorted layers are between two series of horizontal ones. the material throughout the section is made up of fine-grained sands and clays, well assorted. that these particular layers should have been so much disturbed, while those below and above remained horizontal, is strange enough. the grounding of an iceberg on the surface before the overlying layers were deposited, the action of lake ice, or the effect of expansion and contraction due to freezing and thawing, may have been responsible for the singular phenomenon. contorted laminæ are rather characteristic of the deposits of stratified drift. _after the ice had disappeared._ as has already been indicated, the irregular deposition of glacial drift gave rise to many depressions without outlets in which surface waters collected after the ice had disappeared, forming ponds or lakes. so abundant are lakes and ponds and marshes in recently glaciated regions and so rare elsewhere, that they constitute one of the more easily recognized characteristics of a glaciated region. after the ice had melted, the mantle of drift which it left was sometimes so disposed as to completely obliterate preglacial valleys. more commonly it filled preglacial valleys at certain points only. in still other cases a valley was not filled completely at any point, though partially at many. in this last case, the partial fillings at various points constituted dams above which drainage was ponded, making lakes. if the dams were not high enough to throw the drainage out of the valley, the lakes would have their outlets over them. the drift dam being unconsolidated would be quickly cut down by the outflowing water, and the lake level lowered. when the dam was removed or cut to its base, the lake disappeared and drainage followed its preglacial course. in case the valley was completely filled, or completely filled at points, the case was very different. the drainage on the drift surface was established with reference to the topography which obtained when the ice departed, and not with reference to the preglacial valleys. wherever the preglacial valleys were completely filled, the postglacial drainage followed lines which were altogether independent of them. when preglacial valleys were filled by the drift in spots only, the postglacial streams followed them where they were not filled, only to leave them where the blocking occurred. in the former case the present drainage is through valleys which are preglacial in some places, and postglacial in others. thus the drainage changes effected by the drift after the ice was gone, concerned both lakes and rivers. in this region there are several illustrations of these changes. _lakes._--the lake basins of drift-covered regions are of various types. some of them are altogether in drift, some partly in drift and partly in rock, and some wholly in rock. basins in the drift were likely to be developed whenever heavy deposits surrounded thin ones. they are especially common in the depressions of terminal moraines. another class of lake basins occurs in valleys, the basins being partly rock and partly drift. if a thick deposit of drift be made at one point in a valley, while above there is little or none, the thick deposit will form a dam, above which waters may accumulate, forming a pond or lake. again, a ridge of drift may be deposited in the form of a curve with its ends against a rock-ridge, thus giving rise to a basin. in the course of time, the lakes and ponds in the depressions made or occasioned by the drift will be destroyed by drainage. remembering how valleys develop it is readily understood that the heads of the valleys will sooner or later find the lakes, and drain them if their bottoms be not too low. drainage is hostile to lakes in another way. every stream which flows into a lake brings in more or less sediment. in the standing water this sediment is deposited, thus tending to fill the lake basin. both by filling their basins and by lowering their outlets, rivers tend to the destruction of lakes, and given time enough, they will accomplish this result. in view of this double hostility of streams, it is not too much to say that "rivers are the mortal enemies of lakes." the destruction of lakes by streams is commonly a gradual process, and so it comes about that the abundance and the condition of the undrained areas in a drift-covered region is in some sense an index of the length of time, reckoned in terms of erosion, which has elapsed since the drift was deposited. in this region there were few lakes which lasted long after the ice disappeared. the basins of the baraboo and wisconsin lakes were partly of ice, and so soon as the ice disappeared, the basins were so nearly destroyed, and the drift dams that remained so easily eroded, that the lakes had but a brief history,--a history that was glacial, rather than postglacial. the history of the little lake on the east quartzite bluff as already pointed out, came to an end while the ice was still present. the beds of at least two other extinct ponds or small lakes above the level of the baraboo are known. these are at v and w, plate xxxvii. they owed their origin to depressions in the drift, but the outflowing waters have lowered their outlets sufficiently to bring them to the condition of marshes. both were small in area and neither was deep. _existing lakes._--relatively few lakes now remain in this immediate region, though they are common in most of the country covered by the ice sheet which overspread this region. devil's lake only is well known. the lake which stood in this position while the ice was on, has already been referred to. after the ice had melted away, the drift which it had deposited still left an enclosure suitable for holding water. the history of this basin calls for special mention. at the north end of the lake, and again in the capacious valley leading east from its south end, there are massive terminal moraines. followed southward, this valley though blocked by the moraine a half mile below the lake, leads off towards the wisconsin river, and is probably the course of a large preglacial stream. beyond the moraine, this valley is occupied by a small tributary to the wisconsin which heads at the moraine. to the north of the lake, the head of a tributary of the baraboo comes within eighty rods of the lake, but again the terminal moraine intervenes. from data derived from wells it is known that the drift both at the north and south ends of the lake extends many feet below the level of its water, and at the north end, the base of the drift is known to be at least fifty feet below the level of the bottom of the lake. the draining of devil's lake to the baraboo river is therefore prevented only by the drift dam at its northern end. it is nearly certain also, that, were the moraine dam at the south end of the lake removed, all the water would flow out to the wisconsin, though the data for the demonstration of this conclusion are not to be had, as already stated. there can be no doubt that the gorge between the east and west bluffs was originally the work of a pre-cambrian stream, though the depth of the pre-cambrian valley may not have been so great as that of the present. later, the valley, so far as then excavated, was filled with the cambrian (potsdam) sandstone, and re-excavated in post-cambrian and preglacial time. devil's lake then occupies an unfilled portion of an old river valley, isolated by great morainic dams from its surface continuations on either hand. between the dams, water has accumulated and formed the lake. _changes in streams._ in almost every region covered by the ice, the streams which established themselves after its departure follow more or less anomalous courses. this region is no exception. illustrations of changes which the deposition of the drift effected have already been given in one connection or another in this report. _skillett creek._--an illustration of the sort of change which drift effects is furnished by skillett creek, a small stream tributary to the baraboo, southwest of the city of that name. for some distance from its head (a to b, fig. ) its course is through a capacious preglacial valley. the lower part of this valley was filled with the water-laid drift of the overwash plain. on reaching the overwash plain the creek therefore shifted its course so as to follow the border of that plain, and along this route, irrespective of material, it has cut a new channel to the baraboo. the postglacial portion of the valley (b to c) is everywhere narrow, and especially so where cut in sandstone. the course and relations of this stream suggest the following explanation: before the ice came into the region, skillett creek probably flowed in a general northeasterly direction to the baraboo, through a valley comparable in size to the preglacial part of the present valley. as the ice advanced, the lower part of this valley was occupied by it, and the creek was compelled to seek a new course. the only course open to it was to the north, just west of the advancing ice, and, shifting westward as fast as the ice advanced, it abandoned altogether its former lower course. drainage from the ice then carried out and deposited beyond the same, great quantities of gravel and sand, making the overwash plain. this forced the stream still farther west, until it finally reached its present position across a sandstone ridge or plain, much higher than its former course. into this sandstone it has since cut a notable gorge, a good illustration of a postglacial valley. the series of changes shown by this creek is illustrative of the changes undergone by streams in similar situations and relations all along the margin of the ice. [illustration: fig. .--skillett creek, illustrating the points mentioned in the text.] the picturesque glens (parfrey's and dorward's) on the south face of the east bluff are the work of post-glacial streams. the preglacial valleys of this slope were obliterated by being filled during the glacial epoch. _the wisconsin._--the preglacial course of the wisconsin river is not known in detail, but it was certainly different from the course which the stream now follows. on plate i the relations of the present stream to the moraine (and former ice-front) may be seen.[ ] as the ice approached it from the east, the preglacial valley within the area here under consideration was affected first by the overwash from the moraine, and later by the ice itself, from the latitude of kilbourn city to prairie du sac. [ ] the preglacial course was probably east of the present in the vicinity of kilbourn city. it has already been stated that the ice probably dammed the river, and that a lake was formed above kilbourn city, reaching east to the ice and west over the lowland tributary to the river, the water rising till it found an outlet, perhaps down to the black river valley. when the ice retreated, the old valley had been partly filled, and the lowest line of drainage did not everywhere correspond with it. where the stream follows its old course, it flows through a wide capacious valley, but where it was displaced, it found a new course on the broad flat which bordered its preglacial course. displacement of the stream occurred in the vicinity of kilbourn city, and, forced to find a new line of flow west of its former course, the stream has cut a new channel in the sandstone. to this displacement of the river, and its subsequent cutting, we are indebted for the far-famed dalles of the wisconsin. but not all the present route of the river through the dalles has been followed throughout the entire postglacial history of the stream. in fig. , the depression a, b, c, was formerly the course of the stream. the present course between d and e is therefore the youngest portion of the valley, and from its lesser width is known as the "narrows." during high water in the spring, the river still sends part of its waters southward by the older and longer route. the preglacial course of the wisconsin south of the dalles has never been determined with certainty, but rational conjectures as to its position have been made. the great gap in the main quartzite range, a part of which is occupied by devil's lake, was a narrows in a preglacial valley. the only streams in the region sufficiently large to be thought of as competent to produce such a gorge are the baraboo and the wisconsin. if the baraboo was the stream which flowed through this gorge in preglacial time, the comparable narrows in the north quartzite range--the lower narrows of the baraboo--is to be accounted for. the stream which occupied one of these gorges probably occupied the other, for they are in every way comparable except in that one has been modified by glacial action, while the other has not. [illustration: fig. .--the wisconsin valley near kilbourn city.] the baraboo river flows through a gorge--the upper narrows--in the north quartzite range at ablemans, nine miles west of baraboo. this gorge is much narrower than either the lower narrows or the devil's lake gorge, suggesting the work of a lesser stream. it seems on the whole probable, as suggested by irving,[ ] that in preglacial time the wisconsin river flowed south through what is now the lower narrows of the baraboo, thence through the devil's lake gorge to its present valley to the south. if this be true, the baraboo must at that time have joined this larger stream at some point east of the city of the same name. [ ] irving. geology of wisconsin, vol. ii. _the driftless area._ reference has already been made to the fact that the western part of the area here described is driftless, and the line marking the limit of ice advance has been defined. beyond this line, gravel and sand, carried beyond the ice by water, extends some distance to the west. but a large area in the southwestern part of the state is essentially free from drift, though it is crossed by two belts of valley drift (valley trains) along the wisconsin and mississippi rivers. the "driftless area" includes, besides the southwestern portion of wisconsin, the adjoining corners of minnesota, iowa and illinois. in the earlier epochs of the glacial period this area was completely surrounded by the ice, but in the last or wisconsin epoch it was not surrounded, since the lobes did not come together south of it as in earlier times. (compare plate xxxiii and fig. .) various suggestions have been made in the attempt to explain the driftless area. the following is perhaps the most satisfactory:[ ] [ ] chamberlin and irving. geology of wisconsin, vols. i and ii. the adjacent highlands of the upper peninsula of michigan, are bordered on the north by the capacious valley of lake superior leading off to the west, while to the east lies the valley of lake michigan leading to the south. these lake valleys were presumably not so broad and deep in preglacial times as now, though perhaps even then considerable valleys. when the ice sheet, moving in a general southward direction from the canadian territory, reached these valleys, they led off two great tongues or lobes of ice, the one to the south through the lake michigan depression, the other to the south of west through the lake superior trough. (fig. .) the highland between the lake valleys conspired with the valleys to the same end. it acted as a wedge, diverting the ice to either side. it offered such resistance to the ice, that the thin and relatively feeble sheet which succeeded in surmounting it, did not advance far to the south before it was exhausted. on the other hand, the ice following the valleys of lakes superior and michigan respectively, failed to come together south of the highland until the latitude of northern iowa and illinois was reached. the driftless area therefore lies south of the highlands, beyond the limit of the ice which surmounted it, and between the superior and michigan glacial lobes above their point of union. the great depressions, together with the intervening highland, are therefore believed to be responsible for the absence of glaciation in the driftless area. _contrast between glaciated and unglaciated areas._ the glaciated and unglaciated areas differ notably in ( ) topography, ( ) drainage, and ( ) mantle rock. . _topography._--the driftless area has long been exposed to the processes of degradation. it has been cut into valleys and ridges by streams, and the ridges have been dissected into hills. the characteristic features of a topography fashioned by running water are such as to mark it clearly from surfaces fashioned by other agencies. rivers end at the sea (or in lakes). generally speaking, every point at the bottom of a river valley is higher than any other point in the bottom of the same valley nearer the sea, and lower than any other point correspondingly situated farther from the sea. this follows from the fact that rivers make their own valleys for the most part, and a river's course is necessarily downward. in a region of erosion topography therefore, tributary valleys lead down to their mains, secondary tributaries lead down to the first, and so on; or, to state the same thing in reverse order, in every region where the surface configuration has been determined by rain and river erosion, every gully and every ravine descends to a valley. the smaller valleys descend to larger and lower ones, which in turn lead to those still larger and lower. the lowest valley of a system ends at the sea, so that the valley which joins the sea is the last member of the series of erosion channels of which the ravines and gullies are the first. it will thus be seen that all depressions in the surface, worn by rivers, lead to lower ones. the surface of a region sculptured by rivers is therefore marked by valleys, with intervening ridges and hills, the slopes of which descend to them. all topographic features are here determined by the water courses. [illustration: fig. .--drainage in the driftless area. the absence of ponds and marshes is to be noted.] the relief features of the glaciated area, on the other hand, lack the systematic arrangement of those of the unglaciated territory, and stream valleys are not the controlling elements in the topography. . _drainage._--the surface of the driftless area is well drained. ponds and lakes are essentially absent, except where streams have been obstructed by human agency. the drainage of the drift-covered area, on the other hand, is usually imperfect. marshes, ponds and lakes are of common occurrence. these types are shown by the accompanying maps, figs. and , the one from the driftless area, the other from the drift-covered. [illustration: fig. .--drainage in a glaciated region. walworth and waukesha counties, wisconsin, showing abundance of marshes and lakes.] . _mantle rock._--the unglaciated surface is overspread to an average depth of several feet by a mantle of soil and earth which has resulted from the decomposition of the underlying rock. this earthy material sometimes contains fragments and even large masses of rock like that beneath. these fragments and masses escaped disintegration because of their greater resistance while the surrounding rock was destroyed. this mantle rock grades from fine material at the surface down through coarser, until the solid rock is reached, the upper surface of the rock being often ill-defined (fig. ). the thickness of the mantle is approximately constant in like topographic situations where the underlying rock is uniform. the residual soils are made up chiefly of the insoluble parts of the rock from which they are derived, the soluble parts having been removed in the process of disintegration. [illustration: fig. .--section in a driftless area, showing relation of the mantle rock to the solid rock beneath.] with these residuary soils of the driftless area, the mantle rock of glaciated tracts is in sharp contrast. here, as already pointed out, the material is diverse, having come from various formations and from widely separated sources. it contains the soluble as well as the insoluble parts of the rock from which it was derived. in it there is no suggestion of uniformity in thickness, no regular gradation from fine to coarse from the surface downward. the average thickness of the drift is also much greater than that of the residual earths. further, the contact between the drift and the underlying rock surface is usually a definite surface. (compare figs. and .) postglacial changes. since the ice melted from the region, the changes in its geography have been slight. small lakes and ponds have been drained, the streams whose valleys had been partly filled, have been re-excavating them, and erosion has been going on at all points in the slow way in which it normally proceeds. the most striking example of postglacial erosion is the dalles of the wisconsin, and even this is but a small gorge for so large a stream. the slight amount of erosion which has been accomplished since the drift was deposited, indicates that the last retreat of the ice, measured in terms of geology and geography, was very recent. it has been estimated at , to , years, though too great confidence is not to be placed in this, or any other numerical estimate of post-glacial time. index. -------------------------------------------------- pages ablemans , baraboo lake baraboo quartzite ranges , constitution of dynamic action in , , gaps in-- devil's lake gap , lower narrows , , narrows creek upper narrows , , , , igneous rock in structure of topography of , base-level base-level plains bowlder clay breccia castle rock cleopatra's needle cold water canyon conglomerate , basal (potsdam) corrasion cross-bedding cycle of erosion , dalles of the wisconsin origin of scenery of , dell creek deltas , , deposits-- by extra-glacial waters - by ice , by rivers , by subglacial streams of drift classified devil's doorway devil's lake history of in glacial times location , origin of devil's nose , divides, shifting of dorward's glen , , , drift characteristics of constitution of deposits classified effect on topography , relation of stratified to unstratified stratified topography of , driftless area , drainage-- adjustment of changes in, effected by the ice , establishment of glacial of drift-covered area of driftless area postglacial changes in endmoräne erosion-- by rain, and rivers, general outline of - elements of of folded strata of rocks of unequal hardness of the quartzite preglacial topography without valleys eskers falls fossils-- in limestone in sandstone , friendship mounds geographic features, general - glacial drainage glaciated area , , glacier ice-- deposition by direction of movement erosive work of - formation of movement of, affected by topography glens green bay lobe gibraltar rock ground moraine-- constitution of location of topography of groundwater level ice sheets-- formation of history of movement of , north american ice sheet igneous rock intermittent streams kames lakes-- wisconsin lake baraboo lake devil's lake , , , limestone, see lower magnesian. lower magnesian limestone-- fossils of history of - occurrence of origin of position of structure of lower narrows , , mantle rock , metamorphism , monadnocks moraines (see terminal moraine and ground moraine). morainic aprons narrows in quartzite , natural bridge navy yard niagara limestone north american ice sheet nunatak osars (see eskers). outwash plains , overwash plains , parfrey's glen , , , peneplain , pewit's nest , , pine hollow postglacial changes potsdam sandstone-- fossils of , history of - origin of - relation to quartzite structure of quartzite (see also baraboo quartzite ranges)-- dynamic metamorphism of erosion of origin of submergence of thickness of uplift of rapids rejuvenation of streams ripple marks , roches moutonnée sandstone (see potsdam and st. peters). sauk prarie , , skillett creek , , slope of upper surface of ice snow fields soil , , stand rock steamboat rock st. peter's sandstone stratified drift - , streams, changes in subaqueous overwash plains subglacial till (ground moraines) sugar bowl talus slopes terminal moraines-- across the united states development of in devil's lake region boundaries of location of , , on the main quartzite range width of topography of till topography-- effect of, on ice movement erosion topography of drift-covered country , of driftless area , , , of plain surrounding quartzite ridge of quartzite ridges transportation by streams tributary valleys turk's head unconformity underground water unglaciated areas , , unstratified drift , , upper narrows , , , , valley, the-- beginning of characteristics of, at various stages - course of how a valley gets a stream limits of valley trains waterfalls weathering webster's prarie wisconsin lake wisconsin river witch's gulch transcriber's note: inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have been preserved. obvious typographical errors have been corrected. italic text is denoted by _underscores_. historic waterways historic waterways six hundred miles of canoeing down the rock, fox, and wisconsin rivers by reuben gold thwaites secretary of the state historical society of wisconsin other roads do some violence to nature, and bring the traveller to stare at her; but the river steals into the scenery it traverses without intrusion, silently creating and adorning it, and is free to come and go as the zephyr.--thoreau; _a week on the concord and merrimack rivers._ chicago a. c. mcclurg and company copyright by a. c. mcclurg and co. a.d. . this little volume is inscribed by the author to his wife, his messmate upon two of the three vacation voyages herein recorded, and his fellow-voyager down the river of time. preface. there is a generally accepted notion that a brief summer vacation, if at all obtainable in this busy life of ours, must be spent in a flight as far afield as time will allow; that the popular resorts in the mountains, by the seaside, or on the margins of the upper lakes must be sought for rest and enjoyment; that neighborhood surroundings should, in the mad rush for change of air and scene, be left behind. the result is that your average vacationist--if i may be allowed to coin a needed word--knows less of his own state than of any other, and is inattentive to the delights of nature which await inspection within the limits of his horizon. but let him mount his bicycle, his saddle-horse, or his family carriage, and start out upon a gypsy tour of a week or two along the country roads, exploring the hills and plains and valleys of--say his congressional district; or, better by far, take his canoe, and with his best friend for a messmate explore the nearest river from source to mouth, and my word for it he will find novelty and fresh air enough to satisfy his utmost cravings; and when he comes to return to his counter, his desk, or his study, he will be conscious of having discovered charms in his own locality which he has in vain sought in the accustomed paths of the tourist. this volume is the record of six hundred miles of canoeing experiences on historic waterways in wisconsin and illinois during the summer of . there has been no attempt at exaggeration, to color its homely incidents, or to picture charms where none exist. it is intended to be a simple, truthful narrative of what was seen and done upon a series of novel outings through the heart of the northwest. if it may induce others to undertake similar excursions, and thus increase the little navy of healthy and self-satisfied canoeists, the object of the publication will have been attained. i am under obligations to my friend, the hon. levi alden, for valuable assistance in the revision of proof-sheets. r. g. t. madison, wis., december, . contents. page introduction table of distances the rock river chapter i. the winding yahara chapter ii. barbed-wire fences chapter iii. an illinois prairie home chapter iv. the half-way house chapter v. grand detour folks chapter vi. an ancient mariner chapter vii. storm-bound at erie chapter viii. the last day out the fox river (of green bay). first letter. smith's island second letter. from packwaukee to berlin third letter. the mascoutins fourth letter. the land of the winnebagoes fifth letter. locked through sixth letter. the bay settlement the wisconsin river. chapter i. alone in the wilderness chapter ii. the last of the sacs chapter iii. a panoramic view chapter iv. floating through fairyland chapter v the discovery of the mississippi index introduction. historic waterways. introduction. provided, reader, you have a goodly store of patience, stout muscles, a practiced fondness for the oars, a keen love of the picturesque and curious in nature, a capacity for remaining good-humored under the most adverse circumstances, together with a quiet love for that sort of gypsy life which we call "roughing it," canoeing may be safely recommended to you as one of the most delightful and healthful of outdoor recreations, as well as one of the cheapest. the canoe need not be of birch-bark or canvas, or of the rob roy or racine pattern. a plain, substantial, light, open clinker-build was what we used,--thirteen feet in extreme length, with three-and-a-half feet beam. it was easily portaged, held two persons comfortably with seventy-five pounds of baggage, and drew but five inches,--just enough to let us over the average shallows without bumping. it was serviceable, and stood the rough carries and innumerable bangs from sunken rocks and snags along its voyage of six hundred miles, without injury. it could carry a large sprit-sail, and, with an attachable keel, run close to the wind; while an awning, decided luxury on hot days, was readily hoisted on a pair of hoops attached to the gunwale on either side. but perhaps, where there are no portages necessary, an ordinary flat-bottomed river punt, built of three boards, would be as productive of good results, except as to speed,--and what matters speed upon such a tour of observation? it is not necessary to go to the maine lakes for canoeing purposes; or to skirt the gloomy wastes of labrador, or descend the angry current of a mountain stream. here, in the mississippi basin, practically boundless opportunities present themselves, at our very doors, to glide through the heart of a fertile and picturesque land, to commune with nature, to drink in her beauties, to view men and communities from a novel standpoint, to catch pictures of life and manners that will always live in one's memory. the traveler by rail has brief and imperfect glimpses of the landscape. the canoeist, from his lowly seat near the surface of the flood, sees the country practically as it was in pioneer days, in a state of unalloyed beauty. each bend in the stream brings into view a new vista, and thus the bewitching scene changes as in a kaleidoscope. the people one meets, the variety of landscape one encounters, the simple adventures of the day, the sensation of being an explorer, the fresh air and simple diet, combined with that spirit of calm contentedness which overcomes the happy voyager who casts loose from care, are the never-failing attractions of such a trip. to those would-be canoeists who are fond of the romantic history of our great west, as well as of delightful scenery, the fox (of green bay), the rock, and the wisconsin, each with its sharply distinctive features, will be found among the most interesting of our neighborhood rivers. and this record of recent voyages upon them is, i think, fairly representative of what sights and experiences await the boatman upon any of the streams of similar importance in the vast and well-watered region of the upper mississippi valley. of the three, the rock river route, through the great prairies of illinois, perhaps presents the greatest variety of life and scenery. the rock has practically two heads: the smaller, in a rustic stream flowing from the north into swamp-girted lake koshkonong; the larger, in the four lakes at madison, the charming capital of wisconsin, which empty their waters into the avon-like catfish or yahara, which in turn pours into the rock a short distance below the koshkonong lake. our course was from madison almost to the mouth of the rock, near rock island, miles of paddling, as the river winds. the student of history finds the rock interesting to him because of its associations with the black hawk war of . when the famous sac warrior "invaded" illinois, his path of progress was up the south bank of that stream. at prophetstown lived his evil genius, the crafty white cloud, and here the hawk held council with the pottawattomies, who, under good shaubena's influence, rejected the war pipe. dixon is famous as the site of the pioneer ferry over the rock, on the line of what was the principal land highway between chicago and southern wisconsin and the galena mines for a protracted period in each year. here, many a notable party of explorers, military officials, miners, and traders have rendezvoused in the olden time. here was a rallying-point in , as well, when lincoln was a raw-boned militiaman in a scouting corps, and robert anderson, of fort sumter fame, zachary taylor, and jefferson davis were of the regular army under bluff old atkinson. a grove at the mouth of stillman's creek, a rock river tributary, near byron, is the scene of the actual outbreak of the war. the forest where black hawk camped with the white-loving pottawattomies is practically unchanged, and the open, rolling prairie to the south--on which stillman's horsemen acted at first so treacherously, and afterwards as arrant cowards--is still there, a broad pasture-land miles in length, along the river. the contemporaneous descriptions of the "battle" field are readily recognizable to-day. above, as far as lake koshkonong, the river banks are fraught with interest; for along them the soldiery followed up the sac trail, like bloodhounds, and held many an unsatisfactory parley with the double-faced winnebagoes. rock river scenery combines the rustic, the romantic, and the picturesque,--prairies, meadows, ravines, swamps, mountainous bluffs, eroded palisades, wide stretches of densely wooded bottoms, heavy upland forests, shallows, spits, and rapids. birds and flowers, and uncommon plants and vines, delight the naturalist and the botanist. the many thriving manufacturing cities,--such as stoughton, janesville, beloit, rockford, rockton, dixon, sterling, and oregon,--furnish an abundance of sight-seeing. the small villages--some of them odd, out-of-the-way places, of rare types--are worthy of study to the curious in economics and human nature. the farmers are of many types; the fishermen one is thrown into daily communion with are a class unto themselves; while millers, bridge-tenders, boat-renters, and others whose callings are along-shore, present a variety of humanity interesting and instructive. the twenty-odd mill-dam portages, each having difficulties and incidents of its own, are well calculated to vary the monotony of the voyage; there are more or less dangers connected with some of the mill-races, while the lookout for snags, bowlders and shallows must be continuous, sharpening the senses of sight and sound; for a tip-over or the utter demolition of the craft may readily follow carelessness in this direction. the islands in the rock are numerous, many of them being several miles in length, and nearly all heavily wooded. these frequent divisions of the channel often give rise to much perplexity; for the ordinary summer stage of water is so low that a loaded canoe drawing five inches of water is liable to be stranded in the channel apparently most available. the fox and wisconsin rivers--the former, from portage to green bay, the latter from portage to prairie du chien--form a water highway that has been in use by white men for two and a half centuries. in , jean nicolet, the first explorer of the northwest, passed up the fox river, to about berlin, and then went southward to visit the illinois. in the month of june, , joliet and marquette made their famous tour over the interlocked watercourse and discovered the mississippi river. after they had shown the way, a tide of travel set in over these twin streams, between the great lakes and the great river,--a motley procession of jesuit missionaries, explorers, traders, trappers, soldiers and pioneers. new england was in its infancy when the fox and wisconsin became an established highway for enterprising canoeists. since the advent of the railway era this historic channel of communication has fallen into disuse. the general government has spent an immense sum in endeavoring to render it navigable for the vessels in vogue to-day, but the result, as a whole, is a failure. there is no navigation on the fox worthy of mention, above berlin, and even that below is insignificant and intermittent. on the wisconsin there is none at all, except for skiffs and an occasional lumber-raft. the canoeist of to-day, therefore, will find solitude and shallows enough on either river. but he can float, if historically inclined, through the dusky shadows of the past, for every turn of the bank has its story, and there is romance enough to stock a volume. the upper fox is rather monotonous. the river twists and turns through enormous widespreads, grown up with wild rice and flecked with water-fowl. these widespreads occasionally free themselves of vegetable growth and become lakes, like the buffalo, the puckawa, and the poygan. there is, however, much of interest to the student in natural history; while such towns as montello, princeton, berlin, omro, winneconne, and oshkosh are worthy of visitation. lake winnebago is a notable inland sea, and the canoeist feels fairly lost, in his little cockle shell, bobbing about over its great waves. the lower fox runs between high, noble banks, and with frequent rapids, past neenah, menasha, appleton, and other busy manufacturing cities, down to green bay, hoary with age and classic in her shanty ruins. the wisconsin river is the most picturesque of the three. probably the best route is from the head of the dells to the mouth; but the run from portage to the mouth is the one which has the merit of antiquity, and is certainly a long enough jaunt to satisfy the average tourist. it is a wide, gloomy, mountain-girt valley, with great sand-bars and thickly-wooded morasses. settlement is slight. portage, prairie du sac, sauk city, and muscoda are the principal towns. the few villages are generally from a mile to three miles back, at the foot of the bluffs, out of the way of the flood, and the river appears to be but little used. it is an ideal sketching-ground. the canoeist with a camera will find occupation enough in taking views of his surroundings; perplexity as to what to choose amid such a crowd of charming scenes, will be his only difficulty. some suggestions to those who may wish to undertake these or similar river trips may be advisable. traveling alone will be found too dreary. none but a hermit could enjoy those long stretches of waterway, where one may float for a day without seeing man or animal on the forest-bounded shores, and where the oppression of solitude is felt with such force that it requires but a slight stretch of imagination to carry one's self back in thought and feeling to the days when the black-robed members of the company of jesus first penetrated the gloomy wilderness. upon the size of the party should depend the character of the preparations. if the plan is to spend the nights at farmhouses or village taverns, then a party of two will be as large as can secure comfortable quarters,--especially at a farmhouse, where but one spare bed can usually be found, while many are the country inns where the accommodations are equally limited. if it is intended to tent on the banks, then the party should be larger; for two persons unused to this experience would find it exceedingly lonesome after nightfall, when visions of river tramps, dissolute fishermen, and inquisitive hogs and bulls, pass in review, and the weakness of the little camp against such formidable odds comes to be fully recognized. often, too, the camping-places are few and far between, and may involve a carry of luggage to higher lands beyond; on such occasions, the more assistance the merrier. but whatever the preparations for the night and breakfast, the mess-box must be relied upon for dinners and suppers, for there is no dining-car to be taken on along these water highways, and eating-stations are unknown. unless there are several towns on the route, of over one thousand inhabitants, it would be well to carry sufficient provisions of a simple sort for the entire trip, for supplies are difficult to obtain at small villages, and the quality is apt to be poor. farmhouses can generally be depended on for eggs, butter, and milk,--nothing more. for drinking-water, obtainable from farm-wells, carry an army canteen, if you can get one; if not, a stone jug will do. the river water is useful only for floating the canoe, and the offices of the bath. as to personal baggage, fly very light, as a draught of over six inches would at times work an estoppel to your progress on any of the three streams mentioned. in shipping your boat to any point at which you wish to embark upon a river, allow two or three days for freight-train delays. be prepared to find canoeing a rough sport. there is plenty of hard work about it, a good deal of sunburn and blister. you will be obliged to wear your old clothes, and may not be overpleased to meet critical friends in the river towns you visit. but if you have the true spirit of the canoeist, you will win for your pains an abundance of good air, good scenery, wholesome exercise, sound sleep, and something to think about all your life. table of distances.--total, miles. the rock river. miles. madison to stoughton stoughton to janesville janesville to beloit beloit to rockford rockford to byron byron to oregon oregon to dixon dixon to sterling sterling to como como to lyndon lyndon to prophetstown prophetstown to erie ferry erie ferry to coloma coloma to mouth of river mouth of river to rock island (up mississippi river) --- total the fox river (of green bay). miles. portage to packwaukee packwaukee to montello montello to marquette marquette to princeton princeton to berlin berlin to omro omro to oshkosh oshkosh to neenah neenah to appleton appleton to kaukauna kaukauna to green bay --- total the wisconsin river. miles. portage to merrimac merrimac to prairie du sac prairie du sac to arena ferry arena ferry to helena helena to lone rock bridge lone rock bridge to muscoda muscoda to port andrew port andrew to boscobel boscobel to boydtown boydtown to wauzeka (on kickapoo) wauzeka to wright's ferry wright's ferry to bridgeport bridgeport to mouth of river mouth of river to prairie du chien (up mississippi river) --- total note.--the above table of distances by water is based upon the most reliable local estimates, verified, as far as practicable, by official surveys. the rock river. [illustration: map of the rock river to accompany thwaites's "historic waterways"] the rock river. chapter i. the winding yahara. it was a quarter to twelve, monday morning, the d of may, , when we took seats in our canoe at our own landing-stage on third lake, at madison, spread an awning over two hoops, as on a chinese house-boat, pushed off, waved farewell to a little group of curious friends, and started on our way to explore the rock river of illinois. w---- wielded the paddle astern, while i took the oars amidships. despite the one hundred pounds of baggage and the warmth emitted by the glowing sun,--for the season was unusually advanced,--we made excellent speed, as we well had need in order to reach the mouth, a distance of two hundred and eighty miles as the sinuous river runs, in the seven days we had allotted to the task. it was a delightful run across the southern arm of the lake. there was a light breeze aft, which gave a graceful upward curvature to our low-set awning. the great elms and lindens at charming lakeside--the home of the wisconsin chautauqua--droop over the bowlder-studded banks, their masses of greenery almost sweeping the water. down in the deep, cool shadows groups of bass and pickerel and perch lazily swish; swarms of "crazy bugs" ceaselessly swirl around and around, with no apparent object in life but this rhythmic motion, by which they wrinkle the mirror-like surface into concentric circles. through occasional openings in the dense fringe of pendent boughs, glimpses can be had of park-like glades, studded with columnar oaks, and stretching upward to hazel-grown knolls, which rise in irregular succession beyond the bank. from the thickets comes the fussy chatter of thrushes and cat-birds, calling to their young or gossiping with the orioles, the robins, jays, and red-breasted grosbeaks, who warble and twitter and scream and trill from more lofty heights. a quarter of an hour sent us spinning across the mouth of turvill's bay. at ott's farm, just beyond, the bank rises with sheer ascent, in layers of crumbly sandstone, a dozen feet above the water's level. close-cropped woodlawn pastures gently slope upward to storm-wracked orchards, and long, dark windbreaks of funereal spruce. flocks of sheep, fresh from the shearing, trot along the banks, winding in and out between the trees, keeping us company on our way,--their bleating lambs following at a lope,--now and then stopping, in their eager, fearful curiosity, to view our craft, and assuming picturesque attitudes, worthy subjects for a painter's art. a long, hard pull through close-grown patches of reeds and lily-pads, encumbered by thick masses of green scum, brought us to the outlet of the lake and the head of that section of the catfish river which is the medium through which third lake pours its overflow into second. the four lakes of madison are connected by the catfish, the chief wisconsin tributary of the rock. upon the map this relationship reminds one of beads strung upon a thread. as the result of a protracted drought, the water in the little stream was low, and great clumps of aquatic weeds came very close to the surface, threatening, later in the season, an almost complete stoppage to navigation. but the effect of the current was at once perceptible. it was as if an additional rower had been taken on. the river, the open stream of which is some three rods wide at this point, winds like a serpent between broad marshes, which must at no far distant period in the past have been wholly submerged, thus prolonging the three upper lakes into a continuous sheet of water. from a half-mile to a mile back, on either side, there are low ridges, doubtless the ancient shores of a narrow lake that was probably thirty or forty miles in length. in high water, even now, the marshes are converted into widespreads, where the dense tangle of wild rice, reeds, and rushes does not wholly prevent canoe navigation; while little mud-bottomed lakes, a quarter of a mile or so in diameter, are frequently met with at all stages. in places, the river, during a drought, has a depth of not over eighteen inches. in such stretches, the current moves swiftly over hard bottoms strewn with gravel and the whitened sepulchres of snails and clams. in the widespreads, the progress is sluggish, the vegetable growth so crowding in upon the stream as to leave but a narrow and devious channel, requiring skill to pilot through; for in these labyrinthian turnings one is quite liable, if not closely watching the lazy flood, to push into some vexatious cul-de-sac, many rods in length, and be obliged to retrace, with the danger of mistaking a branch for the main channel. in the depths of the tall reeds motherly mud-hens are clucking, while their mates squat in the open water, in meditative groups, rising with a prolonged splash and a whirr as the canoe approaches within gunshot. secluded among the rushes and cat-tails, nestled down in little clumps of stubble, are hundreds of the cup-shaped nests of the red-winged blackbird, or american starling; the females, in modest brown, take a rather pensive view of life, administering to the wants of their young; while the bright-hued, talkative males, perched on swaying stalks, fairly make the air hum with their cheery trills. water-lilies abound everywhere. the blossoms of the yellow variety (nuphar advena) are here and there bursting in select groups, but as a rule the buds are still below the surface. in the mud lakes, the bottom is seen through the crystal water to be thickly studded with great rosettes, two and three feet in diameter, of corrugated ovate leaves, of golden russet shade, out of which are shot upward brilliant green stalks, some bearing arrow-shaped leaves, and others crowned with the tight-wrapped buds that will soon open upon the water level into saffron-hued flowers. the plate-like leaves of the white variety (nymphæa tuberosa) already dot the surface, but the buds are not yet visible. anchored by delicate stems to the creeping root-stalks, buried in the mud below, the leaves, when first emerging, are of a rich golden brown, but they are soon frayed by the waves, and soiled and eaten by myriads of water-bugs, slugs, and spiders, who make their homes on these floating islands. pluck a leaf, and the many-legged spiders, the roving buccaneers of these miniature seas, stalk off at high speed, while the slugs and leeches, in a spirit of stubborn patriotism, prefer meeting death upon their native heath to politic emigration. by one o'clock we had reached the railway bridge at the head of second lake. upon the trestlework were perched three boys and a man, fishing. they had that listless air and unkempt appearance which are so characteristic of the little groups of humanity often to be found on a fair day angling from piers, bridges, and railway embankments. men who imagine the world is allied against them will loll away a dozen hours a day, throughout an entire summer season, sitting on the sun-heated girders of an iron bridge; yet they would strike against any system in the work-a-day world which compelled them to labor more than eight hours for ten hours' pay. in going down a long stretch of water highway, one comes to believe that about one-quarter of the inhabitants, especially of the villages, spend their time chiefly in fishing. on a canoe voyage, the bridge fishermen and the birds are the classes of animated nature most frequently met with, the former presenting perhaps the most unique and varied specimens. there are fishermen and fishermen. i never could fancy izaak walton dangling his legs from a railroad bridge, soaking a worm at the end of a length of store twine, vainly hoping, as the hours went listlessly by, that a stray sucker or a diminutive catfish would pull the bob under and score a victory for patience. now the use of a boat lifts this sort of thing to the dignity of a sport. second lake is about three miles long by a mile in breadth. the shores are here and there marshy; but as a rule they are of good, firm land with occasional rocky bluffs from a dozen to twenty feet high, rising sheer from a narrow beach of gravel. as we crossed over to gain the lower catfish, a calm prevailed for the most part, and the awning was a decided comfort. now and then, however, a delightful puff came ruffling the water astern, swelling our canvas roof and noticeably helping us along. light cloudage, blown swiftly before upper aerial currents, occasionally obscured the sun,--black, gray, and white cumuli fantastically shaped and commingled, while through jagged and rapidly shifting gaps was to be seen with vivid effect, the deep blue ether beyond. the bluffs and glades are well wooded. the former have escarpments of yellow clay and grayish sand and gravel; here and there have been landslides, where great trees have fallen with the débris and maintain but a slender hold amid their new surroundings, leaning far out over the water, easy victims for the next tornado. one monarch of the woods had been thus precipitated into the flood; on one side, its trunk and giant branches were water-soaked and slimy, while those above were dead and whitened by storm. as we approached, scores of turtles, sunning themselves on the unsubmerged portion, suddenly ducked their heads and slid off their perches amid a general splash, to hidden grottos below; while a solitary king-fisher from his vantage height on an upper bough hurriedly rose, and screamed indignance at our rude entry upon his preserve. a farmer's lad sitting squat upon his haunches on the beach, and another, leaning over a pasture-fence, holding his head between his hands, exhibited lamb-like curiosity at the awning-decked canoe, as it glided past their bank. through openings in the forest, we caught glimpses of rolling upland pastures, with sod close-cropped and smooth as a well-kept lawn; of gray-blue fields, recently seeded; of farmhouses, spacious barns, tobacco-curing sheds,--for this is the heart of the wisconsin tobacco region,--and those inevitable signs of rural prosperity, windmills, spinning around by spurts, obedient to the breath of the intermittent may-day zephyr; while little bays opened up, on the most distant shore, enchanting vistas of blue-misted ridges. at last, after a dreamy pull of two miles from the lake-head, we rounded a bold headland of some thirty feet in height, and entered catfish bay. ice-pushed bowlders strew the shore, which is here a gentle meadow slope, based by a gravel beach. a herd of cattle are contentedly browsing, their movements attuned to a symphony of cow-bells dangling from the necks of the leaders. the scene is pre-eminently peaceful. the catfish connecting second lake with first, has two entrances, a small flat willow island dividing them. through the eastern channel, which is the deepest, the current goes down with a rush, the obstruction offered by numerous bowlders churning it into noisy rapids; but the water tames down within a few rods, and the canoe comes gayly gliding into the united stream, which now has a placid current of two miles per hour,--quite fast enough for canoeing purposes. this section of the catfish is much more picturesque than the preceding; the shores are firmer; the parallel ridges sometimes closely shut it in, and the stream, here four or five rods wide, takes upon itself the characteristics of the conventional river. the weed and vine grown banks are oftentimes twenty feet in height, with as sharp an ascent as can be comfortably climbed; and the swift-rushing water is sometimes fringed with sumachs, elders, and hazel brush, with here and there willows, maples, lindens, and oaks. occasionally the river apparently ends at the base of a steep, earthy bluff; but when that is reached there is a sudden swerve to the right or left, with another vista of banks,--sometimes wood-grown to the water's edge, again with openings revealing purplish-brown fields, neatly harrowed, stretching up to some commanding, forest-crowned hill-top. the blossoms of the wild grape burden the air with sweet scent; on the deep-shaded banks, amid stones and cool mosses, the red and yellow columbine gracefully nods; the mandrake, with its glossy green leaves, grows with tropical luxuriance; more in the open, appears in great profusion, the old maid's nightcap, in purplish roseate hue; the sheep-berry shrub is decked in masses of white blossoms; the hawthorn flower is detected by its sickly-sweet scent, and here and there are luxuriously-flowered locusts, specimens that have escaped from cultivation to take up their homes in this botanical wilderness. there are charming rustic pictures at every turn,--sleek herds of cattle, droves of fat hogs, flocks of sheep that have but recently doffed their winter suits, well-tended fields, trim-looking wire fences, neat farm-houses where rows of milkpans glisten upon sunny drying-benches, farmers and farmers' boys riding aristocratic-looking sulky drags and cultivators,--everywhere an air of agricultural luxuriance, rather emphasized by occasional log-houses, which repose as honored relics by the side of their pretentious successors, sharply contrasting the wide differences between pioneer life and that of to-day. the marshes are few; and they in this dry season are luxuriant with coarse, glossy wild grass,--the only hay-crop the farmer will have this year,--and dotted with clumps of dead willow-trees, which present a ghostly appearance, waving their white, scarred limbs in the freshening breeze. the most beautiful spot on this section of the catfish is a point some eight miles above stoughton. the verdure-clad banks are high and steep. a lanky norwegian farmer came down an angling path with a pail-yoke over his shoulders to get washing-water for his "woman," and told us that when this country was sparsely settled, a third of a century ago, there was a mill-dam here. that was the day when the possession of water-power meant more than it does in this age of steam and rapid transit,--the day when every mill-site was supposed to be a nucleus around which a prosperous village must necessarily grow in due time. nothing now remains as a relic of this particular fond hope but great hollows in either bank, where the clay for dam-making purposes has been scooped out, and a few rotten piles, having a slender hold upon the bottom, against which drift-wood has lodged, forming a home for turtles and clumps of semi-aquatic grasses. w---- avers, in a spirit of enthusiasm, that the catfish between second and first lakes is quite similar in parts to the immortal avon, upon which shakespeare canoed in the long-ago. if she is right, then indeed are the charms of avon worthy the praise of the muses. if the catfish of to-day is ever to go down to posterity on the wings of poesy, however, i would wish that it might be with the more euphonious title of "yahara,"--the original winnebago name. the map-maker who first dropped the liquid "yahara" for the rasping "catfish" had no soul for music. darting under a quaint rustic foot-bridge made of rough poles, which on its high trestles stalks over a wide expanse of reedy bog like a giant "stick-bug," we emerged into first lake. the eastern shore, which we skirted, is a wide, sandy beach, backed by meadows. the opposite banks, two or three miles away, present more picturesque outlines. a stately wild swan kept us company for over a mile, just out of musket-shot, and finally took advantage of a patch of rushes to stop and hide. a small sandstone quarry on the southeast shore, with a lone worker, attracted our attention. there was not a human habitation in sight, and it seemed odd to see a solitary man engaged in such labor apparently so far removed from the highways of commerce. the quarryman stuck his crowbar in a crack horizontally, to serve as a seat, and filled his pipe as we approached. we hailed him with inquiries, from the stone pier jutting into the lake at the foot of the bluff into which he was burrowing. he replied from his lofty perch, in rich norsk brogue, that he shipped stone by barge to stoughton, and good-humoredly added, as he struck a match and lit his bowl of weed, that he thought himself altogether too good company to ever get lonesome. we left the philosopher to enjoy his pipe in peace, and passed on around the headland. an iron railway bridge, shut in with high sides, and painted a dullish red, spans the lower catfish at the outlet of first lake. a country boy, with face as dirty as it was solemn, stood in artistic rags at the base of an arch, fishing with a bit of hop-twine tied to the end of a lath; from a mass of sedge just behind him a hoarse cry arose at short intervals. "hi, johnny, what's that making the noise? "bird!" sententiously responded the stoic youth. he looked as though he had been bored with a silly question, and kept his eyes on his task. "what kind of a bird, johnny?" "d'no!" rather raspishly. he evidently thought he was being guyed. we ran the nose of the canoe into the reeds. there was a splash, a wild cry of alarm, and up flew a great bittern. circling about until we had passed on, it then drifted down to its former location near the uninquiring lad,--where doubtless it had a nest of young, and had been disturbed in the midst of a lecture on domestic discipline. wide marshes again appear on either side of the stream. there are great and small bitterns at every view; plovers daintily picking their way over the open bogs, greedily feeding on countless snails; wild ducks in plenty, patiently waiting in the secluded bayous for the development of their young; yellow-headed troopials flitting freely about, uttering a choking, gulping cry; while the pert little wren, with his smart cock-tail, views the varied scene from his perch on a lofty rush, jealously keeping watch and ward over his ball-like castle, with its secret gate, hung among the reeds below. but interspersing the marshes there are often stretches of firm bank and delightfully varied glimpses of hillside and wood. three miles above stoughton, we stopped for supper at the edge of a glade, near a quaint old bridge. while seated on the smooth sward, beside our little spread, there came a vigorous rustling among the branches of the trees that overhang the country road which winds down the opposite slope to the water's edge to take advantage of the crossing. a gypsy wagon, with a high, rounded, oil-cloth top soon emerged from the forest, and was seen to have been the cause of the disturbance. halting at one side of the highway, three men and a boy jumped out, unhitched the horses at the pole and the jockeying stock at the tail-board, and led them down to water. two women meanwhile set about getting supper, and preparations were made for a night camp. we confessed to a touch of sympathy with our new neighbors on the other shore, for we felt as though gypsying ourselves. the hoop awning on the canoe certainly had the general characteristics of a gypsy-wagon top; we knew not and cared not where night might overtake us; we were dependent on the country for our provender; were at the mercy of wind, weather, and the peculiarities of our chosen highway; and had deliberately turned our backs on home for a season of untrammeled communion with nature. it was during a golden sunset that, pushing on through a great widespread, through which the channel doubles and twists like a scotched snake, we came in sight of the little city of stoughton. first, the water-works tower rises above the mass of trees which embower the settlement. then, on nearer approach, through rifts in the woodland we catch glimpses of some of the best outlying residences, most of them pretty, with well-kept grounds. then come the church-spires, the ice-houses, the barge-dock, and with a spurt we sweep alongside the foundry of mandt's wagon-works. depositing our oars, paddle, blankets, and supplies in the office, the canoe was pulled up on the grass and padlocked to a stake. the street lamps were lighting as we registered at the inn. stoughton has about two thousand inhabitants. a walk about town in the evening, revealed a number of bright, busy shops, chiefly kept by norwegians, who predominate in this region. nearly every street appears to end in one of mandt's numerous factory yards, and the wagon-making magnate seems to control pretty much the entire river front here. chapter ii. barbed-wire fences. we were off in the morning, after an early breakfast at the stoughton inn. our host kindly sent down his porter to help us over the mill-dam,--our first and easiest portage, and one of the few in which we received assistance of any kind. below this, as below all of the dams on the river, there are broad shallows. the water in the stream, being at a low stage, is mainly absorbed in the mill-race, and the apron spreads the slight overflow evenly over the width of the bed, so that there is left a wide expanse of gravel and rocks below the chute, which is not covered sufficiently deep for navigating even our little craft, drawing but five inches when fully loaded. we soon grounded on the shallows and i was obliged to get out and tow the lightened boat to the tail of the race, where deeper water was henceforth assured. this experience became quite familiar before the end of the trip. i had fortunately brought a pair of rubbers in my satchel, and found them invaluable as wading-shoes, where the river bottom is strewn with sharp gravel and slimy round-heads. below stoughton the river winds along in most graceful curves, for the most part between banks from six to twenty feet high, with occasional pocket-marshes, in which the skunk-cabbage luxuriates. the stream is often thickly studded with lily-pads, which the wind, blowing fresh astern, frequently ruffles so as to give the appearance of rapids ahead, inducing caution where none is necessary. but every half-mile or so there are genuine little rapids, some of them requiring care to successfully shoot; in low water the canoe goes bumping along over the small moss-grown rocks, and now and then plumps solidly on a big one; when the stream is turbid,--as often happens below a pasture, where the cattle stir up the bank mud,--the danger of being overturned by scarcely submerged bowlders is imminent. there are some decidedly romantic spots, where little densely-wooded and grape-tangled glens run off at right angles, leading up to the bases of commanding hillocks, which they drain; or where the noisy little river, five or six rods wide, goes swishing around the foot of a precipitous, bush-grown bluff. it is noticeable that in such beauty-spots as these are generally to be found poverty-stricken cabins, the homes of small fishermen and hunters; while the more generous farm-houses seek the fertile but prosaic openings. all of a sudden, around a lovely bend, a barbed-wire fence of four strands savagely disputed the passage. a vigorous back-water stroke alone saved us from going full tilt into the bayonets of the enemy. we landed, and there was a council of war. as every stream in wisconsin capable of floating a saw-log is "navigable" in the eye of the law, it is plain that this obstruction is an illegal one. being an illegal fence, it follows that any canoeist is entitled to clip the wires, if he does not care to stop and prosecute the fencers for barring his way. the object of the structure is to prevent cattle from walking around through the shallow river into neighboring pastures. along the upper catfish, where boating is more frequently indulged in, farmers accomplish the same object by fencing in a few feet of the stream parallel with the shore. but below stoughton, where canoeing is seldom practiced, the cattle-owners run their fences directly across the river as a measure of economy. taking into consideration the fact that the lower catfish is seldom used as a highway, we concluded that we would be charitable and leave the fences intact, getting under or over them as best we might. i am afraid that had we known that twenty-one of these formidable barriers were before us, the council would not have agreed on so conciliatory a campaign. having taken in our awning and disposed of our baggage amidships, so that nothing remained above the gunwale, w----, kneeling, took the oars astern, while i knelt in the bow with the paddle borne like a battering-ram. pushing off into the channel we bore down on the centre of the works, which were strong and thickly-posted, with wires drawn as tight as a drum-string. catching the lower strand midway between two posts, on the blade end of the paddle, the speed of the canoe was checked. then, seizing that strand with my right hand, so that the thick-strewn barbs came between my fingers, i forced it up to the second strand, and held the two rigidly together, thus making a slight arch. the canoe being crowded down into the water by sheer exercise of muscle, i crouched low in the bow, at the same time forcing the canoe under and forward through the arch. when half-way through, w---- was able similarly to clutch the wires, and perform the same office for the stern. this operation, ungraceful but effective, was frequently repeated during the day. when the current is swift and the wind fresh a special exertion is necessary on the part of the stern oar to keep the craft at right angles with the fence,--the tendency being, as soon as the bow is snubbed, to drift alongside and become entangled in the wires, with the danger of being either badly scratched or upset. it is with a feeling of no slight relief that a canoeist emerges from a tussle with a barbed-wire fence; and if hands, clothing, and boat have escaped without a scratch, he may consider himself fortunate, indeed. before the day was through, when our twenty-one fences had been conquered without any serious accident, it was unanimously voted that the exercise was not to be recommended to those weak in muscle or patience. eight miles below stoughton is dunkirk. there is a neat frame grist-mill there; and up a gentle slope to the right are four or five weather-beaten farm-houses, in the corners of the cross-roads. it was an easy portage at the dam. after pushing through the shallows below with some difficulty, we ran in under the shadow of a substantial wagon-bridge, and beached. going up to the corners, we filled the canteen with ice-cold water from a moss-grown well, and interviewed the patriarchal miller, who assured us that "nigh onter a dozen year ago, dunkirk had a bigger show for growin' than stoughton, but the railroad went 'round us." a few miles down stream and we come to stebbinsville. the water is backset by a mill-dam for two miles, forming a small lake. the course now changing, the wind came dead ahead, and we rowed down to the dam in a rolling sea, with much exertion. the river is six rods wide here, flowing between smooth, well-rounded, grass-grown banks, from fifteen to thirty feet in height, the fields on either side sloping up to wood-crowned ridges. there are a mill and two houses at stebbinsville, and the country round about has a prosperous appearance. a tall, pleasant-spoken young miller came across the road-bridge and talked to us about the crops and the river, while we made a comfortable portage of five rods, up the grassy bank and through a close-cropped pasture, down to a sequestered little bay at the tail of an abandoned race, where the spray of the falls spattered us as we reloaded. we pushed off, with the joint opinion that stebbinsville was a charming little place, with ideal riverside homes, that would be utterly spoiled by building the city on its site which the young man said his father had always hoped would be established there. a quarter of a mile below, around the bend, is a disused mill, thirty feet up, on the right bank. there is a suspended platform over a ravine, to one side of the building, and upon its handrail leaned two dusty millers, who had doubtless hastened across from the upper mill, to watch the progress down the little rapids here of what was indeed a novel craft to these waters. they waved their caps and gave us a cheery shout as we quickly disappeared around another curve; but while it still rung in our ears we were suddenly confronted by one of the tightest fences on the course, and had neither time nor disposition to return the salute. and so we slid along, down rapids, through long stretches of quiet water and scraping over shallows, plying both oars and paddle, while now and then "making" a fence and comparing its savagery with that of the preceding one. here and there the high vine-clad banks, from overshadowing us would irregularly recede, leaving little meadows, full of painted-cups, the wild rose-colored phlox and saxifrage; or bits of woodland in the dryer bottoms, radiant, amid the underbrush, with the daisy, cinque-foil, and puccoon. kingfishers and blue herons abound. great turtles, disturbed by the unwonted splash of oars, slide down high, sunny banks of sand, where they have been to lay their eggs, and amid a cloud of dust shuffle off into the water, their castle of safety. these eggs, so trustfully left to be hatched by the warmth of the sun, form toothsome food for coons and skunks, which in turn fall victims to farmers' lads,--as witness the rows of peltries stretched inside out on shingles, and tacked up on the sunny sides of the barns and woodsheds along the river highway. as we begin to approach the valley of the rock, the hills grow higher, groups of red cedar appear, the banks of red clay often attain the height of fifty or sixty feet, broken by deep, staring gullies and wooded ravines, through which little brooklets run, the output of back-country springs; while the pocket-meadows are less frequent, although more charmingly diversified as to color and background. we had our mid-day lunch on a pleasant bank, that had been covered earlier in the season with hepatica, blood-root, and dicentra, and was now resplendent with solomon's seal, the dark-purple water-leaf, and graceful maidenhair ferns, with here and there a dogwood in full bloom. behind us were thick woods and an overlooking ridge; opposite, a meadow-glade on which herds of cattle and black hogs grazed. a bell cow waded into the water, followed by several other members of the herd, and the train pensively proceeded in single file diagonally across the shallow stream to another feeding-ground below. the leader's bell had a peculiarly mournful note, and the scene strongly reminded one of an ecclesiastical procession. in the middle of the afternoon the little village of fulton was reached. it is a dead-alive, moss-grown settlement, situated on a prairie, through which the river has cut a deep channel. there are a cheese-factory, a grist-mill, a church, a school-house, three or four stores, and some twenty-five houses, with but a solitary boat in sight, and that of the punt variety. it was recess at the school as we rowed past, and boys and girls were chiefly engaged in climbing the trees which cluster in the little schoolhouse yard. a chorus of shouts and whistles greeted us from the leafy perches, in which we could distinguish "shoot the roof!"--an exclamation called forth by the awning, which doubtless seemed the chief feature of our outfit, viewed from the top of the bank. at the mill-dam, a dozen lazy, shiftless fellows were fishing at the foot of the chute, and stared at our movements with expressionless eyes. the portage was somewhat difficult, being over a high bank, across a rocky road, and down through a stretch of bog. when we had completed the carry, w---- waited in the canoe while i went up to the fishermen for information as to the lay of the country. "how far is it to the mouth of the catfish, my friend?" i asked the most intelligent member of the party. "d'no! never was thar." he jerked in his bait, to pull off a weed that had become entangled in it, and from the leer he gave his comrades it was plain that i had struck the would-be wag of the village. "how far do you think it is?" i insisted, curious to see how far he would carry his obstinacy. "don' think nuthin' 'bout 't; don' care t' know." "didn't you ever hear any one say how far it is?" and i sat beside him on the stone pier, as if i had come to stay. "nah!" "suppose you were placed in a boat here and had to float down to the rock, how long do you imagine you'd be?" "aint no man goin' t' place me in no boat! no siree!" pugnaciously. "don't you ever row?" "nah!" contemptuously; "what i want of a boat? bridge 's good 'nough fer us fellers, a-fishin'." "whose boat is that, over there, on the shore?" "schoolmaster's. he's a dood, he is. bridge isn't rich 'nough fer his blood. boats is fer doods." and with this withering remark he relapsed into so intent an observation of his line that i thought it best to disturb him no longer. below fulton, the stream is quite swift and the scenery more rugged, the evidences of disastrous spring overflows and back-water from the rock being visible on every hand. at five o'clock, we came to a point where the river divides into three channels, there being a clump of four small islands. a barbed-wire fence, the last we were fated to meet, was stretched across each channel. selecting the central mouth,--for this is the delta of the catfish,--we shot down with a rush, but were soon lodged on a sandbank. it required wading and much pushing and twisting and towing before we were again off, but in the length of a few rods more we swung free into the rock, which was to be our highway for over two hundred miles more of canoe travel. the rock river is nearly a quarter of a mile wide at this point, and comes down with a majestic sweep from the north, having its chief source in the gloomily picturesque lake koshkonong. the banks of the river at and below the mouth of the catfish, are quite imposing, rising into a succession of graceful, round-topped mounds, from fifty to one hundred feet high, and finely wooded except where cleared for pasture or as the site of farm-buildings. while the immediate edges of the stream are generally firm and grass-grown, with occasional gravelly beaches, there are frequent narrow strips of marsh at the bases of the mounds, especially on the left bank where innumerable springs send forth trickling rills to feed the river. a stiff wind up-stream had broken the surface into white caps, and more than counteracted the force of the lazy current, so that progress now depended upon vigorous exercise at the oars and paddle. three miles above janesville is pope's springs, a pleasant summer resort, with white tents and gayly painted cottages commingled. it is situated in a park-like wood, on the right bank, while directly opposite are some bold, rocky cliffs, or palisades, their feet laved in the stream. we spread our supper cloth on the edge of a wheat-field, in view of the pretty scene. the sun was setting behind a bank of roseate clouds, and shooting up broad, sharply defined bands of radiance nearly to the zenith. the wind was blowing cold, wraps were essential, and we were glad to be on our way once more, paddling along in the dying light, past palisades and fields and meadows, reaching prosperous janesville, on her rolling prairie, just as dusk was thickening into dark. chapter iii. an illinois prairie home. we had an early start from the hotel next morning. a prospect of the situation at the upper janesville dam, from a neighboring bridge, revealed the fact that the mill-race along the left bank afforded the easiest portage. reloading our craft at the boat-renter's staging where it had passed the night, we darted across the river, under two low-hung bridges, keeping well out of the overflow current and entered the race, making our carry over a steep and rocky embankment. below, after passing through the centre of the city, the river widens considerably, as it cuts a deep channel through the fertile prairie, and taking a sudden bend to the southwest, becomes a lake, formed by back-water from the lower dam. the wind was now dead ahead again, and fierce. white caps came savagely rolling up stream. the pull down brought out the rowing muscles to their fullest tension. the canoe at times would appear to scarcely creep along, although oars and paddle would bend to their work. the race of the carding-mill, which we were now approaching, is by the left bank, the rest of the broad river--fully a third of a mile wide here--being stemmed by a ponderous, angling dam, the shorter leg of which comes dangerously close to the entrance of the race, which it nearly parallels. overhead, fifty feet skyward, a great railway bridge spans the chasm. the disposition of its piers leaves a rowing channel but two rods wide, next the shore. through this a deep, swift current flows, impelling itself for the most part over the short leg of the chute, with a deafening roar. its backset, however, is caught in the yawning mouth of the race. it so happens then that from either side of an ugly whirling strip of doubting water, parallel with the shorter chute, the flood bursts forth,--to the left plunging impetuously over the apron to be dashed to vapor at its foot; to the right madly rushing into the narrow race, to turn the wheels of the carding-mill half a mile below. this narrow channel, under the bridge and next the shore, of which i have spoken, is the only practicable entrance to the race. we had landed above and taken a panoramic view of the situation from the deck of the bridge; afterward had descended to the flood-gates at the entrance of the race, for detailed inspection and measurements. one of the set of three gates was partly raised, the bottom being but three feet above the boiling surface, while the great vertical iron beams along which the cog-wheels work were not over four feet apart. it would require steady hands to guide the canoe to the right of the whirl, where the flood hesitated between two destinations, and finally to shoot under the uplifted gate, which barely gave room in either height or breadth for the passage of the boat. but we arrived at the conclusion that the shoot was far more dangerous in appearance than in reality, and that it was preferable to a long and exceedingly irksome portage. so we determined to make the attempt, and walked back to the canoe. disposing our baggage in the centre, as in the barbed-wire experience of the day before, w---- again took the oars astern and i the paddle at the bow. a knot of men on the bridge had been watching our movements with interest, and waved their hats at us as we came cautiously creeping along the shore. we went under the bridge with a swoop, waited till we were within three rods of the brink of the thundering fall, and then strained every muscle in sending the canoe shooting off at an angle into the waters bound for the race. we went down to the gate as if shot out of a cannon, but the little craft was easily controlled, quickly obeying every stroke of the paddle. catching a projecting timber, it was easy to guide ourselves to the opening. we lay down in the bottom of the boat and with uplifted hands clutched the slimy gate; slowly, hand over hand, we passed through under the many internal beams and rods of the structure, with the boiling flood under us, making an echoing roar, amid which we were obliged to fairly shout our directions to each other. in the last section the release was given; we were fairly hurled into daylight on the surface of the mad torrent, and were many a rod down the race before we could recover our seats. the men on the bridge, joined by others, now fairly yelled themselves hoarse over the successful close of what was apparently a hazardous venture, and we waved acknowledgments with the paddle, as we glided away under the willows which overhang the long and narrow canal. at the isolated mill, where there is one of the easiest portages on the route, the hands came flocking by dozens to the windows to see the craft which had invaded their quiet domain. the country toward beloit becomes more hilly, especially upon the left bank, along which runs the chicago and northwestern railway, all the way down from janesville. at the beloit paper-mill, which was reached at three o'clock in the afternoon, it was found that owing to the low stage of water one end of the apron projected above the flood. with some difficulty as to walking on the slimy incline, we portaged over the face of the dam and went down stream through the heart of the pretty little college town, getting more or less picturesque back-door views of the domestic life of the community. beloit being on the state line, we had now entered illinois. for several miles the river is placid and shallow, with but a feeble current. islands begin to appear, dividing the channel and somewhat perplexing canoeists, it being often quite difficult to decide which route is the best; as a rule, one is apt to wish that he had taken some other than the one selected. the dam at rockton was reached in a two hours' pull. it was being repaired, stone for the purpose being quarried on a neighboring bank and transported to the scene of action on a flat-boat. we had been told that we could save several miles by going down the race, which cuts the base of a long detour. but the boss of the dam-menders assured us that the race was not safe, and that we would "get in a trap" if we attempted it. deeming discretion the better part of valor, with much difficulty we lifted the canoe over the high, jagged, stone embankment and through a bit of tangled swamp to the right, and took the longest way around. it was four or five miles by the bend to the village of rockton, whose spires we could see at the dam, rising above a belt of intervening trees. it being our first detour of note, we were somewhat discouraged at having had so long a pull for so short a vantage; but we became well used to such experiences long before our journey was over. it was not altogether consoling to be informed at rockton--which is a smart little manufacturing town of a thousand souls--that the race was perfectly practicable for canoes, and the tail portage easy. beaching near the base of a fine wagon-bridge which here spans the rock, we went up to a cluster of small houses on the bank opposite the town, to have some tea steeped, our prepared stock being by this time exhausted. the people were all employed in the paper-mills in the village, but one good woman chanced to be at home for the afternoon, and cheerfully responded to our request for service. a young, neat, and buxom little woman she was, though rather sad-eyed and evidently overworked in the family struggle for existence. she assured us that she nowadays never went upon the water in an open boat, for she had "three times been near drowndid" in her life, which she thought was "warnin' enough for one body." inquiry developed that her first "warnin'" consisted of having been, when she was "a gal down in kansis," taken for a row in a leaky boat; the water came in half-way up to the thwarts, and would have eventually swamped the craft and drowned its occupants, in perhaps half an hour's time, if her companion had not luckily bethought himself to run in to shore and land. another time, she and her husband were out rowing, when a stern-wheel river steamer came along, and the swell in her wake washed the row-boat atop of a log raft, and "she stuck there, ma'am, would ye believe, and we'd 'a' drowndid sure, with a storm a-comin' up, hadn't my brother-in-law, that was then a-courtin' of sister jane, come off in a dug-out and took us in." her last and most harrowing experience was in a boat on the republican river in kansas. she and another woman were out when a storm came up, and white-capped waves tossed the little craft about at will; but fortunately the blow subsided, and the women regained pluck enough to take the oars and row home again. the eyes of the paper-maker's wife were suffused with tears, as, seated in her rocking-chair by the kitchen stove and giving the teapot an occasional shake, doubtless to hasten the brew, she related these thrilling tales of adventure by flood, and called us to witness that thrice had providence directly interposed in her behalf. we were obliged to acknowledge ourselves much impressed with the gravity of the dangers she had so successfully passed through. her sympathy with the perils which we were braving, in what she was pleased to call our singular journey, was so great that the good woman declined to accept pay for having steeped our tea in a most excellent manner, and bade us an affecting god-speed. we had our supper, graced with the hot tea, on a pretty sward at the river end of the quiet lane just around the corner; while a dozen little children in pinafores and short clothes, perched on a neighboring fence, watched and discussed us as eagerly as though we were a circus caravan halting by the wayside for refreshment. the paper-maker's wife also came out, just as we were packing up for the start, and inspected the canoe in some detail. her judgment was that in her giddiest days as an oarswoman, she would certainly never have dared to set foot in such a shell. she watched us off, just as the sun was disappearing, and the last rockton object we saw was our tenderhearted friend standing on the beach at the end of her lane, both hands shading her eyes, as she watched us fade away in the gloaming. i have no doubt she has long ago given us up for lost, for her last words were, "i've heerd 'em tell it was a riskier river than any in kansis, 'tween here an' missip'; tek care ye don't git drowndid!" in the soft evening shadows it was cool enough for heavy wraps. in fact, for the greater part of the day w---- had worn a light shoulder cape. we had a beautiful sunset, back of a group of densely timbered islands. we would have been sorely tempted to camp out on one of these, but the night was setting in too cold for sleeping in the open air, and we had no tent with us. the twilight was nearly spent, and the banks and now frequent islands were so heavily wooded that on the river it was rapidly becoming too dark to navigate among the shallows and devious channels. w---- volunteered to get out and look for a farmhouse, for none could be seen from our hollow way. so she landed and got up into some prairie wheatfields back away from the bank. after a half-mile's walk parallel with the river she sighted a prosperous-looking establishment, with a smart windmill, large barns, and a thrifty orchard, silhouetted against the fast-fading sunset sky. the signal was given, and the prow of the canoe was soon resting on a steep, gravely beach at the mouth of a ravine. armed with the paddle, for a possible encounter with dogs, we went up through the orchard and a timothy-field sopping with dew, scaled the barnyard fence, passed a big black dog that growled savagely, but was by good chance chained to an old mowing-machine, walked up to the kitchen door and boldly knocked. no answer. the stars were coming out, the shadows darkening, night was fairly upon us, and shelter must be had, if we were obliged to sleep in the barn. the dog reared on his hind legs, and fairly howled with rage. a row of well-polished milk-cans on a bench by the windmill well, and the general air of thrifty neatness impelled us to persevere. an old german, with kindly face and bushy white hair, finally came, cautiously peering out beneath a candle which he held above his head. english he had none, and our german was too fresh from the books to be reliable in conversation. however, we mustered a few stereotyped phrases from the "familiar conversations" in the back of the grammar, which served to make the old man smile, and disappearing toward the cattle-sheds he soon returned with his daughter and son-in-law, a cheerful young couple who spoke good english, and assured us of welcome and a bed. they had been out milking by lantern-light when interrupted, and soon rejoined us with brimming pails. it did not take long to feel quite at home with these simple, good-hearted folk. they had but recently purchased the farm and were strangers in the community. the old man lived with his other children at freeport, and was there only upon a visit. the young people, natives of illinois, were lately married, their wedding-trip having been made to this house, where they had at once settled down to a thrifty career, surrounded with quite enough comforts for all reasonable demands, and a few simple luxuries. w---- declared the kitchen to be a model of neatness and convenience; and the sitting-room, where we passed the evening with our modest entertainers,--who appeared quite well posted on current news of general importance,--showed evidences of being in daily use. they were devout catholics, and i was pleased to find the patriarch drifting down the river of time with a heartfelt appreciation of the benefits of democracy, fully cognizant of what american institutions had done for him and his. immigrating in the noon-tide of life and settling in a german neighborhood, he had found no need and had no inclination to learn our language. but he had prospered from the start, had secured for his children a good education at the common schools, had imbued them with the spirit of patriotism, had seen them marry happily and with a bright future, and at night he never retired without uttering a bedside prayer of gratitude that god had turned his footsteps to blessed america. as the old man told me his tale, with his daughter's hands resting lovingly in his while she served as our interpreter, and contrasted the hard lot of a german peasant with the independence of thought and speech and action vouchsafed the german-american farmer, who can win competence in a state of freedom, i felt a thrill of patriotism that would have been the making of a fourth-of-july orator. i wished that thousands such as he originally was, still dragging out an existence in the fatherland, could have listened to my aged friend and followed in his footsteps. chapter iv. the half-way house. the spin down to roscoe next morning was delightful in every respect. the air was just sharp enough for vigorous exercise. these were the pleasantest hours we had yet spent. the blisters that had troubled us for the first three days were hardening into callosities, and arm and back muscles, which at first were sore from the unusually heavy strain upon them, at last were strengthened to their work. thereafter we felt no physical inconvenience from our self-imposed task. at night, after a pull of eleven or twelve hours, relieved only by the time spent in lunching, in which we hourly alternated at the oars and paddle, slumber came as a most welcome visitation, while the morning ever found us as fresh as at the start. let those afflicted with insomnia try this sort of life. my word for it, they will not be troubled so long as the canoeing continues. every muscle of the body moves responsive to each pull of the oars or sweep of the paddle; while the mental faculties are kept continually on the alert, watching for shallows, snags, and rapids, in which operation a few days' experience will render one quite expert, though none the less cautious. as we get farther down into the illinois country, the herds of live-stock increase in size and number. cattle may be seen by hundreds at one view, dotted all over the neighboring hills and meadows, or dreamily standing in the cooling stream at sultry noonday. sheep, in immense flocks, bleat in deafening unison, the ewes and their young being particularly demonstrative at our appearance, and sometimes excitedly following us along the banks. droves of black hogs and shoats are ploughing the sward in their search for sweet roots, or lying half-buried in the wet sand. horses, in familiar groups, quickly lift their heads in startled wonder as the canopied canoe glides silently by,--then suddenly wheel, kick up their heels, sound a snort of alarm, and dash off at a thundering gallop, clods of turf filling the air behind them. there are charming groves and parks and treeless downs, and the river cuts through the alluvial soil to a depth of eight and ten feet, throwing up broad beaches on either side. at roscoe, three or four miles below our morning's starting-point, there is a collection of three or four neat farm-houses, each with its spinning windmill. latham station, nine miles below rockton, was reached at ten o'clock. the post-office is called owen. there is a smart little depot on the chicago, milwaukee, and st. paul railway line, two general stores, and a half-dozen cottages, with a substantial-looking creamery, where we obtained buttermilk drawn fresh from one of the mammoth churns. the concern manufactures from three hundred to nine hundred pounds per day, according to the season, shipping chiefly to new york city. leaning over the hand-rail which fences off the "making" room, and gossiping with the young man in charge, i conjured up visions of the days when, as a boy on the farm, i used to spend many weary, almost tearful hours, pounding an old crock churn, in which the butter would always act like a balky horse and refuse to "come" until after a long series of experimental coaxing. nowadays, rustic youths luxuriously ride behind the plough, the harrow, the cultivator, the horse-rake, the hay-loader, and the self-binding harvester, while the butter-making is farmed out to a factory where the thing is done by steam. the farmer's boy of the future will live in a world darkened only by the frown of the district schoolmaster and the intermittent round of stable chores. ______________________________________ | | | fare. | | | | foot passengere cts. | | man & horse ct. | | single carriage c. | | double " c | | each passinger c | | | | night raites double fare. | | | | all persons | | are cautioned | | againts useing | | this boat with out | | permistion from | | the owners | |____________________________________| at latham station we encountered the first ferry-boat on our trip,--a flat-bottomed scow with side-rails, attached by ropes and pulleys to a suspended wire cable, and working diagonally, with the force of the current. a sign conspicuously displayed on the craft bore the above legend. from the time we had entered illinois, the large, graceful, white blossoms of the pennsylvanian anemone and the pink and white fringe of the erigeron canadense had appeared in great abundance upon the river banks, while the wild prairie rose lent a delicate beauty and fragrance to the scene. on sandy knolls, where in early spring the anemone patens and crowfoot violets had thrived in profusion, were now to be seen the geum triflorum and the showy yellow puccoon; the long-flowered puccoon, with its delicate pale yellow, crape-like blossom, was just putting in an appearance; and little white, star-shaped flowers, which were strangers to us of wisconsin, fairly dotted the green hillsides, mingled in striking contrast with dwarf blue mint. bevies of great black crows, sitting in the tops of dead willow-trees or circling around them, rent the air with sepulchral squawks. men and boys were cultivating in the cornfields, the prevalent drought painfully evidenced by the clouds of gray dust which enveloped them and their teams as they stirred up the brittle earth. there was now a fine breeze astern, and the awning, abandoned during the head winds of the day before, was again welcomed as the sun mounted to the zenith. at . p. m., we were in busy rockford, where the banks are twenty or twenty-five feet high, with rolling prairies stretching backward to the horizon, except where here and there a wooded ridge intervenes. rockford is the metropolis of the valley of the rock. it has twenty-two thousand inhabitants, with many elegant mansions visible from the river, and evidences upon every hand of that prosperity which usually follows in the train of varied manufacturing enterprises. there are numerous mills and factories along both sides of the river, and a protracted inspection of the portage facilities was necessary before we could decide on which bank to make our carry. the right was chosen. the portage was somewhat over two ordinary city blocks in length, up a steep incline and through a road-way tunnel under a great flouring mill. we had made nearly half the distance, and were resting for a moment, when a mill-driver kindly offered the use of his wagon, which was gratefully accepted. we were soon spinning down the tail of the race, a half-dozen millers waving a "chautauqua salute" with as many dusty flour-bags, and in ten minutes more had left rockford out of sight. several miles below, there are a half-dozen forested islands in a bunch, some of them four or five acres in extent, and we puzzled over which channel to take,--the best of them abounding in shallows. the one down which the current seemed to set the strongest was selected, but we had not proceeded over half a mile before the trees on the banks began to meet in arches overhead, and it was evident that we were ascending a tributary. it proved to be the cherry river, emptying into the main stream from the east. the wind, now almost due-west, had driven the waves into the mouth of the cherry, so that we mistook this surface movement for the current. coming to a railway bridge, which we knew from our map did not cross the rock, our course was retraced, and after some difficulty with snags and gravel-spits, we were once more upon our proper highway, trending to the southwest. supper was eaten upon the edge of a large island, several miles farther down stream, in the shade of two wide-spreading locusts. opposite are some fine, eroded sandstone palisades, which formation had been frequently met with during the day,--sometimes on both sides of the river, but generally on the left bank, which is, as a rule, the most picturesque along the entire course. it was still so cold when evening shadows thickened that camping out, with our meagre preparations for it, seemed impracticable; so we pushed on and kept a sharp lookout for some friendly farm-house at which to quarter for the night. the houses in the thickly-wooded bottoms, however, were generally quite forbidding in appearance, and the sun had gone down before we sighted a well-built stone dwelling amid a clump of graceful evergreens. it seemed, from the river, to be the very embodiment of comfortable neatness; but upon ascending the gentle slope and fighting off two or three mangy curs which came snarling at our heels, we found the structure merely a relic of gentility. there was scarcely a whole pane of glass in the house, there were eight or ten wretchedly dirty and ragged children, the parents were repulsive in appearance and manner, and a glimpse of the interior presented a picture of squalor which would have shocked a city missionary. the stately stone house was a den of the most abject and shiftless poverty, the like of which one could seldom see in the slums of a metropolis. these people were in the midst of a splendid farming country, had an abundance of pure air and water at command, and there seemed to be no excuse for their condition. drink and laziness were doubtless the besetting sins in this uncanny home. making a pretense of inquiring the distance to byron, the next village below, we hurried from the accursed spot. a half-hour later we reached the high bridge of the chicago, milwaukee and st. paul railway, above byron, and ran our bow on a little beach at the base of the left bank, which is here thirty feet high. a section-man had a little cabin hard by, and his gaunt, talkative wife, with a chubby little boy by her side, had been keenly watching our approach from her garden-fence. she greeted us with a shrill but cheery voice as we clambered up a zigzag path and joined her upon the edge of the prairie. "good ev'nin', folks! whar'n earth d' ye come from?" we enlightened her in a few words. "don't mean t' say ye come all the way from weesconsin a' down here in that thing?" pointing down at the canoe, which certainly looked quite small, at that depth, in the dim twilight. "certainly; why not?" "ye'll git drowndid, an' i'm not mistakin, afore ye git to byron." "river dangerous, ma'am?" "dang'rous ain't no name for 't. there was a young feller drowndid at this here bridge las' spring. the young feller he worked at the bridge-mendin', bein' a carpenter,--he called himself a carpenter, but he warn't no great fist at carpenterin', an' i know it,--and he boarded up at byron. a 'nsurance agint kim 'long and got rollins,--the young feller his name was abe rollins, an' he was a bach,--to promise to 'sure his life for a thousand dollars, which was to go t' his sister, what takes in washin', an' her man ran away from her las' year an' nobody knows where he is,--which i says is good riddance, but she takes on as though she had los' somebody worth cryin' over: there's no accountin' for tastes. the agint says to rollins to go over to the doctor's of'c' to git 'xamined and rollins says, 'no, i ain't agoin' to git 'xamined till i clean off; i'll go down an' take a swim at the bridge and then come back and strip for the doctor.' an' rollins he took his swim and got sucked down inter a hole just yonder down there, by the openin' of stillman's creek, and he was a corpse when they hauled him out, down off byron; an' he never hollered once but jist sunk like a stone with a cramp; an' his folks never got no 'nsurance money at all, for lackin' the doctor's c'tificate. an' it's heaps o' folks git drowndid in this river, an' nobody ever hears of 'em agin; an' i wouldn't no more step foot in that boat nor the biggest ship on the sea, an' i don't see how you can do it, ma'am!" no doubt the good woman would have rattled on after this fashion for half the night, but we felt obliged, owing to the rapidly increasing darkness, to interrupt her with geographical inquiries. she assured us that byron was distant some five or six miles by river, with, so far as she had heard, many shallows, whirlpools, and snags _en route_; while by land the village was but a mile and a quarter across the prairie, from the bridge. we accordingly made fast for the night where we had landed, placed our heaviest baggage in the tidy kitchen-sitting-room-parlor of our voluble friend, and trudged off over the fields to byron,--a solitary light in a window and the occasional practice-note of a brass band, borne to us on the light western breeze, being our only guides. after a deal of stumbling over a rough and ill-defined path, which we could distinguish by the sense of feeling alone, we finally reached the exceedingly quiet little village, and by dint of inquiry from house to house,--in most of which the denizens seemed preparing to retire for the night,--found the inn which had been recommended by the section-man's wife as the best in town. it was the only one. there were several commercial travelers in the place, and the hostelry was filled. but the landlord kindly surrendered to us his own well-appointed chamber, above an empty store where the village band was tuning up for decoration day. it seemed appropriate enough that there should be music to greet us, for we were now one hundred and thirty-four miles from madison, and practically half through our voyage to the mississippi. chapter v. grand detour folks. we tramped back to the bridge in high spirits next morning, over the flower-strewn prairie. the section-man's wife was on hand, with her entire step-laddered brood of six, to see us off. as we carried down our traps to the beach and repacked, she kept up a continuous strain of talk, giving us a most edifying review of her life, and especially the particulars of how she and her "man" had first romantically met, while he was a gravel-train hand on a far western railroad, and she the cook in a portable construction-barracks. stillman's creek opens into the rock from the east, through a pleasant glade, a few rods below the bridge. we took a pull up this historic tributary for a half-mile or more. it is a muddy stream, some two and a half rods wide, cutting down for a half-dozen feet through the black soil. the shores are generally well fringed with heavy timber, especially upon the northern bank, while the land to the south and southwest stretches upward, in gentle slopes, to a picturesque rolling prairie, abounding in wooded knolls. it was in the large grove on the north bank, near its junction with the rock, that black hawk, in the month of may, , parleyed with the pottawattomies. it was here that on the th of that month he learned of the treachery of stillman's militiamen, and at once made that famous sally with his little band of forty braves which resulted in the rout of the cowardly whites, who fled pell-mell over the prairie toward dixon, asserting that black hawk and two thousand blood-thirsty warriors were sweeping northern illinois with the besom of destruction. the country round about appears to have undergone no appreciable change in the half-century intervening between that event and to-day. the topographical descriptions given in contemporaneous accounts of stillman's flight will hold good now, and we were readily able to pick out the points of interest on the old battlefield. returning to the rock, we made excellent progress. the atmosphere was bracing; and there being a favoring northwest breeze, our awning was stretched over a hoop for a sail. the banks were now steep inclines of white sand and gravel. it was like going through a railroad cut. but in ascending the sides, as we did occasionally, to secure supplies from farm-houses or refill our canteen with fresh water, there were found broad expanses of rolling prairie. the farm establishments increase in number and prosperity. windmills may be counted by the scores, the cultivation of enormous cornfields is everywhere in progress, and cattle are more numerous than ever. three or four miles above oregon the banks rise to the dignity of hills, which come sweeping down "with verdure clad" to the very water's edge, and present an inspiring picture, quite resembling some of the most charming stretches of the hudson. at the entrance to this lovely vista we encountered a logy little pleasure-steamer anchored in the midst of the stream, which is here nearly half of a mile wide, for the river now perceptibly broadens. the captain, a ponderous old sea-dog, wearing a cowboy's hat and having the face of an operatic pirate, with a huge pipe between his black teeth, sat lounging on the bulwark, watching the force of the current, into which he would listlessly expectorate. he was at first inclined to be surly, as we hauled alongside and checked our course; but gradually softened down as we drew him out in conversation, and confided to us that he had in earlier days "sailed the salt water," a circumstance of which he seemed very proud. he also gave us some "pointers on the lay o' the land," as he called them, for our future guidance down the river,--one of which was that there were "dandy sceneries" below oregon, in comparison with which we had thus far seen nothing worthy of note. as for himself, he said that his place on the neighboring shore was connected by telephone with oregon, and his steamer frequently transported pleasure parties to points of interest above the dam. ganymede spring is on the southeast bank, at the base of a lofty sandstone bluff, a mile or so above oregon. from the top of the bluff, which is ascended by a succession of steep flights of scaffolding stairs, a magnificent bird's-eye view is attainable of one of the finest river and forest landscapes in the mississippi basin. the grounds along the riverside at the base are laid out in graceful carriage drives; and over the head of a neatly hewn basin, into which gushes the copious spring, is a marble slab thus inscribed: _______________________________________________ | | | ganymede's springs, | | | | named by | | | | margeret fuller (countess d. ossoli,) | | | | who named this bluff | | | | eagle's nest, | | | | & beneath the cedars on its crest wrote | | | | "ganymede to his eagle," | | | | july , . | |_____________________________________________| oregon was reached just before noon. a walk through the business quarter revealed a thrifty, but oldish-looking town of about two thousand inhabitants. the portage on the east side, around a flouring-mill dam, involved a hard pull up the gravelly bank thirty feet high, and a haul of two blocks' length along a dusty street. there was a fine stretch of eroded palisades in front of the island on which we lunched. the color effect was admirable,--patches of gray, brown, white, and old gold, much corroded with iron. vines of many varieties dangle from earth-filled crevices, and swallows by the hundreds occupy the dimples neatly hollowed by the action of the water in some ancient period when the stream was far broader and deeper than now. but at times, even in our day, the rock is a raging torrent. the condition of the trees along the river banks and on the thickly-strewn island pastures, shows that not many months before it must have been on a wild rampage, for the great trunks are barked by the ice to the height of fifteen feet above the present water-level. everywhere, on banks and islands, are the evidences of disastrous floods, and the ponderous ice-breakers above the bridges give one an awesome notion of the condition of affairs at such a time. farmers assured us that in the spring of the water was at the highest stage ever recorded in the history of the valley. many of the railway bridges barely escaped destruction, while the numerous river ferries and the low country bridges in the bayous were destroyed by scores. the banks were overflowed for miles together, and back in the country for long distances, causing the hasty removal of families and live-stock from the bottoms; while ice jams, forming at the heads of the islands, would break, and the shattered floes go sweeping down with terrific force, crushing the largest trees like reeds, tearing away fences and buildings, covering islands and meadows with deep deposits of sand and mud, blazing their way through the forested banks, and creating sad havoc on every hand. we were amply convinced, by the thousands of broken trees which littered our route, the snags, the mud-baked islands, the frequent stretches of sadly demoralized bank that had not yet had time to reweave its charitable mantle of verdure, that the rock, on such a spring "tear," must indeed be a picture of chaos broken loose. this explained why these hundreds of beautiful and spacious islands--many of them with charming combinations of forest and hillock and meadow, and occasionally enclosing pretty ponds blushing with water-lilies--are none of them inhabited, but devoted to the pasture of cattle, who swim or ford the intervening channels, according to the stage of the flood; also why the picturesque bottoms on the main shore are chiefly occupied by the poorest class of farmers, who eke out their meagre incomes with the spoils of the gun and line. it was a quarter of five when we beached at the upper ferry-landing at grand detour. it is a little, tumble-down village of one or two small country stores, a church, and a dozen modest cottages; there is also, on the river front, a short row of deserted shops, their paintless battlement-fronts in a sadly collapsed condition, while hard by are the ruins of two or three dismantled mills. the settlement is on a bit of prairie at the base of the preliminary flourish of the "big bend" of the rock,--hence the name, grand detour, a reminiscence of the early french explorers. the foot of the peninsula is but half a mile across, while the distance around by river to the lower ferry, on the other side of the village is four miles. having learned that the bottoms below here were, for a long distance, peculiarly gloomy and but sparsely inhabited, we thought it best to pass the night at grand detour. bespeaking accommodations at the tavern and post-office combined, we rowed around the bend to the lower landing, through some lovely stretches of river scenery, in which bold palisades and delightful little meadows predominated. the walk back to the village was through a fine park of elms. the stage was just in from dixon, with the mail. there was an eager little knot of villagers in the cheerful sitting-room of our homelike inn, watching the stout landlady as she distributed it in a checker-board rank of glass-faced boxes fenced off in front of a sunny window. it did not appear that many of those who overlooked the distribution of the mail had been favored by their correspondents. they were chiefly concerned in seeing who did get letters and papers, and in "passin' the time o' day," as gossiping is called in rural communities. seated in a darkened corner, waiting patiently for supper, the announcement of which was an hour or more in coming, we were much amused at the mirror of local events which was unconsciously held up for us by these loungers of both sexes and all ages, who fairly filled the room, and oftentimes waxed hot in controversy. the central theme of conversation was the preparations under way for decoration day, which was soon to arrive. grand detour was to be favored with a speaker from dixon,--"a reg'lar major from the war, gents, an' none o' yer m'lish fellers!" an enthusiastic old man with a crutch persisted in announcing. there were to be services at the church, and some exercises at the cemetery, where lie buried the half-dozen honored dead, grand detour's sacrifice upon the altar of the union. the burning question seemed to be whether the village preacher would consent to offer prayer upon the occasion, if the church choir insisted on being accompanied on the brand-new cabinet organ which the congregation had voted to purchase, but to which the pastor and one of the leading deacons were said to be bitterly opposed, as smacking of worldliness and antichrist. only the evening before, this deacon, armed with a sledgehammer and rope, had been seen to go to the sanctuary in company with his "hired man," and enter through one of the windows, which they pried up for the purpose. a good gossip, who lived hard by, closely watched such extraordinary proceedings. there was a great noise within, then some planks were pitched out of the window, soon followed by the deacon and his man. the window was shut down, the planks thrown atop of the horse-shed roof, and the men disappeared. investigation in the morning by the witness revealed the fact that the choir-seats and the organ-platform had been torn down and removed. here was a pretty how d' do! the wiry, raspy little woman, with her gray finger-curls and withered, simpering smile, had, with great forbearance, kept her choice bit of news to herself till "post-office time." sitting in a big rocking-chair close to the delivery window, knitting vigorously on an elongated stocking, she demurely asserted that she "never wanted to say nothin' 'gin' nobody, or to hurt nobody's feelin's," and then detailed the entire circumstance to the patrons of the office as they came in. the excitement created by the story, which doubtless lost nothing in the telling, was at fever-heat. we were sorely tempted to remain over till decoration day,--when, it was freely predicted, there "would be some folks as'd wish they'd never been born,"--and see the outcome of this tempest in a teapot. but our programme, unfortunately, would not admit of such a diversion. others came and went, but the gossipy little body with the gray curls rocked on, holding converse with both post-mistress and public, keeping a keen eye on the character of the mail matter obtained by the villagers and neighboring farmers, and freely commenting on it all; so that new-comers were kept quite well-informed as to the correspondence of those who had just departed. a sad-eyed little woman in rusty black modestly slipped in, and was handed out a much-creased and begrimed envelope, which she nervously clutched. she was hurrying silently away, when the gossip sharply exclaimed, "good lands, cynthi' prescott! some folks don't know a body when they meet. 'spose ye've been hearin' from jim at last. i'd been thinkin' 't was about time ye got a letter from his hand, ef he war ever goin' t' write at all. tell ye, cynthi' prescott, ye're too indulgent on that man o' yourn! ef i--" but cynthia prescott, turning her black, deep-sunken eyes to her inquisitor, with a piteous, tearful look, as though stung to the quick, sidled out backward through the wire-screen door, which sprung closed with a vicious bang, and i saw her hurrying down the village street firmly grasping at her bosom what the mail had brought her,--probably a brutal demand for more money, from a worthless husband, who was wrecking his life-craft on some far-away shore. "goodness me! but the gilberts is a-puttin' on style!" ejaculated the village censor, as a rather smart young horseman went out with a bunch of letters, and a little packet tied up in red twine. "that there was vis'tin' keerds from the printer's shop in dixon, an' cost a dollar; can't fool me! there's some folks as hev to be leavin' keerds on folks's centre-tables when they goes makin' calls, for fear folks will be a-forgettin' their names. when i go a-callin', i go a-visitin' and take my work along an' stop an' hev a social cup o' tea; an' they ain't a-goin' to forgit for awhile, that i dropped in on 'em, neither. this way they hev down in dixon, what i hear of, of ringin' at a bell and settin' down with yer bonnet on and sayin', 'how d' do,' an' a 'pretty well, i thank yer,' and jumpin' up as if the fire bell was ringin' and goin' on through the whole n'ighberhood as ef ye're on springs, an' then a-trancin' back home and braggin' how many calls ye've made,--i ain't got no use for that; it'll do for dixon folks, what catch the style from chicargy, an' they git 't from paris each year, i'm told, but i ain't no use for 't. mebbe ol' man gilbert is made o' money,--his women folks act so, with all this a-apein' the clays, who's been gettin' visitin' keerds all the way from chicargy, which they ordered of a book agint last fall, with gilt letters an' roses an' sich like in the corners. an' 'twas clay's brother-in-law as tol' me he never did see such carryin's-on over at the old house, with letter-writin' paper sopped in cologne, an' lace curtains in the bed-room winders. an' ye can't tell me but the gilberts, too, is a-goin' to the dogs, with their paper patterns from dixon, and dress samples from a big shop in chicargy, which i seen from the picture on the envelope was as big as all grand detour, an' both ferry-landin's thrown in. grand detour fashi'ns ain't good 'nough for some folks, i reckon." and thus the busy-tongued woman discoursed in a vinegary tone upon the characteristics of grand detour folks, as illustrated by the nature of the evening mail, frequently interspersing her remarks with a hearty disclaimer of anything malicious in her temperament. at last, however, the supper-bell rang; the doughty postmistress, who had been remarkably discreet throughout all this village tirade, having darted in and out between the kitchen and the office, attending to her dual duties, locked the postal gate with a snap, and asked her now solitary patron, "anything i can do for you, maria?" the gossip gathered up her knitting, hastily averred that she had merely dropped in for her weekly paper, but now remembered that this was not the day for it, and ambled off, to reload with venom for the next day's mail. after supper we walked about the peaceful, pretty, grass-grown village. shearing was in progress at the barn of the inn, and the streets were filled with bleating sheep and nodding billy-goats. the place presented many evidences of former prosperity, and we were told that a dozen years before it had boasted of a plough factory, two or three flouring-mills, and a good water-power. but the railroad that it was expected would come to grand detour had touched dixon instead, with the result that the village industries had been removed to dixon, the dam had fallen in, and now there were less than three hundred inhabitants between the two ferries. when one of the store-keepers told me he had practically no country trade, but that his customers were the villagers alone, i was led to inquire what supported these three hundred people, who had no industries among them, no river traffic, owing to customary low water in summer, and who seemed to live on each other. many of the villagers, i found, are laborers who work upon the neighboring farms and maintain their families here; a few are farmers, the corners of whose places run down to the village; others there are who either own or rent or "share" farms in the vicinity, going out to their work each day, much of their live stock and crops being housed at their village homes; there are half a dozen retired farmers, who have either sold out their places or have tenants upon them, and live in the village for sociability's sake, or to allow their children the benefit of the excellent local school. mingled with these people are a shoemaker, a tailor, a storekeeper, who live upon the necessities of their neighbors. two fishermen spend the summer here, in a tent, selling their daily catch to the villagers and neighboring farmers and occasionally shipping by the daily mail-stage to dixon, fourteen miles away. the preacher and his family are modestly supported; a young physician wins a scanty subsistence; and for considerably over half the year the schoolmaster shares with them what honors and sorrows attach to these positions of rural eminence. our pleasant-spoken host was the driver of the dixon stage, as well as star-route mail contractor, adding the conduct of a farm to his other duties. with his wife as postmistress, and a pretty, buxom daughter, who waited on our table and was worth her weight in gold, grand detour folks said that he was bound to be a millionnaire yet. as grand detour lives, so live thousands of just such little rural villages all over the country. viewed from the railway track or river channel, they appear to have been once larger than they are to-day. the sight of the unpainted houses, the ruined factory, the empty stores, the grass and weeds in the street, the lack-lustre eyes of the idlers, may induce one to imagine that here is the home of hopeless poverty and despair. but although the railroad which they expected never came; or the railroad which did come went on and scheduled the place as a flag station; still, there is a certain inherent vitality here, an undefined something that holds these people together, a certain degree of hopefulness which cannot rise to the point of ambition, a serene satisfaction with the things that are. grand detour folks, and folks like them, are as blissfully content as the denizens of chicago. chapter vi. an ancient mariner. the clock in a neighboring kitchen was striking six, as we reached the lower ferry-landing. the grass in the streets and under the old elms was as wet with dew as though there had been a heavy shower during the night. the village fishermen were just pulling in to the little pier, returning from an early morning trip to their "traut-lines" down stream. in a long wooden cage, which they towed astern, was a fifty-pound sturgeon, together with several large cat-fish. they kindly hauled their cage ashore, to show us the monsters, which they said would probably be shipped, alive, to a chicago restaurant which they occasionally furnished with curiosities in their line. these fishermen were rough-looking fellows in their battered hats and ragged, dirty overcoats, with faces sadly in need of water and a shave. they had a sad, pinched-up appearance as well, as though the dense fog, which was but just now yielding to the influence of the sun, had penetrated their bones and given them the chills. on engaging them in friendly conversation about their calling, they exhibited good manners and some knowledge of the outer world. their business, they said, was precarious and, as we could well see, involved much exposure and hardship. sometimes it meant a start at midnight, often amid rainstorms, fogs, or chilling weather, with a hard pull back again up-stream,--for their lines were all of them below grand detour; but to return with an empty boat, sometimes their luck, was harder yet. knocking about in this way, all of the year around,--for their winters were similarly spent upon the lower waters and bayous of the mississippi,--neither of them was ever thoroughly well. one was consumptively inclined, he told me, and being an old soldier, was receiving a small pension. a claim agent had him in hand, however, and his thoughts ran largely upon the prospects of an increase by special legislation. he seemed to have but little doubt that he would ultimately succeed. when he came into this looked-for fortune, he said, he would "quit knockin' 'round an' killin' myself fishin'," settle down in grand detour for the balance of his days, raising his own "garden sass, pigs, and cow;" and some fine day would make a trip in his boat to the "old home in injianny, whar i was raised an' 'listed in the war." his face fairly gleamed with pleasure as he thus dwelt upon the flowers of fancy which the pension agent had cultivated within him; and w---- sympathetically exclaimed, when we had swung into the stream and bidden farewell to these men who followed the calling of the apostles, that were she a congressman she would certainly vote for the fisherman's claim, and make happy one more heart in grand detour. now commences the great bend of the rock river. the water circuit is fourteen miles, the distance gained being but six by land. the stream is broad and shallow, between palisades densely surmounted with trees and covered thick with vines; great willow islands freely intersperse the course; everywhere are evidences of ice-floes, which have blazed the trees and strewn the islands with fallen trunks and driftwood,--a tornado could not have created more general havoc. the visible houses, few of them inviting in appearance, are miles apart. as had been foretold at the village, the outlook for lodgings in this dismal region is not at all encouraging. it was well that we had stopped at grand detour. below the bend, where the country is more open, though the banks are still deep-cut, the highway to dixon skirts the river, and for several miles we kept company with the stage. dixon was sighted at o'clock. a circus had pitched its tents upon the northern bank, just above the dam, near where we landed for the carry, and a crowd of small boys came swarming down the bank to gaze upon us, possibly imagining, at first, that our outfit was a part of the show. they accompanied us, at a respectful distance, as we pulled the canoe up a grassy incline and down through the vine-clad arches of a picturesque old ruin of a mill. below the dam, we rowed over to the town, about where the famous pioneer ferry used to be. it was in the spring of that john boles opened a trail from peoria to galena, by the way of the present locality of dixon, thus shortening a trail which had been started by one kellogg the year before, but crossed the rock a few miles above. the site of dixon at once sprang into wide popularity as a crossing-place, indians being employed to do the ferrying. their manner was simple. lashing two canoes abreast, the wheels of one side of a wagon were placed in one canoe and the opposite wheels in the other. the horses were made to swim behind. in a peoria man named begordis erected a small shanty here and had half finished a ferry-boat when the indians, not favoring competition, burned the craft on its stocks and advised begordis to return to peoria; being a wise man, he returned. the next year, joe ogie, a frenchman, one of a race that the red men loved, and having a squaw for his wife, was permitted to build a scow, and thenceforth indians were no longer needed there as common carriers. by the time of the black hawk war, dixon, from whom the subsequent settlement was named, ran the ferry, and the crossing station had henceforth a name in history. a trail in those early days was quite as important as a railroad is to-day; settlements sprang up along the improved "kellogg's trail," and dixon was the centre of interest in all northern illinois. indeed, it being for years the only point where the river could be crossed by ferry, dixon was as important a landmark to the settlers of the southern half of wisconsin who desired to go to chicago, as any within their own territory.[ ] the dixon of to-day shelters four thousand inhabitants and has two or three busy mills; although it is noticeable that along the water-power there are some half-dozen mill properties that have been burned, torn down, or deserted, which does not look well for the manufacturing prospects of the place. the land along the river banks is a flat prairie some half-mile in width, with rolling country beyond, sprinkled with oak groves. the banks are of black, sandy loam, from twelve to twenty feet high, based with sandy beaches. the shores are now and then cut with deep ravines, at the mouths of which are fine, gravelly beaches, sometimes forming considerable spits. these indicate that the dry, barren gullies, the gutters of the hillocks, while innocent enough in a drought, sometimes rise to the dignity of torrents and suddenly pour great volumes of drainage into the rapidly filling river,--so often described in the journals of early travelers through this region, as "the dark and raging rock." this sort of scenery, varied by occasional limestone palisades,--the interesting and picturesque feature of the rock, from which it derived its name at the hands of the aborigines,--extends down to beyond sterling. this city, reached at . p. m., is a busy place of ten thousand inhabitants, engaged in miscellaneous manufactures. our portage was over the south and dry end of the dam. we were helped by three or four bright, intelligent boys, who were themselves carrying over a punt, preparatory to a fishing expedition below. amid the hundreds of boys whom we met at our various portages, these well-bred sterling lads were the only ones who even offered their assistance. very likely, however, the reason may be traced to the fact that this was saturday, and a school holiday. the boys at the week-day carries were the riff-raff, who are allowed to loaf upon the river-banks when they should be at their school-room desks. while mechanically pulling a "fisherman's stroke" down stream i was dreamily reflecting upon the necessity of enforced popular education, when w----, vigilant at the steersman's post, mischievously broke in upon the brown study with, "como's next station! twenty minutes for supper!" and sure enough, it was a quarter past six, and there was como nestled upon the edge of the high prairie-bank. i went up into the hamlet to purchase a quart of milk for supper, and found it a little dead-alive community of perhaps one hundred and twenty-five people. there is the brick shell of a fire-gutted factory, with several abandoned stores, a dozen houses from which the paint had long since scaled, a rather smart-looking schoolhouse, and two brick dwellings of ancient pattern,--the homes of well-to-do farmers; while here and there were grass-grown depressions, which i was told were once the cellars of houses that had been moved away. on the return to the beach a bevy of open-mouthed women and children accompanied me, plying questions with a simplicity so rare that there was no thought of impertinence. w---- was talking with the old gray-haired ferryman, who had been transporting a team across as we had landed beside his staging. the old man had stayed behind, avowedly to mend his boat, with a stone for a hammer, but it was quite apparent that curiosity kept him, rather than the needs of his scow. he confided to us that como--which was indeed prettily situated upon a bend of the river--had once been a prosperous town. but the railroad went to some rival place, and--the familiar story--the dam at como rotted, and the village fell into its present dilapidated state. it is the fate of many a small but ambitious town upon a river. settled originally because of the river highway, the railroads--that have nearly killed the business of water transportation--did not care to go there because it was too far out of the short-cut path selected by the engineers between two more prominent points. thus the community is "side-tracked,"--to use a bit of railway slang; and a side-tracked town becomes in the new civilization--which cares nothing for the rivers, but clusters along the iron ways--a town "as dead as a door-nail." we had luncheon on a high bank just out of sight of como. by the time we had reached a point three or four miles below the village it was growing dark, and time to hunt for shelter. while i walked, or rather ran, along the north bank looking for a farm-house, w---- guided the canoe down a particularly rapid current. it was really too dark to prosecute the search with convenience. i was several times misled by clumps of trees, and fruitlessly climbed over board or crawled under barbed-wire fences, and often stumbled along the dusty highway which at times skirted the bank. it was over a mile before an undoubted windmill appeared, dimly silhouetted against the blackening sky above a dense growth of river-timber a quarter of a mile down the stream. a whistle, and w---- shot the craft into the mouth of a black ravine, and clambered up the bank, at the serious risk of torn clothing from the thicket of blackberry-vines and locust saplings which covered it. together we emerged upon the highway, determined to seek the windmill on foot; for it would have been impossible to sight the place from the river, which was now, from the overhanging trees on both shores and islands, as dark as a cavern. just as we stepped upon the narrow road--which we were only able to distinguish because the dust was lighter in color than the vegetation--a farm-team came rumbling along over a neighboring culvert, and rolled into view from behind a fringe of bushes. the horses jumped and snorted as they suddenly sighted our dark forms, and began to plunge. the women gave a mild shriek, and awakened a small child which one of them carried in her arms. i essayed to snatch the bits of the frightened horses to prevent them from running away, for the women had dropped the lines, while w---- called out asking if there was a good farm-house where the windmill was. the team quieted down under a few soothing strokes; but the women persisted in screaming and uttering incoherent imprecations in german, while the child fairly roared. so i returned the lines to the woman in charge, and we bade them "guten nacht." as they whipped up their animals and hurried away, with fearful backward glances, it suddenly occurred to us that we had been taken for footpads. we were so much amused at our adventure, as we walked along, almost groping our way, that we failed to notice a farm-gate on the river side of the road, until a chorus of dogs, just over the fence, arrested our attention. a half-dozen human voices were at once heard calling back the animals. a light shone in thin streaks through a black fringe of lilac-bushes, and in front of these was the gate. opening the creaky structure, we advanced cautiously up what we felt to be a gravel walk, under an arch of evergreens and lilacs, with the paddle ready as a club, in case of another dog outbreak. but there was no need of it, and we soon emerged into a flood of light, which proceeded from a shadeless lamp within an open window. it was a spacious white farm-house. upon the "stoop" of an l were standing, in attitudes of expectancy, a stout, well-fed, though rather sinister-expressioned elderly man, with a long gray beard, and his raw-boned, overworked wife, with two fair but dissatisfied-looking daughters, and several sons, ranging from twelve to twenty years. a few moments of explanation dispelled the suspicious look with which we had been greeted, and it was soon agreed that we should, for a consideration, be entertained for the night and over sunday; although the good woman protested that her house was "topsy-turvy, all torn up" with house-cleaning,--which excuse, by the way, had become quite familiar by this time, having been current at every house we had thus far entered upon our journey. bringing our canoe down to the farmer's bank and hauling it up into the bushes, we returned through the orchard to the house, laden with baggage. our host proved to be a famous story-teller. his tales, often munchausenese, were inclined to be ghastly, and he had an o'erweening fondness for inconsequential detail, like some authors of serial tales, who write against space and tax the patience of their readers to its utmost endurance. but while one may skip the dreary pages of the novelist, the circumstantial story-teller must be borne with patiently, though the hours lag with leaden heels. in earlier days the old man had been something of a traveler, having journeyed to illinois by steamboat on the upper lakes, from "ol' york state;" another time he went down the mississippi river to natchez, working his way as a deck hand; but the crowning event of his career was his having, as a driver, accompanied a cattle-train to new york city. a few years ago he tumbled down a well and was hauled up something of a cripple; so that his occupation chiefly consists in sitting around the house in an easy-chair, or entertaining the crowd at the cross-roads store with sturdy tales of his adventures by land and sea, spiced with vigorous opinions on questions of politics and theology. the garrulity of age, a powerful imagination, and a boasting disposition are his chief stock in trade. propped up in his great chair, with one leg resting upon a lounge and the other aiding his iron-ferruled cane in pounding the floor by way of punctuating his remarks, "that ancient mariner" "held us with his glittering eye; we could not choose but hear." his tales were chiefly of shooting and stabbing scrapes, drownings and hangings that he claimed to have seen, dwelling upon each incident with a blood-curdling particularity worthy of the reporter of a sensational metropolitan journal. the ancient man must have fairly walked in blood through the greater part of his days; while from the number of corpses that had been fished out of the river, at the head of a certain island at the foot of his orchard, and "laid out" in his best bedroom by the coroner, we began to feel as though we had engaged quarters at a morgue. it was painfully evident that these recitals were "chestnuts" in the house of our entertainer. the poor old lady had a tired-out, unhappy appearance, the dissatisfied-looking daughters yawned, and the sons talked, _sotto voce_, on farm matters and neighborhood gossip. finally, we tore away, much to the relief of every one but the host, and were ushered with much ceremony into the ghostly bed-chamber, the scene of so many coroner's inquests. i must confess to uncanny dreams that night,--confused visions of rock river giving up innumerable corpses, which i was compelled to assist in "laying out" upon the very bed i occupied. footnote: [ ] see mrs. kinzie's "wau-bun" for a description of the difficulties of travel in "the early day," via dixon's ferry. chapter vii. storm-bound at erie. we were somewhat jaded by the time monday morning came, for sunday brought not only no relief, but repetitions of many of the most horrible of these "tales of a wayside inn." it was with no slight sense of relief that we paid our modest bill and at last broke away from such ghastly associations. an involuntary shudder overcame me, as we passed the head of the island at the foot of our host's orchard, which he had described as a catch-basin for human floaters. our course still lay among large, densely wooded islands,--many of them wholly given up to maples and willows,--and deep cuts through sun-baked mudbanks, the color of adobe; but occasionally there are low, gloomy bottoms, heavily forested, and strewn with flood-wood, while beyond the land rises gradually into prairie stretches. in the bottoms the trees are filled with flocks of birds,--crows, hawks, blackbirds, with stately blue herons and agile plovers foraging on the long gravel-spits which frequently jut far into the stream; ducks are frequently seen sailing near the shores; while divers silently dart and plunge ahead of the canoe, safely out of gunshot reach. a head wind this morning made rowing more difficult, by counteracting the influence of the current. we were at lyndon at eleven o'clock. there is a population of about two hundred, clustered around a red paper-mill. the latter made a pretty picture standing out on the bold bank, backed by a number of huge stacks of golden straw. we met here the first rapids worthy of record; also an old, abandoned mill-dam, in the last stages of decay, stretching its whitened skeleton across the stream, a harbor for driftwood. near the south bank the framework has been entirely swept away for a space several rods in width, and through this opening the pent-up current fiercely sweeps. we went through the centre of the channel thus made, with a swoop that gave us an impetus which soon carried our vessel out of sight of lyndon and its paper-mill and straw-stacks. prophetstown, five miles below, is prettily situated in an oak grove on the southern bank. only the gables of a few houses can be seen from the river, whose banks of yellow clay and brown mud are here twenty-five feet high. during the first third of the present century, this place was the site of a winnebago village, whose chief was white cloud, a shrewd, sinister savage, half winnebago and half sac, who claimed to be a prophet. he was black hawk's evil genius during the uprising of , and in many ways was one of the most remarkable aborigines known to illinois history. it was at "the prophet's town," as white cloud's village was known in pioneer days, that black hawk rested upon his ill-fated journey up the rock, and from here, at the instigation of the wizard, he bade the united states soldiery defiance. there are rapids, almost continually, from a mile above prophetstown to erie, ten miles below. the river bed here has a sharper descent than customary, and is thickly strewn with bowlders; many of them were visible above the surface, at the low stage of water which we found, but for the greater part they were covered for two or three inches. what with these impediments, the snags that had been left as the legacy of last spring's flood, and the frequent sand-banks and gravel-spits, navigation was attended by many difficulties and some dangers. four or five miles below prophetstown, a lone fisherman, engaged in examining a "traut-line" stretched between one of the numerous gloomy islands and the mainland, kindly informed us of a mile-long cut-off, the mouth of which was now in view, that would save us several miles of rowing. here, the high banks had receded, with several miles of heavily wooded, boggy bottoms intervening. floods had held high carnival, and the aspect of the country was wild and deserted. the cut-off was an ugly looking channel; but where our informant had gone through, with his unwieldy hulk, we considered it safe to venture with a canoe, so readily responsive to the slightest paddle-stroke. the current had torn for itself a jagged bed through the heart of a dense and moss-grown forest. it was a scene of howling desolation, rack and ruin upon every hand. the muddy torrent, at a velocity of fully eight miles an hour, went eddying and whirling and darting and roaring among the gnarled and blackened stumps, the prostrate trees, the twisted roots, the huge bowlders which studded its course. the stream was not wide enough for the oars; the paddle was the sole reliance. with eyes strained for obstructions, we turned and twisted through the labyrinth, jumping along at a breakneck speed; and, when we finally rejoined the main river below, were grateful enough, for the run had been filled with continuous possibilities of a disastrous smash-up, miles away from any human habitation. the thunder-storm which had been threatening since early morning, soon burst upon us with a preliminary wind blast, followed by drenching rain. running ashore on the lee bank, we wrapped the canvas awning around the baggage, and made for a thick clump of trees on the top of an island mudbank, where we stood buttoned to the neck in rubber coats. a vigorous "halloo!" came sounding over the water. looking up, we saw for the first time a small tent on the opposite shore, a quarter of a mile away, in front of which was a man shouting to us and beckoning us over. it was getting uncomfortably muddy under the trees, which had not long sufficed as an umbrella, and the rubber coats were not warranted to withstand a deluge, so we accepted the invitation with alacrity and paddled over through the pelting storm. our host was a young fisherman, who helped us and our luggage up the slimy bank to his canvas quarters, which we found to be dry, although odorous of fish. while the storm raged without, the young man, who was a simple-hearted fellow, confided to us the details of his brief career. he had been married but a year, he said; his little cabin lay a quarter of a mile back in the woods, and, so as to be convenient to his lines, he was camping on his own wood-lot; the greater part of his time was spent in fishing or hunting, according to the season, and peddling the product in neighboring towns, while upon a few acres of clearing he raised "garden truck" for his household, which had recently become enriched by the addition of an infant son. the phenomenal powers of observation displayed by this first-born youth were reported with much detail by the fond father, who sat crouched upon a boat-sail in one corner of the little tent, his head between his knees, and smoking vile tobacco in a blackened clay pipe. it seemed that his wife was a ferryman's daughter, and her father had besought his son-in-law to follow the same steady calling. to be sure, our host declared, ferries on the rock river netted their owners from $ to $ a year, which he considered a goodly sum, and his father-in-law had offered to purchase an established plant for him. but the young fellow said that ferrying was a dog's life, and "kept a feller home like barn chores;" he preferred to fish and hunt, earning far less but retaining independence of movement, so rejected the offer and settled down, avowedly for life, in his present precarious occupation. as a result, the indignant old man had forbidden him to again enter the parental ferry-house until he agreed to accept his proposals, and there was henceforth to be a standing family quarrel. the fisherman having appealed to my judgment, i endeavored with mild caution to argue him out of his position on the score of consideration for his wife and little one; but he was not to be gainsaid, and firmly, though with admirable good nature, persisted in defending his roving tendencies. in the course of our conversation i learned that the ferrymen, who are more numerous on the lower than on the upper rock, pay an annual license fee of five dollars each, in consideration of which they are guarantied a monopoly of the business at their stands, no other line being allowed within one mile of an existing ferry. within an hour and a half the storm had apparently passed over, and we continued our journey. but after supper another shower and a stiff head wind came up, and we were well bedraggled by the time a ferry-landing near the little village of erie was reached. the bottoms are here a mile or two in width, with occasional openings in the woods, where small fields are cultivated by the poorer class of farmers, who were last spring much damaged by the flood which swept this entire country. the ferryman, a good-natured young athlete, was landing a farm-wagon and team as we pulled in upon the muddy roadway. when questioned about quarters, he smiled and pointing to his little cabin, a few rods off in the bushes, said,--"we've four people to sleep in two rooms; it's sure we can't take ye; i'd like to, otherwise. but erie's only a mile away." we assured him that with these muddy swamp roads, and in our wet condition, nothing but absolute necessity would induce us to take a mile's tramp. the parley ended in our being directed to a small farm-house a quarter of a mile inland, where luckless travelers, belated on the dreary bottoms, were occasionally kept. making the canoe fast for the night, we strung our baggage-packs upon the paddle which we carried between us, and set out along a devious way, through a driving mist which blackened the twilight into dusk, to find this place of public entertainment. it is a little, one-story, dilapidated farm-house, standing a short distance from the country road, amid a clump of poplar trees. forcing our way through the hingeless gate, the violent removal of which threatened the immediate destruction of several lengths of rickety fence, we walked up to the open front door and applied for shelter. "yes, ma'am; we sometimes keeps tavern, ma'am," replied a large, greasy-looking, black-haired woman of some forty years, as, her hands folded within her up-turned apron, she courtesied to w----. we were at once shown into a frowsy apartment which served as parlor, sitting-room and parental dormitory. there was huddled together an odd, slouchy combination of articles of shabby furniture and cheap decorations, peculiar, in the country, to all three classes of rooms, the evidences of poverty, shiftlessness, and untasteful pretentiousness upon every side. a huge, wheezy old cabinet organ was set diagonally in one corner, and upon this, as we entered, a young woman was pounding and paddling with much vigor, while giving us sidelong glances of curiosity. she was a neighbor, on an evening visit, decked out in a smart jockey-cap, with a green ostrich tip and bright blue ribbons, and gay in a new calico dress,--a yellow field thickly planted to purple pineapples. a jaunty, forward creature, in pimples and curls, she rattled away through a moody and sankey hymn-book, the wheezes and groans of the antique instrument coming in like mournful ejaculations from the amen corner at a successful revival. having exhausted her stock of tunes, she wheeled around upon her stool, and after declaring to her half-dozen admiring auditors that her hands were "as tired as after the mornin's milkin'" abruptly accosted w----: "ma'am, kin ye play on the orgin?" w---- confessed her inability, chiefly from lack of practice in the art of incessantly working the pedals. "that's the trick o' the hul business, ma'am, is the blowin'. it's all in gettin' the bellers to work even like. there's a good many what kin learn the playin' part of it without no teacher; but there has to be lessons to learn the bellers. don't ye have no orgin, when ye're at home?" she asked sharply, as if to guage the social standing of the new guest. w---- modestly confessed to never having possessed such an instrument. "down in these parts," rejoined the young woman, as she "worked the bellers" into a strain or two of "hold the fort," apparently to show how easy it came to trained feet, "no house is now considered quite up to the fashi'n as ain't got a orgin." the rain being now over, she soon departed, evidently much disgusted at w----'s lack of organic culture. the bed-chamber into which we were shown was a marvel. it opened off the main room and was, doubtless, originally a cupboard. seven feet square, with a broad, roped bedstead occupying the entire length, a bedside space of but two feet wide was left. much of this being filled with butter firkins, chains, a trunk, and a miscellaneous riff-raff of household lumber, the standing-room was restricted to two feet square, necessitating the use of the bed as a dressing-place, after the fashion of a sleeping-car bunk. this cubby-hole of a room was also the wardrobe for the women of the household, the walls above the bed being hung nearly two feet deep with the oddest collection of calico and gingham gowns, bustles, hoopskirts, hats, bonnets, and winter underwear i think i had ever laid eyes on. much of this condition of affairs was not known, however, until next morning; for it was as dark as egypt within, except for a few faint rays of light which came straggling through the cracks in the board partition separating us from the sitting-room candle. we had no sooner crossed the threshold of our little box than the creaky old cleat door was gently closed upon us and buttoned by our hostess upon the outside, as the only means of keeping it shut; and we were left free to grope about among these mysteries as best we might. we had hardly recovered from our astonishment at thus being locked into a dark hole the size of a fashionable lady's trunk, and were quietly laughing over this odd adventure, when the landlady applied her mouth to a crack and shouted, as if she would have waked the dead: "hi, there! ye'd better shet the winder to keep the bugs out!" a few minutes later, returning to the crack, she added, "ef ye's cold in the night, jest haul down some o' them clothes atop o' ye which ye'll find on the wall." repressing our mirth, we assured our good hostess that we would have a due regard for our personal safety. the window, not at first discernible, proved to be a hole in the wall, some two feet square, which brought in little enough fresh air, at the best. it was fortunate that the night was cool, although our hostess's best gowns were not needed to supplement the horse-blankets under which we slept the sleep of weary canoeists. chapter viii the last day out. the following day opened brightly. we had breakfast in the tavern kitchen, _en famille_. the husband, whom we had not met before, was a short, smooth-faced, voluble, overgrown-boy sort of man. the mother was dumpy, coarse, and good-natured. they had a greasy, easy-tempered daughter of eighteen, with a frowsy head, and a face like a full moon; while the heir of the household, somewhat younger, was a gaping, grinning youth of the simple simon order, who shovelled mashed potatoes into his mouth alternately with knife and fork, and took bites of bread large enough for a ravenous dog. the old grandmother, with a face like parchment and one gleaming eye, sat in a low rocking-chair by the stove, crooning over a corn-cob pipe and using the wood-box for a cuspadore. she had a vinegary, slangy tongue, and being somewhat deaf, would break in upon the conversation with remarks sharper than they were pat. with our host, a glib and rapid talker in a swaggering tone, one could not but be much amused, as he exhibited a degree of self-appreciation that was decidedly refreshing. he had been a veteran in the war of the rebellion, he proudly assured us, and pointed with his knife to his discharge-paper, which was hung up in an old looking-glass frame by the side of the clock. "gemmen,"--he invariably thus addressed us, as though we were a coterie of checker-players at a village grocery,--"gemmen, when i seen how them johnny rebs was a usin' our boys in them prison pens down thar at andersonville and libbie and 'roun' thar, i jist says to myself, says i, 'joe, my boy, you go now an' do some'n' fer yer country; a crack shot like you is, joe,' says i to myself, 'as kin hit a duck on the wing, every time, an' no mistake, oughtn't ter be a-lyin 'roun' home an' doin' no'hun to put down the rebellion; it's a shame,' says i, 'when our boys is a-suff'r'n' down thar on mason 'n' dixie's line;' an' so i jined, an' i stuck her out, gemmen, till the thing was done; they ain't no coward 'bout me, ef i _hev_ the sayin' of it!" "were you wounded, sir?" asked w----, sympathetically. "no, i wa'n't hurt at all,--that is, so to speak, wounded. but thar were a sort of a doctor feller 'round here las' winter, a-stoppin' at erie; an' he called at my place, an' he says, 'no'hun the matter wi' you, a-growin out o' the war?' says he; an' i says, 'no'hun that i know'd on,' says i,--'i'm a-eatin' my reg'l'r victuals whin i don't have the shakes,' says i. 'ah!' says he, 'you've the shakes?' he says; 'an' don't you know you ketched 'em in the war?' 'i ketched 'em a-gettin' m'lairy in the bottoms,' says i, 'a-duck-shootin', in which i kin hit a bird on the wing every time an' no mistake,' says i. 'now,' he says, 'hold on a minute; you didn't hev shakes afore the war?' says he. 'not as much,' i says, not knowin' what the feller was drivin' at, 'but some; i was a kid then, and kids don't shake much,' says i. 'hold up! hold up!' he says, 'you 're wrong, an' ye know it; ye don't hev no mem'ry goin' back so far about phys'cal conditions,' says he. well, gemmen, sure 'nough, when i kem to think things over, and talk it up with the doctor chap, i 'lowed he was right. then he let on he was a claim agint, an' i let him try his hand on workin' up a pension for me, for he says i wa'n't to pay no'hun 'less the thing went through. but i hearn tell, down at erie, that they is a-goin' agin these private claims nowadays at washin'ton, an' i don't know what my show is. but i ought to hev a pension, an' no mistake, gemmen. they wa'n't no fellers did harder work 'n me in the war, ef i _do_ say it myself." w---- ventured to ask what battles our host had been in. "well, i wa'n't in no reg'lar battle,--that is, right _in_ one. thar was a few of us detailed ter tek keer of gov'ment prop'ty near c'lumby, south car'liny, when wade hamptin was a-burnin' things down thar. we was four miles away from the fightin,' an' i was jest a-achin' to git in thar. what i wanted was to git a bead on ol' wade himself,--an' ef i do say it myself, the ol' man would 'a' hunted his hole, gemmen. when i get a sight on a duck, gemmen, that duck's mine, an' no mistake. an' ef i'd 'a' sighted wade hamptin, then good-by wade! i tol' the cap'n what i wanted, but he said as how i was more use a-takin' keer of the supplies. that cap'n hadn't no enterprise 'bout him. things would 'a' been different at c'lumby, ef i'd had my way, an' don't ye forgit it! there was heaps o' blood spilt unnecessary by us boys, a-fightin' to save the ol' flag,--an' we 're willin' to do it agin, gemmen, an' no mistake!" the old woman had been listening eagerly to this narrative, evidently quite proud of her boy's achievements, but not hearing all that had been said. she now broke out, in shrill, high notes,-- "joe ought ter 'a' had a pension, he had, wi' his chills 'tracted in the war. he wuk'd hard, joe did, a hul ten months, doin' calvary service, the last year o' the war; an' he kem nigh onter shootin' ol' wade hamptin, an' a-makin' a name for himself, an' p'r'aps a good office with a title an' all that; only they kep' him back with the ammernition wagin, 'count o' the kurnil's jealousy,--for joe is a dead shot, ma'am, if i'm his mother as says it, and keeps the family in ducks half the year 'roun', an' the kurnil know'd joe was a-bilin' over to git to the front." "ah! you were in the cavalry service, then?" i said to our landlord, by way of helping along the conversation. there was a momentary silence, broken by simple simon, who wiped his knife on his tongue, and made a wild attack on the butter dish. "pa, he druv a mule team for gov'ment; an' we got a picter in the album, tuk of him when he were just a-goin' inter battle, with a big ammernition wagin on behind. pa, in the picter, is a-ridin' o' one o' the mules, an' any one'd know him right off." this sudden revelation of the strength of the veteran's claim to glory and a pension, put a damper upon his reminiscences of the war; and giving the innocent simon a savage leer, he soon contrived to turn the conversation upon his wonderful exploits in duck-shooting and fishing--industries in the pursuit of which he, with so many of his fellow-farmers on the bottoms, appeared to be more eager than in tilling the soil. it was quite evident that the breakfast we were eating was a special spread in honor of probably the only guests the quondam tavern had had these many months. canoeists must not be too particular about the fare set before them; but on this occasion we were able to swallow but a few mouthfuls of the repast and our lunch-basket was drawn on as soon as we were once more afloat. it is a great pity that so many farmers' wives are the wretched cooks they are. with an abundance of good materials already about them, and rare opportunities for readily acquiring more, tens of thousands of rural dames do manage to prepare astonishingly inedible meals,--sour, doughy bread; potatoes which, if boiled, are but half cooked, and if mashed, are floated with abominable butter or pastey flour gravy; salt pork either swimming in a bowl of grease or fried to a leathery chip; tea and coffee extremely weak or strong enough to kill an ox, as chance may dictate, and inevitably adulterated beyond recognition; eggs that are spoiled by being fried to the consistency of rubber, in a pan of fat deep enough to float doughnuts; while the biscuits are yellow and bitter with saleratus. this bill of fare, warranted to destroy the best of appetites, will be recognized by too many of my readers as that to be found at the average american farm-house, although we all doubtless know of some magnificent exceptions, which only prove the rule. we establish public cooking-schools in our cities, and economists like edward atkinson and hygienists like the late dio lewis assiduously explain to the metropolitan poor their processes of making a tempting meal out of nothing; but our most crying need in this country to-day is a training-school for rural housewives, where they may be taught to evolve a respectable and economical spread out of the great abundance with which they are surrounded. it is no wonder that country boys drift to the cities, where they can obtain properly cooked food and live like rational beings. the river continues to widen as we approach the junction with the mississippi,--thirty-nine miles below erie,--and to assume the characteristics of the great river into which it pours its flood. the islands increase in number and in size, some of them being over a mile in length by a quarter of a mile in breadth; the bottoms frequently resolve themselves into wide morasses, thickly studded with great elms, maples, and cotton-woods, among which the spring flood has wrought direful destruction. the scene becomes peculiarly desolate and mournful, often giving one the impression of being far removed from civilization, threading the course of some hitherto unexplored stream. penetrate the deep fringe of forest and morass on foot, however, and smiling prairies are found beyond, stretching to the horizon and cut up into prosperous farms. the river is here from a half to three-quarters of a mile broad, but the shallows and snags are as numerous as ever and navigation is continually attended with some danger of being either grounded or capsized. now and then the banks become firmer, with charming vistas of high, wooded hills coming down to the water's edge; broad savannas intervene, decked out with variegated flora, prominent being the elsewhere rare atragene americana, the spider-wort, the little blue lobelia, and the cup-weed. these savannas are apparently overflowed in times of exceptionally high water; and there are evidences that the stream has occasionally changed its course, through the sunbaked banks of ashy-gray mud, in years long past. at cleveland, a staid little village on an open plain, which we reached soon after the dinner-hour, there is an unused mill-dam going to decay. in the centre, the main current has washed out a breadth of three or four rods, through which the pent-up stream rushes with a roar and a hundred whirlpools. it is an ugly crevasse, but a careful examination showed the passage to be feasible, so we retreated an eighth of a mile up-stream, took our bearings, and went through with a speed that nearly took our breath away and appeared to greatly astonish a half-dozen fishermen idly angling from the dilapidated apron on either side. it was like going through cleveland on the fast mail. fourteen miles above the mouth of the rock, is the chicago, burlington and quincy railroad bridge, with carbon cliff on the north and coloma on the south, each one mile from the river. the day had been dark, with occasional slight showers and a stiff head wind, so that progress had been slow. we began to deem it worth while to inquire about the condition of affairs at the mouth. under the bridge, sitting on a bowlder at the base of the north abutment, an intelligent-appearing man in a yellow oiled-cloth suit, accompanied by a bright-eyed lad, peacefully fished. stopping to question them, we found them both well-informed as to the railway time-tables of the vicinity and the topography of the lower river. they told us that the scenery for the next fourteen miles was similar, in its dark desolation, to that which we had passed through during the day; also that owing to the great number of islands and the labyrinth of channels both in the rock and on the east side of the mississippi, we should find it practically impossible to know when we had reached the latter; we should doubtless proceed several miles below the mouth of the rock before we noticed that the current was setting persistently south, and then would have an exceedingly difficult task in retracing our course and pulling up-stream to our destination, rock island, which is six miles north of the delta of the rock. they strongly advised our going into rock island by rail. the present landing was the last chance to strike a railway, except at milan, twelve miles below. it was now so late that we could not hope to reach milan before dark; there were no stopping-places _en route_, and milan was farther from rock island than either carbon cliff or coloma, with less frequent railway service. for these and other reasons, we decided to accept this advice, and to ship from coloma. taking a final spurt down to a ferry-landing a quarter of a mile beyond, on the south bank, we beached our canoe at . p.m., having voyaged two hundred and sixty-seven miles in somewhat less than seven days and a half. leaving w---- to gossip with the ferryman's wife, who came down to the bank with an armful of smiling twins, to view a craft so strange to her vision, i went up into the country to engage a team to take our boat upon its last portage. after having been gruffly refused by a churlish farmer, who doubtless recognized no difference between a canoeist and a tramp, i struck a bargain with a negro cultivating a cornfield with a span of coal-black mules, and in half an hour he was at the ferry-landing with a wagon. washing out the canoe and chaining in the oars and paddle, we lifted it into the wagon-box, piled our baggage on top, and set off over the hills and fields to coloma, w---- and i trudging behind the dray, ankle deep in mud, for the late rains had well moistened the black prairie soil. it was a unique and picturesque procession. in less than an hour we were in rock island, and our canoe was on its way by freight to portage, preparatory to my tour with our friend the doctor,--down the fox river of green bay. the fox river (of green bay). [illustration: map of the fox-wisconsin rivers to accompany thwaites's "historic waterways"] the fox river (of green bay). first letter. smith's island. packwaukee, wis., june , . my dear w----: it was . p. m. yesterday when the doctor and i launched the old canoe upon the tan-colored water of the government canal at portage, and pointed her nose in the direction of the historic fox. you will remember that the canal traverses the low sandy plain which separates the fox from the wisconsin on a line very nearly parallel to where tradition locates barth's and lecuyer's wagon-portage a hundred years ago. it was a profitable business in the olden days, when the fox-wisconsin highway was extensively patronized, to thus transport river craft over this mile and a half of bog. the toll[ ] collected by these french creoles and their successors down to the days of paquette added materially to the cost of goods and peltries. in times of exceptionally high water the wisconsin overflowed into the fox, which is ordinarily five feet lower than the former, and canoes could readily cross the portage afloat, quite independent of the forwarding agents. in this generation the wisconsin is kept to her bounds by levees; but the government canal furnishes a free highway. the railroads have spoiled water-navigation, however; and the canal, like the most of the fox and wisconsin river-improvement, is fast relapsing into a costly relic. the timbered sides are rotting, the peat and sand are bulging them in, the locks are shaky and worm-eaten, and several moss-covered barges and a stranded old ruin of a steamboat turned out to grass tell a sad story of official abandonment. the scenic effects from the canal are not enlivening. there is a wide expanse of bog, relieved by some grass-grown railway side-tracks and the forlorn freight-depot of the wisconsin central road. a few battered sheds yet remain of old fort winnebago on a lonesome hillock near where the canal joins the fox; while beyond to the north as far as the eye can reach there is a stretch of wild-rice swamp, through which the government dredges have scooped a narrow channel, about as picturesque as a cranberry-marsh drain. life at fort winnebago during the second quarter of this century must have been lonesome indeed, its nearest neighbors being forts crawford and howard, each nearly two hundred miles away. a mile or two to the southwest is a pretty wooded ridge, girting the wisconsin river, upon which the city of portage is now situated. then it was a forest, and the camping-ground of winnebagoes, who hung around the post in the half-threatening attitude of beggars who might make trouble if not adequately bribed with gifts. the fort was erected in - at the solicitation of john jacob astor (the american fur company), to protect his trade against encroachments from these winnebago rascals, who had become quite impudent during the red bird disturbance at prairie du chien, in . jefferson davis was one of the three first-lieutenants in the original garrison, in which harney, of mexican war fame, was a captain. davis was detailed to the charge of a squad sent to cut timbers for the fort in a wisconsin river pinery just above the portage, and thus became one of the pioneer lumbermen of wisconsin. it is related, too, that davis, who was an amateur cabinet-maker, designed some very odd wardrobes and other pieces of furniture for the officers' chambers, which were the wonder and admiration of every occupant for years to come.[ ] in , when secretary of war, the whilom subaltern issued an order for the sale of the fort so intimately connected with his army career, and its crazy buildings henceforth became tenements. for a dozen miles beyond the fox river end of the canal the river, as i have before said, is dredged out through the swamp like a big ditch. the artificial banks of sand and peat which line it are generally well grown with mare's-tail, beautiful clumps of wild roses, purple vetch, great beds of sensitive ferns, and masses of pennsylvania anemone, while the pools are decked with water-anemone. nature is doing her best to hide the deformities wrought by man. the valley is generally about a mile in width, ridges of wooded knolls hemming in the broad expanse of reeds and rice and willow clumps. occasionally the engineers have allowed the ditch to swerve in graceful lines and to hug closely the firmer soil in the lower benches of the knolls, where the banks of red and yellow clay attain a height of ten or a dozen feet, crowned with oaks and elms or pleasant glades. a modest farm-house now and then appears upon such a shore, with the front yard running down to the water's edge. the afternoon shadows are lengthening, and farmers' boys are leading their horses down to drink, after the day's labor in the fields. black and yellow collies are gathering in the cows,--some of them soberly and quickly corral obedient herds, while others yelp and snap at the heads of the affrighted animals, and in the noise and confusion seem to make but little progress. collies have human-like infirmities. we had supper at seven o'clock, under a tree which overhangs a weedy bank, with a high pasture back of us, sloping up to a wooded hill, at the base of which is a cluster of three neatly painted farm-houses, whose dogs bayed at us from the distance, but did not venture to approach. a half-hour later, the sun's setting warned us that quarters for the night must soon be secured. stopping at the base of a boggy pasture-wood, we ascended through a sterile field, accursed with sheep-sorrel, and through gaps in several crazy fences, to what had seemed to us from the river a comfortable, repose-inviting house, commandingly situated on a hill-top among the trees. near approach revealed a scene of desolation. the barriers were down, two spare-ribbed horses were nipping a scant supper among the weeds in a dark corner of an otherwise deserted barn-yard, the window-sashes were generally paneless, the porch was in a state of collapse, sand-burrs choked the paths, and to our knock at the kitchen door the only response was a hollow echo. the deserted house looked uncanny in the gloaming, and we retired to our boat wondering what evil spell had been cast over the place, and whether the horses in the barn-yard had been deliberately left behind to die of starvation. the river now takes upon itself many devious windings in a great widespread over two miles broad. the government engineers have here left it in all its original crookedness, and the twists and turns are as fantastic and complicated as those of the teutonic pretzel in its native land. as the twilight thickened, great swarms of lake-flies rose from the sedges and beat their way up-stream, the noise of their multitudinous wings being at times like the roar of a neighboring waterfall, as they formed a ceaselessly moving canopy over our heads. it was noticeable that the flies kept very closely to the windings of the river, as if guided only by the glittering flood beneath them. the mass of the procession kept its way up the stream, but upon the outskirts could be seen a few individuals, apparently larger than the average, flying back and forth as if marshaling the host. two miles below the deserted house, we stopped opposite another marshy bank, where a rude skiff lay tied to a shaky fence projecting far out into the reeds. pushing our way in, we beached in the slimy shore-mud and scrambled upon the land, where the tall grass was now as sloppy with dew as though it had been rained upon. it was getting quite dark now, but through a cleft in the hills the moon was seen to be just rising above a cloud-bathed horizon, and a small house, neat-looking, though destitute of paint, was sharply silhouetted against the lightening sky, at the head of a gentle slope. by the time we had waded through a quarter of a mile of thriving timothy we were wet to the skin below the knees and dusted all over with pollen. seven children, mostly boys, and gently step-laddered down from fourteen years, greeted us at the summit with a loud "hello!" in shrill unison. they stood in a huddle by the woodpile, holding down and admonishing a very mild-looking collie, which they evidently imagined was filled with an overweening desire instantly to devour us. "hello there! who be ye?" shouted the oldest lad and the spokesman of the party. he was a tall, spare boy, and by the light of the rising moon we could see he was sharp-featured, good-natured, and intelligent. "well," said the doctor, bantering, "that's what we'd like to know. you tell us who you are, and we'll tell you who we are. now that's fair, isn't it?" "yes, sir," replied the boy, respectfully, as he touched his rimless straw hat; "our name's smith; all 'cept that boy there," pointing to a sturdy little twelve-year-old, "an' he's a bixby, he is." "the smith family's a big one, i should say," the doctor remarked, as he audibly counted the party. "oh, this ain't all on 'em, sir; there's two in the house, a-hidin' 'cause o' strangers, besides the baby, which ma and pa has with 'em inter packwaukee, a-shoppin'. this is smith's island, sir. didn't ye ever hear o' smith's island?" we acknowledged our ignorance, up to this time, of the existence of any such feature in the geography of wisconsin. but the lad, now joined by the others, who had by this time vanquished their bashfulness and all wanted to talk at once, assured us that we were actually on smith's island; that smith's island had an area of one hundred acres, was surrounded on the east by the river, and everywhere else by either a bayou or a marsh that had to be crossed with a boat in the spring; that there were three families of smiths there, and this group represented but one branch of the clan. "we're all smiths, sir, but this boy, who's a bixby; an' he's our cousin and only a-visitin'." after having gained a thorough knowledge of the topography and population of smith's island, we ventured to ask whether it was presumable that the parental smiths, when they returned home from the village, would be willing to entertain us for the night. "guess not, sir," replied the spokesman, the idea appearing to strike him humorously; "there's so many of us now, sir, that we're packed in pretty close, an' the bixby boy has to sleep atop o' the orgin. but i think uncle jim might; he kept a tramp over night once, an' give him his breakfus', too, in the bargain." the prospect as to uncle jim was certainly encouraging, and it was now too late to go further. it seemed necessary to stop on smith's island for the night, even if we were restricted to quartering in the corn-crib which the smith boy kindly put at our disposal in case of uncle jim's refusal,--with the additional inducement that he would lend us the collie for company and to "keep off rats," which he intimated were phenomenally numerous on this swamp-girt hill. the entire troop of urchins accompanied us down to the bank to make fast for the night, and helped us up with our baggage to the corn-crib, where we disturbed a large family of hens which were using the airy structure as a summer dormitory. then, with the two oldest boys as pilots, we set off along the ridge to find the domicile of uncle jim, who had established a reputation for hospitality by having once entertained a way-worn tramp. the moon had now swung clear of the trees on the edge of the river basin, and gleamed through a great cleft in the blue-black clouds, investing the landscape with a luminous glow. along the eastern horizon a dark forest-girt ridge hemmed in the reedy widespread, through which the gleaming fox twisted and doubled upon itself like a silvery serpent in agony. the indians, who have an eye to the picturesque in nature, tell us that once a monster snake lay down for the night in the swamp between the portage and the lake of the winnebagoes. the dew accumulated upon it as it lay, and when the morning came it wriggled and shook the water from its back, and disappeared down the river which it had thus created in its nocturnal bed. i had never fully appreciated the aptness of the legend until last night, when i had that bird's-eye view of the valley of the fox from the summit of smith's island. to our left, the timothy-field sloped gracefully down to the sedgy couch of the serpent; to our right, there were pastures and oak openings, with glimpses of the moonlit bayou below, across which a dark line led to a forest,--the narrow roadway leading from smith's to the outer world. at the edge of a small wood-lot our guides stopped, telling us to keep on along the path, over two stiles and through a barn-yard gate, till we saw a light; the light would be uncle jim's. a cloud was by this time overcasting the moon, and a distant rumble told us that the night would be stormy. groping our way through the copse, we passed the barriers, and, according to promise, the blinding light of a kerosene lamp standing on the ledge of an open window burst upon us. then a door opened, and the form of a tall, stalwart man stood upon the threshold, a striking silhouette. it was uncle jim peering into the darkness, for he had heard footsteps in the yard. we were greeted cordially on the porch, and shown into a cosey sitting-room, where uncle jim had been reading his weekly paper, and uncle jim's wife, smiling sweetly amid her curl-papers, was engaged on a bit of crochet. charmingly hospitable people they are. they have been married but a year or two, are without children, and have a pleasant cottage furnished simply but in excellent taste. such delightful little homes are rare in the country, and the doctor couldn't help telling uncle jim so, whereat the latter was very properly pleased. uncle jim is a fine-looking, manly fellow, six feet two in his stockings, he told us; and his pretty, blooming wife, though young, has the fine manners of the olden school. we were earnestly invited to stop for the night before we had fairly stated our case, and in five minutes were talking on politics, general news, and agriculture, as though we had always lived on smith's island and had just dropped in for an evening's chat. i am sure you would have enjoyed it, w----, it was such a contrast to our night at the erie tavern,--only a week ago, though it seems a month. one sees and feels so much, canoeing, that the days are like weeks of ordinary travel. two hundred miles by river are more full of the essence of life than two thousand by rail. we had an excellent bed and an appetizing breakfast. the flood-gates of heaven had been opened during the night, and smith's island shaken to its peaty foundations by great thunder-peals. uncle jim was happy, for the pasturage would be improved, and the corn crop would have a "show." uncle jim's wife said there would now be milk enough to make butter for market; and the hens would do better, for somehow they never would lay regularly during the drought we had been experiencing. and so we talked on while the "clearing showers" lasted. i told uncle jim that i was surprised to see him raising anything at all in what was apparently sand. he acknowledged that the soil was light, and inclined to blow away on the slightest aerial provocation, but he nevertheless managed to get twenty bushels of wheat to the acre, and the lowlands gave him an abundance of hay and pasturage. he was decidedly in favor of mixed crops, himself, and was gradually getting into the stock line, as he wanted a crop that could "walk itself into market." the doctor inquired about the health of the neighborhood, which he found to be excellent. he is much of a gallant, you know; and uncle jim's wife was pleasantly flustered when, in his most winning tones, the disciple of Ã�sculapius declared that the climate that could produce such splendid complexions as hers--and uncle jim's--must indeed be rated as available for a sanitarium. by a quarter to eight o'clock this morning the storm had ceased, and the eastern sky brightened. our kind friends bade us a cheery farewell, we retraced our steps to the corn-crib, the smith boys helped us down with our load, and just as our watches touched eight we shoved off into the stream, and were once more afloat upon the serpentine trail. these great wild-rice widespreads--sloughs, the natives call them--are doubtless the beds of ancient lakes. in coursing through them, the bayous, the cul-de-sacs, are so frequent, and the stream switches off upon such unexpected tangents, that it is sometimes perplexing to ascertain which body of sluggish water is the main channel. marquette found this out when he ascended the fox in . he says, in his relation of the voyage, "the way is so cut up by marshes and little lakes that it is easy to go astray, especially as the river is so covered with wild oats [wild rice] that you can hardly discover the channel; hence, we had good need of our two guides." little bog-islands, heavily grown with aspens and willows, occasionally dot the seas of rice. they often fairly hum with the varied notes of the red-winged blackbird, the rusty grackle, and our american robin, while whistling plovers are seen upon the mud-spits, snapping up the choicest of the snails. and such bullfrogs! i have not heard their like since, when a boy, living on the verge of a new england pond, i imagined their hollow rumble of a roundelay to bear the burden of "paddy, go 'round! go 'round and 'round!" this in accordance with a local tradition which says that paddy, coming home one night o'erfull of the "craithur," came to the edge of the pond, which stopped his progress. the friendly frogs, who themselves enjoy a soaking, advised him to go around the obstruction; and as the wild refrain kept on, paddy did indeed "go 'round, and 'round" till morning and his better-half found him, a foot-sore and a soberer man. they tell us that on the fox river the frogs say, "judge arndt! arndt! judge arndt!" old judge arndt was one of the celebrities in the early day at green bay; he was a fur-trader, and accustomed, with his gang of _voyageurs_, to navigate the fox and wisconsin with heavily laden canoes and mackinaw boats. a frenchman, he had a gastronomic affection for frogs' legs, and many a branch of the house of rana was cast into mourning in the neighborhood of his nightly camps. the story goes, therefore, that unto this time whenever a boat is seen upon the river, sentinel frogs give out the signal cry of "judge arndt!" by way of deadly warning to their kind. certain it is that the valley of the upper fox, by day or by night, is resonant with the bellow of the amphibious bull. it is not always "judge arndt!" but occasionally, as if miles and miles away, one hears a sudden twanging note, like that of the finger-snapped bass string of a violin; whereas the customary refrain may be likened to the deep reverberations of the bass-viol. add the countless chatter and whistle of the birds, the ear-piercing hum of the cicada, and the muffled chimes from scores of sheep and cow bells on the hillside pastures, and we have an orchestral accompaniment upon our voyage that could be fully appreciated only in a chinese theatre. in the pockets and the sloughs, we find thousands of yellow and white water-lilies, and sometimes progress is impeded by masses of creeping root-stalks which have been torn from their muddy bed by the upheaval of the ice, and now float about in great rafts, firmly anchored by the few whose extremities are still imbedded in the ooze. fishing-boats were also occasionally met with this morning, occupied by packwaukee people; for in the widespreads just above this village, the pickerel thrives mightily off the swarms of perch who love these reedy seas; and the weighty sturgeon often swallows a hook and gives his captor many a frenzied tug before he consents to enter the "live-box" which floats behind each craft. footnotes: [ ] ten dollars per boat, and fifty cents per lbs. of goods. [ ] described in mrs. kinzie's "wau-bun," which gives many interesting reminiscences of life at the old post. second letter. from packwaukee to berlin. berlin, wis., june , . my dear w----: packwaukee is twenty-five miles by river below portage, and at the head of buffalo lake. it is a tumble-down little place, with about one hundred inhabitants, half of whom appeared to be engaged in fishing. a branch of the wisconsin central railway, running south from stevens point to portage, passes through the town, with a spur track running along the north shore of the lake to montello, seven miles east. regular trains stop at packwaukee, while the engine draws a pony train out to montello to pick up the custom of that thriving village. packwaukee apparently had great pretensions once, with her battlement-fronts and verandaed inn; but that day has long passed, and a picturesque float-bridge, mossy and decayed, remains the sole point of artistic interest. a dozen boys were angling from its battered hand-rail, as we painfully crept with our craft through a small tunnel where the abutment had been washed out by the stream. we emerged covered with cobwebs and sawdust, to be met by boys eagerly soliciting us to purchase their fish. the doctor, somewhat annoyed by their pertinacity as he vigorously dusted himself with his handkerchief, declared, in the vernacular of the river, that we were "clean busted;" and i have no doubt the lads believed his mild fib, for we looked just then as though we had seen hard times in our day. our general course had hitherto been northward, but was now eastward for a few miles and afterward southeastward as far as marquette. buffalo lake is seven miles long by from a third to three quarters of a mile broad. the banks are for the most part sandy, and from five to fifty feet high. the river here merely fills its bed; being deeper, the wild rice and reeds do not grow upon its skirts. were there a half-dozen more feet of water, the fox would be a chain of lakes from portage to oshkosh. as it is, we have buffalo, puckawa, and grand butte des morts, which are among the prettiest of the inland seas of wisconsin. the knolls about buffalo lake are pleasant, round-topped elevations, for the most part wooded, and between them are little prairies, generally sandy, but occasionally covered with dark loam. the day had, by noon, developed into one of the hottest of the season. the run down buffalo lake was a torrid experience long to be remembered. the air was motionless, the sky without clouds; we had good need of our awning. the doctor, who is always experimenting, picked up a flat stone on the beach, so warm as to burn his fingers, and tried to fry an egg upon it by simple solar heat, but the venture failed and a burning-glass was needed to complete the operation. montello occupies a position at the foot of the lake, commanding the entire sheet of water. the knoll upon which the village is for the most part built is nearly one hundred feet high, and the simple spire of an old white church pitched upon the summit is a landmark readily discernible in packwaukee, seven miles distant. there is a government lock at montello, and a small water-power. a levee protects from overflow a portion of the town which is situated somewhat below the lake level. the government pays the lock-keepers thirty dollars per month for about eight months in the year, and house-rent the year round. tollage is no longer required, and the keepers are obliged by the regulations of the engineering department to open the gates for all comers, even a saw-log. but the services of the keepers are so seldom required in these days that we find they are not to be easily roused from their slumbers, and it is easier and quicker to make the portage at the average up-river lock. our carry at montello was two and a half rods, over a sandy bank, where a solitary small boy, who had been catching crayfish with a dip-net, carefully examined our outfit and propounded the inquiry, "be you fellers on the guv'ment job?" below the lock for three or four miles, the river is again a mere canal, but the rigid banks of dredge-trash are for the most part covered with a thrifty vegetation, and have assumed charms of their own. this stage passed, and the river resumes a natural appearance,--a placid stream, with now and then a slough, or perhaps banks of peat and sand, ten feet high and fairly well hung with trees and shrubs. as we approach the head of lake puckawa, the widespreads broaden, with rows of hills two or three miles back, on either side,--the river mowing a narrow swath through the expanse of reeds and flags and rice which unites their bases. where the widespread becomes a pond, and the lake commences, there is a sandbar, the dregs of the upper channel. a government dredge-machine was at work, cutting out a water-way through the obstruction,--or, rather, had been at work, for it was seven o'clock by this time, the men had finished their supper, and were enjoying themselves upon the neat deck of the boarding-house barge, in a neighboring bayou, smoking their pipes and reading newspapers. it was a comfortable picture. a stern-wheel freight steamer, big and cumbersome, came slowly into the mouth of the channel as we left it, bound up, for montello. as we glided along her side, a safe distance from the great wheelbarrow paddle, she loomed above us, dark and awesome, like a whale overlooking a minnow. it was the "t. s. chittenden," wood-laden. the "chittenden" and the "ellen hardy" are the only boats navigating the upper fox this season, above berlin. their trips are supposed to be semi-weekly, but as a matter of fact they dodge around, all the way from winneconne to montello, picking up what freight they can and making a through trip perhaps once a week. it is poor picking, i am told, and the profits but barely pay for maintaining the service. there now being no place to land, without the great labor of poling the canoe through the dense reed swamp to the sides, we had supper on board,--the doctor deftly spreading a bit of canvas on the bottom between us, for a cloth, and attractively displaying our lunch to the best advantage. i leisurely paddled meanwhile, occasionally resting to take a mouthful or to sip of the lemonade, in the preparation of which the doctor is such an adept. and thus we drifted down lake puckawa, amid the delightful sunset glow and the long twilight which followed,--the doctor, cake in one hand and a glass of lemonade in the other, becoming quite animated in a detailed description of a patient he had seen in a vienna hospital, whose food was introduced through a slit in his throat. the doctor is an enthusiast in his profession, and would stop to advise st. peter, at the gate, to try his method for treating locksmith-palsy. we noticed a great number of black terns as we progressed, perched upon snags at the head of the lake. they are fearless birds, and would allow us to drift within paddle's length before they would rise and, slowly wheeling around our heads, settle again upon their roosts, as soon as we had passed on. lake puckawa is eight miles long by perhaps two miles wide, running west and east. five miles down the eastern shore, the quaint little village of marquette is situated on a pleasant slope which overlooks the lake from end to end. marquette is on the site of an indian fur-trading camp, this lake being for many years a favorite resort of the winnebagoes. there are about three hundred inhabitants there, and it is something of a mystery as to how they all scratch a living; for the town is dying, if not already dead,--about the only bit of life noticeable there being a rather pretty club-house owned by a party of chicago gentlemen, who come to lake puckawa twice a year to shoot ducks, it being one of the best sporting-grounds in the state. that is to say, they have heretofore come twice a year, but the villagers were bewailing the passage by the legislature, last winter, of a bill prohibiting spring shooting, thus cutting off the business of marquette by one half. marquette, like so many other dead river-towns, appears to have been at one time a community of some importance. there are two deserted saw-mills and two or three abandoned warehouses, all boarded up and falling into decay, while nearly every store-building in the place has shutters nailed over the windows, and a once substantial sidewalk has become such a rotten snare that the natives use the grass-grown street for a footpath. the good people are so tenacious of the rights of visiting sportsmen that there is no angling, i was told, except by visitors, and we inquired in vain for fish at the dilapidated little hotel where we slept and breakfasted. at the hostlery we were welcomed with open arms, and the landlady's boy, who officiated as clerk, porter, and chambermaid, assured us that the village schoolmaster had been the only guest for six weeks past. it is certainly a quiet spot. the doctor, who knows all about these things, diagnosed the lake and declared it to be a fine field for fly-fishing. he had waxed so enthusiastic over the numbers of nesting ducks which we disturbed as we came down through the reeds, in the early evening, that i had all i could do to keep him from breaking the new game law, although he stoutly declared that revolvers didn't count. the postmaster--a pleasant old gentleman in spectacles, who also keeps the drug store, deals in ammunition, groceries, and shoes, and is an agent for agricultural machinery--got very friendly with the doctor, and confided to him the fact that if the latter would come next fall to markesan, ten miles distant, over the sands, and telephone up that he was there, a team would be sent down for him; then, with the postmaster for a guide, fish and fowl would soon be obliged to seek cover. it is needless to add that the doctor struck a bargain with the postmaster and promised to be on hand without fail. i never saw our good friend so wild with delight, and the postmaster became as happy as if he had just concluded a cash contract for a car-load of ammunition. the schoolmaster, a very accommodating young man, helped us down to the beach this morning with our load. anticipating numerous lakes and widespreads, where we might gain advantage of the wind, we had brought a sprit sail along, together with a temporary keel. the sail helped us frequently yesterday, especially in buffalo lake, but the wind had died down after we passed montello. this morning, however, there was a good breeze again, but quartering, and the keel became essential. this we now attached to our craft, and it was nearly seven o'clock before we were off, although we had had breakfast at . . the "ellen hardy" was at the dock, loading with wheat for princeton. she is a trimmer, faster craft than the "chittenden." the engineer told us that the present stage of water was but two and a half feet in the upper fox, this year and last being the driest on record. he informed us that the freight business was "having the spots knocked off it" by the railroads, and there was hardly enough to make it worth while getting up steam. three miles down is the mouth of the lake. there being two outlets around a large marsh, we were somewhat confused in trying to find the proper channel. we ascertained, after going a mile and a half out of our way to the south, that the northern extremity of the marsh is the one to steer for. the river continues to wind along between marshy shores, although occasionally hugging a high bank of red clay or skirting a knoll of shifting sand; now and then these knolls rise to the dignity of hills, red with sorrel and sparsely covered with scrubby pines and oaks. it was noon when we reached the lock above princeton. the lock-keeper, a remarkably round-shouldered german, is a pleasant, gossipy fellow, fond of his long pipe and his very fat frau. upon invitation, we made ourselves quite at home in the lock-house, a pleasant little brick structure in a plot of made land, the entire establishment having that rather stiffly neat, ship-shape appearance peculiar to life-saving stations, navy-yards, and military barracks. the good frau steeped for us a pot of tea, and in other ways helped us to grace our dinner, which we spread on a bench under a grape arbor, by the side of the yawning stone basin of the lock. the "ellen hardy," which had left marquette nearly an hour later than we, came along while we were at dinner, waking the echoes with three prolonged steam groans. we took advantage of the circumstance to lock through in her company. this was our first experience of the sort, so we were naturally rather timid as we brushed her great paddle, going in, and stole along under her overhanging deck, for she quite filled the lock. the captain kindly allowed the liliputian to glide through in advance of his steamer, however, when the gates were once more opened, and we felt, as we shot out, as though we had emerged from under the belly of a monster. beaching again, below the lock, we returned to finish our dinner. the keeper asked for a ride to princeton village, three miles below, and we admitted him to our circle,--pipe, market-basket and all, though it caused the canoe to sink uncomfortably near to the gunwale. going down, our voluble friend talked very freely about his affairs. he said that his pay of $ per month ran from about the middle of april to the first of december, and averaged him, the year round, about $ and house-rent. he had but little to do, and got along very comfortably on the twenty-five acres of marsh-land which the government owned, by raising pigs and cows, a few vegetables, and hay enough for his stock. he admitted that this was "a heap better" than he could do in the fatherland. "i shoost dell you, mine frient," he said to me, as he grinned and refilled his pipe, "dot shermany vos a nice guntry, and bismarck he vos a grade feller, und i vos brout i vos a sherman; but i dells mine vooman vot i dells you,--i mooch rahder read aboud 'em in mine sherman newsbaper, dan vot i voot leef dere myself, already. i roon avay vrom dem conscrip' fellers, und i shoost never seed de time vot i voot go back again. in dot ol' guntry, i vos nuttings boot a beasant feller; unt in dis guntry i vos a goov'ment off'cer, vich makes grade diff'rence, already." he chuckled a good deal to himself when asked what he thought about the fox-wisconsin river-improvement, but finally said that government must spend its surplus some way,--if not in this, it would in another,--and he could not object to a scheme which gave him his bread and butter. he said that the improvement operations scattered a good deal of money throughout the valley, for labor and supplies, but expressed his doubts as to the ultimate national value of the work, unless the shifting wisconsin river, thus far unnavigable for steamers, should be canalled from the portage to its mouth. he is an honest fellow, and appears to utilize his abundance of leisure in reading the newspapers. at princeton village,--a thriving country town on a steep bank, with unkempt backyards running down to and defiling the river,--we again came across the "ellen hardy." she was unloading her light cargo of wheat as we arrived, and left princeton an eighth of a mile behind us. we now had a pleasant little race to white river lock, seven miles below. with sail set, and paddles to help, we led her easily as far as the lock. but we thought to gain time by portaging over the dam, and she gained a lead of at least a mile, although we frequently caught sight of her towering white hull across the widespreads, by dint of standing on the thwarts and peering over the tall walls of wild rice which shut us in as closely as though we had been canoeing in a railroad cut. it had been fair and cloudy by turns to-day, but delightfully cool,--a wonderful improvement on yesterday, when we fairly sweltered, coming down buffalo lake. in the middle of the afternoon, below white river, a thunder-storm overtook us in a widespread several miles in extent. seeking a willow island which abutted on the channel, we made a tent of the sail and stood the brief storm quite comfortably. we then pushed on, and, rubber-coated, weathered the few clearing showers in the boat, for we were anxious to reach berlin by evening. at berlin lock, twelve miles below white river, we portaged the dam, and, getting into a two-mile current, ate our supper on board. the river now begins to have firmer banks, and to approach the ridges upon the southern rim of its basin. we reached berlin in the twilight, the landscape of hill and meadow being softened in the golden glow. the better portion of this beautiful little city of forty-five hundred inhabitants is situated on a ridge, closely skirted by the river, with the poorer quarters on the flats spreading away on either side. there are many charming homes and the main business street has an air of active prosperity. we went into dock alongside of the "ellen hardy." third letter the mascoutins. oshkosh, wis., june , . my dear w----: as we passed out of berlin this morning, a government dredger was at work by the river-side. we paused on our paddles for some time, to watch the workings of the ingenious mechanism. there was something demoniac in the action of the monster, as it craned its jointed neck amid a quick chorus of jerky puffs from the engine and an accompaniment of rattling chains. reaching far out over the bubbling water, it would open its great iron jaws with a savage clank and, pausing a moment to gather its energies, dive swiftly into the roily depth; after swaying to and fro as if struggling with its prey, it soon reappeared, bearing in its filthy maw a ton or two of blue-black ooze, the water escaping through its teeth in a score of hissing torrents; then, turning aside to the heap of dredge-trash, suddenly vomited forth the foul-smelling mess, and returned for another charge. it was a singularly fascinating sight, though wofully uncanny. from berlin down to omro, pleasant prairie slopes come down at intervals to the water's edge, on the south bank; the feature of the north side being wide expanses of bog, the home of the cranberry, for which this region is famous. the best marshes, however, are the pockets, back among the ridges; from these, great drainage-ditches, with flooding gates, come furrowing through the peat, in dark lines as straight as an arrow, and empty into the river. it was somewhere about here, nearer berlin than omro,--but exactly where, no man now knoweth,--that the ancient indian "nation" of the mascoutins was located over two centuries ago; their neighbors, if not their village comrades, being the miamis and the kickapoos. champlain, the intrepid founder of quebec, had heard of their warring disposition as early as . in jean nicolet, the first white man known to have set foot upon territory now included in the state of wisconsin, came in a bark canoe as far up the fox river as the mascoutins, and after stopping a time with them, journeyed southward to the country of the illinois.[ ] allouez and his companions also came hither in , and the good father, in the official report of his adventurous canoeing trip, says the fort of these people was located a french league ( . english miles) "over beautiful prairies" to the south of the river. joliet and marquette, on their way to discover the mississippi river, arrived at the fort of the mascoutins on june , , and the latter gives this graceful sketch of the oak openings hereabouts, which have not meanwhile perceptibly changed their characteristics: "i felt no little pleasure in beholding the position of this town; the view is beautiful and very picturesque, for from the eminence on which it is perched, the eye discovers on every side prairies spreading away beyond its reach, interspersed with thickets or groves of lofty trees." the mascoutins are now a lost tribe. as the result of warring habits, they in turn were crowded to the wall, and a generation after marquette's visit the banks of their river knew them no more; the foxes, from whom the stream ultimately took its name, were then predominant, and long continued the masters of the highway. sacramento--"as dead as a door-nail, sir"--lies sprawled out over a pleasant riverside slope to the south. there is the customary air of fallen grandeur at sacramento,--big hopes gone to decay; battlement-fronts, houseless cellars, a universal lack of paint. the railroads, the real highways of our present civilization, have killed these little river towns that are away from the track, and they will never be resurrected. the day of inland water navigation, except for canoeists, is nearing its close. settlement clings to the neighborhood of the rails, and generally avoids rivers as an obstruction to free transit. the towns that have to be reached by a country ferry are rotting,--they are off the line of progress. sacramento boasts a spouting well by the river-bank, a mammoth village ash-leach, and fond memories of the day when it was "a bigger town than berlin." as we stood in the spray of the fountain, filling our canteen with the purest and coldest of water, i speculated upon the strong probability of sacramento being on the identical bank where the jesuits beached their canoes to walk across country to the old indian village. and the doctor, apt to be irreverent as to aboriginal lore, suggested that the defunct sacramento should have written over its gate this motto: "gone to join the mascoutins!" eureka, a few miles farther down, is also paintless, and her river-front is artistic with the crumbling ruins of two or three long-deserted saw-mills. a new eureka appears, however, to be slowly building up, to one side of the dead little hamlet,--for there are smart steam flouring-mill and a model little cheese-factory in full swing here. the cheese man, an accommodating young fellow who appeared quite up to the times, and is a direct shipper to the london market, took a just pride in showing us over his establishment, and stocked our mess-box with samples of his best brands. omro spreads over a sandy plain, upon both sides of the river,--an excellent wagon-bridge crossing the stream near that of the chicago, milwaukee, and st. paul railway. omro, which is the headquarters of the wisconsin spiritualists, who have quite a settlement hereabouts, is growing somewhat, after a long period of stagnation, having at present a population of fifteen hundred. the "ellen hardy," which had now caught up with us, after chasing the canoe from berlin down, went through the draw in our company. as the crew rolled off a small consignment of freight, the captain--a raw-boned, red-faced, and thoroughly good-humored man--leaned out of the pilot-house window and pleasantly chaffed us about our lowly conveyance. the conversation ended by his offering to give us a "lift" through the great winneconne widespread, to the point where the wolf joins the fox, nine or ten miles below. the "ellen" was bound for winneconne and other points up the wolf, so could help us no farther. of course we accepted the kindly offer, and fastening our painter to a belaying-pin on the "ellen's" port, scrambled up to the freight-deck just as the pilot-bell rang "forward!" in the smoky little engine-room far aft. while i went aloft to enjoy the bird's-eye view obtainable from the pilot-house, the doctor discussed fishing with the engineer, whom he found on closer acquaintance to be a rare, though much-begrimed philosopher. this engineer is a wizened-up little man, with a face like a prematurely dried apple, but his eyes gleam with a kindly light, and he is an inveterate angler. we had noticed him at every stopping stage,--his head, shoulders, and arms reaching out of the abbreviated rear window of his caboose,--dangling a line astern. the doctor learned that this was his invariable habit. he kept the cook's galley in fish, and utilized each leisure half-hour in the pursuit of his favorite amusement. the engineer, good man, had fished, he said, in nearly every known sea, and the doctor declared that he "could many a wondrous fish-tale unfold." in fact, the doctor declared him to be the most interesting character he had ever met with, outside of a hospital, and said he should surely report to his favorite medical journal this remarkable case of abnormal persistency in an art, amid the most discouraging physical surroundings. he thought the man's brain should be dissected, in the cause of science. the wolf, which has its rise miles nor'-nor'west of green bay, in a forest-county lakelet, and takes generous, south-trending curves away down to lake poygan, is properly the noble stream which pours into lake winnebago from the northwest, and then, with a mighty rush, forces its way northeastward to the great lakes, along the base of the watershed which parallels the western coast of lake michigan and terminates in the sands of the sturgeon-bay country. the jesuit fathers, in seeking the mississippi, traced this river above lake winnebago, and on reaching the great widespread at the head of the grand butte des morts, where the tributary flowing from the southwest empties its lazy flood into the rushing fox, pursued that tributary to the portage and erroneously called their highway by one name, from green bay to the carry. thus the long-unexplored main river, above the junction, came to be treated on the maps as a tributary, and to be dubbed the wolf. this geographical mistake has been so long persisted in that correction becomes impracticable, and we must continue to style the branch the trunk. this has been a delightful day; the heavens were clear and blue, and a gentle northeaster fanned our faces in the pilot-house, from which vantage-point, nearly thirty feet above the river-level, there was obtainable a bird's-eye view well worthy of canvas. the wild-rice bog, through which the fox, here not over thirty yards wide, twists like the snapper of a whip, is from ten to fifteen miles wide,--a sea of living green, across which the breeze sends a regular succession of waves, losing themselves upon the far-distant shores. upon the northwestern horizon, the wolf comes stealing down at the base of a range of wooded hills. to the west, a flashing line tells where lake poygan "holds her mirror to the sun." the tall smoke-stacks of the winneconne saw-mills occupy the middle ground westward. to the east, in the centre of the picture, one catches glimpses of the consolidated stream, as its goodly flood quickly glides southeasterly, on a short spurt toward the grand butte des morts, at the head of which is the old fur-trading village of the same name. far southeastward, below the lake, there is just discernible the great brick chimney of a mammoth planing-mill,--an algoma landmark,--and just behind that the black cloud resting above the oshkosh factories. it is a broad, bounteous sweep of level landscape,--monotonous, of course, but imposing from mere immensity. at the union of the rivers we bade farewell to our friend the captain; and the doctor secured a promise from the engineer to send in his photograph to the hospital with which the former is connected. the "ellen hardy" stopped her engine as we cast off. in another minute, the great stern-wheel began to splash again, and we were bobbing up and down on the bubbly swell, waving farewell to our fellow-travelers and turning our prow to the southeast, while the roving "ellen" shaped her course to winneconne, where a lot of laths, destined for princeton, awaited her arrival. the low ridge which forms the eastern bank of the wolf, down to the junction, soon slopes off to the northeast, in the direction of appleton, leaving a broad, level plain, of great fertility, between it and lakes grand butte des morts and winnebago. on this plain are built the cities of oshkosh, neenah, and menasha. across it, the northeaster, freshening to a lively breeze, had full sweep, and stirred up the grand butte des morts into a wild display of opposition to our progress. serried ranks of white-caps came sweeping across the lake, beating on our port bow, and the little sail, almost bursting with fulness, careened the canoe to the gunwale, as it swept gayly along through the foam. the paddles were necessary to keep her well abreast of the tide, and there was exercise enough in the operation to prevent drowsiness. the spray flew like a drizzling summer shower, but our baggage and stores were well covered down, and the weather was too warm for a body dampener to be uncomfortable. we passed the dark, gloomy, tumbled-down, but picturesque village of butte des morts, just before entering the lake. of the twenty-five or so houses in the place, all but two or three are guiltless of paint. there is a quaintness about the simple architecture, which gives butte des morts a distinctive appearance. to the initiated, it betokens the remains of an old fur-trading post; and this was the genesis of butte des morts. it was in that augustin grignon and james porlier, men intimately connected with the history of the french-indian fur-trade in wisconsin, set up their shanty dwellings and warehouses on a little lakeside knoll a mile below the present village, which was founded by their _voyageurs_ on the site of an old menomonee town and cemetery. some of these post-buildings, together with the remains of the watch-tower, from which the traders obtained long advance notice of the approach of travelers, red or white, are still standing. as we sped by, i pointed out to the doctor the location of these venerable relics, which i had, with proper enthusiasm, carefully inspected fully a dozen summers before, and he suggested that the knowledge of the approach of a possible customer, by means of the tower, gave the traders an excellent opportunity to mark up the goods. james porlier's son and successor, louis b. porlier, now an aged man, is the present occupant of the establishment, which is one of the oldest landmarks in wisconsin; and there, also, died the famous augustin grignon, historian of his clan. butte des morts, in the early day of the northwest, was something more than a trading-post. situated near the union of the upper fox and the wolf, it was the rallying-point for both valleys,--long before appleton, neenah, menasha or oshkosh were known, or any of the towns on the upper fox. it was the only white man's stopping-place between the portage and kaukauna. the mail trail between green bay and the portage crossed here,--for strange to say, the great south-stretching widespread, which lies like a map before the village, was in those days firm enough for a horse to traverse with safety; while to-day a boat can be pushed anywhere between the rushes and rice, and it is _par excellence_ the great breeding-ground of this section for muskrats and water-fowl. a scow-ferry was maintained in pioneer times for the benefit of the mail-carrier and other travelers. butte des morts is mentioned in most of the journals left us by travelers over the fox-wisconsin watercourse, previous to , and here several important indian treaties were consummated by government commissioners. it is somewhat over fifteen miles from the mouth of the wolf to oshkosh. the run down the lake seemed unusually protracted, for the city was clearly in sight the entire way, and the distance, over the flat expanse, was deceptive. algoma, now a portion of oshkosh, was something of a settlement long before the lower town began to grow. but the latter finally overtook and swallowed the original hamlet. algoma is now chiefly devoted to the homes of the employees in the great planing and saw-milling establishments of philetus sawyer, wisconsin's senior united states senator, and the wealthy paine brothers. the residences of these lumber kings are on a slope to the north of the iron wagon-bridge, under which we swept as the booming whistles of the busy locality, in unison with a noisy chorus of steam-gongs farther down the river, sounded the hour of six. through the gantlet of the mills, with their outlying rafts, their lines of piling, and their great yards of newly sawn lumber, we sped quickly on. a half-hour later, we were turning up into a peaceful little dock alongside the south approach to the st. paul railway-bridge, the canoe's quarters for the night. the sun was just plunging below the clear-cut prairie horizon, as we walked across the fields to the home of our expectant friends. footnote: [ ] butterfield's "discovery of the northwest" (cincinnati, ). fourth letter. the land of the winnebagoes. appleton, wis., june , . my dear w----: we had a late start to-day from oshkosh. it was half-past nine o'clock by the time we had reloaded our traps, pushed off from the railway embankment, and received the god-speed of m----, who had come down to see us off. the busy town, with its twenty-two thousand thrifty people, was all astir. the factories and the mills were resonant with the clang and rattle of industry, and across the two wagon-bridges of the city proper there were continual streams of traffic. i suppose that oshkosh is, in its way, as widely known throughout this country as almost any city in it. the name is strikingly outlandish, being equaled only by kalamazoo, and furnishes the butt of many a newspaper joke and comic rhyme. old chief oshkosh, whose cognomen signifies "brave" in menomonee speech, was the head man of his dusky tribe, a half-century ago. he was a doughty, wrinkled hero, o'er fond of fire-water, and wore a battered silk hat for a crown. about , when the settlement here was four years old, the government offered to establish a post-office if the inhabitants would unite on a name for the place. the whites favored athens, but the indians, half-breeds, and traders round about butte des morts, wanted their friend oshkosh immortalized, so they came down to the new settlement in force, and the election being a free-for-all, carried the day. it is said that the grignons were so anxious in behalf of the menomonee sachem that they had a number of squaws array themselves in trousers and cast ballots like the bucks. and it was fortunate, as events proved, that the election turned out as it did, for the oddity of the name has been a permanent advertisement for a very bright community. oshkosh, as hackneyed "athens," would have been lost to fame. nobody would think of going to "athens" to "have fun with the boys." the morning air was as clear as a bell,--a pleasant northeast zephyr, coming in off the body of the lake, slightly ruffling the surface and reducing the temperature to a delightful tone. the wind not being fair, the sail was useless, so we paddled along through the broad river, into the lake and northward past a fishermen's colony, rows of great ice-houses, the water-works park, and beautiful lake-shore residences, to garlic island. it was half-past twelve, p.m., when we tied up at the crazy pier which projects from this islet of the loud-smelling vegetable. a half-century ago garlic island was the home of iowatuk, the beautiful aboriginal relict of a french fur-trader,--an indian princess, the old settlers called her; at all events, she is reputed to have been a most exemplary person, well-possessed of this world's goods, as well as a large family of half-breed children. the island is charmingly situated, a half-mile or more out from the main land, opposite the northern insane hospital; it is a forest of ancient elms, surrounded by a bowlder-strewn beach of some three quarters of a mile in length, and occupied by a summer-hotel establishment. the name "garlic island" does not sound very well for a fashionable resort, so the insular territory has been dubbed "island park" of late; but "garlic" has good staying qualities, and i doubt if they can ever efface the objectionable pioneer title. we had our dinner on the sward near the pier, convenient to a pump, and were entertained by watching the approach of a little steam-launch, loaded with a party of "resorters" who had doubtless been shopping in oshkosh, the smoke from whose chimneys rose above the tree-tops, five miles to the southwest. there were some of the usual types,--the languid southern woman, with her two pouting boys in charge of a rather savage-looking colored nurse, who dragged the little fellows out over the gang-plank, one in each hand, as though they had been bags of flour; a fashionable dame, from some northern metropolis, all ribbons and furbelows, starch and whalebones, accompanied by her willowy daughter of twenty, almost her counterpart as to dress, with a pert young miss of fourteen, in abbreviated gown and overgrown hat, bringing up the rear with the family pug; a dawdling young anglo-maniac sucked the handle of his cane and looked sweetly on the society girl, whose papa, apparently a tired-out broker, in a well made business costume and a wretched straw hat, stayed behind to treat the skipper to a prime cigar and arrange for a fishing excursion. there is a fine view from the island. the hills and cliffs of calumet county, a dozen miles to the east, are dimly visible. toward fond du lac, on the south, the horizon is the lake. south-southwestward, black wolf point runs out, just over the verge, and the tops of the tall trees upon it peep up into view, like shadowy pile-work. westward are the well-kept hospital grounds, fringed with stately elms overhanging the firm, gravelly beach, studded with ice-heaved bowlders, which extends northward to neenah. the view to the north and northeast is delightfully hazy, being now dark with delicate fringes of forest which cap the occasional limestone promontories, and again losing itself in a watery sky-line. we had two pleasant hours at this island-home of the lovely iowatuk, walking around it on the bowldered beach, and reveling in the shade of the grand old elms. by the time we were ready to resume our voyage, the wind had died down, the lake was as smooth as a marble slab, and the sun's rays reflected from it converted the atmosphere to the temperature of a bake-oven. no sooner had we pushed out beyond the deep shadows of the trees than it seemed as though we had at one paddle-stroke shot into the waters of a tropic sea. the awning was at once raised, and served to somewhat mitigate our sufferings, but the dazzling reflection was there still, to the great discomfort of our eyes. after two miles of distress, a bank of light but sharply broken clouds appeared on the northeastern horizon, and soon a gentle breeze brought blessed relief. in a few minutes more, ripples danced upon our starboard quarter, and then the awning had to come down, for it filled like a fixed sail and counteracted the effect of the paddles. the doctor, who, you know full well, never paddles when he can sail, insisted on running up into the wind and spreading the canvas. he was just in time, for a squall struck us as he was adjusting the boom sprit, and nearly sent him overboard while attempting to regain his seat. little black squalls now rapidly succeeded each other, the wind freshening between the gusts; and the doctor, who was the sailing-master, had to exercise rare vigilance, for the breeze was rapidly developing into a young gale, and the ripples had now grown to be by far the largest waves our little craft had yet encountered. the situation began to be somewhat serious, as the clouds thickened and the white-caps broke upon the west beach with a sullen roar. we therefore deemed it advisable to run into a little harbor to the lee of a wooded spit, and hold council. it was a wild, storm-tossed headland, two thirds of the distance down from the island, and the spit was but one of its many points. we landed and made an extended exploration, deeming it possible that we might be obliged to pass the night here; but the result of our discoveries was to discourage any such project. for a half-mile back or more the forest proved to be a tangled swamp, filled with fallen timber and sink-holes, while quicksands lined the harbor where the canoe peacefully rested behind an outlying fringe of gnarled elms. we wandered up and down the gravelly beach, in the spray of the breakers, scrambling over great bowlders and overhanging trunks whose foundations had been sapped by storm-driven floods; but everywhere was the same hard, forbidding scene of desolation, with the angry surface of the lake and the canopy of wind-clouds filling out a picture which, the doctor suggested, could have only been satisfactorily executed in water-colors. in the course of our wanderings, which were sadly destructive to clothes and shoe-leather, we had some comical adventures. the doctor hasn't got over laughing about one of them yet. we came to an apparently shallow lagoon, perhaps three rods wide and a dozen long, beyond which we desired to penetrate. it was bedded with sand and covered with green slime. the doctor had, just before, divested himself of shoes and stockings and rolled his trousers above his knees, in an enthusiastic hunt for a particularly ponderous frog, which he desired to pickle in the cause of science. he playfully offered to carry me across the pool on his back, and thus save me the trouble of imitating his style of undress. with some misgivings as to the result, i finally mounted. we progressed favorably as far as the centre, when suddenly i felt my transport sinking; he gave a desperate lunge as the water suddenly reached his waist, i sprang forward over his head, and losing my balance, sprawled out flat upon the slimy water. i hardly know how we reached firm ground again, but when we did, we were a sorry-looking pair, as you can well imagine. the doctor thought it high sport, as he wrung out his clothes and spread them upon a bowlder to dry, and i tried hard to join in his boisterous hilarity; but somehow, as i scraped the gluey slime from my only canoeing suit, with a bit of old drift shingle, and contemplated the soppy condition of my wardrobe, i know there must have been a tinge of sadness in my gaze. it was too much like being shipwrecked on a desert island. as we sat, clad in rubber coats, sunning ourselves on the lee side of a fallen tree and waiting for our garments to again become wearable, the doctor read to me an article from his medical journal, describing a novel surgical operation on somebody's splintered backbone, copiously illustrating the selection with vivid reports of his own hospital observations in that direction. this sort of thing was well calculated to send the shivers down one's spinal column, but the doctor certainly made the theme quite interesting and the half-hour necessary to the drying process soon passed. by this time it was plain to be seen that the velocity of the wind was not going to increase before sundown, although it had not slacked. we determined to try the sea again, and pushed out through the breakers, with sail close-hauled and baggage canvased. taking a bold offing into the teeth of the gale, we ran out well into the lower lake, and then, on a port tack, had a fine run down to doty's island, which divides the lower fox into two channels. the city of neenah, noted for its flouring and paper mills, is built upon both sides of the southern channel, or neenah river; menasha, with several factories, but apparently less prosperous than the other, guards the north channel,--the twin cities dividing the island between them. the government lock is at menasha, while at neenah there is a fine water-power, with a fall of twelve or fifteen feet,--the "winnebago rapids" of olden time. it was into neenah channel that we came flying so gayly, before the wind. there is a fine park on the mainland shore, with a smartly painted summer hotel and half a dozen pretty cottages that would do credit to a seaside resort. to the right the island is studded with picturesque old elms, shading a closely cropped turf, upon which cattle peacefully graze, while here and there among the trees are old-fashioned white cottages, with green blinds, quite after the style of a sleepy new-england village,--a charming scene of semi-rustic life; while to seaward lake winnebago tosses and rolls, almost to the horizon. doty's is an historic landmark. the rapids here necessitated a portage, and from the earliest times there have been indian villages on the island, more or less permanent in character,--menomonee, fox, and winnebago in turn. as white traffic over the fox-wisconsin watercourse grew, so grew the importance of this village, whatever the tribe of its inhabitants; for the bucks found employment in helping the empty boats over the rapids and in "toting" the goods over the portage-trail. the foxes overreached themselves by setting up as toll-gatherers. it is related--but historians are somewhat misty as to the details--that in the winter of - a french captain, marin by name, was sent out by the governor of new france to chastise the blackmailers. at the head of a large party of french creoles and half-breeds, he ascended the lower fox on snowshoes, surprising the aborigines in their principal village, here at winnebago rapids, and slaughtering them by the hundreds. afterward, this same marin conducted a summer expedition against the foxes. his boats were filled with armed men and covered down with oilcloth, as traders were wont to treat their goods _en voyage_, to escape a wetting. only two men were visible in each boat, paddling and steering. nearly fifteen hundred dusky tax-gatherers were discovered squatting on the beach at the foot of the rapids, awaiting the arrival of the flotilla. the canoes were ranged along the shore. upon a signal being given, the coverings were thrown off and volley after volley of hot lead poured into the mob of unsuspecting savages, a swivel-gun in marin's boat aiding in the slaughter. tradition has it that over a thousand foxes fell in that brutal assault. in another captain of new france, named de louvigny, is reported to have stormed the audacious foxes. they had not, it seems, been exterminated by previous massacres, for five hundred warriors and three thousand squaws are alleged to have been collected within a palisaded fort, somewhere in the neighborhood of these rapids. de louvigny is credited with having captured the fort after a three days' siege, but granted the enemy the honors of war. twelve years later the foxes had again become so troublesome as to need chastisement. this time the agent chosen to command the expedition was de lignery, among whose lieutenants was the noted charles de langlade, wisconsin's first white settler. but the redskins had become wise, after their fashion, and fled before the frenchmen, who found the villages on the fox, lower and upper, deserted. the invaders burned every wigwam and cornfield in sight, from green bay to the portage. this expedition appears to have been followed by others, until the foxes, with the allied sacs, fled the valley, never to return. much of this is traditionary. the widening of the fox below doty's island was called lac petit butte des morts,--"lake little hill of the dead," to distinguish it from the "great hill of the dead," above oshkosh. it has long been claimed that the thousands of foxes who at various times fell victims to these massacres in behalf of the french fur-trade were buried in great pits at petit butte des morts,--near winnebago rapids. but modern investigators lean to the opinion that the "little hill of the dead" was merely an ordinary indian cemetery, and the mound or mounds there are prehistoric tumuli, common enough in the neighborhood of wisconsin lakes. a like conclusion, also, has been arrived at in regard to the grand butte des morts. however, this is something that the archæological committee must settle among themselves. the winnebagoes succeeded the foxes, and doty's island became the seat of their power. the master spirit among them for a quarter of a century previous to the fall of new france was a french fur-trader named de korra or de cora, who had a winnebago "princess" for a squaw. they had a numerous progeny, which de korra left to his wife's charge when called to serve under montcalm in the defence of quebec. he was killed in a sortie, and madame de korra and her brood relapsed into barbarism. one half of the winnebagoes now living are descendants, more or less direct, of this sturdy old fur-trader, and bear his name, which is also perpetuated, with varied orthography, in many a northwestern stream and hamlet. during the first third of the present century hoo-tschope, or four legs, was the dusky magnate at this winnebago capital.[ ] four legs was a cunning rascal, well known to the earliest pioneers, but he at last fell a victim to his greatest enemy, the bottle. last month i was visiting among the winnebagoes around black river falls. desiring to have a "talk" with walking cloud, a wizened-faced redskin of some seventy-two years, i went out with my interpreters over the hills and through the valley of the black, nearly a dozen miles, before i found him and his squatting in their wigwams at the base of a bold bluff, fronted by a lovely bit of vale. cloud's decrepit squaw, blind in one eye and wofully garrulous, hobbled up to us, and sinking to her knees in front of me, held out a dirty, bony hand, with nails like the claws of a bird, murmuring, "give! give!" i dropped a coin into the outstretched palm; she grinned and chattered like an animated skeleton, and crawled away on her witch-like crutch. this was the once far-famed and beautiful princess of the winnebagoes, the winsome champche keriwinke, or flash of lightning, eldest daughter of hoo-tschope. how are the mighty fallen! we portaged around the island end of the neenah dam and met the customary shallows below the obstruction. but soon finding a narrow, rock-imbedded channel, we glided swiftly down the stream, through the thrifty town, past the mills and under the bridges, just as the six o'clock bells had sounded and the factory hands were thronging homeward, their tin dinner-pails glistening in the sun. scores of them stopped to lean over the bridge-rails, and curiously watched us as we threaded the shallows; for canoes long ago ceased to be a daily spectacle at winnebago rapids. little lake butte des morts, just below, is where the river spreads to a full mile in breadth, the average width of the stream being less than one half that. the wind was fair, and we came swooping down into the lake, which is two or three miles long. a half-hour before sunset we hauled up at a high mossy glade on the north shore, and had delightful down-stream glimpses of deep vine-clad, naturally terraced banks, the slopes and summits being generally well wooded. a party of young men and women were having a camp near us. the woods echoed with their laughing shouts. a number, with their chaperone, a lovely and lively old lady, in a white cap with satin ribbons, came down to the shore to inspect our little vessel and question us as to our unusual voyage. we returned the call and played lawn tennis with fair partners, until the fact that we must reach appleton to-night suddenly dawned upon us, and we bade a hasty farewell to our joyous wayside friends. it was a charming run down to appleton, between the park-like banks, which rise to an altitude of fifty feet or more. every now and then a pretty summer residence stands prominently out upon a bluff-head, an architectural gem in a setting of oaks and luxurious pines. at their bases flows the deep flood of the lower fox, black as erebus in the shadows, but smiling brightly in the patchy sunlight, and thickly decked with great bubbles which fairly leap along the course, eager to reach their far-off ocean goal. but swifter by far than the bubbles went our canoe as we set the paddles deeply and bent to our work, for the waters were strange to us, the night was setting in, and appleton must be made. it will not do to traverse these rivers after dark unless well acquainted with the currents, the snags, and the dams, for disaster may readily overtake the unwary. cautiously we now crept along, for in the fast-fading twilight we could just discern the outlines of the appleton paper-mills and a labyrinth of railway bridges, while the air fairly trembled with the mingled roar of water and of mighty gearing. across the rapid stream shot piercing rays from the windows of the electric works, whose dynamos furnish light for the town and power for the street railway. a fisherman, tugging against the current, shouted to us to keep hard on the eastern bank, and in a few minutes more we glided by the stone pier which buttresses the upper dam, and pulled up in a little dead-water cove at the base of the milwaukee and northern railway bridge. the bridge-tender's children came down to meet us; the man himself soon followed; we were permitted to chain up for the night at his pier, and to deposit our bulky baggage in his kitchen; he accompanied us over the long bridge which spans the noisy apron and the rushing race. a misstep between the ties would send one on a short cut to the hereafter, but we safely crossed, ascended two or three steep flights of stairs to the top of the bank, and in a minute or two more were speeding up town to our hotel, aboard an electric street railway car. footnote: [ ] see mrs. kinzie's "wau-bun" for reminiscences of four legs. fifth letter. locked through. little kaukauna, wis., june , . my dear w----: we took an extended stroll around appleton after breakfast. it is a beautiful city,--the gem of the lower fox. the banks are nearly one hundred feet high above the river level. they are deeply cut with ravines. hillside torrents, quickly formed by heavy rains, as quickly empty into the stream, draining the plateau of its superfluous surface water, and in the operation carving these great gulches through the soft clay. and so there are many steep inclines in the appleton highways, and the ravines are frequently bridged by dizzy trestle-works; but the greater part of the city is on a high, level plain, the wealthy dwellers courting the summits of the river banks, where the valley view is panoramic. the little methodist college, with its high-sounding title of lawrence university, is an excellent institution, and said to be growing; it gives a certain scholastic tinge to appleton society, which might otherwise be given up to the worship of mammon, for there is much wealth among the manufacturers who rule the city, and prosperity attends their reign. there is a good natural water-power here, but the fox-wisconsin improvement has made it one of the finest in the world. if the improvement scheme is a flat failure elsewhere, as is beginning to be generally believed, it certainly has been the making of this valley of the lower fox. from lake winnebago down to the mouth, the rapids are frequent, the chief being at neenah, appleton, kaukauna, little kaukauna, and depere. of the twenty-six locks from portage down, seventeen are below our stopping-point of last night; the fall at each, at this stage of water being about twelve feet on the average. each of these locks involves a dam; and when the stream is thus stemmed and all repairs maintained, at the expense of the general government, it is a simple matter to tap the reservoir, carry a race along the bank, and have water-power _ad libitum_. not half the water-power in sight, not a tenth of that possible is used. there is enough here, experts declare, to turn the machinery of the world. no wonder the beautiful valley of the lower fox is rich, and growing richer. it was no holiday excursion to portage around the appleton locks this morning. at none of them could we find the tenders, for the menasha lock being broken, there is no through navigation from oshkosh to green bay this week, and way traffic is slight. we had neglected to furnish ourselves with a tin horn, and the vigorous use of lung power failed to achieve the desired result. the banks being steep and covered with rock chips left by the stone-cutters employed on the work, we had some awkward carries, and felt, as we finally passed the cordon and set out on the straight eastward stretch for kaukauna, that we were earning our daily bread. kaukauna, the grand kackalin of the jesuits and early french traders, is ten miles below appleton. here are the most formidable rapids on the river, the fall being sixty feet, down an irregular series of jagged limestone stairs some half mile in extent. indians, in their light bark canoes and practically without baggage, can, in high water, make the passage, up or down, by closely hugging the deeper and stiller water on the north bank; but the french traders invariably portaged their goods, allowing the voyageurs to carry over the empty boats, the men walking in the water by the side, pushing, hauling, and balancing, amid a stream of oaths from their bourgeois, or master, who remained at his post. i had had an idea that in our little craft we might safely make the venture of a shoot down the stairs, by exercising caution and following the indian channel. but this was previous to arrival. leaving the doctor to guard the canoe from a crowd of kaukauna urchins, who were disposed to be over-familiar with our property, i went down through a boggy field to view the situation. it is a grand sight, looking up from the bottom of the rapids. the water is low, and at every few rods masses of rock project above the seething flood, specimens of what line the channel. the torrent comes down with a mighty roar, lashing itself into a fury of spray and foam as it leaps around and over the obstructions, and takes great lunges from step to step. there are several curves in the basin of the cataract, which add to its artistic effect, while it is deeply fringed by stunted pines and scrub oaks, having but a slender footing in the shallow turf which covers the underlying stratum of limestone. whatever may be the condition of the falls at kaukauna in high water, it is certain that at this stage a canoe would be dashed to splinters quite early in the attempt to scale them. but a portage of half a mile was not to our taste in the torrid temperature we have been experiencing to-day, and we determined to maintain the rights of free navigators by obliging the tenders to put us through the five great locks, which are here necessary to lower vessels from the upper to the lower level. these tenders receive ample compensation, and many of them are notoriously lazy. it is but seldom that they are compelled to exercise their muscles on the gates; for navigation on the fox is spasmodic and unimportant. as i have said in one of my previous letters, even a saw-log has the right of way; and government paid a goodly sum to the speculators from whom it purchased this improvement, that free tollage might be established here for all time. and so it was that, perhaps soured a little by our appleton experience, we determined at last to test the matter and assert the privileges of american citizens on a national highway. on regaining my messmate, we took a general view of kaukauna,--which spreads over the banks and a prairie bottom on both sides of the river, and is a growing, bustling, freshly built little factory town,--and then re-embarked to try our fortune at the lock-gates. heretofore we had considerately portaged every one of these obstructions, except at princeton, where we went through under the "ellen hardy's" wing. a stalwart irishman, in his shirt-sleeves, and smoking a clay pipe with that air of dogged indifference peculiar to so many government officials, leaned over a capstan at the upper lock, and dreamily stared at the approaching canoe. the lock was full, the last boat having passed up a day or two before. the upper gates being open, we pushed in, and took up our station in the centre of the basin, to avoid the "suck" during the emptying process. the doctor took out of the locker a copy of his medical journal and i a novel, and we settled down as though we had come to stay. the irishman's face was at first a picture of dumb astonishment, and then he sullenly picked up his coat from the grass, and began to walk off in the direction of the town. "hi, my friend!" shouted the doctor, good-naturedly. "we are waiting to get locked through." the tender returned a step, his eyes opened wide, his brows knit, and in his wrath he stuttered, "ph-h-a-t! locked through in that theer s-s-k-i-ff? ye're cr-razy, mon!" "oh, not at all. we understand our rights, and wish you to lock us through. and, if you please, we're in something of a hurry." as i said this i consulted my watch, and after returning it to my pocket resumed a vacant gaze upon the outspread leaves of the novel. the tender--for we had guessed rightly; it was the tender--advanced to the edge of the basin, and looked with inexpressible scorn upon our liliputian craft. "now, look here, gints," he said, somewhat more conciliatory, "i've been here for twinty years, an' know the law; an' the law don't admit no skiffs, ye mind y'ur eye. an' the divil a bit of lockage will ye git here, an' mind that!" and then he walked away. we were very patient. the rim of the lock became lined with small boys and smaller girls, for this is saturday, and a school holiday; and there was great wonderment at the men in the canoe, who "were having a bloody old row with barney, the lock-tinder," as one boy vigorously expressed the situation to a bevy of new-comers. by and by barney returned to see if we were still there. we were, and were so abstracted that we did not heed his presence. "will, ye ain't gone yit, i see?" said barney. the doctor roused himself, and pulling out his watch, appeared to be greatly surprised. "i do declare," he ejaculated, "if we haven't been waiting here nearly half an hour! i say, my man, this sort of delay is inexcusable. it will read badly in a report to the engineering bureau. what is your number, sir?" and with a stern expression he produced his tablets, prepared to jot down the numeral. barney was clearly weakening. his return to see if the "bluff" had worked was an evidence of that. the doctor's severe official manner, and our quiet persistence appeared to convince barney that he had made a grave mistake. so he hurried off to the lower capstans, growling something about being "oft'n fooled with fish'n' parties." when we were through we left barney a cigar on the curbing, and gently admonished him never again to be so rude to canoeists, or some day he would get reported. as we pushed off he bade us an affectionate farewell, and said he had sent his "lad" ahead to see that we had no trouble at the four lower locks. we did not see the lad; but certain it is that the other tenders were prompt and courteous, and we felt that the cigars which we distributed along the kaukauna canal were not illy bestowed. progress was slow to-day, owing to the delays in locking. ordinarily, we make from thirty to forty miles,--on the rock, you remember, we averaged forty. but it was nearly sunset when we passed under the old wagon bridge at wrightstown, only seventeen miles below our starting-point of this morning. we paused for a minute or two, to talk with a peaceably disposed lad, who was the sole patron of the bridge and lay sprawled across the board foot-walk, with his head under the railing, fishing as contentedly as though he lay on a grassy bank, after the manner of the gentle izaak. when old mr. wright was around, wrightstown may have been quite a place. but it is now going the way of so many river towns. there is a small, rickety saw-mill in operation, to which farmers from the back country haul in pine logs, of which there are some hundreds neatly piled in an adjoining field. another saw-mill shell is hard by, the home of owls and bats,--a deserted skeleton, whose spirit, in the shape of machinery, has departed to ashland, a more modern paradise of the buzz-saw. the village, dressed in that tone of pearly gray with which kind nature decks those habitations left paintless by neglectful man,--is prettily situated on the high banks which uniformly hedge in the lower fox. on the highest knoll of all is a modest little frame church whose spire--white, after a fashion--is a prominent landmark to river travelers. there are the remains of once well-kept gardens, upon the upper terraces; of somewhat elaborate fences, now swaying to and fro and weak in the knees; of sidewalks which have become pitfalls; of impenetrable thickets of lilacs, hedging lonely spots that once were homes. on the village street, only a few idlers were seen, gathered in knots of two or three in front of the barber shop and the saloons; the smith at his forge was working late, shoeing a country team; and two angular dames, in rusty sun-bonnets, were gossiping over a barn-yard gate. that was all we saw of wrightstown, as we drifted northward in company with the reeling bubbles, down through the deepening shadow cast by the western bank. here and there, where the land chances to slope gently to the water's edge, are small piles of logs, drawn on farm sleds during the winter season from depleted pineries, all the way from three to ten miles back. when wanted at the saw-mills down the river, or just above, at wrightstown, they are loosely made up into small rafts and poled to market. along the stream there are but few pines left, and they generally crown some rocky ledge, not easily accessible. a few small clumps are preserved, however, relics of the forest's former state, to adorn private grounds or enhance the gloomy tone of little hillside cemeteries. there must have been an impressive grandeur about the scenery of the lower fox in the early day, before the woodman's axe leveled the great pines which then swept down in solid rank to the river beach, closely hedging in the dark and rapid flood. we lunched upon a stone terrace, above which swayed in the evening breeze the dense, solemn branches of a giant native, one of the last of his fated race. the channel curved below, and the range of vision was short, between the stately banks, heavily fringed as they are with aspen and scrub-oak. as we sat in the gathering gloom and gayly chatted over the simple adventures which are making up this week of ideal vacation life, there came up from the depths below the steady swish and pant of a river steamboat,--rare object upon our lonesome journey. as the bulky craft came slowly around the bend, the pant became a subdued roar, awakening a dull echo from the wooded slopes. a small knot of passengers lolled around the pilot-house, on which we were just able to discern the name "evalyn, of oshkosh," in burnished gilt; on the freight deck there were bales and boxes of merchandise, and heaps of lumber; two stokers were feeding cord-wood to the furnace flames, which lit the scene with lurid glare, after the fashion of theatric fires; the roustabouts were fastening night lanterns to the rails. the v-shaped wake of her wheelbarrow stern broke upon the shores like a tidal wave, and the canoe, luckily well fastened to the roots of a stranded tree, bobbed up and down as would a chip tossed on the billows. four miles below wrightstown is little kaukauna. there are three or four cottages here, well up on the pleasant western bank, overlooking a deserted saw-mill property; while just beyond, a government lock does duty whenever needed, and the rest of the now broadened stream is stemmed by a magnificent dam, from the foot of which arises a dense cloud of vapor, such is the force of the torrent which pours with a mighty sweep over the great chute. as we stole down upon the hamlet, the moon, a day or two past full, was just rising over the opposite hillocks; a tall pine standing out boldly from its lesser fellows, was weirdly silhouetted across her beaming face, and in the cottage windows lights gleamed a homely welcome. we were cordially received at the house of the patriarch of the settlement. we made our craft secure for the night, "toted" our baggage up the bank, and paused upon the broad porch of our new-found friend to contemplate a most charming moonlit view of river and forest and glade and cataract; the cloud of mist rising high above the roaring declivity seemed as an incense offering to the goddess of the night. sixth letter. the bay settlement. green bay, wis., june , . my dear w----: we had a quiet sunday at little kaukauna. being a delightful day, we went with our entertainers to the country church, a mile or two back across the fields, and whiled away the rest of the time in strolling through the woods and gossiping with the farmers about the crops and the government improvement,--fertile themes. it appears that this diminutive hamlet of four or five houses anticipates a "boom," and there is some feverish anxiety as to how much village lots ought to bring as a "starter" when the rush actually opens. a syndicate has purchased the long-abandoned water-power, and it is whispered that paper-mills are to be erected, with cottages for operatives, and all that sort of thing. then, the church and the depot will have to be brought into town; the proprietor of the cross-roads grocery, now out on the "country road," will be erecting a brick "block" by the river side; somebody will be starting a daily paper, printed from stereotype plates imported from oshkosh or chicago; and a summer resort hotel with a magnetic spring, will doubtless cap the climax of village greatness. i shall look with interest on reports from the little kaukauna boom. it was nine o'clock this morning before we dipped paddle and bore down to the lock gates. the good-natured tender "dropped" us through with much alacrity. the river gradually widens, and here and there the high rolling banks recede for some distance, and marshes and bayous, excellent hunting-grounds, border the stream. a half mile below the lock we noticed a roughly built hut, open at front, such as would quarter a pig in the shanty outskirts of a great city. it looked lonesome, on the edge of a wide bog, with no other sign of habitation, either human or animal, in the watery landscape. curiosity impelled us to stop. crossing a plank, which rested one end on a snag and the other on a stone in front of the three-sided structure, we peered in. a bundle of rags lay in one corner of the floor of loosely laid boards; in another was a heap of clamshells, the contents of which had doubtless been cooked over a little fire which still smouldered in a neighboring clump of reeds. the odors were noisome, and a foot rise of water would have swamped out the dweller in this strange abode. we at once took it for granted that this was either the home of an indian or a tramp. just as we were leaving, however, a frowsy, dirty, but apparently good-tempered fisherman came rowing up and claimed the cabin as his home. he said that he spent the greater part of the year in this filthy hole, hunting or fishing according to the season; in the winter, he boarded up the front, leaving a hole to crawl out of, and banked the hut about with reeds and muck. wrightstown was his market; and he "managed to scratch," he said, by being economical. i asked him how much it cost him in cash to exist in this state, which was but slightly removed from the condition of our ancestral cave-dwellers. he thought that with twenty-five dollars in cash, he could "manage to scratch finely" for an entire year, and have besides "a week off with the boys,"--in other words, one prolonged drinking bout,--at wrightstown. he complained, however, that he seldom received money, being mainly put off with barter. the poor fellow, evidently something of a simpleton, is probably the victim of sharp practice occasionally. as we paddled away from this singular character, the doctor said that he had a novel-writing friend, given to the sensational, to whom he would like to introduce the wild fisherman of little kaukauna; he thought there was material for a romance here, particularly if it could be proved, as was quite possible, that the hut man was the lost heir of a british dukedom. but the site of another and a stranger romance is but half a mile farther down. the river there suddenly broadens into a basin, fully half a mile in width. to the east, the banks are quite abrupt. the westward shore is a gentle, grass-grown slope, stretching up beyond a charming little bay formed by a spit of meadow. near the sandy beach of this bay a country highway passes, winding in and out and up and down, as it follows the river and the bases of the knolls. above this and commanding delightful glimpses of forest and stream and bayou and prairie, a goodly hillock is crowned, some seventy-five feet above the water's edge, with a dark, unpainted, time-worn, moss-grown house, part log and part frame, set in a deep tangle of lilacs and crabs. the quaint old structure is of the simple pioneer pattern,--a story and a half, with gables on the north and south ends of the main part; and a small transverse wing to the rear, with connecting rooms. the ancient picket gate creaks on its one rusty hinge. the front door has the appearance of being nailed up, and across its frame a dozen fat spiders, most successful of fly fishers, have stretched their gluey nets. the path, once leading thither, is now o'ergrown with grass and lilacs, while in the surrounding snarl of weeds and poplar suckers are seen the blossoming remnants of peonies, and a few old-fashioned garden shrubs. the ground is historic. the house is an ancient landmark. it was the old home of eleazar williams, in his day episcopal missionary and pretender to the throne of france. williams was the reputed son of a mixed-blood couple of the mohawk band of indians; in early life, he claimed to have been born in the vicinity of montreal, in . a bright youth, he was educated for the ministry of the protestant episcopal church and sent as a missionary in - to the oneida indians, then located in oneida county, new york. during the war of , he had been employed as a spy by the american authorities to trace the movements of british troops in canada. williams, from the first, became engaged in intrigues among the new york indians, and was the originator of the movement which resulted, in , in the purchase by the war department of a large strip of land from the menomonees and winnebagoes, along the lower fox river, and the removal hither of several of the new york bands, accompanied by the scheming priest. but the result was jealousy between the newcomers and the original tribes, with sixteen years of confusion and turmoil, during which congress was frequently engaged in settling the squabbles that arose. williams's original idea was said, by those who knew him best, to be the "total subjugation of the whole [green bay] country and the establishment of an indian government, of which he was to be sole dictator."[ ] but his purpose failed. he came to be recognized as an unscrupulous fellow, and the majority of the whites and indians on the lower fox, as well as his clerical brethren, regarded him with contempt. in , williams, baffled in every other field of notoriety which he had worked, suddenly posed before the american public as louis xvii., hereditary sovereign of france. upon the downfall of the bourbons in , you will remember that louis xvi. and his queen, marie antoinette, were beheaded, while their son, the dauphin louis, an imbecile child of eight, was cast into the temple tower by the revolutionists. it is officially recorded that after an imprisonment of two years the dauphin died in the tower and was buried. but the story was started and popularly believed, that the real dauphin had been abducted by the royalists and another child cunningly substituted to die there in the dauphin's place. the story went that the dauphin had been sent to america and all traces of him lost, thus giving any adventurer of the requisite age and sufficiently obscure birth, opportunity to seek such honor as might be gained in claiming identity with the escaped prisoner. williams was too young by eight years to be the dauphin; he was clearly of indian extraction,--a fair type of the half-breed, in color, form, and feature. but he succeeded in deceiving a number of good people, including several leading doctors in his church; while an episcopal clergyman named john h. hanson attempted, in two articles in "putnam's magazine," in , and afterwards in an elaborate book, "the lost prince," to prove conclusively to the world that williams was indeed the son of the executed monarch. while those who really knew williams treated his claims as fraudulent, and his dusky father and mother protested under oath that eleazar was their son, and every allegation of williams, in the premises, had been often exposed as false, there were still many who believed in him. the excitement attracted attention in france. one or two royalists came over to see williams, but left disappointed; and louis philippe sent him a present of some finely bound books, believing him to be the innocent victim of a delusion. williams died in , keeping up his absurd pretensions to the last. it was in this house near little kaukauna that williams lived for so many years, managing and preaching to his scattered flock of immigrant indians, and forever seeking some sort of especially profitable employment, such as accompanying tribal delegations to washington, or acting as special commissioner at government payments. in the earliest days, the house was situated on the spit of meadow i have previously spoken of; but when the dam at depere raised the water, the frame was carried to this higher position. williams's wife, an octoroon, whose portrait shows her to have been a thick-set, stolid sort of woman, died here, a year ago, and is buried hard by. the present occupants of the house are mary garritty, an indian woman of sixty-five years, and her half-breed daughter, josephine penney, who in turn has an infant child of two. mary was reared by the williamses, and told us many a curious story of life at the "agency," as she called it, during the time when "mr. williams and ma" were alive. josephine, who confided to me that she was thirty years old, was regularly adopted by mrs. williams, for whose memory both women seem to have a very strong respect. what little personal property was left by the old woman goes to her grandchildren, intelligent and well-educated oshkosh citizens, but josephine has the sandy farm of sixty-five acres. she took me into the attic to exhibit such relics of the alleged dauphin as had not been disposed of by the administrator of the estate. there were a hundred or two mice-eaten volumes, mainly theological and school text-books; several old volumes of sermons,--for eleazar is said to have considered it better taste in him to copy a discourse from an approved authority than to endeavor to compose one that would not satisfy him half as well; a boxful of manuscript odds and ends, chiefly letters, indian glossaries and copied sermons; two or three leather-bound trunks, a copper tea-kettle used by him upon his long boat journeys, and a pair of antiquated brass candlesticks. then we descended to the old orchard. mary pointed out the spot, a rod or two south of the dwelling, where williams had his library and mission-office in a log-house that has long since been removed for firewood. in this cabin, which had floor dimensions of fifteen by twenty feet, williams met his indian friends and transacted business with them. mary, in her querulous tone, said that in those days the place abounded with indians, night and day, and as they always expected to be fed, she had her hands full attending to their wants. "there wa'n't no peace at all, sir, so long as mr. williams were here; when he were gone there wa'n't so many of them, an' we got a rest, which i were mighty thankful for." garrulous mary, in her moccasins and blanket skirt, with a complexion like brown parchment and as wrinkled,--almost a full-blood herself,--has lived so long apart from her people that she appears to have forgotten her race, and inveighed right vigorously against the unthrifty and beggarly habits of the aborigines. "i hate them pesky indians," she cried in a burst of righteous indignation, and then turned to croon over josephine's baby, as veritable a "little indian boy" as i ever met with in a forest wigwam. "he's a fine feller, isn't he?" she cried, as she chucked her grandson under the chin; "some says as he looks like mr. williams, sir." the doctor, who is a judge of babies, declared, in a professional tone that did not admit of contradiction, that the infant was, indeed, a fine specimen of humanity. and thus we left the two women in a most contented frame of mind, and descended to the beach, bearing with us josephine's parting salute, shouted from the garden gate,--"call agin, whene'er ye pass this way!" depere is five miles below. the banks are bold as far as there; but beyond, they flatten out into gently sloping meadows, varied here and there by the re-approach of a high ridge on the eastern shore,--the western getting to be quite marshy by the time fort howard is reached. at depere are the first rapids of the fox, the fall being about twelve feet. from the earliest period recorded by the french explorers, there was a polyglot indian settlement upon the portage-trail, and in december, , the jesuit missionary allouez established st. francis xavier mission here, the locality being henceforth styled "rapide des peres." it was from this station that allouez, dablon, joliet, and marquette started upon their memorable canoe voyages up the fox, in search of benighted heathen and the mississippi river. for over a century rapide des peres was a prominent landmark in northwestern history. the depere of to-day is a solid-looking town, with an iron furnace, saw-mills, and other industries; and after a long period of stagnation is experiencing a healthy business revival. unable to find the tender at this the last lock on our course, we portaged after the manner of old-time canoeists, and set out upon the home stretch of six miles. green bay, upon the eastern bank and fort howard upon the western, were well in view; and, it being not past two o'clock in the afternoon of a cool and somewhat cloudy day, we allowed the current to be our chief propeller, only now and then using the paddles to keep our bark well in the main current. the many pretty residences of south green bay, including the ruins of navarino, astor, and shanty town, are situated well up on an attractive sloping ridge; but the land soon drops to an almost swampy level, upon which the greater portion of the business quarter is built. opposite, fort howard with her mills and coal-docks skirts a wide-spreading bog, much of the flat, sleepy old town being built on a foundation of saw-mill offal. historically, both sides of the river may be practically treated as the old "bay settlement" for two and a half centuries one of the most conspicuous outposts of american civilization. here came savage-trained nicolet, exploring agent of champlain, in , when plymouth colony was still in swaddling-clothes. it was the day when the china sea was supposed to be somewhere in the neighborhood of the great lakes. nicolet had heard that at green bay he would meet a strange people, who had come from beyond "a great water" to the west. he was therefore prepared to meet here a colony of chinamen or japanese, if indeed green bay were not the orient itself. his mistake was a natural one. the "strange people" were winnebago indians. a branch of the dakotahs, or sioux, a distinct race from the algonquins, they forced themselves across the mississippi river, up the wisconsin, and down the fox, to green bay, entering the algonquin territory like a wedge, and forever after maintaining their foothold upon this interlocked water highway. "the great water," supposed by nicolet to mean the china sea, was the mississippi river, beyond which barrier the dakotah race held full sway. as he approached, one of his huron guides was sent forward to herald his coming. landing near the mouth of the river, he attired himself in a gorgeous damask gown, decorated with gayly colored birds and flowers, expecting to meet mandarins who would be similarly dressed. a horde of four or five thousand naked savages greeted him. he advanced, discharging the pistols which he held in either hand, and women and children fled in terror from the manitou who carried with him lightning and thunder. the mouth of the fox was always a favorite rallying-point for the savages of this section of the northwest, and many a notable council has been held here between tribes of painted red men and jesuits, traders, explorers, and military officers. being the gateway of one of the two great routes to the mississippi, many notable exploring and military expeditions have rested here; and french, english, and americans in turn have maintained forts to protect the interests of territorial possession and the fur-trade. here it was that a white man first set foot on wisconsin soil; and here, also, in , the de langlades, first permanent settlers of the badger state, reared their log cabins and initiated a semblance of white man's civilization. green bay, now hoary with age, has had an eventful, though not stirring history. for a hundred years she was a distributing-point for the fur-trade. the descendants of the de langlades, the grignons and other colonists of nearly a century and a half standing, are still on the spot; and the gossip of the hour among the _voyageurs_ and old traders still left among us is of john jacob astor, ramsay crooks, robert stuart, major twiggs, and other characters of the early years of our century, whose names are well known to frontier history. the creole quarter of this ancient town, shiftless and improvident to-day as it always has been, lives in an atmosphere hazy with poetic glamour, reveling in the recollection of a once festive, half-savage life, when the _courier de bois_ and the _engagé_ were in the ascendency at this forest outpost, and the fur-trade the be-all and end-all of commercial enterprise. your _voyageur_, scratching a painful living for a hybrid brood from his meager potato patch, bemoans the day when yankee progressiveness dammed the fox for yankee saw-mills, into whose insatiable maws were swept the forests of his youth, and remembers nought but the sweets of his early calling among his boon companions, the denizens of the wilderness. in shanty town, astor, and navarino there yet remain many dwellings and trading warehouses of the olden time,--unpainted, gaunt, poverty-stricken, but with their hand-hewed skeletons of oak still intact beneath the rags of a century's decay. a hundred years is a period quite long enough in our land to warrant the brand of antiquity, although a mere nothing in the prolonged career of the old world. in the rapidly developing west, a hundred years and less mark the gap between a primeval wilderness and a complete civilization. time, like space, is, after all, but comparative. in these hundred years the northwest has developed from nothing to everything. it is as great a period, judging by results, as ten centuries in europe,--perhaps fifteen. america is said to have no history. on the contrary, it has the most romantic of histories; but it has lived faster and crowded more and greater deeds into the past hundred years than slow-going europe in the last ten hundred. the american centenarian of to-day is older by far than the fabled methuselah. green bay, classic in her shanty ruins, has been somewhat halting in her advance, for the creoles hamper progressiveness. but as the _voyageurs_ and their immediate progeny gradually pass away, the community creeps out from the shadow of the past and asserts itself. the ancient town appears to be taking on a new and healthy growth, in strange contrast to the severe and battered architecture of frontier times. socially, green bay is delightful. there are many old families, whose founders were engaged in superintending the fur-trade and transportation lines, or holding government office, civil or military, at the wilderness post. this element, well educated and reared in comfort, gives a tone of dignified, old-school hospitality to the best society,--it is the knickerbocker colony of the bay settlement. at four o'clock we pushed into a canal in front of the fort howard railway depot, and half an hour later had crossed the bridge and were registered at a green bay hotel. the doctor, called home to resume the humdrum of his hospital life, will leave for the south to-morrow noon. i shall remain here for a week, reposing in the shades of antiquity. footnote: [ ] wis. hist. colls., vol. ii. p. . the wisconsin river. the wisconsin river. chapter i. alone in the wilderness. our watches, for a wonder, coincided on monday afternoon, aug. , . this phenomenon is so rare that w---- made a note in her diary to the effect that for once in its long career my time-piece was right. it was five minutes past two. the place was the beach at portage, just below the old red wagon-bridge which here spans the gloomy wisconsin. a teamster had hauled us, our canoe, and our baggage from the depot to the verge of a sand-bank; and we had dragged our faithful craft down through a tangle of sand-burrs and tin cans to the water's edge, and packed the locker for its third and final voyage of the season. a german housewife, with red kerchief, cap, and tucked-up skirt, stood out in the water on the edge of a gravel-spit, engaged in her weekly wrestle with the family wash,--a picturesque, foreign-looking scene. on the summit of a sandy promontory to our left, two other german housewives leaned over a pig-yard fence and gazed intently down at these strange preparations. back of us were the wooded sand-drifts of portage, once a famous camping-ground of the winnebagoes; before us, the dark, treacherous river, with its shallows and its mysterious depths; beyond that, great stretches of sand-fields thick-strewn with willow forests and, three or four miles away, the forbidding range of the baraboo bluffs, veiled in the heavy mist which was rapidly closing upon the valley. we feared that we were booked for a stormy trip, as we pushed out into the bubble-strewn current and found that a cold east wind was blowing over the flats and rowing-jackets were essential. portage city, a town of twenty-five hundred inhabitants, occupies the southeastern bank for a mile down. like green bay and prairie du chien, it was an outgrowth of the necessities of the early fur-trade. upon the death of that trade it languished and for a generation or two was utterly stagnant. as a rural trading centre it has since grown into a state of fair prosperity, although the presence of many of the old-time buildings of the indian traders and transporters gives to much of the town a sadly decayed appearance. for two or three miles we had portage in view, down a straight course, until at last the thickening mist hid the time-worn houses from view, and we were fairly on our way down the historic wisconsin, in the wake of joliet and marquette, who first traversed this highway to the mississippi, two hundred and fourteen years ago. marquette, in the journal of his memorable voyage, says of the wisconsin, "it is very broad, with a sandy bottom, forming many shallows, which render navigation very difficult." the river has been frequently described in the journals of later voyagers, and government engineers have written long reports upon its condition, but they have not bettered marquette's comprehensive phrase. the general government has spent enormous sums in an endeavor to make the fox-wisconsin water highway practicable for the passage of large steam-vessels between the great lakes and the mississippi river. it was of great service, in its natural state, for the passage into the heart of the continent of that motley procession of priests, explorers, cavaliers, soldiers, trappers, and traders who paddled their canoes through here for nearly two hundred years, the pioneers of french, english, and american civilization in turn. it is still a tempting scheme, to tap the main artery of america, and allow modern vessels of burden to make the circuit between the lakes and the gulf. the fox river is reasonably tractable, although this season the stage of water above berlin has been hardly high enough to float a flat-boat. but the wisconsin remains, despite the hundreds of wing-dams which line her shores, a fickle jade upon whom no reliance whatever can be placed. the current and the sand-banks shift about at their sweet will over a broad valley, and the pilot of one season would scarcely recognize the stream another. navigation for crafts drawing over a foot of water is practically impossible in seasons of drought, and uncertain in all. a noted engineer has playfully said that the wisconsin can never be regulated, "until the bottom is lathed and plastered;" and another officially reported, over fifteen years ago, that nothing short of a continuous canal along the bank, from portage to prairie du chien, will suffice to meet the expectations of those who favor the government improvement of this impossible highway. in the neighborhood of portage, the wing-dams,--composed of mattresses of willow boughs, weighted with stone,--are in a reasonable degree of preservation and in places appear to be of some avail in contracting the channel. but elsewhere down the river, they are generally mere hindrances to canoeing. the current, as it caroms from shore to shore, pays but little heed to these obstructions and we often found it swiftest over the places where black lines of willow twigs bob and sway above the surface of the rushing water; while the channel staked out by the engineers was the site of a sand-field, studded with aspen-brush. it is a lonely run of an hour and a half down to the mouth of the baraboo river, through the mazes of the wing-dams, surrounded by desolate bottom lands of sand and wooded bog. the east wind had brought a smart shower by the time we had arrived off the mouth of this northern tributary and we hauled up at a low, forested bank just below the junction, where rubber coats were brought out and canvas spread over the stores. the rain soon settled into a mere drizzle, and w----, ever eager in her botanical researches, wandered about regardless of wet feet, investigating the flora of the locality. the yellow sneeze-weed and purple iron-weed predominate in great clumps upon the verge of the bank, and lend a cheerful tone to what would otherwise be a desolate landscape. the drizzle finally ceasing, we were again afloat, and after shooting by scores of wing-dams that had been "snowed under" by shifting sand, and floating over others that were in the heart of the present channel, we came to dekorra, some seven miles below portage. dekorra is a quaint little hamlet, with just five weather-worn houses and a blacksmith-shop in sight, nestled in a hollow at the base of a bluff on the southern bank. the river courses at its feet, and from the top of a naked cliff a ferry-wire stretches high above the stream and loses itself among the trees on the opposite bottoms. the east wind whistled a pretty note as it was split by the swaying thread, and the anvil by the smith's forge rang out in unison, clear as a well-toned bell. a crude cemetery, apparently containing far more graves than dekorra's present census would show inhabitants, flanks the faded-out settlement on the shoulder of an adjoining hill. the road to the tattered ferry-boat, rotting on the beach, gave but little evidence of recent use, for dekorra is a relic. the valley of the wisconsin is from three to five miles broad, flanked on either side, below the portage, by an undulating range of imposing bluffs, from one hundred and fifty to three hundred and fifty feet in height. they are heavily wooded, as a rule, although there is much variety,--pleasant grass-grown slopes; naked, water-washed escarpments, rising sheer above the stream; terraced hills, with eroded faces, ascending in a regular succession of benches to the cliff-like tops; steep uplands, either covered with a dense and regular growth of forest, or shattered by fire or tornado. the ravines and pocket-fields between the bluffs are often of exceeding beauty, especially when occupied by a modest little village,--or better, by some small settler, whose outlet to the country beyond the edge of his mountain basin may be seen threading the woodlands which tower above him, or zigzagging through a neighboring pass, worn deep by some impatient spring torrent in a hurry to reach the river level. between these ranges stretches a wide expanse of bottoms, either bog or sand plain, over all of which the river flows at high water, and through which the swift current twists and bounds like a serpent in agony, constantly cutting out new channels and filling up the old, obeying laws of its own, ever defying the calculations of pilots and engineers. as it thus sweeps along, wherever its fancy listeth, here to-day and there to-morrow, it forms innumerable islands which greatly add to the picturesqueness of the view. now and then there are two or three parallel channels, running along for miles before they join, perplexing the traveler with a labyrinth of water paths. these islands are often mere sandbars, sometimes as barren as sahara, again thick-grown with willows and seedling aspens; but for the most part they are well-wooded, their banks gay with the season's flowers, and luxuriant vines hanging in deep festoons from the trees which overhang the flood. at their heads, often high up among the branches of the elms, are great masses of driftwood, the remains of shattered lumber-rafts or saw-mill offal from the great northern pineries, evidencing the height of the spring flood which so often converts the wisconsin into an amazon. because of this spreading habit of the stream, the few villages along the way are planted on the higher land at the base of the bluffs, or on an occasional sandy pocket-plateau which the river, as in ages past it has worn its bed to lower levels, has left high and dry above present overflows. some of these towns, in their fear of floods, are situated two or three miles back from the water highway; others, where the channel chances to closely hug a line of bluffs, are directly abutting the river, which is crossed at such points by either a ferry or a toll-bridge. desolate as is the prospect from dekorra's front door, we found the limestone cliff there, a mine of attractiveness. the river has worn miniature caves and grottoes in its base; at the mouths of several of these there are little rocky beaches, whose overhanging walls are flecked with ferns, lichens, and graceful columbines. at six o'clock that evening, in the midst of a dispiriting scotch mist, we disembarked upon the northern bank, at the foot of a wooded bluff, and prepared to settle for the night. fortunately, we had advance knowledge of the sparseness of settlement along the river, and had come with a tent and a cooking outfit, prepared for camping in case of need. upon a rocky bench, fifty feet up from the water, we stretched a rope between two trees, to serve in lieu of a ridge-pole, and pitched our canvas domicile. it was a lonesome spot which we had chosen for our night's halt. owing to the configuration of the bluffs, it was unlikely that any person dwelt within a mile of us on our shore. across the valley, we looked over several miles of bottom woods, while far up on the opposite slopes could just be discerned the gables of two white farm-houses, peering out from a wilderness of trees stretching far and wide, till its limits were lost in the gathering fog. it was pitchy dark by the time we had completed our camping arrangements, and w---- announced that the coffee was boiling over. i fancy we two must have presented a rather forlorn appearance, as we crouched at our evening meal around the sputtering little fire, clad in heavy jackets and rubber coats, for the atmosphere was raw and clammy. the wood was wet, and the shifting gusts would persist in blowing the smoke in our eyes, whichever position we took. every falling bough, or rustle of a water-laden sapling, was suggestive of tramps or of inquisitive hogs or cattle, for we knew not what neighbors we had; many a time we paused, and peering out into the black night, listened intently for further developments. and then the strange noises from the river, unnoticed during daylight, were not conducive to mental ease, when we nervously associated them with roving fishermen, or perhaps tramps, attracted by our light from the opposite shore. sometimes we felt positive that we heard the muffled creak of oars, fast approaching; then would come loud splashes and gurgles, and ever and anon it would seem as if some one were slapping the water with a board. now near, now far away, approaching and receding by turns, these mysterious sounds continued through the night, occasionally relieved by moments of absolute silence. we afterward discovered that these were the customary refrains sung by the gay tide, as it washed over the wing-dams, swished around the sandbanks, and dashed against great snags and island heads. but we did not know this then, and a certain uneasy lonesomeness overcame us as strangers to the scene; and i must confess that, despite our philosophizing, there was but little sleep for us that first camp out. a neglect to procure straw to soften our rocky couches, and a woful insufficiency of bed-clothing for a phenomenally cold august night, added to our manifold discomforts. chapter ii. the last of the sacs. dawn came at five, and none too soon. but after thawing out over the breakfast fire and draining the coffee-pot dry, we were wondrously rejuvenated; and as we struck camp, were right merry between ourselves over the foolish nervousness of the night. there was still a raw northwest wind, but the clouds soon broke, and when, at half-past six, we again pushed out into the swift-flowing stream, it was evident that the day would be bright and comfortably cool. we had some splendid vistas of bluff-girt scenery this morning, especially near merrimac, where some of the elevations are the highest along the river. there are a score of houses at merrimac, which is the point where the chicago and northwestern railway crosses, over an immense iron bridge feet long, spanning two broad channels and the sand island which divides them. the village is on a rolling plateau some fifty feet above the water level, on the northern side. climbing up to the bridge-tender's house, that one-armed veteran of the spans, whose service here is as old as the bridge, told me that it was seldom indeed the river highway was used in these days. "the railroads kill this here water business," he said. i found the tender to be something of a philosopher. most bridge-tenders and fishermen, and others who pursue lonely occupations and have much spare time on their hands, are philosophers. that their speculations are sometimes cloudy does not detract from their local reputation of being deep thinkers. the merrimac tender was given to geology, i found, and some of his ideas concerning the origin of the bluffs and the glacial streaks, and all that sort of thing, would create marked attention in any scientific journal. he had some original notions, too, about the habits of the stream above which he had almost hourly walked, day and night, the seasons round, for sixteen long years. the ice invariably commenced to form on the bottom of the river, he stoutly claimed, and then rose to the surface,--the ingenious reason given for this remarkable phenomenon being that the underlying sand was colder than the water. these and other novel results of his observation, our philosophical friend good-humoredly communicated, together with scraps of local tradition regarding the black hawk war, and lurid tales of the old lumber-raft days. at last, however, his hour came for walking the spans, and we descended to our boat. as we shot into the main channel, far above us a red flag fluttered from the draw, and we knew it to be the parting salute of the grizzled sentinel. at the head of an island half a mile below, it is said there are the remains of an indian fort. we landed with some difficulty, for the current sweeps by its wooded shore with particular zest. our examination of the locality, however, revealed no other earth lines than might have been formed by a rushing flood. but as a reward for our endeavors, we found the lobelia cardinalis in wonderful profusion, mingled in striking contrast of color with the iron and sneeze weeds, and the common spurge. the prickly ash, with its little scarlet berry, was common upon this as upon other islands, and the elms were of remarkable size. we were struck, as we passed along where the river chanced to wash the feet of steepy slopes, with the peculiar ridging of the turf. the water having undermined these banks, the friable soil upon their shoulders had slid, regularly breaking the sod into long horizontal strips a foot or two wide, the white sand gleaming between the rows of rusty green. sometimes the shores were thus striped with zebra-like regularity for miles together, presenting a very singular and artificial appearance. prominent features of the morning's voyage, also, were deep bowlder-strewn and often heavily wooded ravines running down from the bluffs. although perfectly dry at this season, it can be seen that they are the beds of angry torrents in the spring, and many a poor farmer's field is deeply cut with such gulches, which rapidly grow in this light soil as the years go on. we stopped at one such farm, and walked up the great breach to very near the house, up to which we clambered, over rocks and through sand-burrs and thickets, being met at the gate by a noisy dog, that appeared to be suspicious of strangers who approached his master's castle by means of the covered way. the farmer's wife, as she supplied us with exquisite dairy products, said that the metes and bounds of their little domain were continually changing; four acres of their best meadow had been washed out within two years, their wood-lot was being gradually undermined, and the ravine was eating into their ploughed land with the persistence of a cancer. on the other hand, her sister's acres, down the river a mile or two, on the other bank, were growing in extent. however, she thought their "luck would change one of these seasons," and the river swish off upon another tangent. upon returning by the gully, we found that its sunny, sloping walls, where not wooded with willows and oak saplings, were resplendent with floral treasures, chief among them being the gerardia, golden-rod in several varieties, tall white asters, a blue lobelia, and vervain, while the seeds of the oswego tea, prairie clover, bed-straw, and wild roses were in all the glory of ripeness. there was a broad, pebbly beach at the base of the torrent's bed, thick-grown with yearling willows. a stranded pine-log, white with age and worn smooth by a generation of storms, lay firmly imbedded among the shingle. the temperature was still low enough to induce us to court the sunshine, and, leaning against this hoary castaway from the far north, we sat for a while and basked in the radiant smiles of sol. prairie du sac, thirty miles below portage, is historically noted as the site for several generations of the chief village of the sac indians. some of the earliest canoeists over this water-route, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, describe the aboriginal community in some detail. the dilapidated white village of to-day numbers but four hundred and fifty inhabitants,--about one-fourth of the population assigned to the old red-skin town. the "prairie" is an oak-opening plateau, more or less fertile, at the base of the northern range of bluffs, which here takes a sudden sweep inland for three or four miles. the sacs had deserted this basin plain by the close of the eighteenth century, and taken up their chief quarters in the neighborhood of rock island, near the mouth of rock river, in close proximity to their allies, the foxes, who now kept watch and ward over the west bank of the mississippi. by a strange fatality it chanced that in the last days of july, , the deluded sac leader, black hawk, flying from the wrath of the illinois and wisconsin militiamen, under henry and dodge, chose this seat of the ancient power of his tribe to be one of the scenes of that fearful tragedy which proved the death-blow to sac ambition. black hawk, after long hiding in the morasses of the rock above lake koshkonong, suddenly flew from cover, hoping to cross the wisconsin river at prairie du sac, and by plunging across the mountainous country over a trail known to the winnebagoes, who played fast and loose with him as with the whites, to get beyond the mississippi in quiet, as he had been originally ordered to do. his retreat was discovered when but a day old; and the militiamen hurried on through the jefferson swamps and the forests of the four lake country, harrying the fugitives in the rear. at the summit of the wisconsin heights, on the south bank, overlooking this old sac plain on the north, black hawk and his rear-guard stood firm, to allow the women and children and the majority of his band of two thousand to cross the intervening bottoms and the island-strewn river. the unfortunate leader sat upon a white horse on the summit of the peak now called by his name, and shouted directions to his handful of braves. the movements of the latter were well executed, and black hawk showed good generalship; but the militiamen were also well handled, and had superior supplies of ammunition, so when darkness fell the fated ravine and the wooded bottoms below were strewn with indian bodies, and victory was with the whites. during the night the surviving fugitives, now ragged, foot-sore, and starving, crossed the river by swimming. a party of fifty or so, chiefly non-combatants, made a raft, and floated down the wisconsin, to be slaughtered near its mouth by a detail of regulars and winnebagoes from prairie du chien; but the mass of the party flying westward in hot haste over the prairie of the sacs, headed for the mississippi. they lined their rugged path with the dead and dying victims of starvation and despair, and a sorry lot these people were when the bad axe was finally reached, and the united army of regulars and militiamen under atkinson, henry, and dodge, overtook them. the "battle" there was a slaughter of weaklings. but few escaped across the great river, and the bloodthirsty sioux despatched nearly all of those. black hawk was surrendered by the servile winnebagoes, and after being exhibited in the eastern cities, he was turned over to the besotted keokuk for safe-keeping. he died, this last of the sacs, poor, foolish old man, a few years later; and his bones, stolen for an iowa museum, were cremated twenty years after in a fire which destroyed that institution. a sad history is that of this once famous people. we glory over the stately progress of the white man's civilization, but if we venture to examine with care the paths of that progress, we find our imperial chariot to be as the car of juggernaut. the view from the house verandas which overhang the high bank at prairie du sac, is superb. eastward a half mile away, the grand, corrugated bluffs of black hawk and the sugar loaf tower to a height of over three hundred feet above the river level; while their lesser companions, heavily forested, continue the range, north and south, as far as the eye can reach. the river crosses the foreground with a majestic sweep, while for several miles to the west and southwest stretches the wooded plain, backed by a curved line of gloomy hills which complete the rim of the basin. a mile below, on the same plain, is sauk city, a shabby town of about a thousand inhabitants. a spur track of the chicago, milwaukee, and st. paul railway runs up here from mazomanie, crossing the river, which is nearly half a mile wide, on an iron bridge. a large and prosperous brewery appears to be the chief industry of the place. slaughter-houses abut upon the stream, in the very centre of the village. these and the squalid back-door yards which run down to the bank do not make up an attractive picture to the canoeist. river towns differ very much in this respect. some of them present a neat front to the water thoroughfare, with flower-gardens and well-kept yards and street-ends, while others regard the river as a sewer and the banks as a common dumping ground, giving the traveler by boat a view of filth, disorder, and general unsightliness which is highly repulsive. i have often found, on landing at some villages of this latter class, that the dwellings and business blocks which, riverward, are sad spectacles of foulness and unthrift, have quite pretentious fronts along the land highway which the townsfolk patronize. it is as if some fair dame, who prided herself on her manners and costume, had rags beneath her fine silks, and unwashed hands within her dainty gloves. this coming in at the back door of river towns reveals many a secret of sham. it was a fine run down to arena ferry, thirteen miles below sauk city. the skies had become leaden and the atmosphere gray, and the sparse, gnarled poplars on some of the storm-swept bluffs had a ghostly effect. here and there, fires had blasted the mountainous slopes, and a light aspen growth was hastening to garb with vivid green the blackened ruins. but the general impression was that of dark, gloomy forests of oak, linden, maple, and elms, on both upland and bottom; with now and then a noble pine cresting a shattered cliff. there were fitful gleams of sunshine, during which the temperature was as high as could be comfortably tolerated; but the northwest wind swept sharply down through the ravines, and whenever the heavens became overcast, jackets were at once essential. the islands became more frequent, as we progressed. many of them are singularly beautiful. the swirling current gradually undermines their bases, causing the trees to topple toward the flood, with many graceful effects of outline, particularly when viewed above the island head. and the colors, too, at this season, are charmingly variegated. the sapping of a tree's foundations brings early decay; and the maples, especially, are thus early in the season gay with the autumnal tints of gold and wine and purple, objects of striking beauty for miles away. under the arches of the toppling trees, and inside the lines of snags which mark the islet's former limits, the current goes swishing through, white with bubbles and dancing foam. crouching low, to escape the twigs, one can have enchanting rides beneath these bowers, and catch rare glimpses of the insulated flora on the swift-passing banks. the stately spikes of the cardinal lobelia fairly dazzle the eye with their gleaming color; and great masses of brilliant yellow sneeze-weed and the deep purple of the iron-weed present a symphony which would delight a disciple of whistler. thus are the islands ever being destroyed and new ones formed. those bottom lands, over there, where great forests are rooted, will have their turn yet, and the buffeted sand-bars of to-day given a restful chance to become bottoms. the game of shuttlecock and battledoor has been going on in this dark and awesome gorge since heaven knows when. man's attempt to control its movements seem puny indeed. at six o'clock that evening we had arrived at the st. paul railway bridge at helena. the tender and his wife are a hospitable couple, and we engaged quarters in their cosy home at the southern end of the bridge. mrs. p---- has a delightful flower-garden, which looks like an oasis in the wilderness of sand and bog thereabout. twenty-three years ago, when these worthy people first took charge of the bridge, the earth for this walled-in beauty spot was imported by rail from a more fertile valley than the wisconsin; and here the choicest of bulbs and plants are grown with rare floricultural skill, and the trainmen all along the division are resplendent in button-hole bouquets, the year round, products of the bridge-house bower at helena. w---- and mrs. p---- at once struck up an enthusiastic botanical friendship. bridge houses are generally most forlorn specimens of railway architecture, and have a barricaded look, as though tramps were altogether too frequent along the route, and occasionally made trouble for the watchers of the ties. this one, originally forbidding enough, has been transformed into a winsome vine-clad home, gay with ivies, madeira vines, and passion, moon, and trumpet flowers, covering from view the professional dull green affected by "the company's" boss painter. the made garden, to one side, was choking with a wealth of bedding plants and greenhouse rarities of every hue and shape of blossom and leaf. a dozen feet below the railroad level, spread wide morasses and sand patches, thick grown with swamp elms and willows. down the track, a half mile to the south, helena's fifty inhabitants are grouped in a dozen faded dwellings. three miles westward, across the river, is the pretty and flourishing village of spring green. it is needless to say that in the isolated home of these lovers of flowers, we had comfortable quarters. w---- said that it was very much like putting up at rudder grange. chapter iii. a panoramic view. the fog on the river was so thick, next morning, that objects four rods away were not visible. to navigate among the snags and shallows under such conditions was impossible. but w---- closely investigated the garden while waiting for the mist to rise, and mr. p---- entertained me with intelligent reminiscences of his long experience here. it had been four years, he said, since he last swung the draw for a river craft. that was a small steamboat attempting to make the passage, on what was considered a good stage of water, from portage to the mouth. she spent two weeks in passing from arena to lone rock, a distance of twenty-two miles, and was finally abandoned on a sand-bank for the season. he doubted whether he would have occasion again to swing the great span. as for lumber rafts, but three or four small ones had passed down this year, for the railroads were transporting the product of the great mills on the upper wisconsin, about as cheap as it could be driven down river and with far less risk of disaster. the days of river traffic were numbered, he declared, and the little towns that had so long been supported by the raftsmen, on their long and weary journey from the northern pineries to the hannibal and st. louis markets, were dying of starvation. i questioned our host as to his opinion of the value of the fox-wisconsin river improvement. he was cautious at first, and claimed that the money appropriated had "done a great deal of good to the poor people along the line." closer inquiry developed the fact that these poor people had been employed in building the wing dams, for which local contracts had been let. when his opinion of the value of these dams was sought, mr. p---- admitted that the general opinion along the river was, that they were "all nonsense," as he put it. contracts had been let to tom, dick, and harry, in the river villages, who had made a show of work, in the absence of inspectors, by sinking bundles of twigs and covering them with sand. stone that had been hauled to the banks, to weight the mattresses, had remained unused for so long that popular judgment awarded it to any man who was enterprising enough to cart it away; thus was many a barn foundation hereabouts built out of government material. sand-ballasted wing-dams built one season were washed out the next; and so government money has been recklessly frittered away. such sort of management is responsible for the loose morality of the public concerning anything the general government has in hand. a man may steal from government with impunity, who would be socially ostracized for cheating his neighbor. there exists a popular sentiment along this river, as upon its twin, the fox, that government is bound to squander about so much money every year in one way or another, and that the denizens of these two valleys are entitled to their share of the plunder. one honest captain on the fox said to me, "if it wa'n't for this here appropriation, wisconsin wouldn't get her proportion of the public money what each state is regularly entitled to; so i think it's necessary to keep this here scheme a-goin', for to get our dues; of course the thing ain't much good, so far as what is claimed for it goes, but it keeps money movin' in these valleys and makes times easier,--and that's what guvment's for." the honest skipper would have been shocked, probably, if i had called him a socialist, for a few minutes after he was declaiming right vigorously against herr most and the chicago anarchists. it was half-past nine before the warmth of the sun's rays had dissipated the vapor, and we ventured to set forth. it proved to be an enchanting day in every respect. a mile or so below the bridge we came to the charming site, on the southern bank, at the base of a splendid limestone bluff, of the village of old helena, now a nameless clump of battered dwellings. there is a ferry here and a wooden toll-bridge in process of erection. the naked cliff, rising sheer above the rapid current, was, early in this century, utilized as a shot tower. there are lead mines some fifteen miles south, that were worked nearly fifty years before wisconsin became even a territory; and hither the pigs were, as late as , laboriously drawn by wagons, to be precipitated down a rude stone shaft built against this cliff, and thus converted into shot. much of the lead used by the indians and white trappers of the region came from the helena tower, and its product was in great demand during the black hawk war in . the remains of the shaft are still to be seen, although much overgrown with vines and trees. old helena, in the earlier shot-tower days, was one of the "boom" towns of "the howling west." but the boom soon collapsed, and it was a deserted village even at the time of the black hawk disturbance. after the battle of wisconsin heights, opposite prairie du sac, the white army, now out of supplies, retired southwest to blue mound, the nearest lead diggings, for recuperation. spending a few days there, they marched northwest to helena. the logs and slabs which had been used in constructing the shanties here were converted into rafts, and upon them the wisconsin was crossed, the operation consuming two days. a few miles north, black hawk's trail, trending westward to the bad axe, was reached, and soon after that came the final struggle. we found many groups of pines, this morning, in the amphitheater between the bluffs, and under them the wintergreen berries in rich profusion. some of the little pocket farms in these depressions are delightful bits of rugged landscape. in the fields of corn, now neatly shocked, the golden pumpkins seemed as if in imminent danger of rolling down hill. there are curious effects in architecture, where the barns and other outbuildings far overtop the dwellings, and have to be reached by flights of steps or angling paths. yet here and there are pleasant, gently rolling fields, nearer the bank, and smooth, sugar-loaf mounds upon which cattle peacefully graze. the buckwheat patches are white with blossom. now and then can just be distinguished the forms of men and women husking maize upon some fertile upland bench. and so goes on the day. now, with pretty glimpses of rural life, often reminding one of rhineland views, without the castles; then, swishing off through the heart of the bottoms for miles, shut in except from distant views of the hill-tops, and as excluded from humanity, in these vistas of sand and morass, as though traversing a wilderness; anon, darting past deserted rocky slopes or through the dark shadow of beetling cliffs, and the gloomy forests which crown them. lone rock ferry is nearly fourteen miles below helena bridge. as we came in view, the boat was landing a doctor's gig at the foot of a bold, naked bluff, on the southern bank. the doctor and the ferryman gave civil answers to our queries about distances, and expressed great astonishment when answered, in turn, that we were bound for the mouth of the river. "mighty dull business," the doctor remarked, "traveling in that little cockle-shell; i should think you'd feel afraid, ma'am, on this big, lonesome river; my wife don't dare look at a boat, and i always feel skittish coming over on the ferry." i assured him that canoeing was far from being a dull business, and w---- good-humoredly added that she had as yet seen nothing to be afraid of. the doctor laughed and said something, as he clicked up his bony nag, about "tastes differing, anyhow." and, the ferryman trudging behind,--the smoke from his cabin chimney was rising above the tree-tops in a neighboring ravine,--the little cortege wound its way up the rough, angling roadway fashioned out of the face of the bluff, and soon vanished around a corner. lone rock village is a mile and a half inland to the south. just below, the cliff overhangs the stream, its base having been worn into by centuries of ceaseless washing. on a narrow beach beneath, a group of cows were chewing their cuds in an atmosphere of refreshing coolness. from the rocky roof above them hung ferns in many varieties,--maidenhair, the wood, the sensitive, and the bladder; while in clefts and grottos, or amid great heaps of rock debris, hard by, there were generous masses of king fern, lobelia cardinalis, iron and sneeze weed, golden-rod, daisies, closed gentian, and eupatorium, in startling contrasts of vivid color. it being high noon, we stopped and landed at this bit of fairy land, ate our dinner, and botanized. there was a tinge of triumphant scorn in w----'s voice, when, emerging from a spring-head grotto, bearing in one arm a brilliant bouquet of wild flowers and in the other a mass of fern fronds, she cried, "to think of his calling canoeing a dull business!" richland city, on the northern bank, five miles down, is a hamlet of fifteen or twenty houses, some of them quite neat in appearance. nestled in a grove of timber on a plain at the base of the bluffs, the village presents a quaint old-country appearance for a long distance up-stream. the st. paul railway, which skirts the northern bank after crossing the helena bridge, sends out a spur northward from richland city, to richland center, the chief town in richland county. two miles below richland city, we landed at the foot of an imposing bluff, which rises sharply for three hundred feet or more from the water's edge. it is practically treeless on the river side. we ascended it through a steep gorge washed by a spring torrent. strewn with bowlders and hung with bushes and an occasional thicket of elms and oaks, the path was rough but sure. from the heights above, the dark valley lay spread before us like a map. ten miles away, to our left, a splash of white in a great field of green marked the location of lone rock village; five miles to the right, a spire or two rising above the trees indicated where muscoda lay far back from the river reaches; while in front, two miles away, peaceful little avoca was sunning its gray roofs on a gently rising ground. between these settlements and the parallel ranges which hemmed in the panoramic view, lay a wide expanse of willow-grown sand-fields, forested morasses, and island meadows through which the many-channeled river cut its devious way. in the middle foreground, far below us, some cattle were being driven through a bushy marsh by boys and dogs. the cows looked the size of kittens to us at our great elevation, but such was the purity of the atmosphere that the shouts and yelps of the drivers rose with wonderful clearness, and the rustling of the brush was as if in an adjoining lot. the noise seemed so disproportioned to the size of the objects occasioning it, that this acoustic effect was at first rather startling. the whitewashed cabin of a squatter and his few log outbuildings occupy a little basin to one side of the bluff. his cattle were ranging over the hillsides, attended by a colly. the family were rather neatly dressed, but there did not appear to be over an acre of land level enough for cultivation, and that was entirely devoted to indian corn. it was something of a mystery how this man could earn a living in his cooped-up mountain home. but the honest-looking fellow seemed quite contented, sitting in the shade of his woodpile smoking a corncob pipe, surrounded by a half dozen children. he cheerfully responded to my few queries, as we stopped at his well on the return to our boat. the good wife, a buxom woman with pretty blue eyes set in a smiling face, was peeling a pan of potatoes on the porch, near by, while one foot rocked a rude cradle ingeniously formed out of a barrel head and a lemon box. she seemed mightily pleased as w---- stroked the face of the chubby infant within, and made inquiries as to the ages of the step-laddered brood; and the father, too, fairly beamed with satisfaction as he placed his hands on the golden curls of his two oldest misses and proudly exhibited their little tricks of precocity. there can be no poverty under such a roof. millionnaires might well envy the peaceful contentment of these hillside squatters. down to muscoda we followed the rocky and wood-crowned northern bank, along which the country highway is cut out. the swift current closely hugs it, and there was needed but slight exertion with the paddles to lead a sewing-machine agent, whom we found to be urging his horse into a vain attempt to distance the canoe. as he seemed to court a race, we had determined not to be outdone, and were not. orion, on the northern side, just above muscoda, is a deserted town. it must have been a pretentious place at one time. there are a dozen empty business buildings, now tenanted by bats and spiders. on one shop front, a rotting sign displays the legend, "world's exchange;" there is also a "globe hotel," and the remains of a bank or two. alders, lilacs, and gnarled apple-trees in many deserted clumps, tell where the houses once were; and the presence, among these ruins, of a family or two of squalid children only emphasizes the dreary loneliness. orion was once a "boom" town, they tell us,--an expressive epitaph. a thin, outcropping substratum of sandstone is noticeable in this section of the river. it underlies the sandy plains which abut the wisconsin in the muscoda region, and lines the bed of the stream; near the banks, where there is but a slight depth of water, rapids are sometimes noticeable, the rocky bottom being now and then scaled off into a stairlike form, for the fall is here much sharper than customary. because of an outlying shelf of this sandstone, bordered by rapids, but covered with only a few inches of dead water, we had some difficulty in landing at muscoda beach, on the southern shore. some stout poling and lifting were essential before reaching land. muscoda was originally situated on the bank, which rises gently from the water; but as the river trade fell off, the village drifted up nearer the bluff, a mile south over the plain, in order to avoid the spring floods. there is a toll-bridge here and a large brewery, with extensive cattle-sheds strung along the shore. a few scattering houses connect these establishments with the sleepy but neat little hamlet of some five hundred inhabitants. after a brisk walk up town, in the fading sunlight, which cast a dazzling glimmer on the whitened dunes and heightened the size of the dwarfed herbage, we returned to the canoe, and cast off to seek camping quarters for the night, down-stream. a mile below, on the opposite bank, a large straw-stack by the side of a small farmhouse attracted our attention. we stopped to investigate. there was a good growth of trees upon a gentle slope, a few rods from shore, and a beach well strewn with drift-wood. the farmer who greeted us was pleasant-spoken, and readily gave us permission to pitch our tent in the copse and partake freely of his straw. now more accustomed to the river's ways, we keenly enjoyed our supper, seated around our little camp-fire in the early dark. we had occasional glimpses of the lights in muscoda, through the swaying trees on the bottoms to the south; an owl, on a neighboring island, incessantly barked like a terrier; the whippoorwills were sounding their mournful notes from over the gliding river, and now and then a hoarse grunt or querulous squeal in the wood-lot behind us gave notice that we were quartered in a hog pasture. soon the moon came out and brilliantly lit the opens,--the glistening river, the stretches of white sand, the farmer's fields,--and intensified the sepulchral shadows of the lofty bluffs which overhang the scene. chapter iv. floating through fairyland. undisturbed by hogs or river tramps, we slept soundly until seven, the following morning. there was a heavy fog again, but by the time we had leisurely eaten our breakfast, struck camp, and had a pleasant chat with our farmer host and his "hired man," who had come down to the bank to make us a call, the mists had rolled away before the advances of the sun. at half past ten we were at port andrew, eight miles below camp on the north shore. the port, or what is left of it, lies stretched along a narrow bench of sand, based with rock, some forty feet above the water, with a high, naked bluff backing it to the north. there is barely room for the buildings, on either side of its one avenue paralleling the river; this street is the country road, which skirts the bank, connecting the village with the sparse settlements, east and west. in the old rafting days, the port was a stopping-place for the lumber pilots. there being neither rafts nor pilots, nowadays, there is no business for the port, except what few dollars may be picked up from the hunters who frequent this place each fall, searching for woodcock. but even the woodcocking industry has been overdone here, and two sportsmen whom we met on the beach declared that there were not enough birds remaining to pay for the trouble of getting here. for, indeed, port andrew is quite off the paths of modern civilization. there is practically no communication with the country over the bluffs, northward; and blue river, the nearest railway station, to which there is a tri-weekly mail, is four miles southward, over the bottoms, with an uncertain ferryage between. there are less than fifty human beings in port andrew now, but double that number of dogs, the latter mostly of the pointer breed, kept for the benefit of huntsmen. we climbed the bank and went over to the post-office and general store. it seems to be the only business establishment left alive in the hamlet; although there are a dozen deserted buildings which were stores in the long ago, but are now ghostly wrecks, open to wind and weather on every side, and, with sunken ridge-poles, waiting for the first good wind-storm to furnish an excuse for a general collapse. a sleepy, greasy-looking lad, whose originally white shirt-front was sadly stained with water-melon juice, had charge of the meager concern. he said that the farmers north of the bluffs traded in towns more accessible than this, and that south of the stream, blue river, being a railroad place, was "knockin' the spots off'n the port." ten years ago, he had heard his "pa" say the port was "a likely place," but it "ain't much shakes now." but there is a certain quaintness about these ruins of port andrew that is quite attractive. a deep ravine, cut through the shale-rock, comes winding down from a pass among the bluffs, severing the hamlet in twain. over it there is sprung a high-arched, rough stone bridge, with crenelled walls, quite as artistic in its way as may be found in pictures of ancient english brook-crossings. on the summit of a rising-ground beyond, stands the solitary, whitened skeleton of a once spacious inn, a broad double-decked veranda stretching across its river front, and hitching-posts and drinking-trough now almost lost to view in a jungle of docks and sand-burrs. the cracks in the rotten veranda floors are lined with grass; the once broad highway is now reduced to an unfrequented trail through the yielding sand, which is elsewhere hid under a flowery mantle made up of delicate, fringed blossoms of pinkish purple, called by the natives "pike's weed," and the rich yellow and pale gold of the familiar "butter and eggs." the peculiar effect of color, outline, and perspective, that hazy august day, was indeed charming. but we were called from our rapt contemplation of the picture, by the assemblage around us of half the population of port andrew, led by the young postmaster and accompanied by a drove of playful hounds. the impression had somehow got abroad that we had come to prospect for an iron mine, in the bed of the old ravine, and there was a general desire to see how the thing was done. the popular disappointment was evidently great, when we descended from our perch on the old bridge wall, and returned to the little vessel on the beach, which had meanwhile been closely overhauled by a knot of inquisitive urchins. a part of the crowd followed us down, plying innocent questions by the score, while on the summit of the bank above stood a watchful group of women and girls, some in huge sun-bonnets, others with aprons thrown over their heads. there was a general waving of hats and aprons from the shore, as we shot off into the current again, and our "good-by!" was answered by a cheery chorus. it is evident that port andrew does not have many exciting episodes in her aimless, far-away life. flocks of crows were seen to-day, winging their funereal flight from shore to shore, and uttering dismal croaks. the islands presented a more luxurious flora than we had yet seen; the marsh grass upon them was rank and tall, the overhanging trees sumptuously vine-clad, the autumn tints deeper and richer than before, the banks glowing with cardinal and yellow and purple; while on the sandy shores we saw loosestrife, white asters, the sensitive plant, golden-rod, and button-bush. blue herons drifted through the air on their wide-spread wings, heads curved back upon their shoulders, and legs hanging straight down, to settle at last upon barren sand-spits, and stand in silent contemplation of some pool of dead water where perhaps a stray fish might reward their watchfulness. solitary kingfishers kept their vigils on the numerous snags. now and then a turtle shuffled from his perch and went tumbling with a loud splash into his favorite watering-place. although yet too early for indian summer, the day became, by noon, very like those which are the delight of a protracted northwestern autumn. a golden haze threw a mystic veil over the landscape; distant shore lines were obliterated, sand and sky and water at times merged in an indistinct blur, and distances were deceptive. now and then the vistas of white sand-fields would apparently stretch on to infinity. again, the river would seem wholly girt with cliffs and we in the bottom of a huge mountain basin, from which egress was impossible; or the stream would for a time appear a boundless lake. the islands ahead were as if floating in space, and there were weird reflections of far-away objects in the waters near us. while these singular effects lasted we trimmed our bark to the swift-gliding current, and floated along through fairy-land, unwilling to break the charm by disturbing the mirrored surface of the flood. soon after the dinner hour we came in sight of the boscobel toll-bridge,--an ugly, clumsy structure, housed-in like a tunnel, and as dark as a pocket. i was never quite able to understand why some bridge-makers should cover their structures in this fashion, and others, in the same locality, leave them open to wind and weather. so far as my unexpert observation goes, covered bridges are no more durable than the open, and they are certainly less cheerful and comely. a chill always comes over me as i enter one of these damp and gloomy hollow-ways; and the thought of how well adapted they are to the purposes of the thug or the footpad is not a particularly pleasant one for the lonely traveler by night. a dead little river hamlet, now in abject ruins,--manhattan by name,--occupies the rugged bank at the north end of the long bridge; while southward, boscobel is out of sight, a mile and a half inland, across the bottoms. the bluff overtopping manhattan is a quarry of excellent hard sandstone, and a half dozen men were dressing blocks for shipment, on the rocky shore above us. they and their families constitute manhattan. eight miles down river, also on the north bank, is boydtown. there are two houses there, in a sandy glen at the base of a group of heavily wooded foot-hills. at one of the dwellings--a neat, slate-colored cottage--we found a cheery, black-eyed woman sitting on the porch with a brood of five happy children playing about her. as she hurried away to get the butter and milk which we had asked for, she apologized for being seen to enjoy this unwonted leisure, apparently not desirous that we should suppose her to be any other than the hard-working little body which her hands and driving manner proclaimed her to be. when she returned with our supplies she said that they had "got through thrashin'," the day before, and she was enjoying the luxury of a rest preparatory to an accumulated churning. i looked incredulously at the sandy waste in which this little home was planted, and the good woman explained that their farm lay farther back, on fair soil, although the present dry season had not been the best for crops. her brown-faced boy of ten and two little girls of about eight--the laughing faces and crow-black curls of the latter hid under immense flapping sun-bonnets--accompanied us to the bayou by which we had approached boydtown. they had a gay, unrestrained manner that was quite captivating, and we were glad to have them row alongside of us for a way down-stream in the unwieldy family punt, the lad handling the crude oars and the girls huddled together on the stern seat, covered by their great sun-bonnet flaps, as with a cape. they were "goin' grapein'," they said; and at an island where the vines hung dark with purple clusters, they piped "good-by, you uns!" in tittering unison. by this time, the weather had changed. the haze had lifted. the sky had quickly become overcast with leaden rainclouds, and an occasional big drop gave warning of an approaching storm. a few miles below boydtown, we stopped to replenish our canteen at the st. paul railway's fine iron bridge, the last crossing on that line between milwaukee and prairie du chien. on the southern end of the bridge is woodman; on the northern bank, the tender's house. as we were in the northern channel, it was impracticable to reach the village, separated from us by wide islands and long stretches of swamp and forest, except by walking the bridge and the mile or two of trestle-work approaches to the south. as for the bridge-house, there chanced to be no spare quarters for us there. so we voted to trust to fortune and push on, although the tender's wife, a pleasant, english-faced woman, with black, sparkling eyes and a hospitable smile, was much exercised in spirit, and thought we were running some hazard of a wetting. the skies lightened for a time, and then there came rolling up from over the range to the southwest great jagged rifts of black clouds, ugly "thunder heads," which seemed to presage a deluge. below them, veiling the tallest peaks, tossed and sped the light-footed couriers of the wind, and we saw the dark-green bosom of the upper forests heave with the emotions of the air, while the rushing stream below flowed on unruffled. the river is here united in one broad channel. at the first evidence of a blow, we hurried across to the windward bank. we were landing at the swampy, timber-strewn base of a precipitous cliff as the wind passed over the valley, and had just completed our preparations for shelter when the rain began to come in blinding sheets. the possibility of having to spend the night under the sepulchral arches of this forested morass was not pleasant to contemplate. the storm abated, however, within half an hour, and we were then able to distinguish a large white house apparently set back in an open field a half mile or more from the opposite shore. re-embarking, we headed that way, and found a wood-fringed stream several rods wide, pouring a vigorous flood into the wisconsin, from the north. our map showed it to be the kickapoo, an old-time logging river, and the house must be an outlying member of the small railroad village of wauzeka. a consultation was held on board, at the mouth of the kickapoo. on the wisconsin not a house was to be seen, as far as the eye could reach, and wide stretches of swamp and wooded bog appeared to line both its banks. the prospect of paddling up the mad little kickapoo for a mile to wauzeka was dispiriting, but we decided to do it; for night was coming on, our tent, even could we find a good camping ground in this marshy wilderness, was disposed to be leaky, and a steady drizzle continued to sound a muffled tattoo on our rubber coats. a voluble fisherman, caught out in the rain like ourselves, came swinging into the tributary, with his cranky punt, just as we were setting our paddles for a vigorous pull up-stream. we had his company, side by side, till we reached the st. paul railway trestle, and beached at the foot of a deserted stave mill, in whose innermost recesses we deposited our traps. guided by the village shoemaker's boy, who had been playing by the river side, we started up the track to find the hotel, nearly a half mile away. it is a quiet, comfortable, old-fashioned little inn, this hostelry at wauzeka. the landlord greeted his storm-bound guests with polite urbanity, and with none of that inquisitiveness so common in rural hosts. at supper, we met the village philosopher, a quaint, lone old man who has an opinion of his own upon most human subjects, and more than dares to voice it,--insists, in fact, on having it known of all men. a young commercial traveler, the only other patron of the establishment, sadly guyed our philosophical messmate by securing his verdict on a wide range of topics, from the latest league game to abstruse questions of theology. the philosopher bit, and the drummer was in high feather as he crinkled the corners of his mouth behind his huge moustache, and looked slyly around for encouragement that was not offered. wauzeka is, in one respect, like too many other country villages. three saloons disfigure the main street, and in front of them are little knots of noisy loafers, in the evening, filling up the rickety, variously graded sidewalk to the gutter, and necessitating the running of a loathsome gauntlet to those who may wish to pass that way. the boy who can grow up in such an atmosphere, unpolluted, must be of rare material, or his parents exceptionally judicious. there are few large cities where one can see the liquor traffic carried on with such disgusting boldness as in hamlets like this, where screenless, open-doored saloons of a vile character jostle trading shops and dwellings, and monopolize the footway, making of the business street a place which women may abhor at any hour, and must necessarily avoid after sunset. with a local-option law, that but awaits a majority vote to be operative in such communities, it is a strange commentary on the quality of our nineteenth-century civilization that the dissolute few should still, as of old, be able to persistently hold the whip-hand over the virtuous but timid many. elsewhere in wauzeka, there are many pretty grass-grown lanes; some substantial cottages; a prosperous creamery, employing the service of the especial pride of the village, a six-inch spouting well, driven for three hundred feet to the underlying stratum of lime-rock; a saw-mill or two, which are worked spasmodically, according to the log-driving stage in the kickapoo, and some pleasant, accommodating people, who appear to be quite contented with their lot in life. chapter v. the discovery of the mississippi. there was fog on the river in the morning. across the broad expanse of field and ledge which separates wauzeka from the wisconsin, we could see the great white mass of vapor, fifty feet thick, resting on the broad channel like a dense coverlid of down. soon after seven o'clock, the cloud lifted by degrees, and then broke into ragged segments, which settled sluggishly for a while on the tops of the southern line of bluffs and screened their dark amphitheaters from view, till at last dissipated into thin air. we were off at eight o'clock, fifteen or twenty men coming down to the railway-bridge to watch the operation. one of them helped us materially with our bundles, while the rest sat in a row along the trestle, dangling their feet through the spaces between the stringers, and gazing at us as though we were a circus company on the move. a drizzle set in, just as we pushed from the bank, and we descended the kickapoo under much the same conditions of atmosphere as those we had experienced in pulling against its swirling tide the evening before. but by nine o'clock the storm was over, and we had, for a time, a calm, quiet journey, a gray light which harmonized well with the wildly picturesque scenery, and a fresh west breeze which helped us on our way. we were now but twenty miles from the mouth. the parallel ranges of bluff come nearer together, until they are not much over a mile apart, and the stream, now broader, swifter, and deeper, is less encumbered with islands. upon the peaty banks are the tall white spikes of the curious turtlehead, occasional masses of balsam-apple vines, the gleaming lobelia cardinalis, yellow honeysuckles just going out of blossom, and acres of the golden sneeze-weed, which deserves a better name. at wright's ferry, ten miles below, there are domiciled two german families, and on the shore is a saw-mill which is operated in the spring, to work up the logs which farmers bring down from the gloomy mountains which back the scene. bridgeport, four miles farther,--still on the northern side,--is chiefly a clump of little red railway buildings set up on a high bench carved from the face of the bluff, their fronts resting on the road-bed and their rears on high scaffolding. a few big bowlders rolling down from the cliffs would topple bridgeport over into the river. there is a covered country toll-bridge here, and the industrial interest of the liliputian community is quarrying. it is the last hamlet on the river. a mist again formed, casting a blue tinge over the peaks and giving them a far distant aspect; dark clouds now and then lowered and rolled through the upper ravines, reflecting their inky hue upon the surface of the deep, gliding river. the bluffs, which had for many miles closely abutted the stream, at last gradually swept away to the north and south, to become part of the great wall which forms the eastern bulwark of the upper mississippi. at their base spreads a broad, flat plain, fringed with boggy woods and sandy meadows, the delta of the wisconsin, which, below the lowertown bridge of the burlington and northern railway, is cut up into flood-washed willow islands, flanked by a wide stretch of shifting sand-bars black with tangled roots and stranded logs, the debris of many a spring-time freshet. it was about half-past twelve o'clock when we came to the junction of the wisconsin and the mississippi. upon a willow-grown sand-reef edging the swamp, which extends northward for five miles to the quaint, ancient little city of prairie du chien, a large barge lies stranded. a lone fisherman sat upon its bulwark rail, which overhangs the rushing waters as they here commingle. we landed with something akin to reverence, for this must have been about the place where joliet and marquette, two hundred and fourteen years ago, gazed with rapture upon the mighty mississippi, which they had at last discovered, after so many thousands of miles of arduous journeying through a savage-haunted wilderness. and indeed it is an imposing sight. to the west, two miles away, rise the wooded peaks on the iowa side of the great river. northward there are pretty glimpses of cliffs and rocky beaches through openings in the heavy growth which covers the islands of the upper stream. southward is a long vista of curving hills and glinting water shut in by the converging ranges. eastward stretches the green delta of the wisconsin, flanked by those imposing bluffs, between whose bases for two centuries has flowed a curious throng of humanity, savage and civilized, on errands sacred and profane, representing many clashing nationalities. the rain descended in a gentle shower as i was lighting a fire on which to cook our last canoeing meal of the season; and w---- held an umbrella over the already damp kindling in order to give it a chance. we no doubt made a comical picture as we crouched together beneath this shelter, jointly trying to fan the sparks into a flame, for the fisherman, who had been heretofore speechless, and apparently rapt in his occupation, burst out into a hearty laugh. when we turned to look at him he hid his face under his upturned coat-collar, and giggled to himself like a schoolgirl. he was a jolly dog, this fisherman, and after we had presented him with a cup of coffee and what solids we could spare from our now meager store, he warmed into a very communicative mood, and gave us much detailed, though rather highly colored, information about the locality, especially as to its natural features. the rain had ceased by the time dinner was over; so we bade farewell to the happy fisherman and the presiding deities of the wisconsin, and pulled up the giant mississippi to prairie du chien, stopping on our way to visit an out-of-the-way bayou, botanically famous, where flourishes the rare nelumbium luteum--america's nearest approach to the lotus of the nile. and thus was accomplished the season's stint of six hundred miles of canoeing upon the historic waterways of illinois and wisconsin. index. algoma, , . allouez, father claude, , , . american fur co., . anderson, maj. robert, u.s.a., . antoinette, marie, queen of france, . appleton, wis., , , , - , . arena ferry, wis., , , . arndt, judge john p., . astor, john jacob, , . atkinson, gen. henry, u. s. a., , . avoca, wis., . bad axe, battle of, , . baraboo river, . barth, laurent, . beloit, wis., , , . berlin, wis., , , , , - , , . black hawk war, , , , , , - , . black hawk mountain, . black river falls, wis., . black wolf point, lake winnebago, . blue mound, wis., . blue river village, wis., . boscobel, wis., , , . "bourbon, the american." _see_ williams, eleazar. boydtown, wis., , , . bridgeport, wis., , , . buffalo lake, , - , , . butte des morts, lake grand, , - , . butte des morts, lake petit, , , . butte des morts village, - , . butterfield, consul w., _cited_, . byron, ill., , , - . canoeing, pleasures of, , . canoeists, suggestions to, - . canoes, styles of, , . carbon cliff, ill., , . catfish river, wis., , - . champche keriwinke, winnebago princess, , . champlain, governor of quebec, , . cherry river, . chicago, burlington, and northern ry., . chicago, burlington, and quincy ry., - . chicago, milwaukee, and st. paul ry., , , , , , - , , , . chicago and northwestern ry., , - . cleveland, ill., . coloma, ill., , - . como, ill. , - . crooks, ramsay, . dablon, father claude, . dakotah indians. _see_ sioux and winnebagoes. davis, jefferson, , , . dekorra, wis., - . de korra, early fur trader, , . depere, wis., , , , . dixon, ill., , , , , , , - , - . dodge, maj. henry, , . doty's island, wis., - . dunkirk, wis., , . erie, ill., , - . eureka, wis., . first lake, , - . fond du lac, wis., . fort crawford (prairie du chien, wis.), . fort howard, wis., , - . fort winnebago (portage, wis.), - . four lake country, wis., , , . four legs, winnebago chief, , . fox indians (_see_, also, sacs), , - . fox river, wis., , - , , - , , , . fulton, wis., - . fur trade in wisconsin, , - , , , , . ganymede springs, ill., , . garlic island, lake winnebago, - . garritty, mary, - . grand detour, ill., - . great bend of rock river, - . green bay, wis., , , , , , , , - , . grignon, augustin, , , , . hanson, john h., _cited_, , . harney, gen. william s., u. s. a., . helena village, wis., , - . helena, wis., old, , . henry, maj. james d., , . hoo-tschope. _see_ four legs. illinois indians, , . iowatuk, winnebago princess, , . janesville, wis., , , - . jesuit missionaries, , , , , , , , , . joliet, sieur de, , , , . kackalin, grand. _see_ kaukauna. kaukauna, wis., , , - . kellogg's trail, , . keokuk, fox chief, . kickapoo indians, . kickapoo river, wis., , , , , . kinzie, mrs. john h., _cited_, , . koshkonong, lake, , , , . lakeside, third lake, . langlade, charles de, , . latham station, ill., , . lawrence university, , . lead mines at galena, . lecuyer, jean b., , . lignery, sieur marchand de, . lincoln, abraham, . little kaukauna, wis., , - , , . lone rock, wis., , , - . louis xvi., king of france, - . louis xvii., dauphin of france, - . louvigny, sieur de, . lyndon, ill., , . madison, wis., , . manhattan, wis., . marin, sieur de, , . marquette, father james, , , , , . marquette village, wis., , , - . mascoutin indians, - . mazomanie, wis., . menasha, wis., , , , , , . menomonee indians, , , , , . merrimac, wis., , - . miami indians, . milan, ill., . milwaukee and northern ry., , . mississippi river, , , , , , , - , , - , - . mohawk indians, . montello, wis., , , , - , . muscoda, wis., , , , - . neenah, wis., , , , , , - , . new york indians. _see_ oneidas. nicolet, jean, , , , , . northern insane hospital, wis., - . omro, wis., , , , , . oneida indians, - . oregon, ill., , , - . orion, wis., . oshkosh, menomonee chief, , . oshkosh, wis., , , , , - , , . ott's farm, madison, wis., . owen, ill. _see_ latham station. packwaukee, wis., , , - , . paine bros., . paquette, pierre, . penney, josephine, - . philippe, louis, king of france, . pope's springs, wis., . porlier, james, , . porlier, louis b., , . portage, wis., , , , , - , , , , , , - . port andrew, wis., , - . pottawattomie indians, , , . poygan lake, , , . prairie du chien, wis., , , , , , , - . prairie du sac, wis., , , - , . princeton, wis., , , - , . prophetstown, ill., , , - . puckawa lake, , , - . red bird, winnebago chief, . richland center, wis., . richland city, wis., . rockford, ill., , , . rock island, ill., , , , , . rock river, - , - , , . rockton, ill., . roscoe, ill., , . sac indians, , , , , - . sacramento, wis., , . sauk city, wis., , , . sawyer, philetus, . second lake, , - , . shaubena, pottawattomie chief, . sioux indians, , , . smith's island, wis., - . spring green, wis., . stebbinsville, wis., , . sterling, ill., , , , . stillman's creek, , , , . stillman's defeat, , . stoughton, wis., , , , , - , . stuart, robert, . taylor, zachary, . third lake, , . turvill's bay, third lake, , . twiggs, maj. david, . walking cloud, a winnebago, . wauzeka, wis., , - . white cloud, indian prophet, , . white river lock, , . williams, eleazar, - . williams, mrs. eleazar, , . winnebago indians, , , , , , , , - , , , , , , . winnebago lake, , , , - , . winnebago prophet. _see_ white cloud. winnebago rapids, - . winneconne, , , - . wisconsin central ry., , . wisconsin heights, battle of, , . wisconsin river, , - , , - , , , - . wisconsin river dells, . wolf river, - , . woodman, wis., . wright's ferry, wis., , . wrightstown, wis., , , . yahara river. _see_ catfish. stories of the badger state by reuben gold thwaites new york cincinnati chicago american book company copyright, , by reuben gold thwaites. sto. badger sta. w. p. i. preface the student of nature lives in a broader and more interesting world than does he who has not learned the story of the birds, the streams, the fields, the woods, and the hedgerows. so, too, the student of local history finds his present interest in town, village, city, or state, growing with his knowledge of its past. in recognition of this fact, these true stories, selected from wisconsin's history, have been written as a means to the cultivation of civic patriotism among the youth of our commonwealth. it is not the purpose of the book to present a continuous account of the development of the state; for this, the author begs to refer to his larger work, "the story of wisconsin" (in the story of the states series). rather is it desired to give selections from the interesting and often stirring incidents with which our history is so richly stored, in the hope that the reader may acquire a taste for delving more deeply into the annals of the badger state. wisconsin had belonged, in turn, to spain, france, and england, before she became a portion of the united states. her recorded history begins far back in the time of french ownership, in . the century and a third of the french régime was a picturesque period, upon which the memory delights to dwell; with its many phases, several of the following chapters are concerned. the english régime was brief, but not without interest. in the long stretch of years which followed, before wisconsin became an american state, many incidents happened which possess for us the flavor of romance. the formative period between and was replete with striking events. in the war of secession, wisconsin took a gallant and notable part. since that great struggle, the state has made giant strides in industry, commerce, education, and culture; but the present epoch of growth has not thus far yielded much material for picturesque treatment, perhaps because we are still too near to the events to see them in proper perspective. an attempt has been made to present chapters representative of all these periods, but naturally the earlier times have seemed best adapted to the purpose in hand. r. g. t. contents the mound builders life and manners of the indians the discovery of wisconsin radisson and groseilliers the story of joliet and marquette the jesuit missionaries some notable visitors to early wisconsin a quarter of a century of warfare the commerce of the forest in the old french days the coming of the english wisconsin in the revolutionary war the rule of judge réaume the british capture prairie du chien the story of the wisconsin lead mines the winnebago war the black hawk war the story of chequamegon bay wisconsin territory formed wisconsin becomes a state the boundaries of wisconsin life in pioneer days the development of roads the phalanx at ceresco a mormon king the wisconsin bourbon slave catching in wisconsin the story of a famous chief a fight for the governorship our foreign-born citizens swept by fire badgers in war time index stories of the badger state the mound builders in the basin of the mississippi, particularly in that portion lying east of the great river, there are numerous mounds which were reared by human beings, apparently in very early times, before american history begins. they are found most frequently upon the banks of lakes and rivers, and often upon the summits of high bluffs overlooking the country. no attempt has ever been made to count them, for they could be numbered by tens of thousands; in the small county of trempealeau, wisconsin, for instance, over two thousand have been found by surveyors. most of the mounds have been worn down, by hundreds of years of exposure to rain and frost, till they are but two or three feet in height; a few, however, still retain so majestic an altitude as eighty or more feet. the conical mounds are called by ethnologists _tumuli_. other earthworks are long lines, or squares, or circles, and are probably fortifications; some of the best examples of these are still to be traced at aztalan, wisconsin. in many places, especially in ohio and wisconsin, they have been so shaped as to resemble buffaloes, serpents, lizards, squirrels, or birds; and some apparently were designed to represent clubs, bows, or spears--all these peculiarly shaped mounds being styled _effigies_. the mounds attracted the attention of some of the earliest white travelers in the mississippi basin, and much was written about them in books published in europe over a hundred years ago. books are still being written about the mounds, but most of them are based on old and worn-out theories; those published by the ethnological bureau, at washington, are the latest and best. many thousands of these earthworks have been opened, some by scientists, many more by curiosity seekers, and their contents have, for the most part, found their way into public museums. many of the mounds have been measured with great accuracy, and pictures and descriptions of them are common. until a few years ago, the opinion was quite general, even among historians and ethnologists, that the mounds were built by a race of people who lived in the mississippi basin before the coming of the indians, and that the mound builders were far superior to the indians in civilization. many thought that this prehistoric race had been driven southward by the indians, and that the aztecs whom the spaniards found in mexico and central america four hundred years ago were its descendants. we have in wisconsin a reminder of the aztec theory, in the name aztalan, early applied to a notable group of earthworks in jefferson county. there were many reasons why, in an earlier and more imperfect stage of our knowledge concerning indians, this theory seemed plausible. it was argued that to build all these mounds required a vast deal of steady labor, which could have been performed only by a dense population, working under some strong central authority, perhaps in a condition of slavery; that these people must have long resided in the same spot; and must have been supported by regular crops of grain, vegetables, and fruit. it was shown that indians, as we found them, lived in small bands, and did not abide long in one place; that their system of government was a loose democracy; that they were disinclined to persistent labor, and that they were hunters, not farmers. further, it was contended that the mounds indicated a religious belief on the part of their builders, which was not the religion of the red men. the result of these arguments, to which was added a good deal of romantic fancy, was to rear in the public mind a highly colored conception of a mythical race of mound builders, rivaling in civilization the ancient egyptians. but we are living in an age of scientific investigation; scientific methods are being applied to every branch of study; history has had to be rewritten for us in the new light which is being thrown upon the path of human development. this is not the place to set forth in detail the steps by which knowledge has been slowly but surely reached, regarding the history of the once mysterious mounds. the work of research is not yet ended, for the study of ethnology is only in its infancy; nevertheless, it is now well established that the indians built the mounds, and we may feel reasonably certain for what purpose they used them. indian population was never dense in north america. the best judges now agree that the entire native population consisted of not over two hundred thousand at the time when the pilgrim fathers came to plymouth. of these, wisconsin probably had but nine thousand, which, curiously enough, is about its present indian population. but, before the first whites came, many of the american tribes were not such roamers as they afterward became; they were inclined to gather into villages, and to raise large crops of indian corn, melons, and pumpkins, the surplus of which they dried and stored for winter. we shall read, in another chapter, how the white fur trader came to induce the indian agriculturist to turn hunter, and thereby to become the wandering savage whom we know to-day. concerning the argument that the modern indian is too lazy to build mounds, it is sufficient to say that he was, when a planter, of necessity a better worker than when he had become a hunter; also, that many of the statements we read about indian laziness are the result of popular misunderstanding of the state of indian society. it is now well known that the indian was quite capable of building excellent fortifications; that the most complicated forms of mounds were not beyond his capacity; and that, in general, he was in a more advanced stage of mental development than was generally believed by old writers. modern experiments, also, prove that the actual work of building a mound, with the aid of baskets to carry the earth, which was the method that they are known to have employed, was not so great as has been supposed. it has been recently discovered, from documents of that period, that certain indians were actually building mounds in our southern states as late as the revolutionary war. in the north, the practice of mound building had gone or was going out of fashion about a hundred and twenty-five years before, that is, in the days when the french first came to wisconsin. it is thought that some of our wisconsin mounds may be a thousand years old; while others are certainly not much over two hundred years of age, for skeletons have been found in some of them wearing silver ornaments which were made in paris, and which bear dates as late as . it is easy to imagine the uses to which the wisconsin mounds were put by their indian builders. we can the more readily reason this out, because we know, from books of travel published at the time, just what use the southern indians were making of their mounds, in the period of the revolutionary war. the small tumuli were for the most part burial places for men of importance, and were merely heaps of earth piled above the corpse, which was generally placed in a sitting posture; he was surrounded with earthen pots containing food, which was to last him until his arrival at the happy hunting ground, and with weapons of stone and copper, to enable him there to kill game or defend himself against his enemies. the larger tumuli were, no doubt, the commanding sites of council houses or of the huts of chiefs. each indian belonged, through his relationship with his mother's people, to some clan; and each clan had its symbol or _totem_, such as the bear, the turtle, the buffalo, etc. the indians claimed that the clan had descended from some giant animal whose figure, or effigy, was thus honored. many white people place their family symbol, or crest, or coat of arms on their letter paper, or on the panels of their carriage doors, or upon their silverware; so indians are fond of displaying their respective totems on their utensils, weapons, canoes, or wigwams. in the mound building days, they reared totems of earth, and probably dwelt on top of them. as in each village there were several clans, so there were numerous earth totems, many of them of great size. this, no doubt, is the origin of the so-called effigies. add to these the mystic circles of the medicine men, the fantastic serpents, and the fortifications necessary to defend the village from the approach of an enemy up some sloping bank or sharp-sided ravine, and you have the story of the mounds. an indian village in those old mound building days must have presented a picturesque appearance. just why the indians stopped building mounds is not settled; but it is noticeable that they were being built in various parts of the country about up to the time of the white man's entry. it may be that the coming of the stranger, with his different manners, hastened the decay of the custom; or perhaps it had practically ceased about that time, as many another wave of custom has swept over primitive peoples and left only traces behind. the mounds, with which the forefathers of our indians dotted our land, remain to us as curious and instructive monuments of savage life in prehistoric times. no castles or grand cathedrals have come down to us, in america, to illustrate the story of the early ages of our own race; but we have in the mounds mute, impressive relics of a still earlier life upon this soil, by our primitive predecessors. it should be considered our duty, as well as our pleasure, to preserve them intact for the enlightenment of coming generations of our people. life and manners of the indians at the time when white men first came to wisconsin, there were found here several widely differing tribes of indians, and these were often at war with one another. the winnebagoes, an offshoot of the sioux, occupied the valleys of the wisconsin and the fox, and the shores of green bay as far down as sturgeon bay. if the theory of the ethnologists be correct, that most of the wisconsin mounds were built by the winnebagoes, then at times they must have dwelt in nearly every corner of the state. this is not unlikely, for the centers of indian population were continually shifting, the red men being driven hither and thither by encroachments of enemies, religious fancies, or the never-ending search for food. we know only that when the whites found them, they were holding these two valleys, between green bay and prairie du chien. a broad-faced people, with flat noses, they were in personal appearance, habits, and morals the least attractive of all our tribes. their cousins, the wild and dashing sioux, were still using northwest wisconsin as a hunting ground, and had permanent villages in minnesota, and elsewhere to the west of the mississippi river. the chippewas (or ojibways, as the name was originally spelled), the best of our wisconsin aborigines, were scattered through the northern part of the state, as far south as the black river, and perhaps as far eastward as the wolf. east of them were the menominees (wild-rice eaters), a comparatively gentle folk, who gathered great stores of grain from the broad fields of wild rice which flourishes in the bayous and marshy river bottoms of northeast wisconsin. the pottawattomies, with feminine cast of countenance, occupied the islands at the mouth of green bay, and the west shore of lake michigan, down into illinois. the united sacs (or saukies) and foxes (outagamies) were also prominent tribes. when first seen by whites, the sacs and foxes were weak in numbers, but, being a bold and warlike people, they soon grew to importance, and crowded the winnebagoes out of the fox valley and, later, out of much of the wisconsin valley, becoming in their pride and strength bitter enemies of the french. scattered elsewhere through the state were some smaller tribes: the mascoutins (fire nation), chiefly in the neighborhood of the present city of berlin; the short-limbed kickapoos, in the kickapoo valley; and, at various periods, bands of hurons, illinois, miamis, and ottawas, none of whom ever played a large part here. the stockbridges, oneidas, brothertowns, and munsees, now numerous in northeast wisconsin, are remnants of new york and massachusetts tribes who were removed hither by the general government in and later. no two tribes spoke the same language. in wisconsin, the indians were divided by language into two great families, the algonkin and the dakotan. the sioux and the winnebagoes belonged, by their similar speech, to the dakotan family, just as the english and the germans belong to the great teutonic family. all the others were of the algonkin group, just as the french, the spanish, and the italians belong to what is called the latin family, and speak languages which have the same origin. the indian history of wisconsin is the more interesting, because here these two great families or groups met, clashed, and intermingled. despite the diversity of tongues, they were, with certain variations, much the same sort of people; and for our present purpose, the description of one tribe will serve for the description of all. in size, indians resemble europeans; some are shorter than the average white man, some taller; the kickapoos were among the short men. indians have black eyes and coarse, black hair. most of them wear no beard, but as the hairs appear, pluck them out with tweezers of wood or clam shell. they have thin lips, high cheek bones, broad faces, and prominent noses; the winnebago's nose is large, but much flattened. in primitive times, the summer dress of the men was generally a short apron made of the well-tanned skin of a wild animal, the women being clothed in skins from neck to knees; in winter, both sexes wrapped themselves in large fur robes. in some parts of north america, especially in the south, where the indians were more highly developed than those in the north, they wove rude cloths of thread spun from buffalo hair, or of sinews of animals killed in the chase. it is not supposed that there was much of this cloth made in wisconsin. what specimens have been discovered in our mounds, no doubt were obtained from the native peddlers, who wandered far and wide carrying the peculiar products of several tribes, and exchanging them for other goods, or for wampum, the universal currency of the forest. moccasins of deerskin were in general use; also leggins, with the fur turned inward or outward according to the weather. much of their clothing was stained red or black or yellow; some was painted in stripes or lace work, and some was decorated with pictures of birds and beasts, or with scenes which they wished to commemorate. one old writer quaintly speaks of "a great skinne painted and drawen and pourtrayed that nothing lacked but life." their dress was also ornamented by beads and porcupine quills; in the fringed borders of their leggins and robes were often fastened deer's hoofs, the spurs of wild turkeys, or the claws of bears or eagles, which rattled as their wearers walked along. around their necks were strings of beads, and their ears and noses were pierced for the hanging of various other ornaments. in their hair, the men tied eagle feathers, one for each scalp taken. the "war bonnet," worn by the leading warriors, was a headdress of skins and feathers, which trailed down the back and often to the ground, and was highly picturesque. add to this, the general habit of tattooing, or, on ceremonial occasions, of fantastically, often hideously, painting the face and neck and breast in blue, black, and red, and one can well imagine that an indian village, on a fête day, or at other times of popular excitement, presented a striking scene. each tribe could be readily distinguished from others, by the shape and material of its wigwams or huts. the chippewas, for instance, lived in hemispherical huts, covered with great sheets of birch-bark; the winnebago hut was more of the shape of a sugar loaf, and was covered with mats of woven rushes; the sioux dwelt in cone-shaped huts (_tepees_), covered with skins, the poles sticking out at the top. these huts were foully kept, and all manner of camp diseases prevailed; pulmonary complaints and rheumatism were particularly frequent, and both men and women looked old and haggard before they reached middle age. in the old mound building days, the huts of the village leaders or chiefs were no doubt built upon the tops of the mounds, while the common people lived on the lower level. on top of a very large, conspicuous mound was the council house, where important events were discussed and action taken. every warrior, that is, every man who had taken the scalp of an enemy, was permitted to be heard around the council fire; but the talking was for the most part done by the privileged class of headmen, old men, wise men, and orators. the political organization of the indians was weak. the villages were little democracies, where one warrior considered himself as good as another, except for the respect naturally due to the chiefs or headmen of the several clans, or to those who had the reputation of being wise and able. the sachem, or peace-chief, whose office was hereditary through connection with his mother's family, had but slight authority unless his natural gifts commanded respect. when war broke out, the fighting men ranged themselves as volunteers under some popular leader, perhaps a regular chief, or perhaps only a common warrior. when the village council decided to do something, any man might, if he wished, refuse to obey. it was seldom that an entire tribe, consisting of several villages, united in an important undertaking; still more unusual was it, for several tribes to unite. this was, of course, a weak organization, such as a pure democracy is sure to be. the indian lacked self-control and steadfastness of purpose, and the tribes and villages were jealous of one another; so they yielded before the whites, who better understood the value of union in the face of a common foe. the formidable conspiracies of king philip, pontiac, and some others were the work of indians of quite unusual ability in the art of organization; but the leaders could find few others equal to their skill, and the uprisings were shortlived. the indian's strength as a fighter lay in his capacity for stratagem, in his ability to thread the tangled forest as silently and easily as the plain, and in his habit of making rapid, unexpected sallies for robbery and murder, and then gliding back into the dark and almost impenetrable forest. he soon tired of long military operations, and, when hard pressed, was apt to yield to the white men who were often inferior in numbers, but who soon learned to adopt the aborigine's skulking method of warfare. lord of his own wigwam, and tyrannical over his squaws, the indian was kind and hospitable to unsuspected strangers, yet merciless to a captive. nevertheless, prisoners were often snatched from the stake, or the hands of a cruel captor, to be adopted into the family of the rescuer, taking the place of some one killed by the enemy. the red man was improvident, given to gambling, and, despite the popular notion, was a jolly, easy-going sort of fellow around his own fire; but in council, and when among strangers, he was dignified and reserved, too proud to exhibit curiosity or emotion. he indulged in a style of oratory which abounded in metaphors drawn from his observations of nature. he was superstitious, peopling the elements with good and bad spirits; and was much influenced by the medicine men, who were half physicians and half priests, and who commanded long fastings, penances, and sacrifices, with curious dances, and various forms of necromancy. the indian made tools and implements which were well adapted to his purpose; the boats which he fashioned of skins, of birch-bark, or of hollowed trunks of trees have not been surpassed. he was remarkably quick in learning the use of firearms, and soon equaled the best white hunters as a marksman. a rude sense of honor was developed within him; he had a nice perception of what was proper to do; he knew how to bend his own will to the force of custom, thus he overcame to some extent the natural evils of democracy. he understood the arts of politeness when he chose to practice them. he could plan admirably, and often displayed much skill in strategy; his reasoning was good. he knew the value of form and color, as we can see in his rock-carvings, in his rude paintings, in the decorations on his leather, and in his often graceful body-markings. in short, he was less of a savage than we are in the habit of thinking him; he was barbarous from choice, because he had a wild, untrammeled nature and saw little in civilized ideas to attract him. this is why, with his polite manner, he always seemed to be yielding to missionary efforts, yet perhaps never became thoroughly converted to christianity. when first discovered by white men, wisconsin indians were using rude pottery of their own make. their arrowheads and spearheads, axes, knives, and other tools and weapons were of copper obtained from lake superior mines, or of stone suitable for the purpose. they smoked tobacco in pipes wrought in curious shapes from a soft kind of stone found in minnesota, and ornaments and charms were also frequently made from this so-called "pipestone." game they killed with arrows or sling-shots, and in war used these, as well as stone spears and hatchets and stone-weighted clubs. the bulk of their food they obtained by hunting, fishing, and cultivating the soil, although at times they were forced to resort to the usually plentiful supply of fruits, nuts, and edible roots. indian corn was the principal crop. beans were sown in the same hills, while sometimes between the rows were planted several varieties of pumpkins, water-melons, and sunflowers. tobacco and sweet potatoes were grown by some tribes, but not in wisconsin. in our state, wild rice (or oats) furnished a good substitute for corn, and was similarly cooked. the whites wrought a serious change in the life and manners of the indians. they introduced firearms among the savages, and induced them to become hunters, and to wander far and wide for fur bearing animals, the pelts of which were exchanged for european cloths, glass beads, iron kettles, hatchets, spears, and guns and powder. thus the indian soon lost the old arts of making their own clothing from skins, kettles from clay, weapons from stone and copper, and wampum (beads used both for ornament and money) from clam shells. it did not take them long to discover that their labor was more productive when they hunted, and purchased what they wanted from the white traders, than when they made their own rude implements and utensils and raised crops. but the result was bad, for thereby they ceased to be self-sustaining; their very existence became dependent on the fur traders, who introduced among them many vices, not least of which was a love for the intoxicating liquors in which the traders dealt. the indian, at best, was never a lovable creature. he was dirty, improvident, brutal; he was, as compared with a european, mentally and morally but an undeveloped man. he is to-day, as we find him upon the reservations, pretty much the same as when found by the french over two and a half centuries ago, except that to his original vices he has added some of the worst vices of the white man. the story of the indian is practically the story of the fur trade, and that is the story of wisconsin before it became a territory. the discovery of wisconsin in the year , the daring french explorer, samuel de champlain, founded a settlement on the steep cliff of quebec, and thus laid the foundations for the great colony of new france. this colony, in the course of a century and a half, grew to embrace all of what we now call canada and the entire basin of the mississippi river. [illustration: champlain] new france grew slowly. this was largely owing to the opposition of the fierce iroquois indians of new york, whom champlain had greatly angered. another reason was the changing moods of the algonkin indians of canada and the middle west; and still another, the enormous difficulties of travel through the vast forests and along streams frequently strewn with rapids. champlain was made governor of new france, and varied his duties by taking long and painful journeys into the wilderness, thus setting the fashion of extensive exploration. there were two very good reasons for encouraging explorers: in the first place, new france was then largely controlled by a company of merchants, called the hundred associates, who desired to push the fur trade far and wide among the savage tribes; in the second place, the french catholic missionary priests were anxious to reach the indians, to convert them to the christian religion. thus it came about that, during the twenty-five years when the energetic and enterprising champlain was governor, there was little talked or thought about in new france but exploration, the fur trade, and the missions to the indians. in order to carry out his schemes for opening new fields to the traders and missionaries, champlain found it necessary to train young men to this work. only those were selected for the task who had a fair education, and were healthy, strong, well-formed, and brave. they were, often when mere boys, sent far up into the country to live among the indian tribes, to be adopted by them, to learn their habits and languages, and to harden themselves to the rough life and rude diet of the dusky dwellers in the forest. it took several years of this practice, with patient suffering, for a youth to become an expert who could be trusted to undergo any hardship or daring task that might be asked of him. it was one of these forest-bred interpreters who became the first white discoverer of wisconsin. in those early days of new france, most of its people were from the west and northwest provinces of france. the crews of the ships which engaged in the trade to new france were nearly all from the ports of rouen, honfleur, fécamp, cherbourg, havre, dieppe, and caen; in these north-coast cities lived the greater part of the hundred associates, and from their vicinity came nearly all of the jesuit missionaries and the young men who were trained as interpreters. jean nicolet was born in or near cherbourg, and was the son of a mail carrier. he was about twenty years of age when, in , he arrived in quebec; "and forasmuch as," says an old jesuit writer of that time, "his nature and excellent memory inspired good hopes of him, he was sent to winter with the island algonkins, in order to learn their language. he tarried with them two years, alone of the french, and always joined the barbarians in their excursions and journeys, undergoing such fatigues as none but eyewitnesses can conceive; he often passed seven or eight days without food, and once, full seven weeks with no other nourishment than a little bark from the trees." these "island algonkins" lived on allumettes island in the ottawa river, nearly three hundred miles from quebec; their language was the principal one then used by the indians in the country on the north bank of the st. lawrence and in the great valley of the ottawa. although the life was so hard that few white men could endure it, nicolet, like most of the other interpreters, learned to enjoy it; and, passing from one tribe to another, in his search for new languages and experiences, he remained among his forest friends for eight or nine years. he had been with the algonkins for three or four years when he went, at the head of four hundred of them, into the iroquois country, and made a treaty of peace with this savage foe, whom the algonkins always greatly feared. it is related that thence he went to dwell with the nipissing indians, living about lake nipissing, "where he passed for one of that nation, taking part in the very frequent councils of those tribes, having his own separate cabin and household, and fishing and trading for himself." possibly nicolet might have been recalled from the woods before this, but, between and , canada was in the hands of the british; and he remained among the indians, inspiring them to hostility against the strangers. in , when the country was released to france, champlain and his fellow-officers returned to quebec, and nicolet was summoned thither, and was employed as clerk and interpreter by the hundred associates. champlain was eager to resume his explorations. he had once been up the great ottawa river, and thence had crossed over to lake huron, and had become keenly interested in what were then termed the "upper waters." of lakes ontario and erie he knew nothing, for the dreaded iroquois had prevented the french from going that way; and lakes superior and michigan were, as yet, undiscovered by whites. vague rumors of these unknown regions had been brought to quebec by bands of strange savages who had found their way down to the french settlements in search of european goods in exchange for furs. among the many queer stories brought by these fierce, painted barbarians was one which told of a certain "tribe of the sea" dwelling far away on the western banks of the "upper waters," a people who had come out of the west, no man knew whence. in those early days, europeans still clung to the notion which columbus had always held, that america was but an eastern projection of asia. this is the reason that our savages were called indians, for the discoverers of america thought they had merely reached an outlying portion of india; they had no idea that this was a great and new continent. governor champlain, and after him governor frontenac, and the great explorer la salle, all supposed that they could reach india and china, already known to travelers to the east, by persistently going westward. when, therefore, champlain heard of these strange men of the sea, he at once declared they must be the long-sought chinese. he engaged nicolet, in whom he had great confidence, to go out and find them, wherever they were, make a treaty of peace with them, and secure their trade. upon the first day of july, , nicolet left quebec, a passenger in the second of two fleets of canoes containing indians from the ottawa valley, who had come down to the white settlements to trade. among his fellow passengers were three adventurous jesuit missionaries, who were on their way to the country of the huron tribe, east of lake huron. leaving the priests at allumettes island, he continued up the ottawa, then crossed over to lake nipissing, visited old friends among the indians there, and descended french creek, which flows from lake nipissing into georgian bay, a northeastern arm of lake huron. on the shores of the great lake, he engaged seven hurons to paddle his long birch-bark canoe and guide him to the mysterious "tribe of the sea." slowly they felt their way along the northern shores of lake huron, where the pine forests sweep majestically down to the water's edge, or crown the bold cliffs, while southward the green waters of the inland sea stretch away to the horizon. storms too severe for their frail craft frequently detained them on the shore, and daily they sought food in the forest. the savage crew, tiring of exertion, and overcome by superstitious fears, would fain have abandoned the voyage; but the strong, energetic master bore down all opposition. at last they reached the outlet of lake superior, the forest-girt strait of st. mary, and paddled up as far as the falls, the sault ste. marie, as it came to be called by the jesuit missionaries. here there was a large village of algonkins, where the explorer tarried, refreshing his crew and gathering information concerning the "tribe of the sea." the explorers do not appear to have visited lake superior; but, bolder than before, they set forth to the southwest, and passing gayly through the island-dotted straits of mackinac, now one of the greatest of the world's highways, were soon upon the broad waters of lake michigan, of which nicolet was probably the first white discoverer. clinging still to the northern shore, camping in the dense woods at night or when threatened by storm, nicolet rounded far-stretching point detour and landed upon the shores of bay de noquet, a northern arm of green bay. another algonkin tribe dwelt here, with whom the persistent explorer smoked the pipe of peace, and they gave him further news of the people he sought. next he stopped at the mouth of the menominee river, now the northeast boundary between wisconsin and michigan, where the menominee tribe lived. another council was held, more tobacco was smoked, and one of nicolet's huron companions was sent forward to notify the winnebagoes at the mouth of the fox river that the great white chief was approaching; for the uncouth winnebagoes were the far-famed "tribe of the sea" whom nicolet had traveled so far to find. the manner of their obtaining this name, which had so misled champlain, is curious. the word was originally "ouinepeg," or "ouinepego," and both winnipeg and winnebago are derived from it. now "ouinepeg" was an algonkin term meaning "men of (or from) the fetid (or bad-smelling) water." possibly the tribe, far back in their history, once dwelt by a strong-smelling sulphur spring. the french, in their eagerness to find china, fancied that the fetid water must necessarily be salt water, hence the western ocean or "china sea;" that is why they called the winnebagoes the "tribe of the sea," and jumped at the conclusion that they were chinese. by this time, nicolet had his doubts about meeting chinese at green bay. as, however, he had brought with him "a grand robe of china damask, all strewn with flowers, and birds of many colors," such as chinese mandarins are supposed to wear, he put it on; and when he landed on the shore of fox river, where is now the city of green bay, strode forward into the group of waiting, skin-clad savages, discharging the pistols which he held in either hand. women and children fled in terror to the wigwams; and the warriors fell down and worshiped this manitou (or spirit) who carried with him thunder and lightning. "the news of his coming," says the old jesuit chronicler, "quickly spread to the places round about, and there assembled four or five thousand men. each of the chief men made a feast for him, and at one of these banquets they served at least six-score beavers." there was a great deal of oratory at these feasts, with the exchange of belts of wampum, and the smoking of pipes of peace, and no end of assurances on the part of the red men that they were glad to become the friends of new france and to keep the peace with the great french father at paris. leaving his new friends at green bay, the explorer ascended the fox river as far as the mascoutins, who had a village upon a prairie ridge, near where berlin now lies. he made a similar treaty with this people, and learned of the wisconsin river which flows into the mississippi, but did not go to seek it. he then walked overland to the tribe of the illinois, probably returning to quebec, in , by way of lake michigan. nicolet had proceeded over nearly two thousand five hundred miles of lake, river, forest, and prairie; had been subjected to a thousand dangers from man and beast, as well as from fierce rapids and stormtossed waters; had made treaties with several heretofore unknown tribes, and had widely extended the boundaries of new france. for various reasons, it was nearly thirty years before another visit was made by white men to wisconsin. nicolet himself soon settled down at the new town of three rivers, on the shores of the st. lawrence, between quebec and montreal, as the agent and interpreter there of the great fur trade company. he was a very useful man both to the company and to the missionaries; for he had great influence over the indians, who loved him sincerely, and he always exercised this influence for the good of the colony and of religion. he was drowned in the month of october, , while on his way to release a poor savage prisoner who was being maltreated by indians in the neighborhood. radisson and groseilliers in the preceding chapter, the story was told how, in the year , only fourteen years after the pilgrims landed on plymouth rock, jean nicolet was sent by governor champlain, of quebec, all the way out to wisconsin, to make friends with our indians, and to induce them to trade at the french villages on the lower st. lawrence river. whether any of them did, as a result of this visit, go down to see the palefaces at three rivers or quebec, and carry furs to exchange for european beads, hatchets, guns, and iron kettles, we do not know; there is no record of their having done so, neither are we aware that any white man soon followed nicolet to wisconsin. fur traders were in the habit of wandering far into the woods, and meeting strange tribes of indians; sometimes they would not return to quebec until after years of absence, and then would bring with them many canoe-loads of skins. the fur trade was under the control of the company of the hundred associates. the laws of new france declared that there could be no traffic with the indians, except what this great company approved; for they had bought from the king of france the right to do all the trading and make all the profits, and new france really existed only to make money for these rich associates. the fur trade laws provided severe punishments for those violating them; nevertheless, although the population was small, and everybody knew everybody else in the whole country, there were many brave, daring men who traveled through the deep forests, traded with the indians on their own account, and paid no license fees to the associates. these men, whom an oppressive monopoly could not keep down, were the most venturesome explorers in all this vast region; they were known as _coureurs des bois_, or "wood rangers." la salle, duluth, perrot, and many other early western explorers, were, at times in their career, _coureurs des bois_. now, as a _coureur de bois_ was an outlaw, because he wandered and traded without a license, naturally he was not in the habit of telling where he had been or what he had seen; then again, though brave men, few of these outlaws were educated, hence they seldom wrote journals of their travels. for these reasons, we are often obliged to depend on chance references to them, in the writings of others, and to patch up our evidence as to their movements, out of many stray fragments of information. so far as we at present know, there were no white men in wisconsin during the twenty years following the coming of nicolet. it is uncertain when the next white men came upon our soil, but there is good reason to believe that it was in the autumn of . these men were pierre-esprit radisson and médard chouart des groseilliers. like so many others in new france, they were from the northern part of old france, and came to canada while yet lads, groseilliers in , and radisson ten years later. in , groseilliers married a sister of radisson, and after that the two men became inseparable companions in their long and romantic wanderings. they experienced a number of thrilling adventures with indians, both as traders to the forest camps of savages friendly to new france, and as prisoners in the hands of the french-hating iroquois of new york. nevertheless they had grown accustomed to the hard, perilous life of the wilderness, and were thoroughly in love with it. it was, as near as we can ascertain, early in the month of august, , when these two adventurers started out "to discover the great lakes that they heard the wild men speak of." they followed, most of the way, in the footsteps of nicolet, up the ottawa river, and by the way of lake nipissing and french river to georgian bay of lake huron. this had now become a familiar route to the fur traders and jesuit missionaries; but of the country west of the eastern shore of lake huron scarcely anything was yet known, except what vague and often fanciful reports of it were brought by the savages. like nicolet, our two adventurous explorers traveled by canoes, with indians to do the paddling. passing between the manitoulin islands, in the northern waters of lake huron, they visited and traded with the huron indians there, thence proceeded through the straits of mackinac, and across to the peninsula of door county, which separates green bay from lake michigan. here they spent the winter with the pottawattomies; they held great feasts with them, at which dogs and beavers, boiled in kettles into a sort of thick soup, were the greatest delicacies; they smoked pipes of peace with them, at wordy councils which often lasted through several days; they hunted and fished with them, in a spirit of good fellowship; and, in general, they shared the fortunes of their forest friends, whether feasting or starving, after the manner of all these early french explorers and fur traders. in the curious journal afterward written in wretched but picturesque english by radisson, he says, "we weare every where much made of; neither wanted victualls, for all the different nations that we mett conducted us & furnished us with all necessaries." springtime ( ) came at last, and the two traders proceeded merrily up the fox river, still in the wake of nicolet, past the sites of the present cities of green bay, de pere, kaukauna, appleton, neenah, and menasha. they frequently had to carry their boats around the rapids and waterfalls, but after passing doty's island they had a smooth highway. paddling through lake winnebago, and past the site of oshkosh, then an indian village, they pushed on through the winding reaches of the upper fox, and at last came to a broad prairie near berlin, whereon was stationed the village of the mascoutins, or fire nation. the mascoutins treated the strangers, as they had nicolet, with great kindness. with this village as headquarters, the explorers made frequent expeditions, "anxious to be knowne with the remotest people." radisson quaintly writes, "we ware moneths in our voyage without doeing any thing but goe from river to river." the explorers cared little, we may suppose, except to have a good time and make a profitable trade with the indians; they do not appear to have made any map. writing about their travels, many years after, radisson says, in one place, that they went into a "great river" which flowed southward, and journeyed to a land of continual warmth, finer than italy, where he heard the indians describe certain white men living to the south, who might be spaniards. it is supposed by many historians that radisson meant that he was on the mississippi; if this supposition be true, then the two explorers undoubtedly found the great river by going up the fox from the mascoutin village, carrying their canoe over the mile and a half of intervening marsh at portage, and gliding down the wisconsin to its junction with the mississippi at prairie du chien. this is important, for the credit of discovering the upper mississippi is usually given to louis joliet and father marquette, who took this very course in , eighteen years later. but the whole question of what "great river" radisson meant to describe is so involved in doubt, that very likely we shall never know the truth about it. leaving their mascoutin friends at last, apparently in the autumn of , the two adventurers returned down the fox river to green bay; thence on to the large villages of indians which clustered around the sault ste. marie. received there, as elsewhere, with much feasting and good will, radisson and groseilliers conducted trade with their hosts, and explored a long stretch of the southern coast of lake superior, but do not appear to have ventured so far as the pictured rocks. they also made long expeditions into the country, on snowshoes, to visit and trade with other tribes in the michigan peninsula and northern wisconsin, and even as far off as hudson bay, at one time being accompanied by a hundred and fifty indian hunters. in this wild fashion they spent the winter of - , and finally reached quebec in august, . they had been absent from home for two years, and had experienced many singular adventures. it happened that during their absence the iroquois had succeeded in keeping the hurons and other friendly indians from visiting quebec, so that the fur trade, upon which new france depended, was now quite ruined; for this reason the arrival of radisson and groseilliers, with a great store of furs from far-away wisconsin and lake superior, was hailed as a joyful event, and, despite their having departed without a license, they were made welcome at quebec, the cannons being fired and the people flocking on the beach to meet them. men who love adventure cannot be kept out of it long, whatever the risk. three years later, in the summer of , radisson and groseilliers again set off for lake superior, up the old ottawa and georgian bay routes. this time they were specially bidden by the king's officers at quebec not to go, so that they were obliged to slip off secretly, and join a fleet of indian canoes returning home after the annual trade at the french settlements. at sault ste. marie they spent a short time with their savage friends, and then paddled westward, along the southern shore of lake superior. in their company were several huron and ottawa indians, who had recently been compelled to flee to wisconsin because of iroquois raids, which now extended as far west as michigan. the travelers were obliged to carry their boats across keweenaw point, and at last found their way to chequamegon bay, a noble sheet of water, hemmed in by the beautiful apostle islands, and to-day a popular summer resort. not far to the west of where ashland now lies, somewhere near whittlesey's creek, they built for themselves a rude hut, or fort, of logs. the place was a small point of land jutting out into the water, a triangle, radisson describes it, with water on two sides and land at the base. the land side of the triangle was guarded with a palisade of pointed stakes, and to prevent surprises by night, for indians were always prowling about looking for plunder, the traders surrounded their house with boughs of trees piled one upon the other, intertwined with a long cord hung with little bells. after staying at their fort for a few weeks, they managed to _cache_ (secretly bury) the greater part of their goods; and then set out on a hunt with their huron neighbors upon the headwaters of the chippewa river. unusually severe weather set in, and a famine ensued, for there was no game to kill, and the snow was so deep that they could hardly travel. in the following spring ( ) the frenchmen went with their hurons on a long search for provisions, getting as far west as the sioux camps in northern minnesota. then they returned to chequamegon bay, where they built another little fort, and from which they visited some indians on the northwest shore of lake superior. in august they returned home, again in a fleet of huron canoes going down to montreal to trade. but this time the officers of the colony punished them for being _coureurs des bois_, and confiscated most of their valuable furs, which meant the loss of nearly all the property they possessed. angered at this treatment, groseilliers went to paris to seek justice from the king; but, obtaining none, he and radisson offered their services to the english, whom they told of hudson bay and its great furtrading possibilities. it took several years, however, for negotiations to be completed; and it was while in london that radisson, for the information of the english king, wrote his now famous journal of explorations in the lake superior country. finally, after some unfortunate voyages, our explorers, in , reached hudson bay in an english ship; and, as a result, there was formed in england the great hudson bay company, which from that day to this has controlled the rich fur trade of those northern waters. in later years ( ), we find radisson and groseilliers, who had been pardoned by louis xiv., king of france, for their desertion to the english, back again in paris. but after a time, suspicions as to their loyalty spread abroad, and they again joined the english, to whom they were useful in attracting indian trade away from the french to the hudson bay company. they died at last, in london, considered by the french as traitors to their own country. they will, however, live in history as daring explorers, who opened to the fur trade the country now known as wisconsin, the waters of lake superior, and the vast region of hudson bay. the story of joliet and marquette in history there are two "discoveries of the mississippi"; the lower waters were discovered by the spanish explorer, de soto (april, ); and the upper waters, by frenchmen from canada or new france. nothing came of de soto's discovery for over a hundred years, for the spaniards had no love for exploration that gave no promise of mines of precious metals, and it is to the french that we give chief credit for finding the mississippi; for their discovery immediately led the way to a general knowledge of the geography and the savages of the great valley, and to settlements there by whites. it is seldom safe to say who was the first man to discover anything, be it in geography, in science, or in the arts; generally, we can tell only who it was that made the first record of the discovery. now it is quite possible that frenchmen may have wandered into the upper mississippi valley before radisson and groseilliers appeared in wisconsin ( ); but, if they did, we do not know of it. it is still a matter of dispute whether the "great river" described in radisson's journal was the mississippi; some writers think that it was, and that to him and to groseilliers belongs the honor of the first-recorded discovery. then, again, there are some who think that in the famous fur trader la salle was upon the mississippi; but that is a mere guess, and honors cannot be awarded upon guesswork. we do know, however, that in joliet and marquette set out for the very purpose of finding the mississippi, and succeeded; and that upon their return they wrote reports of their trip and made maps of the country. having thus opened the door, as it were, white men were thereafter frequent travelers on the broad waterway. hence it is idle to discuss possible previous visits; to joliet and marquette are due the credit of regular, premeditated discovery. louis joliet, who led this celebrated expedition, was at the time but twenty-eight years old. he was born in quebec, had been educated at the jesuit college there, and early in life became a fur trader. he learned several indian languages, and made numerous long journeys into the wilderness, and, like jean nicolet before him, was regarded by the officers and the missionaries at quebec as a man well fitted for the life of an explorer. in he went with saint lusson, one of the officials of new france, to sault ste. marie. st. lusson made peace with the indians of the northwest, and, in the name of the king of france, took possession of all the country bordering on the upper great lakes. upon returning to quebec, joliet met the famous count frontenac, but recently arrived from paris, where he had been appointed as governor of new france. frontenac was curious to know more about the mississippi river, especially whether it flowed into the pacific ocean, or the "southern sea" as it was then called in europe. in looking about for a man to head an expedition to the great river, he could hear of no one better prepared for such service than joliet. in those early days, no exploring party was complete without a priest; the conversion of the savages to christianity was quite as important, in the eyes of the king, as the development of the fur trade. father jacques marquette, then thirty-six years of age, was the jesuit missionary at point st. ignace, on the straits of mackinac. when joliet reached that outpost, after a long and weary canoe voyage up the now familiar ottawa river and georgian bay route, he delivered orders to marquette to join his party. joliet was a favorite with his old instructors, the jesuits, so that the two young men were well pleased with being united upon this project, joliet to attend to the worldly affairs of the expedition, and marquette to the religious. both of them had had long training in the hard life of the wilderness, and understood indian character and habits as well as any men in new france. it was upon the th of may, , that the two explorers, in high spirits, set forth from marquette's little mission at point ignace. five french boatmen paddled their two canoes, and did most of the heavy work of the journey, carrying the boats and cargoes around rapids, or along portage trails from one river to another. marquette says in his journal: "our joy at being chosen for this expedition roused our courage, and sweetened the labor of paddling from morning to night." the course they took was, no doubt, that followed through nearly two hundred years thereafter by persons journeying in canoes from mackinac to green bay. they paddled along the northern shores of lake michigan and green bay, until they could cross over through the stormy water known as "death's door," to the islands beyond the door county peninsula; and then crept down the east shore of green bay, under the lee of the high banks. they seem to have made good time, for on the th of june they reached the village of the mascoutins, on the south shore of fox river, near where berlin now is, the same village, it will be remembered, where nicolet, radisson, and allouez had already been entertained. we do not know upon what day our two explorers had reached de pere, where the jesuit mission was established, but they probably stayed among their friends there for some days, before going up the fox. in his journal, the good missionary described nearly everything he saw, with much detail. the menominee indians interested him greatly; he calls them "the people of the wild oats," and tells how they gather the grain of these wild oats (or wild rice), by "shaking the ears, on their right and left, into the canoe as they advance" through the swamps. then they take the grain to the land, strip it of much of the chaff, and "dry it in the smoke on a wooden lattice, under which they keep up a small fire for several days. when the oats are well dried, they put them in a skin of the form of a bag, which is then forced into a hole made on purpose in the ground; then they tread it out, so long and so well, that the grain being freed from the chaff is easily winnowed; after which they reduce it to meal." there are still to be seen, on the shores of lake koshkonong, and several other wisconsin lakes and rivers, the shallow, bowl-like holes used by the indians in threshing this grain, as described by marquette two and a quarter centuries ago. the mascoutin village also claims much attention in the missionary's diary. the mascoutins themselves are rude, he says; so also are the kickapoos, many of whom live with them. at this village are also many miami indians, who had fled from their homes in indiana and ohio, through fear of the fierce iroquois of new york. these miamis are, marquette tells us, superior to the wisconsin indians, being "more civil, liberal, and better made; they wear two long earlocks, which give them a good appearance," and are brave, docile, and devout, listening carefully to the missionaries who have visited them. the father also describes the site of the village: "i felt no little pleasure in beholding the position of this town; the view is beautiful and very picturesque, for from the eminence on which it is perched, the eye discovers on every side prairies spreading away beyond its reach, interspersed with thickets or groves of lofty trees. the soil is very good, producing much corn; the indians gather also quantities of plums and grapes, from which good wine could be made, if they chose. as bark for cabins is rare in this country, they use rushes, which serve them for walls and roof, but which are no great shelter against the wind, and still less against the rain when it falls in torrents. the advantage of this kind of cabins is that they can roll them up, and carry them easily where they like in hunting-time." above the mascoutin village, the fox begins to narrow, being hemmed in, and often choked, by broad swamps of reeds and wild oats. the canoe traveler who does not know the channel, is sometimes in danger of missing it, and getting entangled in the maze of bayous. two miami guides were therefore obtained from their hosts, and on the th of june the travelers set off for the southwest, "in the sight of a great crowd, who could not wonder enough to see seven frenchmen alone in two canoes, dare to undertake so strange and so hazardous an expedition." the guides safely conducted them to the place where is now situated the city of portage, helped them over the swampy plain of a mile and a half in width, and, after seeing them embarked upon the broad waters of the wisconsin river, left them "alone in an unknown country, in the hands of providence." the broad valley of the wisconsin presents a far different appearance from that of the peacefully flowing upper fox, with its outlying marshes of reeds, and its numerous lakes. the wisconsin, or meskousing, as marquette writes it, is flanked by ranges of bold, heavily wooded bluffs, which are furrowed with romantic ravines, while the channel is, at low water, studded with islands and sand bars, and in times of flood spreads to a great width. marquette himself describes it thus: "it is very broad, with a sandy bottom, forming many shallows, which render navigation very difficult. it is full of vine-clad islets. on the banks appear fertile lands diversified with wood, prairie, and hill. here you find oaks, walnut, whitewood, and another kind of tree with branches armed with long thorns. we saw no small game or fish, but deer and moose in considerable numbers." about ninety miles below portage, they thought that they discovered an iron mine. at last, on the th of june, they swiftly glided through the picturesque delta of the wisconsin, near prairie du chien, and found themselves upon the mississippi, grateful that after so long and tiresome a journey they had found the object of their search. joliet's instructions were, however, to ascertain whether the great stream flowed into the "southern sea"; so they journeyed as far down as the mouth of the arkansas. there they gathered information from the indians which led them to believe that the river emptied into the gulf of mexico; thus the old riddle of the supposed waterway through the heart of the north american continent was left unsolved. in returning, joliet and marquette came up the illinois river, and reached lake michigan by portaging over to the chicago river. they were back at the jesuit mission at de pere, in september. marquette having fallen ill, joliet was obliged to return to quebec alone, leaving the missionary to spend the winter with his wisconsin friends. when almost within sight of the french settlement at montreal, at the mouth of the ottawa river, poor joliet lost all his papers in the dangerous lachine rapids, and could make only a verbal report to the government. he later prepared a map of his route, with great care, and forwarded that to france; it is one of the best maps of the interior parts of north america made in the seventeenth century. joliet, as the leader of the expedition, had hoped to receive, either in office or lands, substantial rewards for his great discoveries; but there were now new officials at quebec, with whom he had little influence, and the recompense of this brave spirit was small. others reaped what advantages there were in the opening of the mississippi valley to the fur trade. on the other hand, the unworldly priest who was his friend and companion, and who neither desired nor needed special recognition for what he had done, has, all unconsciously, won most of the glory of this brilliant enterprise. under the rules of the jesuit order, each missionary in new france was obliged to forward to his superior at quebec, once each year, a written journal of his doings. marquette prepared his report at leisure during the winter, while at de pere, and in the spring sent it down to quebec, by an indian who was going thither to trade with the whites. accompanying it was a crudely drawn but fairly accurate map of the mississippi basin. the journal and map arrived safely, but for some reason neither was then printed; indeed, they remained almost unknown to the world for a hundred and seventy-nine years, being at last published in . marquette never learned the fate of either joliet's elaborate records or his own simple story of the expedition, for he died in may, , on the eastern shore of lake michigan, worn out by disease and by excessive labors in behalf of the indians. by the time marquette's journal was finally published, joliet had been well-nigh forgotten; and to marquette, because his journal was the only one printed, is given the chief credit in nearly every american history. the legislature of wisconsin has placed a beautiful marble statue of the gentle marquette, as the discoverer of the mississippi, in the capitol in washington; whereas the name of his sturdy chief is perpetuated only in the principal prison city of illinois. the jesuit missionaries in planting settlements in canada (or new france, as it was then called), the french had two principal objects in view: the fur trade with the indians, and the conversion of these indians to the christian religion. roman catholic missionaries from france therefore accompanied the first settlers, and were always prominent in the affairs of the colony. governor champlain brought to quebec some missionaries of the recollect order, a branch of the franciscans; but after a few years, the difficulties of their task proved so great that the recollects asked the jesuits, a much stronger order, to come over and help them. it was not long before nearly all the franciscans returned home, and the jesuits were practically the only missionaries in new france. during the first few years, these missionaries spent their winters in quebec, ministering to the colonists, and each spring went out to meet the indians in their summer camps. it was soon found, however, that greater persistence was needed; and after that, instead of returning home in the autumn, they followed the savages upon their winter hunts. in order to convert the indians, the missionaries studied their many languages, their habits, and their manner of thought, lived as they lived, and with them often suffered untold misery, for life in a savage camp is sometimes almost unbearable to educated and refined white men, such as the french jesuits were. they did not succeed in winning over to christianity many of their savage companions; indeed, the latter frequently treated them with great cruelty, and several of the missionaries were tortured to death. such were the ignorance and superstition of the indians, that every disaster which happened to them, poor luck in hunting, famine, accident, or disease, was attributed to the "black gowns," as the jesuits were called because of their long black cassocks. when the missionaries were performing the rites of their church, baptizing children or sick people, or saying mass, it was thought by these simple barbarians that they were practicing magic for the destruction of the red men. thus the jesuits, during the hundred years or more which they spent in traveling far and near through the forests of new france, seeking new tribes to convert, while still laboring with those already known, were in a state of perpetual martyrdom for the cause of christianity. no soldier has ever performed greater acts of heroism than these devoted disciples of the cross. several of the best and bravest of them were among the pioneers of the wisconsin wilderness. the first jesuit missionary to come to wisconsin was father rené ménard (pr. _ray-nay' may-nar'_). he had sailed from france to canada in the year , when he was thirty-five years old, and on his arrival was sent to the savages east of lake huron, among whom he labored and suffered for eight years. later, he went to the iroquois, in new york, and at last had to fly for his life, on account of an indian plot to murder all the french missionaries in that country. he was for some time the superior of his order, at the three rivers mission, on the st. lawrence, halfway between quebec and montreal, and in the early autumn of was summoned to go to lake superior, which had been made known through the explorations of radisson and groseilliers. these brave adventurers had returned from their second voyage into the northwest, accompanied by a fleet of indian canoes; several of the canoes were manned by hurons from the black river, who had come down all the way to montreal to trade their furs for european goods. the red men spent some ten days there, feasting with the fur trade agents, and about the first of september set out on their return. with them were ménard, his servant, and seven other frenchmen. ménard was now only fifty-five years old, but so severe had been his life among the indians, that his hair was white, he was covered with the scars of wounds, and "his form was bent as with great age." the long journey was therefore a severe strain upon the good man, for in addition to the exposure to weather, he was forced to paddle most of the time, to carry heavy packs over the numerous portage trails, and to suffer many indignities at the hands of his hosts. by the time the company had finally made their weary way up the ottawa river, over to georgian bay, and through to sault ste. marie, the missionary was in a deplorable condition. an accident happened to his canoe, and the frenchmen and three indians were abandoned on the south shore of lake superior, at keweenaw bay. there he was forced to spend the winter in a squalid ottawa village, and nearly lost his life in a famine which overtook the natives of that region. in the spring of , while at keweenaw bay, ménard received an invitation to visit a band of poor, starving hurons at the headwaters of the black river. several of these indians had been baptized by jesuits before the iroquois had driven them out from their old home to the east of lake huron. in spite of his weak condition, and the many perils of this journey of a hundred and fifty miles through the dense forest, the aged missionary bade farewell to the keweenaw ottawas, among whom had also wintered several french fur traders, and in july set out to obey the new summons. in his company were his servant and several hurons who had come to trade with the ottawas. they proceeded along the narrow trail which ran from keweenaw bay to lake vieux désert, the headwaters of the wisconsin river, but the feeble missionary's gait was too slow for the indians, who, after the manner of their kind, promptly deserted their white friends, leaving them to follow and obtain food as best they might. at the lake the frenchmen embarked in a canoe upon the south-flowing wisconsin, and paddled down as far as bill cross rapids, some five or six miles above the mouth of copper river, and not far from where is now the city of merrill. from the foot of these rapids, they had intended leaving their canoe, and following a trail which led off westward through the woods to the headwaters of the black, near the present town of chelsea. ménard's servant took the canoe through the rapids, while the missionary, as usual, to lighten the boat, walked along the portage trail. he must have lost his way and perished of exposure in the depths of the dark and tangled forest, for his servant could not find any trace of him. thus closed the career of wisconsin's pioneer missionary, who died in the pursuit of duty, as might a soldier upon the field of battle. the death of ménard left the lake superior country without a missionary; but four years later ( ), another jesuit was sent thither in the person of claude allouez (pr. _al-loo-ay'_), who chose chequamegon bay for the seat of his labors. there he found a squalid village, near radisson and groseilliers' old forts, on the southwest shore; it was composed of remnants of eight or ten tribes, some of whom had been driven westward by the iroquois and others eastward by the sioux. he called his mission la pointe, from the neighboring long point of land which, projecting northward, divides chequamegon bay from lake superior. allouez could make little impression upon these poor savages. after four years of hard service and ill-treatment, he was relieved by jacques marquette, a youthful and enthusiastic priest. late in the autumn of , allouez went to fox river, and there he founded the mission of st. francis xavier, overlooking the rapids of de pere.[ ] this was a more successful mission than the one at chequamegon bay; for, during the next summer, the western sioux furiously attacked the indian neighbors of marquette and sent them all flying eastward, like dry leaves before an october gale. the zealous marquette accompanied them, and, with such bands as he could induce to settle around him, opened a new mission on the mainland near mackinac island, at the point st. ignace of to-day. [footnote : called by the early french _rapides des pères_, or "the fathers' rapids"; but it was soon shortened into _des pères_, and finally, by the americans, into _de pere_.] [illustration: site of the mission at de pere] meanwhile, allouez continued his mission at de pere, making long trips throughout wisconsin, preaching to the indians, and establishing the mission of st. mark on the wolf river, probably on or near lake shawano, where the chippewas then lived in great numbers. later, he opened st. james mission at the mascoutin village near berlin. his churches were mere huts or wigwams built of reeds and bark, after the manner of the natives. another jesuit, louis andré, was sent to wisconsin to assist this enterprising missionary, and they traveled among the tribes, preaching and healing the sick in nearly every indian village in the wide country between lake michigan and the mississippi. the career of these good missionaries was not one of ease. their lives were frequently in peril; they suffered severely from cruel treatment, hunger, cold, and the many hardships of forest travel; and were rewarded by few conversions. allouez remained in wisconsin until , when he departed to carry on a similar work in illinois, dying thirteen years later, after a score of years spent in western missions. in wisconsin, he was succeeded, in turn, by several others of his order; chief among them were fathers silvy, albanel, nouvel, enjalran, and chardon. chardon was the last of his kind, for he, with other frenchmen, was driven out of wisconsin in , at the time of the fox war. it was during the time of enjalran, at de pere, that nicolas perrot, a famous fur trader, was military commandant for the french in the country west of lake michigan. in all this vast district, enjalran was then the only priest. in token of his appreciation of its work, perrot presented to the mission a beautiful silver _ostensorium_ (or _soleil_) made in paris. the _ostensorium_ is one of the vessels used at the altar, in celebrating the mass. this was in the year ; the following year, during one of the frequent outbursts of indian hostility against the missionaries, enjalran was obliged to fly for his life. in order to lighten his burden, he buried this silver vessel, evidently intending to return some time and regain possession of it. in , a hundred and fifteen years later, a man was digging a cellar in green bay, several miles lower down the bank of the fox river than is de pere, when his pickax ran through this piece of silver. it was brought to light, and for safe keeping was given to the catholic priest then at green bay. nobody would have known its story except for the clearly engraved inscription on the bottom; the words are in french, but in english they signify: "this soleil was given by mr. nicolas perrot to the mission of st. francis xavier, at the bay of the puants, "; for the early french name for green bay was "bay of the puants." the old _ostensorium_, with its inscription just as plainly to be read to-day as when engraved over two centuries ago, can now be seen among the treasures of the state historical society, at madison. it is an enduring memorial to the labors and the sufferings of wisconsin's first missionaries. some notable visitors to early wisconsin it has been pointed out that wandering fur traders were in wisconsin at a very early date. we have seen that nicolet, radisson, and groseilliers made wisconsin known to the world, at a time when massachusetts colony was still young. it will be remembered that when father ménard went to lake superior, in , to convert the indians, there were several french fur traders with him. as early as the spring of , these same traders had gone across country to the mouth of the fox river. three years later the menominees and pottawattomies, then living on both sides of the bay, were visited by nicolas perrot, a daring young spirit from quebec, who had come to the then far west to make his fortune in trading with the red men. perrot was one of the most picturesque characters in wisconsin history. in canada he had been a servant of the jesuit missionaries, acquiring in this work an education which was slight as to books, but broad as to knowledge of the indians and of forest life. he was now twenty-one years of age, and started out for himself as soon as he was his own master. for five years perrot wandered up and down the eastern half of wisconsin, frequently visiting his friends, the mascoutins and miamis, on the fox river. he smoked pipes of peace with them and with other forest and prairie tribes, and joined in their feasts of beaver, dog, and other savage delicacies. in he and four other frenchmen, packing their furs into bundles of convenient size, joined a large party of indians going down to montreal in canoes, to trade. perrot did not return with his companions, but visited quebec, and there received an appointment from the government to rally the western tribes in a great council at sault ste. marie. here a treaty was to be made, binding the savages to an alliance with france. the french were very jealous of the english, who had, through the guidance of radisson and groseilliers, commenced fur trade operations in the hudson bay country. it was feared that they would entice the indians of the upper great lakes to trade with them, for the english offered higher prices for furs than did the french. perrot spent the winter in visiting the tribes in wisconsin and along the northern shores of lakes michigan and huron, and succeeded in inducing large bands of them to go to the sault early in may ( ). the council was attended by an enormous gathering, representing tribes from all over the northwest, even from the north shores of lake superior and hudson bay. father marquette was there with the ottawas, and several other famous missionaries came to the council. the interpreter, who knew indian dialects by the score, was no less a person than louis joliet. the french government was represented by saint lusson, who concluded the desired treaty, with great ceremony, took formal possession of all this country for the king of france, and reared on the spot a great cedar pole, to which he fastened a lead plate bearing the arms of his country. this symbol the simple and wondering savages could not understand: and as soon as the frenchmen had gone home again, they tore it down, fearing that it was a charm which might bring bad luck to the tribesmen. and now we find perrot suddenly losing his office, and forced for ten years to live a quiet life in the french settlements on the lower st. lawrence. he married a well-to-do young woman, reared a considerable family, and became a man of some influence. but he was always eager to be back in the forest, wandering from tribe to tribe, and engaging in the wilderness trade, where the profits were great, though the risks to life and property were many. in he returned to the woods, but not till three years later was he so far west as mackinac. in he appeared once more at green bay, this time holding the position of commandant of the west, with a little company of twenty soldiers. he now had almost unlimited authority to explore and traffic as he would, for the only salary an official of that sort used to get, in new france, was the right to trade with the indians. he had already lost money in working for the government as an indian agent, and his present operations were wholly directed toward getting it back again. he went up the fox and down the wisconsin, and then ascended the mississippi to trade with the wild sioux tribe. for headquarters, he erected a little log stockade on the east bank of the mississippi, about a mile above the present village of trempealeau, and south of the mouth of black river. in the year , the site of this old stockade was discovered by a party of historical students, and many of the curious relics found there can now be seen in the museum of the state historical society, at madison. all through the winter of - , perrot traded here with the sioux. he had a most captivating manner of treating indians; for a long time, few of them ventured to deny any request made by him. chiefs from far and near would come to the trempealeau "fort," as it was called, and hold long councils and feasts with the great white chief, and more than once he was subjected to the curious sioux ceremony of being wept over. a chief would stand over his guest and weep copiously, his tears falling upon the guest's head; when the chief's tear ducts were exhausted, he would be relieved by some headman of the tribe, who in turn was succeeded by another, and so on until the guest was well drenched. this must have been a very trying experience to perrot, but he was shrewd enough to pretend to be much pleased by it. in the spring of , the same year in which he gave the silver _ostensorium_ to the jesuit chapel at de pere, the commandant proceeded up the mississippi to the broadening which was, about this time, named lake pepin by the french. on the wisconsin shore, not far above the present village of pepin, he erected another and stronger stockade, fort st. antoine. it was here, three years later, that, after the manner of saint lusson at sault ste. marie, he formally took possession, in the name of his king, of all the upper mississippi valley. several other forts were built by perrot along the mississippi, none of them more than groups of stout log houses. these were surrounded by a stockade wall of heavy logs well planted in the ground, sharpened at the top, pierced for musket fire, and sometimes surmounted by a small cannon. the stockade whose ruins were unearthed at trempealeau, measured about forty-five by sixty feet. one of his stockades, fort perrot, was on the minnesota shore of lake pepin; still another, fort st. nicholas, was near the "lower town" of the prairie du chien of to-day, at the confluence of the wisconsin and the mississippi; and it also appears that he had a stockade lower down the mississippi, to guard a lead mine which he had discovered near galena, because lead was an important article for both fur traders and indians. sometimes traders fought among themselves, for the possession of a lead mine. perrot made frequent voyages to the settlements on the st. lawrence river, and engaged in some of the french expeditions against the hostile iroquois of new york. while, on the whole, he was successful in holding the western tribes in friendship to new france, his position was not without grave perils. one time his old friends, the mascoutins, rose against him, claiming that he had killed one of their warriors. the claim may have been true, for he was a man of violent temper, and ruled the wisconsin forests after the despotic fashion of an asiatic prince. the mascoutins captured perrot, in company with a pottawattomie chief, and carrying them to their village, robbed the commandant of all his furs, and decided to burn the prisoners at the stake. but while being conducted to the fire, the two managed by artifice to escape, and at last reached in safety their friends at the mouth of the fox river. another time, the miamis captured perrot, and would have burned him except for the interference of the fox indians, with whom he was friendly. in , owing to the uprising of the foxes, the king ordered that all the western posts be abandoned, and their little garrisons removed to montreal and quebec. thus suddenly ended the career of perrot, who returned a poor man, for his recent losses in furs had been heavy, and his expenses of keeping up the posts large. again and again he sought redress from the government, and the wisconsin foxes earnestly pleaded that he be sent back to them, as "the best beloved of all the french who have ever been among us." but his star had set, he no longer had influence; and it had just been decided to punish his friends the foxes. perrot lived about twenty years longer, on the banks of the lower st. lawrence, and died in old age, like joliet, in neglect and poverty. during much of the time that perrot was commandant of the west, several other great fur traders were conducting operations in wisconsin. the greatest of these was the chevalier la salle, the famous explorer, who plays a large part on the stage of western history, particularly in the history of the mississippi valley. it has been claimed for la salle that he was in wisconsin in , two years before joliet, and actually canoed on the mississippi river, but this is more than doubtful. we do know that in one of his agents was trading with the sioux to the west of lake superior; and that in he came to green bay in a small vessel called the _griffin_, the first sailing craft on the great lakes above the cataract of niagara. la salle was a _coureur de bois_, most of this time, for he operated in a field far larger than that for which he had a license. leaving his ship, which was afterward wrecked, he and fourteen of his men proceeded in canoes southward along the western coast of lake michigan, visiting the sites of milwaukee and other wisconsin lakeshore cities. finally, after many strange adventures, they ascended st. joseph river, crossed over to the kankakee river, and spent the winter in a log fort which they built on peoria lake, a broadening of the illinois river. at least one priest was thought necessary in every well-equipped exploring expedition. la salle had quarreled with the jesuits, and hated them; hence the ministers of religion in his party were three franciscan friars, one of them being father louis hennepin, who afterward became famous. when la salle determined to spend the winter at peoria lake, he sent hennepin forward with two _coureurs de bois_, to explore the upper waters of the mississippi. these three adventurers descended the illinois river in their canoe, and then ascended the mississippi to the falls of st. anthony, where now lies the great city of minneapolis; there they met some sioux, and went with them upon a buffalo hunt. but the indians, although at first friendly, soon turned out to be a bad lot, for they robbed their guests, and practically held them as prisoners. this was in the early summer of . luckily for hennepin and his companions, the powerful _coureur de bois_, daniel graysolon duluth (_du luth_) appeared on the scene. duluth was, next to perrot, the leading man in the country around lake superior and the upper mississippi valley. he had been spending the winter trading with the sioux in the lake country of northern minnesota, and along pigeon river, which is now the dividing line between minnesota and canada. with a party of ten of his boatmen, he set out in june to reach the mississippi, his route taking him up the turbulent little bois brulé river, over the mile and a half of portage trail to upper lake st. croix, and down st. croix river to the mississippi. on reaching the latter, he learned of the fact that europeans were being detained and maltreated by the sioux, and at once went and rescued them. the summer was spent among the indians in company with hennepin's party, who, now that duluth was found to be their friend, were handsomely treated. in the autumn, duluth, hennepin, and their companions all returned down the mississippi, up the wisconsin, and down the fox, and spent the winter at mackinac. after that, duluth was frequently upon the fox-wisconsin route, and traded for buffalo hides and other furs with the wisconsin tribes. another famous visitor to wisconsin, in those early days, was pierre le sueur, who in traveled from lake michigan to the mississippi, over the fox-wisconsin route, and traded with the sioux at the falls of st. anthony and beyond. his fur trade grew, in a few years, to large proportions; for he was a shrewd man, and was related to some of the officials of new france. this enabled him to secure trading licenses for the western country, and other valuable privileges, which gave him an advantage over the unlicensed traders, like duluth, who had no official friends. in , le sueur was trading in duluth's old country; and, in order to protect the old bois brulé and st. croix route from marauding indians, he built a log fort at either end, one on chequamegon bay, and the other on an island in the mississippi, below the mouth of the st. croix. a few years later, le sueur was in france, where he obtained a license to operate certain "mines of lead, copper, and blue and green earth," which he claimed to have discovered along the banks of the upper mississippi. in the summer of , he and his party opened lead mines in the neighborhood of the present dubuque and galena, and also near the modern town of potosi, wisconsin. he does not appear to have been very successful as a miner; but his fur trade was still enormous, and his many explorations led to the upper mississippi being quite correctly represented on the maps of america, made by the european geographers. a missionary priest, father st. cosme, of quebec, was in green bay in october, , and proposed to visit the mississippi region, by way of the fox and wisconsin rivers. but the warlike foxes, who were giving the french a great deal of trouble at this time, had forbidden any white man passing over this favorite waterway, so st. cosme was obliged to go the way that la salle had followed, up the west shore of lake michigan and through illinois. the party stopped at many places along the wisconsin lake shore, but the only ones which we can identify are the sites of sheboygan and milwaukee, where there were large indian villages. it is not to be supposed that these were all the frenchmen to tarry in or pass through wisconsin during the latter half of the seventeenth century. doubtless there were scores, if not hundreds of others, fur traders, _voyageurs_, soldiers, and priests; we have selected but a few of those whose movements were recorded in the writings of their time. wisconsin was a key point in the geography of the west; here were the interlaced sources of rivers flowing north into lake superior, east and northeast into lake michigan, and west and southwest into the mississippi river. the canoe traveler from lower canada could, with short portages, pass through wisconsin into waters reaching far into the interior of the continent, even to the rocky mountains, the lakes of the canadian northwest, and the gulf of mexico. this is why the geography of wisconsin became known so early in the history of our country, why wisconsin indians played so important a part on the stage of border warfare, and why history was being made here at a time when some of the states to the east of us were still almost unknown to white men. a quarter of a century of warfare wisconsin was important, from a geographical point of view, because here were the meeting places of waters which flowed in so many directions; here were the gates which opened upon widely divergent paths. the explorer and the fur trader soon discovered this, and wisconsin became known to them at a very early period. france had two important colonies in north america, new france (or canada), upon the st. lawrence river, and louisiana, extending northward indefinitely from the gulf of mexico. it was found necessary, in pushing her claim to the ownership of all of the continent west of the alleghany mountains and east of the rockies, to connect new france and louisiana with a chain of little forts along the great lakes and the mississippi river. the forts at detroit, mackinac, green bay, prairie du chien, and kaskaskia (in illinois) were links in this chain, at the center of which was wisconsin; or, to use another figure, wisconsin was the keystone of the arch which bridged the two french colonies. there were six principal canoe routes between the great lakes and the mississippi: one by way of the maumee and wabash rivers, another by way of st. joseph river and the kankakee and the illinois, another by way of the st. joseph, wabash, and ohio rivers, still another by way of the chicago river and the illinois, and we have already seen that from lake superior there were used the bois brulé and the st. croix routes. but the easiest of all, the favorite gateway, was the fox-wisconsin route, for all the others involved considerable hardship; this is why wisconsin was so necessary to the french military officers in holding control of the interior of the continent. affairs went well enough so long as the french were on good terms with the warlike and crafty fox indians, who held control of the fox river. but after a time the foxes became uneasy. the fur trade in new france was in the hands of a monopoly, which charged large fees for licenses, and fixed its own prices on the furs which it bought, and on the indian goods which it sold to the forest traders. on the other hand, the fur trade in the english colonies east of the alleghanies was free; any man could engage in it and go wherever he would. the result was that the english, with the strong competition among themselves, paid higher prices to the indians for furs than the french could afford, and their prices for articles which the indians wanted were correspondingly lower than those of the french. the indians were always eager for a bargain; and although the french declared that those trading with the english were enemies of new france, they persisted in secretly sending trading parties to the english, who were now beginning to swarm into the ohio valley. the foxes, in particular, grew very angry with the french for charging them such high prices, and resented the treatment which they received at the hands of the traders from quebec and montreal. at one time they told perrot that they would pack up their wigwams, and move in a body to the wabash river or to the ohio, and form a league with the fierce iroquois of new york, who were friends and neighbors of the english. had they done so, the french fur trade in the west would have suffered greatly. the foxes began to make it disagreeable for the french in wisconsin. they insisted on collecting tolls on fur trade bateaux which were being propelled up the fox river, and even stopped traders entirely; several murders of frenchmen were also charged to them. the french thereupon determined to punish these rebellious savages who sat within the chief gateway to the mississippi. in the winter of - , a large party of soldiers, _coureurs des bois_, and half-breeds, under a captain named marin, ascended the fox river on snowshoes and attacked the foxes, together with their allies, the sacs, at a large village at winnebago rapids, near where is now the city of neenah. several hundreds of the savages were killed in this assault, but its effect was to make the foxes the more troublesome. a few summers later, this same marin arranged again to surprise the enemy. his boats were covered with oilcloth blankets, in the manner adopted by the traders to protect the goods against rain; only two _voyageurs_ were visible in each boat to propel it. arriving at the foot of winnebago rapids, the canoes were ranged along the shore, and nearly fifteen hundred indians came out and squatted on the bank, ready to collect toll of the traders. all of a sudden the covers were thrown off, and the armed men appeared and raked the indians with quick volleys of lead, while a small cannon in marin's boat increased the effectiveness of the attack. tradition says that over a thousand foxes and sacs fell in this massacre; this is one of the many incidents in white men's relations with the indians, wherein savages were outsavaged in the practice of ferocious treachery. despite the great slaughter, there appear to have been enough foxes left to continue giving the french a great deal of annoyance. there were fears at quebec that it might be necessary to abandon the attempt to connect new france and louisiana by a trail through the western woods, in which case the english would have a free run of the mississippi valley. there seem, however, not to have been any more warlike expeditions to wisconsin for several years. but in may, , the french induced large numbers of the foxes, with their friends, the mascoutins, the kickapoos, and the sacs, to come to detroit for the making of a treaty of peace. at the same time the french also assembled there large bands of the pottawattomies and menominees from wisconsin, with illinois indians, some camps from missouri, and hurons and ottawas from the lake huron country; all of these were enemies of the foxes. the records do not show just why it happened; but for some reason the french and their allies fired on the foxes and their friends, who were well intrenched in a palisaded camp outside the walls of detroit. a great siege ensued, lasting nineteen days, in which the slaughter on both sides was heavy; but at last the foxes, worn out by loss of numbers, hunger, and disease, took advantage of a dark, rainy night to escape northward. they were pursued the following day, but again intrenched themselves with much skill, and withstood another siege of five days, when they surrendered. the french and their savage allies fell upon the poor captives with fury and slew nearly all of them, men, women, and children. the poor foxes had lost in this terrible experience upward of fifteen hundred of the bravest of their tribe, which was now reduced to a few half-starved bands. but their spirit was not gone. next year the officers at quebec wrote home to paris: "the fox indians are daily becoming more insolent." they had begun to change their tactics; instead of wasting their energies on the french, they began to make friends with, or to intimidate, neighboring tribes. by means of small, secret war parties, they would noiselessly swarm out of the wisconsin forests and strike hard blows at the prairie indians of illinois, who preferred to remain their enemies. in this manner the illinois indians were reduced to a mere handful, and were compelled to seek shelter under the guns of the french fort at kaskaskia. at the same time the foxes were in close alliance with the sioux and other great western tribes, who helped them lock the gate of the fox-wisconsin rivers, and plunder and murder french traders wherever they could be found throughout wisconsin. again it seemed evident that new france, unless something were done, could never maintain its chain of communication with louisiana, or conduct any fur trade in the northwest. the something decided on was an attempt to destroy the foxes, root and branch. for this purpose there was sent out to wisconsin, in , a well-equipped expedition under an experienced captain named de louvigny, numbering eight hundred men, whites and indians. the foxes were found living in a walled town upon the mound now known as little butte des morts, on the west side of fox river, opposite the present neenah. the wall consisted of three rows of stout palisades, reënforced by a deep ditch; tradition says there were here assembled five hundred braves and three thousand squaws and other noncombatants. the french found it necessary to lay siege to this forest fortress, just as they would attack a european city of that time; trenches and mines were laid, and pushed forward at night, until, at the close of the third day, everything was ready to blow up the palisades. at this point the foxes surrendered, but they gained easy terms for those days, for de louvigny was no butcher of men, and appeared to appreciate their bravery. they gave up their prisoners, they furnished enough slaves to the allies of the french to take the place of the warriors slain, they agreed to furnish furs enough to pay the expenses of the expedition, and sent six hostages to quebec to answer for their future behavior. the next year, de louvigny returned to the valley of the fox, from quebec, and made a treaty with the foxes, but nothing came of it. treaties were easily made with indian tribes, in the days of new france, and as easily broken by either side. in the very next year, the foxes were again making raids on the french-loving illinois, and the entire west was, as usual, torn by strife. it was evident that the foxes were trying to gain control of the illinois river, and thus command both of the principal roads to the mississippi. the french were at this time enthusiastic over great schemes for opening mines on the mississippi, operating northward from louisiana; agriculture was beginning to flourish around kaskaskia; and grain, flour, and furs were being shipped down the mississippi to the french islands in the west indies, and across the ocean to france. more than ever was it necessary to unite louisiana with canada by a line of communication. but just now the foxes were stronger than they had been at any time. their shrewd warriors had organized a great confederacy to shut out the french, and thereby advance the cause of english trade, although it is not known that the english assisted in this widespread conspiracy. fox warriors were sent with pipes of peace among the most distant tribes of the west, the south, and the north, and it seemed as if the whole interior of the continent were rising in arms. a french writer of the period says of the foxes: "their fury increased as their forces diminished. on every side they raised up new enemies against us. the whole course and neighborhood of the mississippi is infested with indians with whom we have no quarrel, and who yet give to the french no quarter." this condition lasted for a few years. but indian leagues do not ordinarily long endure. we soon find the foxes weak again, with few to back them; in , at a council in green bay, they were apologizing for having made so much trouble. the french were, however, still afraid of these wily folk, and two years later ( ) a little army of four hundred frenchmen and nine hundred indian allies advanced on the fox villages by way of the ottawa river route and mackinac. the foxes, together with their winnebago friends, had heard of the approach of the whites, and fled; but the white invaders burned every deserted village in the valley, and destroyed all the crops, leaving the red men to face the rigor of winter with neither huts nor food. fleeing from their native valley before the onset of the army, the unhappy fugitives, said to have been four thousand in number, descended the wisconsin and ascended the mississippi, to find their sioux allies in the neighborhood of lake pepin. but the sioux had been won by french presents, distributed from the fur trade fort on that lake, and turned the starving tribesmen away; the ever-treacherous winnebagoes of the party sided with the sioux; the sacs expressed repentance, and hurried home to green bay to make their peace with the french; the mascoutins now proved to be enemies. thus deserted, the disconsolate foxes passed the winter in iowa, and sent messengers to the green bay fort, begging for forgiveness. but there was no longer any peace for the foxes. indians friendly with the french attacked one of their iowa camps; and in the autumn of they sought in humble fashion to return to the valley of the fox; but they were ambuscaded by a french-directed party of ottawas, menominees, chippewas, and winnebagoes, and after a fierce fight lost nearly three hundred by death and capture; the prisoners, men, women, and children, were burned at the stake. turning southward, the greater part of the survivors of this ill-starred tribe sought a final asylum upon the illinois river, not far from peoria. three noted french commanders, heads of garrisons in the western country, now gathered their forces, which aggregated a hundred and seventy frenchmen and eleven hundred indians; and in august, , gave battle to the fugitives, who were now outnumbered full four to one. the contest, notable for the gallant sorties of the besieged and the cautious military engineering of the besiegers, lasted throughout twenty-two days; probably never in the history of the west has there been witnessed more heroic conduct than was displayed during this remarkable campaign. it was inevitable that the foxes should lose in the end, but they sold themselves dearly. not over fifty or sixty escaped; and it is said that three hundred warriors perished in battle or afterwards at the stake, while six hundred women and children were either tomahawked or burned. it is surprising, after all these massacres, that there were any members of the tribe left; yet we learn that two years later ( ) three hundred of them were living peaceably on the banks of the wisconsin river, when still another french and indian band swept down upon and either captured or slaughtered them all. of another small party, which sought mercy from the officer of the fort at green bay, several, including the head chief of the foxes, kiala, were sent away into slavery, and wore away their lives in menial drudgery upon the tropical island of martinique. the remainder took refuge with the sacs, on fox river; and the following year the french commander at green bay asked the sacs to give them up. this time the sacs proved to be good friends, and refused; and in the quarrel which followed at the sac town, eight french soldiers were killed. this led to later retaliation on the part of the french, but in the battle which was fought both sides lost heavily; and then both sacs and foxes fled from the country, never to return. they settled upon the banks of the des moines river, in iowa, whither french hate again sought them out in . this last expedition, however, was a failure, and the fox war was finally ended, after twenty-five years of almost continuous bloodshed. during this war not only had the great tribe of the foxes been almost annihilated, but the power of france in the west had meanwhile been greatly weakened by the persistent opposition of those who had held the key to her position. the commerce of the forest we have seen in previous chapters why wisconsin, with her intermingling rivers, was considered the key to the french position in the interior of north america; why it was that fur traders early sought this state, and erected log forts along its rivers and lakes to protect their commerce with the people of the forest. it remains to be told what were the conditions of this widespreading and important forest trade. the french introduced to our indians iron pots and kettles, which were vastly stronger than their crude utensils of clay; iron fishhooks, hatchets, spears, and guns, which were not only more durable, but far more effective than their old weapons of stone and copper and bone; cloths and blankets of many colors, from which attractive clothing was more easily made than from the skins of beasts; and glass beads and silver trinkets, for the decoration of their clothing and bodies, which cost far less labor to obtain than did ornaments made from clam shells. to secure these french goods, the indians had but to hunt and bring the skins to the white men. the indian who could secure a gun found it easier to get skins than before, and he also had a weapon which made him more powerful against his enemies. it was not long before the indian forgot how to make utensils and weapons for himself, and became very dependent on the white trader. this is why the fur trade was at the bottom of every event in the forest, and for full two hundred years was of supreme importance to all the people who lived in the wisconsin woods. all trade in new france was in the control of a monopoly, which charged heavy fees for licenses, severely punished all the unlicensed traders who could be detected, and fixed its own prices for everything. french traders were obliged, therefore, to charge the indians more for their goods than the english charged for theirs; and it was a continual and often bloody struggle to keep the indians of the northwest from having any trade with the english colonists from the atlantic coast, who had with great labor crossed the alleghany mountains and were now swarming into the ohio river valley. it was impossible to prevent the english trade altogether, but the policy was in the main successful, although it cost the french a deal of anxiety, and sometimes great expense in military operations. during the greater part of the french régime in wisconsin, the bulk of the goods for the indians came up by the ottawa river route, because the warlike iroquois of new york favored the english, and for a long time kept frenchmen from entering the lower lakes of ontario and erie. finally, however, after the fort at detroit was built ( ), the lower lakes came to be used. it was, by either route, a very long and tiresome journey from quebec or montreal to wisconsin, and owing to the early freezing of the straits of mackinac, but one trip could be made in a year. it was not, however, necessary for every trader to go to the "lower settlements" each year. at the western forts large stocks of goods were kept, and there the furs were stored, sometimes for several seasons, until a great fleet of canoes could be made up by bands of traders and friendly indians; and then the expedition to montreal was made, with considerable display of barbaric splendor. when the traders reached montreal, the inhabitants of the settlement turned out to welcome their visitors from the wilderness, and something akin to a great fair was held, at which speculators bought up the furs, feasts were eaten and drunk, and fresh treaties of peace were made with the indians. a week or two would thus pass in universal festivity, at the end of which traders and savages would seek their canoes, and, amid volleys of cannon from the fort, martial music, the fluttering of flags, and the shouts of the _habitants_, the fleet would push off, and soon be swallowed again by the all-pervading forest. when the french were driven out of canada, in , and the british assumed control, the english hudson bay company began spreading its operations over the northwest. but in , at the close of the revolutionary war, the northwest company was organized, with headquarters at montreal. the british still held possession of our northwest long after the treaty with the united states was signed. soon sailing ships were introduced, and many goods were thus brought to mackinac, green bay, and chequamegon bay; nevertheless, canoes and bateaux, together with the more modern "mackinac boats" and "durham boats," were for many years largely used upon these long western journeys from montreal. to a still later date were these rude craft sent out from the mackinac warehouses to wisconsin, or from mackinac to the famous headquarters of the company at the mouth of pigeon river, on the western shore of lake superior, the "grand portage," as it was called. it was a life filled with great perils, by land and flood; many were the men who lost their lives in storms, in shooting river rapids, in deadly quarrels with one another or with the savages, by exposure to the elements, or by actual starvation. yet there was a glamour over these wild experiences, as is customary wherever men are associated as comrades in an outdoor enterprise involving common dangers and hardships. the excitement and freedom of the fur trade appealed especially to the volatile, fun loving french; and music and badinage and laughter often filled the day. after the americans assumed control, in , congress forbade the british to conduct the fur trade in our country. this was to prevent them from influencing the western indians to war; but turning out the english traders served greatly to help the american fur company, founded by john jacob astor, and having its headquarters on the island of mackinac. nevertheless the agents, the clerks, and the _voyageurs_ were still nearly all of them frenchmen, as of old, and there was really very little change in the methods of doing business, except that astor managed to reap most of the profits. [illustration: john jacob astor] the fur trade lasted, as a business of prime importance to wisconsin, until about . it was at its greatest height in , at which time green bay was the chief settlement in wisconsin. by new interests had arisen, with the development of the lead mines in the southwest, and with the advent of agricultural settlers from the east, upon the close of the black hawk war ( ). the fur trade led the way to the agricultural and manufacturing life of to-day. the traders naturally chose indian villages as the sites for most of their posts, and such villages were generally at places well selected for the purpose. they were on portage trails, where craft had to be carried around falls or rapids, as at de pere, kaukauna, appleton, and neenah; or they were on portage plains, between distinct water systems, as at portage and sturgeon bay; or they were at the mouths or junctions of rivers, as at milwaukee, sheboygan, oshkosh, lacrosse, and prairie du chien; or they occupied commanding positions on lake or river bank, overlooking a wide stretch of country. thus most of the leading cities of wisconsin are on the sites of old indian villages; for the reasons which led to their choice by the indians held good with the white pioneers in the old days when rivers and lakes were the chief highways. thus we have first the indian village, then the trading post, and later the modern town. the indian trails were also largely used by the traders in seeking the natives in their villages; later these trails developed into public roads, when american settlers came to occupy the country. thus we see that wisconsin was quite thoroughly explored, its principal cities and highways located, and its water ways mapped out by the early french, long before the inrush of agricultural colonists. in the old french days in establishing their chain of rude forts, or trading posts, along the great lakes and through the valley of the mississippi, the french had no desire to plant agricultural settlements in the west. their chief thought was to keep the continental interior as a great fur bearing wilderness; to encourage the indians to hunt for furs, by supplying all their other wants with articles made in europe; and to prevent them from carrying any of their furs to the english, who were always underbidding the french in prices. the officers of these forts were instructed to bully or to persuade the indians, as occasion demanded; and some of them became very successful in this forest diplomacy. around most of the forts were small groups of temporary settlers, who could hardly be called colonists, for they expected when they had made their fortunes, or when their working days were over, to return to their own people on the lower st. lawrence river. it was rather an army of occupation, than a body of settlers. nearly every one in the settlement was dependent on the fur trade, either as agent, clerk, trapper, boatman, or general employee. sometimes these little towns were the outgrowth of early jesuit missions, as la pointe (on chequamegon bay), or green bay (de pere); but sooner or later the fur trade became the chief interest. most of the towns, however, like milwaukee, la crosse, or prairie du chien, were the direct outgrowth of commerce with the savages. there were trading posts, also, on lakes chetek, flambeau, court oreilles, and sandy, but the settlements about them were very small, and they never grew into permanent towns, as did some of the others. at all these places, the little log forts served as depots for furs and the goods used in trading with the indians; they were also used as rallying points for the traders and other white inhabitants of the district, in times of indian attack. they would have been of slight avail against an enemy with cannon, but afforded sufficient protection against the arrows, spears, and muskets of savages. the french canadians who lived in these waterside hamlets were an easy-going folk. nearly all of them were engaged in the fur trade at certain seasons of the year. the _bourgeois_, or masters, were the chiefs. the _voyageurs_ were men of all work, propelling the canoes and bateaux when afloat, carrying the craft and their contents over portages, transporting packs of goods and furs along the forest trails, caring for the camps, and acting as guards for the persons and property of their employers. the _coureurs de bois_, or wood rangers, were everywhere; they were devoted to a life in the woods, for the fun and excitement in it; they conducted trade on their own account, far off in the most inaccessible places, and were men of great daring. then there were the _habitants_, or permanent villagers; sometimes these worked as _voyageurs_, but for the most part they were farmers in a small way, cultivating long, narrow "claims" running at right angles to the river bank; one can still find at green bay and prairie du chien, traces of some of these old "french claims." the object of having them so narrow was, that the _habitants_ could live close to one another, along the waterside. they were of a very social nature, these french _habitants_. they liked to meet frequently, enjoy their pipes, and tell stories of the hunt or of old days on the st. lawrence. they were famous fiddlers, too. no wilderness so far away that the little french fiddle had not been there; the indians recognized it as a part of the furniture of every fur trader's camp. music appealed strongly to these warm natures, and the songs of the _voyageurs_, as they propelled their canoes along the wisconsin rivers, always greatly interested travelers. french canadians are still living in wisconsin, who remember those gay melodies which echoed through our forests a hundred years ago. the old french life continued in wisconsin until well into the nineteenth century. although new france fell in , and the british came into control, they never succeeded in anglicizing wisconsin. english fur companies succeeded the french, and british soldiers occupied the wisconsin forts; but the fur trade itself had still to be conducted through french residents, who alone had the confidence of the indians. great britain was supposed to surrender all this country to the united states in ; but it was really before the american flag floated over green bay, and the american fur company came into power. but, even under this company, most of the actual trading was done through the french; so we may say that as long as the fur trade remained the chief industry of wisconsin, about to the year , the old french life was still maintained, and french methods were everywhere in evidence. it is surprising how strongly marked upon our wisconsin are the memories of the old french days. a quiet, unobtrusive people, were those early french, without high ambitions, and simple in their tastes; yet they and theirs have displayed remarkable tenacity of life, and doubtless their effect upon us of to-day will never be effaced. our map is sprinkled all over with the french names which they gave to our hills and lakes and streams, and early towns. we may here mention a few only, at random: lakes flambeau, court oreilles, pepin, vieux désert; the rivers bois brulé, eau claire, eau pleine, embarrass, st. croix; the counties eau claire, fond du lac, la crosse, langlade, marquette, portage, racine, st. croix, trempealeau; the towns of racine, la crosse, prairie du chien, butte des morts. scores of others can readily be found in the atlas. in the cities of green bay, kaukauna, portage, and prairie du chien, and the dreamy little fox river hamlet of grand butte des morts, are still to be found little closely-knit colonies of french creoles, descendants of those who lived and ruled under the old french régime. the time must come, in the molding of all the foreign elements in our midst into the american of the future, when the french element will no longer exist among us as an element, but merely as a memory. if our posterity can inherit from those early french occupants of our soil their simple tastes, their warm hearts, their happy temperament, their social virtues, then the old french régime will have brought a blessing to wisconsin, and not merely a halo of historical romance. the coming of the english upon the eighth day of september, , the french flag ceased to fly over canada. in a long and bitter struggle, lasting at intervals through an entire century, french and english had been battling with each other for the control of the interior of this continent; and the former had lost everything at the decisive battle on the plains of abraham, before the walls of quebec. reduced to the last extremity, the authorities of new france had ordered her fur traders, _coureurs de bois_ and all, to hurry down to the settlements on the st. lawrence, and aid in protecting them against the english. thus in the wisconsin forests, when the end came, there were left no frenchmen of importance. leaving their indian friends, and many of them their indian wives and half-breed families, they had obeyed the far away summons, and several lost their lives in the great battle or in the skirmishes which preceded it. the others, who at last returned, were quick to show favor to the english, for little they really cared who were their political masters so long as they were let alone. the indians, too, although personally they preferred the french to the english, were glad enough to see the latter, because they brought better prices for furs. wisconsin was so far away that it took a long time for british soldiers to reach the deserted and tumbledown fort at green bay. about the middle of october, , there arrived from mackinac lieutenant james gorrell and seventeen men to hold all of this country for king george. the station had been called by the french fort st. francis, but the name was now changed to fort edward augustus. it was a very lonely and dismal winter for the british soldiers, for nearly all the neighboring savages were away on their winter hunt and did not return until spring. mackinac, then a poor little trading village, was two hundred forty miles away; there was a trading post at st. josephs on the southeast shore of lake michigan, four hundred miles distant; and the nearest french villages on the mississippi were eight hundred miles of canoe journey to the southwest. all between was savagery: here and there a squalid indian village, with its conical wigwams of bark or matted reeds, pitched on the shore of a lake, at the foot of a portage trail, or on the banks of a forest stream. now and then a french trading party passed along the frozen trails, following the natives on the hunt and poisoning their minds against the newcomers, who were struggling to make their poor old stockade a fairly decent shelter against the winter storms. but, when the savages returned to green bay in the spring, they met with fair words from gorrell, a plentiful distribution of presents, and good prices for furs, and their hearts were won. in occurred the great uprising led by pontiac against the english in the northwest, during which the garrison at mackinac was massacred. this disturbed the friendship of gorrell's neighbors, with the exception of a menominee band, headed by chief ogemaunee; and in june of that year the little garrison, together with the english traders at green bay, found it necessary to leave hastily for cross village, on the eastern shore of lake michigan, escorted by ogemaunee and ninety painted menominees, who had volunteered to protect these englishmen from the unfriendly indians. at cross village were several soldiers who had escaped from mackinac, and the two parties and their escorts soon left in canoes for montreal, by the way of ottawa river. this old fur trade route was followed in order to escape pontiac's indians, who controlled the country about detroit and along the lower lake. they arrived safely at their destination in august. the following year there was held a great council at niagara, presided over by the famous sir william johnson, who was then serving as british superintendent for the northern indians. at this council ogemaunee was present representing the menominees of wisconsin. in token of his valuable services in escorting lieutenant gorrell's party to montreal, and thereby delivering them safely from the great danger which threatened, ogemaunee was given a certificate, which reads as follows:-- [illustration: [seal of wax] by the honourable sir william johnson baronet, his majesty's sole agent and superintendent of the affairs of the northern indians of north america, colony of the six united nations their allies and dependants &c. &c. &c. to ogemawnee a chief of the menomings nation: whereas i have received from the officers who commanded the out posts as well as from other persons an account of your good behaviour last year in protecting the officers, soldiers &c. of the garrison of la bay, and in escorting them down to montreal as also the effects of the traders to a large amount, and your having likewise entered into the strongest engagements of friendship with the english before me at this place. i do therefore give you this testimony of my esteem for your services and good behaviour. given under my hand & seal at arms at niagara the first day of august . wm. johnson.] this piece of paper, which showed that he was a good friend of the english, was of almost as great importance to ogemaunee as a patent of nobility in the old world. he carried it with him back to wisconsin, and it remained in his family from one generation to another, for fully a hundred years. one day a blanketed and painted descendant of ogemaunee presented it to an american officer who visited his wigwam. this descendant, doubtless, knew little of its meaning, but it had been used in his family as a charm for bringing good luck, and in his admiration for this kind officer he gave it to him, for the indian is, by nature, grateful and generous. in the course of years the paper was presented to the state historical society, by which it is preserved as an interesting and suggestive relic of those early days of the english occupation of wisconsin. wisconsin in the revolutionary war we ordinarily think of the revolutionary war as having been fought wholly upon the atlantic slope. as a matter of fact, there were enacted west of the alleghanies, during that great struggle, deeds which proved of immense importance to the welfare of the united states. had it not been for the capture from the british of the country northwest of the ohio river by the gallant virginia colonel, george rogers clark, it is fair to assume that the old northwest, as it came to be called, the present states of ohio, indiana, illinois, michigan, and wisconsin, would to-day be a part of the dominion of canada. after the brief flurry of the pontiac conspiracy ( ), the indians of the old northwest became good friends of the british, whose aim was to encourage the fur trade and to keep the savages good-natured. the english have always been more successful in their treatment of indians than have americans; they are more generous with them, and while not less firm than we, they are more considerate of savage wants. the french and the half-breeds, too, were very soon the warm supporters of british policy, because english fur trade companies gave them abundant employment, and evinced no desire other than to foster the primitive conditions under which the fur trade prospered. the english were not desirous of settling the western wilderness with farmers, thereby driving out the game. our people, however, have always been of a land-grabbing temper; we have sought to beat down the walls of savagery, to push settlement, to cut down the forests, to plow the land, to drive the indian out. this meant the death of the fur trade; hence it is small wonder that, when the revolutionary war broke out, the french and indians of the northwest upheld the british and opposed the americans. a number of scattered white settlers and a few small villages had appeared along the ohio river and many of its southern tributaries. in kentucky there were several log forts, around each of which were grouped the rude cabins of frontiersmen, who were half farmers and half hunters, tall, stalwart fellows, as courageous as lions, and ever on the alert for the crouching indian foe, who came when least expected. the country northwest of the ohio river was then a part of the british province of quebec. here and there in this old northwest, as we now call it, were small villages of french and half-breed fur traders, each village protected by a little log fort; some of these villages were garrisoned by a handful of british soldiers, and others only by french canadians who were friendly to the english. such were vincennes, in what is now indiana; kaskaskia and cahokia, in the illinois country; prairie du chien and green bay, in wisconsin; and mackinac island and detroit, in michigan. detroit was the headquarters, where lived the british lieutenant governor of the northwest, henry hamilton, a bold, brave, untiring, unscrupulous man. hamilton's chief business was to gather about him the indians of the northwest, and to excite in them hatred of the american settlers in kentucky. in , war parties sent out by him from detroit, under cover of the forts of vincennes, kaskaskia, and cahokia, swept kentucky from end to end, and the whole american frontier was the scene of a frightful panic. the american backwoodsmen were ambushed, many of the blockhouse posts were burned, prisoners were subjected to nameless horrors, and it seemed as if pandemonium had broken loose. by the close of the year, such had been the rush of settlers back to their old homes, east of the mountains, that but five or six hundred frontiersmen remained in all kentucky. had the british and the indians succeeded in driving back all of the settlers, they would have held the whole interior of the continent, and the american republic might never have been permitted to grow beyond the alleghanies and the blue ridge; hemmed in to the atlantic slope, this could never have become the great nation it is to-day. prominent among the defenders of kentucky in was george rogers clark. he was but twenty-five years of age, had come from a good family in virginia, and had a fair education for that day, but had been a wood rover from childhood. he was tall and commanding in person, a great hunter, and a backwoods land surveyor, such as washington was. with chain and compass, ax and rifle, he had, in the employ of land speculators, wandered far and wide through the border region, knowing its trails, its forts, its mountain passes, and its aborigines better than he knew his books. associated with him were boone, benjamin logan, and others who were prominent among american border heroes. clark saw that the best way to defend kentucky was to strike the enemy in their own country. gaining permission from patrick henry, governor of virginia, for kentucky was then but a county of virginia, and obtaining some small assistance in money, he raised, in , a little army of a hundred fifty backwoodsmen, clad in buckskin and homespun, who came from the hunters' camps of the alleghanies. the men collected at pittsburg and wheeling, and in flatboats cautiously descended the ohio to the falls, where is now the city of louisville. here, on an island, they built a fort as a military base, and the strongest of the party pushed on down the river to the abandoned old french fort massac, ten miles below the mouth of the tennessee, from which they marched overland, for a hundred twenty miles, to kaskaskia in western illinois. capturing kaskaskia by surprise (july ), and soon gaining the good will of the french there, clark sent out messengers who easily won over the neighboring cahokia; and very soon even vincennes, on the wabash river, sent in its submission. it was not long before hamilton, at detroit, heard the humiliating news. he at once sent out two french agents, charles de langlade and charles gautier, of green bay, to raise a large war party of wisconsin indians. they succeeded so well, that hamilton set out from detroit in october, to retake vincennes. his force consisted of nearly two hundred whites (chiefly french) and three hundred indians. such were the obstacles to overcome in an unbroken wilderness, that he was seventy-one days in reaching his destination. clark had left but two of his soldiers at vincennes, and as their french allies at once surrendered, there was nothing to do but to give up the place. now came one of the most stirring deeds in our western history. clark, at kaskaskia, soon learned of the loss of vincennes; at the same time, it was told him that the greater part of hamilton's expedition had disbanded for the winter, the lieutenant governor intending to launch a still larger war party against him in the spring. thereupon clark determined not to await an attack, but himself to make an attack on hamilton, who had remained in charge of vincennes. the distance across country, from kaskaskia to vincennes, is about two hundred thirty miles. in summer it was a delightful region of alternating groves and prairies; in the dead of winter, it would afford fair traveling over the frozen plains and ice-bound rivers; but now, in february ( ), the weather had moderated, and great freshets had flooded the lowlands and meadows. the ground was boggy, and progress was slow and difficult; there were no tents, and the floods had driven away much of the game; and clark and his officers were often taxed to their wits' ends to devise methods for keeping their hard-worked men in good spirits. often they were obliged to wade in the icy water, for miles together, and to sleep at night in soaked clothes upon little brush-strewn hillocks, shivering with cold, and without food or fire. but at last, after nearly three weeks of almost superhuman exertion and indescribable misery, vincennes was reached. the british garrison was taken by surprise, but held out with obstinacy, and throughout the long moonlight night the battle raged with much fury. the log fort was on the top of a hill overlooking the little town; it was armed with several small cannon, but clark's men had only their muskets. they were, however, served freely with ammunition by the french villagers; and, being expert marksmen, could hit the gunners by firing through the loopholes, so that by sunrise the garrison was sadly crippled. the fight continued throughout the following morning, and in the afternoon the british ran up the white flag. hamilton and twenty-six of his fellows were sent as prisoners overland to virginia. clark remained as master of the northwest until the close of the revolutionary war. the fact that the flag of the republic waved over vincennes, kaskaskia, and cahokia when the war ended, had much to do with the decision of the peace commissioners to allow the united states to retain the country lying between the ohio and mississippi rivers and the great lakes. during the revolution, none of the forts in wisconsin were occupied by british soldiers, and they were allowed to tumble into decay. wisconsin was, however, used as a recruiting ground for indian allies. not only did langlade and gautier raise a war party of wisconsin indians to help hamilton in his expedition against vincennes, but they were frequently in wisconsin on similar business during the war. in gautier led a party of wisconsin indians to peoria, in the illinois country, where there was an old french fort which, it was thought, might fall into the hands of the americans. gautier burned this fort, and then hastily retreated because he found that clark was making friends with all the illinois indians. clark's agents traded as far north as portage, in wisconsin. at prairie du chien they induced linctot, a famous french fur trader, to join the americans. linctot put himself at the head of a party of five hundred french and half-breed horsemen, who were of much assistance to clark in his various movements after the capture of vincennes. meanwhile another large party, chiefly of indians, assembled at prairie du chien in the british cause, led by three french traders, hesse, du charme, and calvé. they raided the upper mississippi valley, capturing provisions intended for the americans, and making a futile attack on the spanish village of st. louis, which was thought to be assisting clark. despite these military operations in wisconsin, the english fur trade continued in full strength, with headquarters upon the island of mackinac, but with french agents and boatmen, whose principal dwelling places were at green bay and prairie du chien. upon lake superior large canoes and bateaux were used; but upon lake michigan were three small sloops, the _welcome_, the _felicity_, and the _archangel_, which carried supplies and furs for the traders, and made frequent cruises to see that the "bostonians," as the french used to call the americans, obtained no foothold upon the shore of the lake. just before the close of the war, the british commander at mackinac island, captain patrick sinclair, held a council with the indians, and for a small sum purchased for himself their claims to that island and to nearly all of the land now comprising wisconsin. but the treaty of , between the british and the americans, did not recognize this purchase, and sinclair found that he was no longer the owner of wisconsin. it had become, largely through the valor of clark, and the persistence of our treaty commissioners, a part of the territory of the united states. the rule of judge rÉaume by the treaty of peace with great britain, in , the country northwest of the ohio river was declared to be a part of the territory of the united states; but it was many years before the americans had anything more than a nominal control of wisconsin, which was a part of this northwestern region. the united states was at first unable to meet all of its obligations under this treaty; hence great britain kept possession of the old fur trade posts on the upper lakes, including mackinac, of which wisconsin was a "dependency." a british garrison was kept at mackinac, thus controlling the fur trade of this district, but no troops were deemed necessary within wisconsin itself. to the few white inhabitants of the small fur trade villages of green bay and prairie du chien, there was slight evidence of any of these various changes in political ownership. beyond the brief stay among them of lieutenant gorrell and his little band of redcoats, in the years - , the french and half-breeds of wisconsin led much the same life as of old. in , an english fur trader, john long, passed up the fox river and down the wisconsin, and bought up a great many furs in this region. some years later he wrote a book about his travels, and from this we get a very good idea of life among the french and indians of the northwest. long was at green bay for several days, and tells us that the houses there were covered with birch bark, and the rooms were decorated with bows and arrows, guns, and spears. there were in the village not over fifty whites, divided into six or seven families. the men were for the most part engaged as assistants to the two or three leading traders; they spent their winters in the woods, picking up furs at the indian camps, and in summer cultivated their narrow strips of gardens which ran down to the river's edge. it mattered little to them who was their political master, so long as they were left to enjoy their simple lives in their own fashion. to this primitive community there came one day, in , a portly, pompous, bald headed little frenchman, named charles réaume. wisconsin was then a part of indiana territory, of which william henry harrison was governor. it was for the most part a wilderness; dense woods and tenantless prairies extended all the way from the narrow clearing at green bay to the little settlement at prairie du chien. there were small clearings at portage, milwaukee, and one or two other fur trading posts. there was no civil government here, and the few white people in all this vast stretch of country practically made their own laws, each man being judge and jury for himself, so long as he did not interfere with other people's rights. réaume bore a commission from governor harrison, appointing him justice of the peace at green bay, which meant nearly all of the country west of lake michigan. thus "judge réaume," as he was called, was the only civil officer in wisconsin, and although apparently never reappointed, he retained this distinction by popular consent until after the war of - ; indeed, for several years after that, he was the principal officer of justice in these parts. the judge was a good-hearted man, when one penetrated beneath the crust of official pomposity with which he was generally enveloped. he appears to have owned a volume of blackstone, but the only law he understood or practiced was the old "law of paris," which had governed canada from the earliest time, and which still rules in the province of quebec, and it is related that he knew little of that. his decisions were arbitrary, but were generally based on the right as he saw it, quite regardless of the technicalities of the law. a great many queer stories are told of old judge réaume. he loved display after his simple fashion, and invented for himself an official uniform, which he wore on all public occasions. this consisted of a scarlet frock coat faced with white silk, and gay with spangled buttons; it can still be seen in the museum of the state historical society. he issued few warrants or subpoenas; it is told of him that whenever he wanted a person to appear before him, either as witness or principal, he sent to that person the constable, bearing his honor's well-known large jackknife, which was quite as effectual as the king's signet ring of olden days. quite often did he adjudge guilty both complainant and defendant, obliging them both to pay a fine, or to work so many days in his garden; and sometimes both were acquitted, the constable being ordered to pay the costs. it is even said that the present of a bottle of whisky to the judge was sufficient to insure a favorable decision. the story is told that once, when the judge had actually rendered a decision in a certain case, the person decided against presented the court with a new coffee-pot, whereupon the judgment was reversed. there may be some exaggeration in these tales of the earliest judge in wisconsin, but they appear to be in the main substantiated. nevertheless, although there doubtless was some grumbling, it speaks well for the old justice of the peace, and for the orderly good nature of this little french community without a jail, that no one appears ever to have questioned the legality of réaume's decisions. these were strictly abided by, and although he was never reappointed, he held office under both american and british sway, simply because no one was sent to succeed him. not only was réaume wisconsin's judge and jury during the first two decades of the nineteenth century, but as there was, during much of his time, no priest hereabouts, he drew up marriage contracts, and married and divorced people at will, issued baptismal certificates, and kept a registry of births and deaths. he certified alike to british and american military commissions; drew up contracts between the fur traders and their employees; wrote letters for the _habitants_; and performed for the settlers all those functions of church and state for which we now require a long list of officials and professional men. he was a picturesque and important functionary, illustrating in his person the simple fashions and modest desires of the french who first settled this state. we are now a wealthier people, but certainly there have never been happier times in wisconsin, all things considered, than in the primitive days of old judge réaume and his official jackknife. the british capture prairie du chien although the northwest was obtained for the united states by the treaty with great britain in , the fur trade posts on the upper great lakes were openly held by the mother country until the new republic could fully meet its financial obligations to her. after thirteen years, a new treaty ( ) officially recognized american supremacy. nevertheless, for another thirteen years english fur traders were practically in possession of wisconsin, operating through french canadian and half-breed agents, clerks, and _voyageurs_, until john jacob astor ( ) organized the american fur company, and english fur traders were forbidden to operate here. the military officers in canada were firmly convinced that the americans could not long hold the northwest. they believed that some day there would be another war, and the country would once more become the property of great britain. therefore they sought to keep on good terms with our indians and french, giving them presents and employment. thus, when our second war with great britain did break out, in , nearly all the people living in wisconsin, and elsewhere in the wild northern parts of the northwest, were strong friends of the british cause. to them the issue was very clear. british victory meant the perpetuation of old times and old methods, so dear to them and to their ancestors before them. american victory meant the cutting down of the forests, the death knell of the fur trade, and the coming of a swarm of strange people, heretofore almost unknown to wisconsin. these people had been described to them as an uneasy, selfish, land grabbing folk, who knew not how to enjoy themselves, and were for turning the world upside down with their yankee notions. naturally, the easy-going, comfort loving wisconsin french looked upon their coming with great alarm. the principal event of the war in wisconsin was the capture of prairie du chien by the british, in . wisconsin was then a part of illinois territory, and west of the mississippi river lay the enormous missouri territory. general william clark, a younger brother of george rogers clark, was governor of missouri territory, and had in charge the conduct of military operations along the upper mississippi river. governor clark had heard that the british, by this time strongly intrenched on mackinac island, intended to send an expedition up the fox river and down the wisconsin, to seize upon prairie du chien, which had not been fortified since the old french days. clark recognized that the power that held prairie du chien practically held the entire upper mississippi river, and controlled the indians and the fur trade of a vast region. accordingly, early in june ( ) he ascended the river from his headquarters at st. louis, with three hundred men in six or eight large boats, including a bullet-proof keel boat, and erected a stockade on the summit of a large indian mound which lay on the bank of the mississippi a mile or two above the mouth of the wisconsin. the name given to this stockade was fort shelby. lieutenant joseph perkins was left in charge of the garrison, which was divided between the fort and the keel boat, the latter being anchored out in the mississippi. the british expedition from mackinac had been greatly delayed. during the preceding autumn, robert dickson, an english fur trader, had been engaged in recruiting a large band of indians in the neighborhood of green bay, and with them intended to occupy prairie du chien. but the indians were evidently afraid to fight the americans, and delayed dickson so that the canoes of his party were caught in the ice on lake winnebago (december, ), and he was obliged to go into winter quarters on island park (known to the white pioneers as garlic island). poor dickson had a sorry time with his war party. as soon as it was learned that provisions were being freely given out at this island camp, indians from long distances came to visit him, under pretense of enlisting under the banner of the british chief. councils innumerable were held, presents and food had to be given the visitors continually, and dickson was put to sore straits to keep them satisfied. he found it impossible to get sufficient supplies from british headquarters on mackinac island, and was being severely criticised by the officers there, for his exorbitant demands upon them. nevertheless, unless he kept his indians good-natured, they would promptly desert him. he was, therefore, forced to rely upon the french of green bay for what food he needed. this came grudgingly, and at so high prices that dickson roundly scolded the green bay people, and promised to report them for punishment to the british king, for daring to take advantage of his majesty's necessities. while dickson was thus engaged in lake winnebago, a british captain was drilling a number of young frenchmen at green bay, and trying to make soldiers of them; at mackinac, a similar work was being done among the _voyageurs_ by the two leading fur traders of prairie du chien, brisbois and rolette. on the other hand, at prairie du chien, the american indian agent, boilvin, was issuing circulars calling on the people to claim american protection before it was too late. late in june the leaders of the expedition started from mackinac, under the command of major william mckay, and at green bay, lake winnebago, and portage picked up various parties of french and indians. these bands were much reduced from those who had been so liberally maintained during the winter, for most of the indians were anxious to keep away from the fighting until it should be evident which side would win, and many of the french were of the same mind. by the time fox river had been ascended by the fleet of canoes, and the descent of the wisconsin begun, the allied forces consisted of but a hundred twenty whites and four hundred fifty indians. all of the latter, according to mckay's report, proved "perfectly useless." on the th of july, the british war party landed at prairie du chien, to find the americans, some sixty or seventy strong, protected by a stockade and two blockhouses, on which were mounted six small cannon. in the river, the keel boat contained perhaps seventy-five men and fourteen cannon. the british had, besides their muskets, only a three-pounder, and the situation did not look promising. perkins was summoned to surrender, but he declared that he would "defend to the last man." for two days there was a rather lively discharge of firearms on both sides. apparently, the british were the better gunners; their cannonading soon forced the men on the keel boat to desert their comrades on shore, and mckay then centered his attention on the fort. the indians were unruly, being principally engaged in plundering the frenchmen's houses in the village. the british supply of ammunition had quite run out by the evening of the th, and mckay was seriously contemplating a retreat, when he was surprised to see a white flag put out by the garrison. it appears that the stock of food had become exhausted in the fort, and perkins had formed an exaggerated idea of the strength of the invaders. the british guaranteed that the americans should march out of fort shelby at eight o'clock in the morning of the th, with colors flying and with the honors of war, and that the indians should be prevented from maltreating them. this last agreement mckay found it very difficult to carry out, for the savages wished, as usual, to massacre the prisoners. to the honor of the british, it should be recorded that they exercised great vigilance, and spared neither supplications nor threats, to insure the safety of their prisoners, whom they soon sent down the river to the american post at st. louis. when the british flag was run up on the stockade, the name was changed to fort mckay, in honor of the british leader. during the long autumn and succeeding winter, the british experienced their old difficulties with the indian allies. the warriors sacked the houses of the french settlers, all over the prairie, and destroyed crops and supplies. council after council was held at fort mckay, and large bands of lazy, quarrelsome savages, encamped about the fort, were fed and were loaded with presents; altogether, the occupation of wisconsin proved an expensive luxury. it was no doubt with some relief that the british garrison at last learned, late in may , of the treaty of peace signed on the previous th of december, and made arrangements to withdraw up the wisconsin and down the fox, and across the great lake to mackinac. in point of fact, the withdrawal of captain bulger, at that time in charge of fort mckay, was in reality a hasty and undignified retreat from his own allies. the indians had learned with amazement that the british palefaces were going to surrender to the american palefaces, without showing fight, and simply because somewhere, far away in another part of the world, some other palefaces, whom these englishmen had never even seen, had held a peace council and buried the hatchet. this sort of thing could not be understood by the savages encamped outside the walls of fort mckay, save as an evidence of rank cowardice. they called the redcoats a lot of "old women," became insolent, and even threatened them. captain bulger saw that it would not do to await the arrival of the american troops from st. louis, so he sent an indian messenger with a letter to the american commander, telling him to help himself to everything in fort mckay. then, only forty-eight hours after the arrival of the peace news, he pulled down his flag and hurried home as fast as he could, fearful all the way that an indian war party might be at his heels. thus ignominiously ended the last british occupation of wisconsin. the story of the wisconsin lead mines it was the fur trade that first brought white men to wisconsin. the daring nicolet pushed his way through the wilderness, a thousand miles west of the little french settlement at quebec, solely to introduce the traffic in furs to our savages, and others were not long in following him. soon it was learned that there were lead mines in what is now southwest wisconsin. it is not probable that the aborigines, before the coming of white men, made any other use of lead than from it to fashion a few rude ornaments. but the french at once recognized the great value of this mineral, in connection with the fur trade. they taught the indians how to mine it in a crude fashion, and to make it into bullets for the guns which they introduced among them. the french traders themselves mined a good deal of it for their own use, and shipped it in their canoes to other parts of the west, where there were no lead mines, but where both white men and indians needed bullets. for in a remarkably short period nearly all the indians had turned from their old pursuits of raising maize and pumpkins, and killing just enough game with slings and arrows to supply themselves with skins for their clothing and flesh for their food. they had now become persistent hunters for skins, which they might exchange with white men for european-made guns, ammunition, kettles, spears, cloths, and ornaments. some of the indians in the neighborhood of the lead mines found it more profitable to mine lead for other hunters, than to hunt; hence we find that, at an early date, the mines came to be regarded as the particular property of the indians, a fact which had considerable influence upon the history of the region. with the french, most of our wisconsin indians were quite friendly. the french were kind and obliging, often married and settled among them, and had no thought of driving them away. they throve upon the fur trade with the indians, and in general did not care to become farmers. the english and the americans, on the contrary, felt a contempt for the savages, and did not disguise it; the aim of the americans, in particular, was gradually to clear the forest, to make farms, and to build villages. in the american scheme of civilization the indian had no part. therefore we find that frenchmen were quite free to work the lead mines in company with the savages; but the anglo-saxons, when they arrived on the scene, were obliged to fight for this right. in the end they banished the indians from the "diggings." marquette and joliet had heard of the lead mines, and of the frenchmen working at them, when they made their famous canoe trip through wisconsin, in . through the rest of the seventeenth century, wherever we pick up any french books of travel in these regions, or any maps of the upper mississippi country, we are sure to find frequent, though rather vague, mention of the lead mines. the first official exploration of them appears to have been made in by le sueur, the french military commandant at chequamegon bay, on lake superior. he was so impressed by the "mines of lead, copper, and blue and green earth" which he found all along the banks of the upper mississippi, that he went to france to tell the king about his great discoveries, and seek permission to work them. it was forbidden to do anything in new france without the consent of the great french king, although the free and independent fur traders did very much as they pleased out here in the wilderness. but le sueur was a soldier, and had to ask permission. obtaining it, he returned at great expense with thirty miners, who proceeded up the mississippi from new orleans; but somehow nothing came of these extensive preparations. several french speculators, in succeeding years, thought to make money out of supposed mines of gold, silver, lead, and copper along the upper waters of the mississippi. some of them came over from france with bands of miners and little companies of soldiers to guard them; but, like le sueur, they spent most of their time and money in exploration, not content with those lead mines that were well known to exist, and invariably left the country in disgust, their money and patience exhausted. now and then a more practical man came quietly upon the scene, and seemed well satisfied with lead when he could not find gold; most of such miners were french, but a few were spanish, for spain then owned all the country lying westward of the mississippi river. occasionally the french commandant at mackinac or detroit would come to the mines, and with the aid of his soldiers and the indians, get out a considerable quantity of the ore, and take it home with him in his fleet of canoes; or a fur trader would do the same, for the purposes of his own trade with the savages. the little french village of ste. geneviève, near st. louis, had become, by the opening of our revolutionary war, a considerable lead market, from which shipments were made in flatboats and bateaux down the mississippi to new orleans, or up the ohio to pittsburg. lead was, next to peltries, the most important export of the upper mississippi region, and throughout the west served as currency. during the revolutionary war, the british were at first in command of the upper reaches of the great river, and guarded jealously the approach to the lead mines, for bullets were necessary to the success of the fast growing kentucky settlements; american military operations against the little british garrisons at vincennes, kaskaskia, cahokia, and detroit would be powerless without lead. gradually the influence of the american fur trade grew among the indians, and it was not long before the americans in the west were able to obtain through them all the lead they wanted. toward the close of the war, julien dubuque, a very energetic french miner, bought up large claims from the spaniards, in missouri and iowa, and for about a quarter of a century was the principal man in the lead region. he was remarkably successful in dealing with the indians, whom he employed to do the principal work. his mining and trading operations were not confined to the spanish side of the river, but were carried on in american territory as well, and his influence with the savages for a time prevented american miners and fur traders from obtaining a foothold. when at last ( ) the united states obtained possession of the lands west of the mississippi, numerous enterprising americans forced their way into the lead district. they managed to mine a good deal of the metal, here and there, but frequently met with armed opposition from the indians. it was fifteen years before the americans equaled the french canadians in number. in , the indian claims to the mining country having at last been purchased by the federal government, there was a general inrush of americans. among the earliest and most prominent of these was james w. shull, the founder of shullsburg, in iowa county. another man of note was colonel james johnson, of kentucky, who brought negro slaves into the region, to do his heaviest labor, and maintained a fleet of flatboats to carry lead ore from galena river to st. louis, new orleans, and pittsburg. at first the operations of johnson, shull, and others had to be carried on under military protection; for the indians, although they had sold their claims, persisted in annoying the newcomers, being urged on by the french miners and traders who were still numerous in the mining country. but so soon as the news spread that a large trade in lead was fast springing up, other americans began to pour in; mining claims were entered in great numbers, a federal land office was opened, and by two thousand men, including negro slaves brought in by kentucky and missouri operators, were engaged in and about the mines. the following year the town of galena was founded, and in there was a stampede thither. henceforth, for many years, the lead trade of southwestern wisconsin, northwestern illinois, and parts of missouri and iowa was the chief interest in the west. by this time the fur trade had almost died out, and the old french canadian element had become but a small proportion of the population of the mississippi valley. in those days, galena, mineral point, and other lead mining towns were of much more importance than chicago or milwaukee, and their citizens entertained high hopes of the future. the lead trade with st. louis and new orleans was very large; but the east also wanted the lead, and the air was filled with projects to secure routes by which lead might be carried to vessels plying on the great lakes, which could transport it to buffalo and other far away ports. for a time the most popular of these projects was the old fur trade route of the wisconsin and fox rivers. a canal was dug along the famous carrying trail at portage, and the federal government was induced to deepen fox river, which is naturally very shallow, and to attempt to create a permanent channel in the wisconsin river. but, although much money has been spent on these schemes, from that day to this, the fox-wisconsin route is still impracticable save to boats of exceptionally light draft; and in our time the project of connecting the mississippi river with lake michigan, by the way of portage and green bay, is almost wholly abandoned. another scheme was the proposed milwaukee and rock river canal, by which milwaukee was to be connected with the rock river, which joins the mississippi at rock island; but this plan died a still earlier death. it was the struggle to connect the port of milwaukee with the lead region that finally led to the building of the railroad between that city and prairie du chien. more immediately effective for the benefit of the lead trade, was the opening of a wagon road from the lead mining towns, through madison, to milwaukee, along which great canvas-covered caravans of ore-laden "prairie schooners" toiled slowly from the mines to the lake michigan docks, a distance of about a hundred and fifty miles. other roads led to galena and prairie du chien, where the mississippi river boats awaited similar fleets of "schooners" from the interior. a good deal of the lead was sent by similar conveyances to helena, a little village on the wisconsin river, where a shot tower had been built against the face of a high cliff; from here, shallow-draft boats took the shot to green bay, by way of the portage canal and fox river, or descended the wisconsin to prairie du chien. from various causes, the lead trade of the upper mississippi region had sadly declined by . among these causes was the finding of gold in california ( ), which attracted large numbers of the miners to a more profitable field; again, the surface or shallow diggings having been exhausted, much more capital was required to operate in the lower levels; more serious was the lack of sufficient transportation facilities, and these did not come until the great silver mines of the rocky mountains had been opened, lead being thenceforth more profitably produced in connection with silver. the effect of the lead industry upon the development of wisconsin was important. many years before farmers would naturally have sought southern wisconsin in their pushing westward for fresh lands, the opening of the mines brought thither a large and energetic industrial population, and a considerable capital, and awakened popular interest in land and water transportation routes. the winnebago war the world over, white men, representing a higher type of civilization, have wrested, or are still wresting, the land from the original savage occupants. this seems to be inevitable. it is one of the means by which civilization is being extended over the entire globe. we glory in the progress of civilization; but we are apt to ignore the hardship which this brings to the aborigines. while not relaxing our endeavor to plant the world with progressive men who shall make the most of life, we should see to it that the savage races are pushed to the wall with as kindly and forbearing a hand as possible; that we apply to them humane methods, and give them credit for possessing the sentiments of men who, like us, dearly love their old homes, and are willing to fight for them. these sentiments have certainly not often been applied in the past, by our anglo-saxon race, to the indians of north america. we have failed to appreciate that the indian, in being driven from his lands, has retaliated from motives of patriotism. his methods of fighting are often cruel and treacherous; but it must be remembered that he is in a stage of development akin to that of the child, and that white men upon the frontier have often been quite as cruel and treacherous toward the indian as he was toward them, for such are ever the methods of the weak and the primitive. the indian is blamed for his custom of wreaking vengeance upon all white men, when but an individual has injured him; yet, on the border, it has always been seen that white men have retaliated on the indians in exactly the same spirit. "the only good indian is a dead indian," has been their motto, the offense of one indian being considered the offense of all. our dealings with the red men, both as individuals and as a nation, have, for over a hundred years, often been such as we should blush for. we are doing better now than formerly; but our treatment of the weak and unfortunate aborigines is still far from being to our credit. the story of the winnebago war, in wisconsin, is illustrative of the old-time method of treating our barbaric predecessors. no doubt it would have been better if the united states had, from the first, held all the indians to be subjects, and forced them to obey our laws. but the tribes were considered in theory to be distinct nations, over whom we exercised supervision, and with whom we held treaties. this at first seemed necessary, owing to the patriarchal system among the indians, by which heads of families or clans are supposed to control the younger members, all affairs being decided upon in councils, in which these wise old men participate. it was thought that, through the chiefs, binding agreements could be made with entire tribes. it was not then generally understood that each indian is, according to the customs of those people, really a law unto himself; that the chiefs, in signing a treaty, are seldom representative in the sense that we use the word, and that they generally represent no one but themselves; that the only way in which they can commit their tribes is through the respect or fear which they may foster in the minds of their followers. in the month of august, , when wisconsin was still a part of michigan territory, there was a treaty signed at prairie du chien between the united states and the indians of what are now illinois, wisconsin, and minnesota. the treaty set boundaries between the quarrelsome tribes, and agreed on a general peace upon the border. like most indian treaties, this document was drawn up by the officers of the general government; and the chiefs, knowing little of its contents, were simply invited to sign their names to it. they signed as requested, but went home in bad temper, because the american commissioners would not make them costly presents of guns, ammunition, beads, hatchets, cloths, and rum, as the british in canada always did; and the savages were not even allowed to celebrate the treaty by a roistering feast. the americans, from their cold, businesslike conduct, impressed the indians as being "stingy old women." nobody on the frontier, the following winter, seemed to pay the slightest attention to the terms of the treaty. the sioux, who lived west of the mississippi, the winnebagoes in southern and western wisconsin, and the chippewas in the north, quarreled with one another and scalped one another as freely as ever; while french traders, in british employ, stirred up the red men, and told them that great britain would soon have the whole country back again. the winnebagoes, in particular, were irritated because two of their braves had been imprisoned for thieving, at fort crawford, in prairie du chien. they held numerous councils in the woods, and resolved to stand by the british when the war should break out. in the midst of this uneasiness, the troops at fort crawford were suddenly withdrawn to fort snelling, on the upper mississippi river, near where st. paul now is. this was supposed by the indians to mean that the american soldiers were afraid of them. the spring of arrived. a half-breed named methode was making maple sugar upon the yellow river, in iowa, a dozen miles north of prairie du chien. with him were his wife and five children; all were set upon by some winnebagoes and killed, scalped, and burned. naturally there was an uproar all along the upper mississippi. excitement was at its height, when word was brought in by sioux visitors to the village of red bird, a petty winnebago chief, that the two men of his tribe who had been imprisoned in fort crawford had been hung when the troops reached fort snelling. the wily sioux suggested vengeance. the winnebago code was two lives for one. inflamed with rage, red bird set out at once upon the warpath to take four white scalps. meanwhile the clouds were gathering for a general storm. the american indian agent at prairie du chien, with singular indiscretion, was not treating his winnebago visitors with kindness. english and french fur traders were, on behalf of great britain, making liberal promises for the future. winnebagoes were being brutally driven from the lead mines by the white miners, who were now swarming into southwest wisconsin. the sioux along the west bank of the mississippi, in minnesota, were encouraging the winnebagoes to revolt; and were displaying a bad temper toward americans, whom they thought cowardly because apparently unwilling to use military force to keep the indians in order. one day in june, red bird, a friend named wekau, and two other winnebagoes, appeared at the door of a log cabin owned by registre gagnier, a french settler living on the edge of prairie du chien village. gagnier was an old friend of red bird, and invited the four indians in to take dinner with him and his family. for several hours the guests stayed, eating and smoking in apparent good humor, until at last their chance came. gagnier and his serving man, lipcap, were instantly shot down; an infant of eighteen months was torn from the arms of madame gagnier, stabbed and scalped before her eyes, and thrown to the floor as dead; but the woman herself with her little boy, ten years of age, escaped to the woods and gave the alarm to the neighbors. the indians slunk into the forest and disappeared. the villagers buried gagnier and lipcap, and, finding the infant girl alive, restored her to her mother. curiously enough, the scalped child recovered and grew to robust womanhood. according to the winnebago code, four white scalps must be taken in return for the two indians supposed to have been killed at fort snelling. red bird had now secured three, those of gagnier, lipcap, and the infant; a fourth was necessary before he could properly return to his people in the capacity of an avenger, the proudest title which an indian can bear. how he obtained these scalps was, to the mind of his race, unimportant; the one idea was to get them. on the afternoon of the third day after the massacre, red bird and his friends were visiting at a camp of their people, near the mouth of the bad ax river, some forty miles north of prairie du chien. a drunken feast was in progress, in honor of the scalp taking, when two keel boats appeared on their way down the mississippi from fort snelling to st. louis. the sioux, at what is now winona, had threatened the crews, but had not attempted to harm them. the winnebagoes now appeared on the bank and raised the war whoop, but the crew of the foremost boat thought it only bluster, so in a spirit of bravado ran their craft toward shore. when it was within thirty yards of the bank, the indians, led by red bird, poured a volley of rifle balls into the boat. the crew were well armed, and, rushing below, answered by shooting through the portholes. the boat ran on a bar, and a sharp fire lasted through three hours, until dusk, when the craft was finally worked off the bar, and dropped downstream in the dark. although seven hundred bullets penetrated the hull, only two of the crew were killed outright, two others dying later from wounds, and two others were slightly wounded. the indians lost seven killed and fourteen wounded. the "battle of the keel boats" was the signal for military activity. in july a battalion of troops from fort snelling came down to prairie du chien; and a little later a full regiment from st. louis followed. general henry atkinson was in command, and early in august he ordered major william whistler, then in charge of fort howard, to proceed up fox river with a company of troops, in search of the fugitives red bird and wekau. at a council held with the winnebagoes, at butte des morts, the chiefs were notified that nothing short of the surrender of the leaders of the disturbance would satisfy the government for the attack on the boats; were they not delivered up, the entire tribe should be hunted like wild animals. great consternation prevailed among the tribesmen, as the runners sent out from the butte des morts council carried the terrible threat to all the camps of the winnebagoes, in the deep forests, in the pleasant oak groves, and upon the broad prairies throughout southern wisconsin. whistler had reached the ridge flanking the old portage trail between the fox and wisconsin rivers, but had not fully completed the arrangements of his camp when an indian runner appeared in hot haste, saying that red bird and wekau would surrender themselves at three o'clock in the afternoon of the following day, that the tribe might be saved. whistler and his officers, as true soldiers, were prompt to appreciate bravery. they were broad enough to judge these savages by the standards of savagery, not by those of a civilization from which the indian is removed by centuries of human progress. they knew full well that the culprits were but carrying out the law of their race in seeking white scalps in vengeance for the winnebagoes supposed to have been slain at fort snelling. whistler knew that the indians considered red bird and wekau as heroes, and could feel no pangs of conscience, because treachery toward enemies was the customary method of indian warfare. realizing these facts, the american officers recognized that it required a fine type of heroism on the part of these simple natives thus to offer themselves up to probable death, to redeem their tribe from destruction. for this reason the soldiers were brought out on parade; and when, prompt to the hour named, red bird and wekau, accompanied by a party of their friends, came marching into camp, clad in ceremonial dress, and singing their death songs, they were received with military honors. the native ceremony of surrender was highly impressive. red bird conducted himself with a dignity which won the admiration of all. wekau, on the contrary, was an indifferent looking fellow, and commanded little respect. red bird made but one request, that, although sentenced to death, he should not be placed in chains. this was granted; and while, during his subsequent imprisonment at prairie du chien, he had frequent opportunities to escape, he declined to take advantage of them. a few months later he fell an easy victim to an epidemic then raging in the village, thus relieving the government from embarrassment, for it was felt that he was altogether too good an indian to hang; indeed, his execution might have brought on a general border war. the murderers of methode were also apprehended and given a death sentence; but upon the winnebagoes promising to relinquish forever their hold upon the lead mines of southwestern wisconsin and northwestern illinois, president adams pardoned all the prisoners then living. the following year ( ), a fort was erected at the fox-wisconsin portage, near the scene of red bird's surrender; being in the heart of that tribe's territory, it was called fort winnebago. thereafter the winnebagoes were kept in entire subjection. indeed, the three forts, howard at green bay, winnebago at portage, and crawford at prairie du chien, now gave the united states, for the first time, firm grasp upon the whole of what is now wisconsin. the black hawk war in november, , the sac and fox indians, in return for a paltry annuity of a thousand dollars, ceded to the united states fifty million acres of land in eastern missouri, northwestern illinois, and southwestern wisconsin. there was an unfortunate clause in this compact, which quite unexpectedly became one of the chief causes of the black hawk war of ; instead of obliging the indians at once to vacate the ceded territory, it was stipulated that, "as long as the lands which are now ceded to the united states remain their property, the indians belonging to said tribes shall enjoy the privilege of living and hunting on them." within the limits of the cession was the chief seat of sac power, a village lying on the north side of rock river, three miles above its mouth. it was picturesquely situated on fertile ground, contained the principal cemetery of the tribe, and was inhabited by about five hundred families, being one of the largest indian towns on the continent. from the beginning of the nineteenth century, the principal character in this village was black hawk, who was born here in . black hawk was neither an hereditary nor an elected chief, but was, by common consent, the village headman. he was a restless, ambitious, handsome savage; was possessed of some of the qualities of successful leadership, was much of a demagogue, and aroused the passions of his people by appeals to their prejudices and superstitions. it is probable that he was never, in the exercise of this policy, dishonest in his motives. a too confiding disposition was ever leading his judgment astray; he was readily duped by those who, white or red, were interested in deceiving him. the effect of his daily communication with the americans was often to shock rudely his high sense of honor; while the studied courtesy accorded him upon his annual begging visit to the british military agent at malden, in canada, contrasted strangely, in his eyes, with his experiences with many of the inhabitants on the illinois border. [illustration: black hawk] at the outbreak of hostilities between great britain and the united states in , black hawk naturally allied himself with tecumseh and the british. after burying the hatchet, he settled down into the customary routine of savage life, hunting in winter and loafing about his village in summer, improvidently existing from hand to mouth, although surrounded with abundance. occasionally he varied the monotony by visits to malden, whence he would return laden with provisions, arms, ammunition, and trinkets, his stock of vanity increased by wily flattery, and his bitterness against the americans correspondingly intensified. it is not at all surprising that he hated the americans. they brought him naught but evil. the even tenor of his life was continually being disturbed by them; and a cruel and causeless beating which some white settlers gave him, in the winter of - , was an insult which he treasured up against the entire american people. in the summer of , squatters, covetous of the rich fields cultivated by the "british band," as black hawk's people were often called, began to take possession of them. the treaty of had guaranteed to the indians the use of the ceded territory so long as the lands remained the property of the united states and were not sold to individuals. the frontier line of homestead settlement was still fifty or sixty miles to the east; the country between had not yet been surveyed, and much of it not explored. the squatters had no rights in this territory, and it was clearly the duty of the general government to protect the indians within it so long as no sales were made. the sacs would not have complained had the squatters settled in other portions of the tract, and not sought to steal the village which was their birthplace and contained the cemetery of their tribe. there were outrages of the most flagrant nature. indian cornfields were fenced in by the intruders, squaws and children were whipped for venturing beyond the bounds thus set, lodges were burned over the heads of the occupants. a reign of terror ensued, in which the frequent remonstrances of black hawk to the white authorities were in vain. year by year the evil grew. when the indians returned each spring from the winter's hunt, they found their village more of a wreck than when they had left it in the fall. it is surprising, in view of their native love of revenge, that they acted so peaceably while the victims of such harsh treatment. returning to his village in the spring of , after a gloomy and profitless winter's hunt, black hawk was fiercely warned away by the whites; but, in a firm and dignified manner, he notified the settlers that, if they did not themselves remove, he should use force. this announcement was construed by the whites as a threat against their lives. petitions and messages were showered in by them upon governor john reynolds, of illinois, setting forth the situation in exaggerated terms that would be amusing, were it not that they were the prelude to one of the darkest tragedies in the history of our western border. the governor caught the spirit of the occasion, and at once issued a flaming proclamation calling out a mounted volunteer force to "repel the invasion of the british band." these volunteers, sixteen hundred strong, coöperated with ten companies of regulars in a demonstration before black hawk's village on the th of june. during that night the indians, in the face of this superior force, quietly withdrew to the west bank of the mississippi, whither they had previously been ordered. on the th they signed a treaty of capitulation and peace, solemnly agreeing never to return to the east side of the river without express permission of the united states government. the rest of the summer was spent by the evicted savages in a state of misery. it being now too late to raise another crop of corn and beans, they suffered for want of the actual necessaries of life. white cloud, the eloquent and crafty prophet of the winnebagoes, was black hawk's evil genius. he was half sac and half winnebago, a hater of the whites, an inveterate mischief maker, and, being a "medicine man," possessed much influence over both tribes. he was at the head of a winnebago village some thirty-five miles above the mouth of the rock, on the east side of the mississippi; and to this village he invited black hawk, advising him to raise a crop of corn there, with the assurance that in the autumn the winnebagoes and pottawattomies would join him in a general movement against the whites in the valley of the rock. relying on these rose-colored promises, black hawk spent the winter on the west bank of the mississippi, recruiting his band, and on the th of april, , crossed the great river at yellow banks, below the mouth of the rock. thus he invaded the state of illinois, in the face of his solemn treaty of the year before. with him were his second in command, neapope, a wily scoundrel, who was white cloud's tool, and about five hundred sac warriors with their women and children, and all their belongings. their design was to carry out the advice of the prophet, in regard to the corn planting, and if possible to take up the hatchet in the autumn. but it became evident to black hawk, before he reached the prophet's town, that the main body of the pottawattomies, now controlled by the peace loving chief shaubena, did not intend to go to war; and that the rascally winnebagoes, while cajoling him, were preparing as usual to play double. he tells us in his autobiography that, crestfallen, he was planning to return peacefully to the west side of the mississippi, when of a sudden he became aware that the whites had raised an army against him, and he was confronted with a war not in the time and manner of his asking. the news of his second invasion had spread like wildfire throughout the illinois and wisconsin settlements. the united states was appealed to for a regiment of troops; and meanwhile, under another fiery proclamation from the governor of illinois, an army of eighteen hundred militiamen was quickly mustered. amid intense popular excitement, during which many settlers fled from the country, and others hastily threw up log forts, the army was mobilized by general atkinson, who appeared at the rendezvous with three hundred regulars. there were many notable men upon this expedition: abraham lincoln, then a rawboned young fellow, was captain of a company of illinois rangers; zachary taylor, famous for his bluff manner, was a colonel of regulars; and jefferson davis, who was wooing taylor's daughter, was one of his lieutenants; also of the regulars, was major william s. harney, afterward the hero of cerro gordo in the mexican war; and the mustering-in officer was lieutenant robert anderson, who was to become famous in connection with fort sumter. black hawk was foolish enough to send a message of defiance to general atkinson, and, retreating up the rock, he came to a stand at stillman's creek. here he repented, and sent out runners with a flag of truce, to inform the white chief that he would surrender; but the drunken pickets of the militia advance wantonly killed these messengers of peace. this so angered the hawk that with a mere handful of thirty-five braves, on foot, and hid in the hazel brush, he turned in fury upon the two hundred seventy-five horsemen who were now rushing upon him. the cowardly rangers, who fled at the first volley of the savages, without returning it, were haunted by the genius of fear, and, dashing madly through swamps and creeks, did not stop until they had reached dixon, twenty-five miles away. many kept on at a keen gallop till they reached their own firesides, fifty or more miles farther, carrying the absurd report that black hawk and two thousand bloodthirsty warriors were sweeping northern illinois with the besom of destruction. rich in supplies captured in this first encounter, and naturally encouraged at the result of his valor, the hawk thought that so long as the whites were determined to make him fight, he would show his claws in earnest. removing the women and children to far-away swamps on the headwaters of the rock river, in wisconsin, he thence descended with his braves for a general raid through northern illinois. the borderers flew like chickens to cover, on the warning of the hawk's foray. there was consternation throughout the entire west. exaggerated reports of his forces, and of the nature of his expedition, were spread throughout the land. his name became coupled with fabulous tales of savage cunning and cruelty, and served as a household bugaboo the country over. the effect on the illinois militia was singular enough, considering their haste in taking the field; in a frenzy of fear, they instantly disbanded! a fresh levy was soon raised, but in the interval there were irregular hostilities all along the illinois-wisconsin border, in which black hawk and a few winnebago and pottawattomie allies succeeded in making life miserable enough for the frontier farmers of northern illinois and the lead miners of southwest wisconsin. in these border strifes fully two hundred whites and nearly as many indians lost their lives; and there were numerous instances of romantic heroism on the part of the settlers, men and women alike. in about three weeks after stillman's defeat the reorganized militia took the field, reënforced by the regulars under atkinson. black hawk was forced to fly to the swampy region of the upper rock; but, when the pursuit became too warm, he hastily withdrew with his entire band westward to the wisconsin river. closely following upon his trail were a brigade of illinois troops under general james d. henry, and a battalion of wisconsin lead mine rangers under major henry dodge, afterwards governor of wisconsin territory. the pursuers came up with the savages at prairie du sac. here the south bank of the wisconsin consists of steep, grassy bluffs, three hundred feet in height; hence the encounter which ensued is known in history as the battle of the wisconsin heights. with consummate skill, black hawk made a stand on the summit of the heights, and with a small party of warriors held the whites in check until the noncombatants had crossed the broad river bottoms below, and gained shelter upon the willow-grown shore opposite. the loss on either side was slight, the action being notable only for the sac leader's superior management. during the night, the passage of the river was accomplished by the fugitives. a large party was sent downstream upon a raft, and in canoes begged from the winnebagoes; but those who took this method of escape were brutally fired upon near the mouth of the river by a detachment from the garrison at prairie du chien, and fifteen were killed in cold blood. the rest of the pursued, headed by black hawk, who had again made an attempt to surrender his forces, but had failed for lack of an interpreter, pushed across country, guided by winnebagoes, to the mouth of the bad ax, a little stream emptying into the mississippi about forty miles above the mouth of the wisconsin river. his intention was to get his people as quickly as possible on the west bank of the mississippi, in the hope that they would there be allowed to remain in peace. the indians were followed, three days behind, by the united army of regulars, who steadily gained on them. the country between wisconsin heights and the mississippi is rough and forbidding in character; there are numerous swamps and rivers between the steep, thickly wooded hills. the uneven pathway was strewn with the corpses of sacs who had died of wounds and starvation; and there were frequent evidences that the fleeing wretches were sustaining life on the bark of trees and the flesh of their fagged-out ponies. on wednesday, the st of august, black hawk and his now sadly depleted and almost famished band reached the junction of the bad ax with the mississippi. there were only two or three canoes to be had, and the crossing of the father of waters progressed slowly and with frequent loss of life. that afternoon there appeared upon the scene a government supply steamer, the _warrior_, from fort crawford (prairie du chien), at the mouth of the wisconsin. the indians a third time tried to surrender, but their white flag was deliberately fired at, and round after round of canister swept the camp. the next day the pursuing troops arrived on the heights above the river bench, the _warrior_ again opened its attack, and thus, caught between two galling fires, the little army of savages soon melted away. but fifty remained alive on the spot to be taken prisoners. some three hundred weaklings had reached the iowa shore through the hail of iron and lead. of these three hundred helpless, half-starved, unarmed noncombatants, over a half were slaughtered by a party of sioux, under wabashaw, who had been sent out by our government to waylay them. so that out of the band of a thousand indians who had crossed the mississippi over into illinois in april, not more than a hundred and fifty, all told, lived to tell the tragic story of the black hawk war, a tale that stains the american name with dishonor. the rest can soon be told. the winnebago guerrillas, who had played fast and loose during the campaign, delivered to the whites at fort crawford the unfortunate black hawk, who had fled from the bad ax to the dells of the wisconsin river, to seek an asylum with his false friends. the proud old man, shorn of all his strength, was presented to the president at washington, imprisoned in fortress monroe, forced to sign articles of perpetual peace, and then turned over for safe keeping to the sac chief, keokuk, his hated rival. he died on a small reservation in iowa, in . but he was not even then at peace, for his bones were stolen by an illinois physician, for exhibition purposes, and finally were accidentally consumed by fire in . black hawk, with all the limitations of his race, had in his character a strength and manliness of fiber that were most remarkable, and displayed throughout his brief campaign a positive genius for military evolutions. he may be safely ranked as one of the most interesting specimens of the north american savage to be met with in history. he was an indiscreet man. his troubles were brought about by a lack of mental balance, aided largely by unfortunate circumstances. his was a highly romantic temperament. he was carried away by mere sentiment, and allowed himself to be deceived by tricksters. but he was honest, and was more honorable than many of his conquerors were. he was, above all things, a patriot. the year before his death, in a speech to a party of whites who were making a holiday hero of him, he thus forcibly defended his motives: "rock river was a beautiful country. i liked my town, my cornfields, and the home of my people. i fought for them." no poet could have penned for him a more touching epitaph. the story of chequamegon bay chequamegon bay, of lake superior, has had a long and an interesting history. nearly two and a half centuries ago, in the early winter months of , two adventurous french traders, radisson and groseilliers, built a little palisade here, to protect the stock of goods which they exchanged with the indians for furs. this was on the southwestern shore of the bay, a few miles west of the present city of ashland, and in the neighborhood of whittlesey's creek. these men did not tarry long at chequamegon bay. for the most part, they merely kept their stock of goods hid in a _cache_ there, while for some ten months they traveled through the woods, far and wide, in search of trade with the dusky natives. but they made the region known to frenchmen in the settlements at quebec and montreal, as a favorite meeting-place for many tribes of indians who came to the bay to fish. the first jesuit mission on lake superior was conducted by father rené ménard, at keweenaw bay; but he lost his life in the forest in . in the jesuits determined to reopen their mission on the great lake, and for that purpose sent father claude allouez. having heard of the advantages of chequamegon bay, allouez proceeded thither, and erected his little chapel in an indian village upon the mainland, not far from radisson's old palisade, and possibly at the mouth of vanderventer's creek. he called his mission la pointe. conversions were few at la pointe, and allouez soon longed for a broader field. he was relieved in by father jacques marquette, a young and earnest priest. but it was not long before the sioux of minnesota quarreled with the indians of chequamegon bay; and the latter, with marquette, were driven eastward as far as mackinac. although the missionaries had deserted la pointe, fur traders soon came to be numerous there. one of the most prominent of these was daniel grayson duluth, for whom the modern lake city of minnesota was named. for several years he had a small palisaded fort upon chequamegon bay, and, with a lively crew of well-armed boatmen, roamed all over the surrounding country, north, west, and south of lake superior, trading with far-away bands of savages. he had two favorite routes between the great lakes and the mississippi river. one was by way of the narrow and turbulent bois brulé, then much choked by fallen trees and beaver dams; a portage trail of a mile and a half from its headwaters to those of the st. croix river; and thence, through foaming rapids, and deep, cool lakes, down into the father of waters. the other, an easier, but longer way, was up the rugged st. louis river, which separates wisconsin from minnesota on the northwest, over into the sand lake country, and thence, through watery labyrinths, into feeders of the mississippi. another adventurous french forest trader, who quartered on chequamegon bay, was le sueur, who, in , built a fort upon madelaine island. during the old fox war the valleys of the fox and the wisconsin were closed to frenchmen by the enraged indians. this, the most popular route between the great lakes and the great river, being now unavailable, it became necessary to keep open duluth's old routes from lake superior over to the upper mississippi. this was why le sueur was sent to chequamegon bay, to overawe the indians of that region. he thought that his fort would be safer from attack upon the island, than upon the mainland. as la pointe had now come to be the general name of this entire neighborhood, the island fort bore the same name as the old headquarters on land. it is well to remember that the history of madelaine island, the la pointe of to-day, dates from le sueur; that the old la pointe of radisson, allouez, marquette, and probably duluth, was on the mainland several miles to the southwest. in connection with the la pointe fort protecting the northern approach to duluth's trading routes, le sueur erected another stockade to guard the southern end, the location of this latter being on an island in the mississippi, near the present red wing, minnesota. the fort in the mississippi soon became "the center of commerce for the western parts"; and the station at la pointe also soon rose to importance, for the chippewas, who had drifted far inland with the growing scarcity of game, were led by the presence of traders to return to chequamegon bay, and mass themselves in a large village on the southwest shore. although le sueur was not many years in command at the bay, we catch frequent glimpses thereafter of fur trade stations here, french, english, and american in turn, most of them doubtless being on madelaine island. we know, for instance, that there was a french trader at la pointe in ; also, that the year following, a french officer was sent there, with a few soldiers, to patch up and garrison the old stockade. whether a garrisoned fort was kept up at the bay, from that time till the downfall of new france ( ), we cannot say; but it seems probable, for the geographical position was one of great importance in the development of the fur trade. we first hear of copper in the vicinity, in , when an indian brought a nugget to the la pointe post; but the whereabouts of the mine was concealed by the savages, because of their superstitions relative to mineral deposits. the commandant of la pointe, at this time, was la ronde, the chief fur trader in the lake superior country. he and his son, who was his partner, built for their trade a sailing vessel of forty tons burden, without doubt the first one of the kind upon the great lake. we find evidences of the la rondes, father and son, down as late as ; a curious old map of that year gives the name of "isle de la ronde" to what we now know as madelaine. we find nothing more of importance concerning chequamegon bay until about , when beaubassin was the french officer in charge of the fort. the english colonists were harassing the french along the st. lawrence river; and beaubassin, with hundreds of other officers of wilderness forts, was ordered down with his indian allies to the settlements of montreal, three rivers, and quebec, to defend new france. the chippewas, with other wisconsin tribes, actuated by extravagant promises of presents, booty, and scalps, eagerly flocked to the banner of france, and in painted swarms appeared in fighting array on the banks of the st. lawrence. but they helped the british more than the french, for they would not fight, yet with large appetites ate up the provisions of their allies. the garrison being withdrawn from la pointe, madelaine island became a camping-ground for unlicensed traders, who had freedom to plunder the country at their will, for new france, tottering to her fall, could no longer police the upper lakes. in the autumn of one of these parties encamped upon the island. by the time winter had set in upon them, all had left for their wintering grounds in the forests of the far west and northwest, save a clerk named joseph, who remained in charge of the goods and what local trade there was. with him were his wife, his small son, and a manservant. traditions differ as to the cause of the servant's action; some have it, a desire for plunder; others, his detection in a series of petty thefts, which joseph threatened to report. however that may be, the servant murdered first the clerk, then the wife, and in a few days, stung by the child's piteous cries, killed him also. when the spring came, and the traders returned to chequamegon, they inquired for joseph and his family. the servant's reply was at first unsatisfactory; but when pushed for an explanation, he confessed to his terrible deed. the story goes, that in horror the traders dismantled the old french fort, now overgrown with underbrush, as a thing accursed, sunk the cannon in a neighboring pool, and so destroyed the palisade that to-day certain mysterious grassy mounds alone remain to testify of the tragedy. they carried their prisoner with them on their return voyage to montreal, but he is said to have escaped to the huron indians, among whom he boasted of his act, only to be killed by them as too cruel to be a companion even for savages. five years later a great english trader, alexander henry, who had obtained the exclusive trade on lake superior, wintered on the mainland opposite madelaine island. his partner was jean baptiste cadotte, a thrifty frenchman, who for many years thereafter was one of the most prominent characters on the upper lakes. soon after this, a scotch trader named john johnston established himself on the island, and married a comely chippewa maiden, whose father was chief of the native village situated four miles across the water, on the site of the bayfield of to-day. about the beginning of the nineteenth century, michel, a son of old jean baptiste cadotte, took up his abode on the island; and from that time to the present there has been a continuous settlement there, which bears the name la pointe. michel, himself the child of a chippewa mother, but educated at montreal, married equaysayway, the daughter of white crane, the village chief on the island, and became a person of much importance thereabout. for over a quarter of a century this island nabob lived at his ease; here he cultivated a little farm, commanded a variable but far-reaching fur trade, first as agent of the northwest company, and, later, of the american fur company, and reared a large family. his sons were educated at montreal, and become the heads of families of traders, interpreters, and _voyageurs_. to this little paradise of the cadottes there came (in ) two sturdy, fairly educated young men from massachusetts, lyman marcus warren, and his younger brother, truman warren. engaging in the fur trade, these two brothers, of old puritan stock, married two half-breed daughters of michel cadotte. in time they bought out michel's interests, and managed the american fur company's stations at many far-distant places, such as lac flambeau, lac court oreilles, and the st. croix. the warrens were the last of the great la pointe fur traders, truman dying in , and lyman twenty-two years later. lyman warren, although possessed of a catholic wife, was a presbyterian. not since the days of marquette had there been an ordained minister at la pointe, and the catholics were not just then ready to reënter the long-neglected field. warren was eager to have religious instruction on the island, for both indians and whites; and in succeeded in inducing the american home missionary society to send hither, from mackinac, the rev. sherman hall and wife, as missionary and teacher. these were the first protestant missionaries upon the shores of lake superior. for many years their modest little church building at la pointe was the center of a considerable and prosperous mission, both island and mainland, which did much to improve the condition of the chippewa tribe. in later years the mission was moved to odanah. four years after the coming of the halls, there arrived at the island village a worthy austrian priest, father (afterward bishop) baraga. in a small log chapel by the side of the indian graveyard, this new mission of the older faith throve apace. baraga visited europe to beg money for the cause, and in a few years constructed a new chapel; this is sometimes shown to summer tourists as the original chapel of marquette, but no part of the ancient mainland chapel went into its construction. baraga was a man of unusual attainments, and spent his life in laboring for the betterment of the indians of the lake superior country, with a self-sacrificing zeal which is rare in the records of any church. at present, the franciscan friars, with headquarters at bayfield, on the mainland, are in charge of the island mission. la pointe has lost many of its old-time characteristics. no longer is it the refuge of squalid indian tribes; no longer is it a center of the fur trade, with gayly clothed _coureurs de bois_, with traders and their dusky brides, with rollicking _voyageurs_ taking no heed of the morrow. with the killing of the game, and the opening of the lake superior country to the occupation of farmers and miners and manufacturers, its forest trade has departed; the protestant mission has followed the majority of the indian islanders to mainland reservations; and the revived mission of the mother church has also been quartered upon the bay shore. wisconsin territory formed what we now know as wisconsin was part of the vast undefined wilderness to which the spaniards, early in the sixteenth century, gave the name florida. spain claimed the country because of the early discoveries of her navigators and explorers. her claim was undisputed until there came to north america the energetic french, who penetrated the continent by means of the st. lawrence and ottawa rivers and the great lakes, and gradually took possession of the inland water systems, as fast as discovered by their fur traders and missionaries. it should be understood, however, that there were very few, if any, spaniards in all this vast territory, except on or near the gulf of mexico. in quebec was founded. it is supposed that twenty-six years later the first frenchman reached wisconsin, which may, from that date ( ) till , be considered as a part of french territory. when great britain conquered new france, wisconsin became her property, and so continued till the treaty of , by which our northwest was declared to be american soil. owing to the vague and undefined boundaries given by the british government to its original colonies on the atlantic slope, several of the thirteen states claimed that their territory extended out into the northwest; but finally all these claims were surrendered to the general government, in order that there might be formed a national domain, from which to create new states. by the famous ordinance of , congress created the northwest territory, which embraced the wide stretch of country lying between the great lakes and the ohio and the mississippi rivers. the present wisconsin was a part of this great territory. in the year indiana territory was set off from the rest of the northwest territory, and took wisconsin with it. nine years later illinois territory was formed, wisconsin being within its bounds. nine years after that, when illinois became a state, all the country lying west of lake michigan was given to michigan territory; thus was the ownership of wisconsin once more changed, and she became a part of michigan. by this time settlers were coming into the region west of the lake. there had long been several little french villages; but, in addition to the french, numerous american farmers and professional men had lately arrived. the great distance from detroit, at a time when there were no railways or telegraphs, was such as to make it almost impossible to carry on any government here. hence, after a good deal of complaint from the frontiersmen living to the west of lake michigan, and some angry words back and forth between these people and those residing east of the lake, congress was induced, in , to erect wisconsin territory, with its own government. thus far, this region beyond lake michigan had borne no particular name. it was simply an outlying part of the northwest territory; or of the territories of indiana, illinois, or michigan, as the case might be. but, now that it was to be a territory by itself, a name had to be adopted. the one taken was that of its principal river, although "chippewau" was preferred by many people. wisconsin is an indian name, the exact meaning of which is unknown; some writers have said that it signifies "gathering of the waters," or "meeting of the waters," but there is no warrant for this. the earliest known french form of the word is "misconsing," which gradually became crystallized into "ouisconsin." when the english language became dominant, it was necessary to change the spelling in order to preserve the sound; it thus, at first, became "wiskonsan," or "wiskonsin," but finally, by official action, "wisconsin." the "k" was, however, rather strongly insisted on by governor doty and many newspaper editors, in the days of the territory. the first session of the legislature of the new territory of wisconsin was held at the recently platted village of belmont, in the present county of lafayette. the place of meeting was a little story-and-a-half frame house. lead miners' shafts dimpled the country round about, and new stumps could be seen upon every hand. there were many things to be done by the legislature, such as dividing the territory into counties, selecting county seats, incorporating banks, and borrowing money with which to run the new government; but the matter which occasioned the most excitement was the location of the capital, and the bitterness which resulted was long felt in the political history of wisconsin. a month was spent in this contest. the claimants were milwaukee, racine, koshkonong, fond du lac, green bay, madison, wisconsinapolis, peru, wisconsin city, portage, helena, belmont, mineral point, platteville, cassville, belleview, and dubuque (now in iowa, but then in wisconsin). some of these towns existed only upon maps published by real estate speculators. madison was a beautiful spot, in the heart of the wild woods and lakes of central southern wisconsin. it was unknown save to a few trappers, and to the speculators who had bought the land from the federal government, and thought they saw a fortune in inducing the legislature to adopt it as the seat of government. madison won, upon the argument that it was halfway between the rival settlements on lake michigan and the mississippi, and that to build a city there would assist in the development of the interior of the territory. when madison was chosen, a surveyor hurried thither, and in a blinding snowstorm laid out the prospective city. the village grew slowly, and it was november, , before the legislature could meet in its new home. wisconsin becomes a state some of the people of wisconsin were not long content with a territorial government. the territory was only two years old when a bill was introduced in congress for a state government, but the attempt failed. in governor doty, the leader in the movement, had the question put to popular vote; but it was lost, as it also was in the year following. in a third attempt was defeated in the territorial council (or senate); and in , still another met defeat in the territorial house of representatives (or assembly). but at last our territorial representative in congress gave notice (january , ), "of a motion for leave to introduce a bill to enable the people of wisconsin to form a constitution and state government, and for the admission of such state into the union." he followed this, a few days later, by the introduction of a bill to that effect; the bill passed, and in august the measure was approved by president polk. meanwhile, the council and house of wisconsin territory had favorably voted on the proposition. this was in january and february, . in april the question of statehood was passed upon by the people of the territory, the returns this time showing , votes for, and against. in august, governor dodge issued a proclamation calling a convention for the drafting of a constitution. the convention was in session in the territorial capitol at madison, between october and december , . but the constitution which it framed was rejected by the people. the contest over the document had been of an exciting nature; the defeat was owing to differences of opinion upon the articles relating to the rights of married women, exemptions, banks, the elective judiciary, and the number of members of the legislature. as soon as practicable, governor dodge called a special session of the territorial legislature, which made provisions for a second constitutional convention. most of the members of the first convention declined reëlection; six only were returned. the second convention was in session at madison from december , , to february , . the members of both conventions were men of high standing in their several communities, and later many of them held prominent positions in the service of the state and the nation. the constitution adopted by the second convention was so satisfactory to most people, that the popular verdict in march ( , ayes and noes) surprised no one. arrangements for a new bill in congress, admitting wisconsin to the union, were already well under way. upon the very day of the vote by the people, before the result was known, the territorial legislature held its final meeting, and left everything ready for the new state government. the general election for the first state officers and the members of the first state legislature was held may . president polk approved the congressional act of admission may . upon the th of june, governor nelson dewey and his fellow-officials were sworn into office, and the legislature opened its first session. in the old lead mining days of wisconsin, miners from southern illinois and still farther south returned home every winter, and came back to the "diggings" in the spring, thus imitating the migrations of the fish popularly called the "sucker," in the south-flowing rivers of the region. for this reason the south-winterers were humorously called "suckers." on the other hand, lead miners from the far-off eastern states were unable to return home every winter, and at first lived in rude dugouts, burrowing into the hillsides after the fashion of the badger. these burrowing men were the first permanent settlers in the mines north of the illinois line, and called themselves "badgers." thus wisconsin, in later days, when it was thought necessary to adopt a nickname, was, by its own people, dubbed "the badger state." the boundaries of wisconsin in the ordinance of , whereby congress created the old northwest territory out of the triangle of country lying between the ohio and mississippi rivers and lake of the woods and the great lakes, it was provided that this vast region should eventually be parcelled into five states. the east-and-west dividing line was to be "drawn through the southerly bend or extreme of lake michigan"; south of this line were to be erected three states, and north of it two. "whenever," the ordinance read, "any of the said states shall have sixty thousand free inhabitants therein, such state shall be admitted" to the union. it should be said, in explanation of this east-and-west line, that all the maps of lake michigan then extant represented the head of the lake as being much farther north than it was proved to be by later surveys. the line as fixed in the ordinance proved to be a bone of contention in the subsequent carving of the northwest territory into states, leading to a good deal of angry discussion before the boundaries of ohio, indiana, illinois, michigan, and wisconsin, the five states eventually formed from the territory, became established as they are to-day. ohio, the first state to be set off, insisted that maumee bay, with the town of toledo, should be included in her bounds, although it lay north of the east-and-west line of the ordinance. michigan, on the other hand, stoutly insisted on the line as laid down in the law. in and there were some popular disturbances along the border; one of these, though bloodless, was so violent as to receive the name of "the toledo war." congress finally settled the quarrel by giving ohio the northern boundary which she desired, regardless of the terms of the ordinance; michigan was compensated by the gift of what we now call the "northern peninsula" of that state, although it had all along been understood that the country lying west of lake michigan should be the property of the fifth state, whenever that was created. thus, in order that ohio might have another lake port from michigan, wisconsin lost this immense tract of mining country to the north. when indiana came to be erected, it was seen that to adopt the east-and-west line, established by the ordinance, would be to deprive her entirely of any part of the coast of lake michigan. in order, therefore, to satisfy her, congress took another strip, ten miles wide, from the southern border of michigan, and gave it to the new state. michigan made no objection to this fresh violation of the agreement of , because there were no important harbors or towns involved. illinois next knocked at the door of the union. the same conditions applied to her as to indiana; a strict construction of the ordinance would deprive her of an opening on the lake. the illinois delegate who argued this matter in congress was shrewd; he contended that his state must become intimately connected with the growing commerce of the northern lakes, else she would be led, from her commercial relations upon the south-flowing mississippi and ohio rivers, to join a southern confederacy in case the union should be broken up. this was in , and shows how early in our history there had come to be, in the minds of some far-seeing men, a fear that the growing power of slavery might some time lead to secession. the argument prevailed in congress, and there was voted to illinois a strip of territory sixty-one miles wide, lying north of the east-and-west line. thus again was the region later to be called wisconsin deprived of a large and valuable tract. when wisconsin territory was created, there was a great deal of indignation expressed by some of her people, at being deprived of this wide belt of country embracing square miles of exceedingly fertile soil, numerous river and lake ports, many miles of fine water power, and the sites of chicago, rockford, freeport, galena, oregon, dixon, and numerous other prosperous cities. an attempt was made in , at the time the territory was established, to secure for wisconsin's benefit the old east-and-west line, as its rightful southern boundary. but congress declined to grant this request. three years later, the wisconsin territorial legislature declared that "a large and valuable tract of country is now held by the state of illinois, contrary to the manifest right and consent of the people of this territory." the inhabitants of the district in northern illinois which was claimed by wisconsin, were invited by these resolutions to express their opinion on the matter. public meetings were consequently held in several of the illinois towns interested; and resolutions were adopted, declaring in favor of the wisconsin claim. the movement culminated in a convention at rockford (july , ), attended by delegates from nine of the fourteen illinois counties involved. this convention recommended the counties to elect delegates to a convention to be held in madison, "for the purpose of adopting such lawful and constitutional measures as may seem to be necessary and proper for the early adjustment of the southern boundary." curiously enough, the weight of public sentiment in wisconsin itself did not favor the movement. at a large meeting held in green bay, the following april, the people of that section passed resolutions "viewing the resolutions of the legislature with concern and regret," and asking that they be rescinded. with this, popular agitation ceased for the time; and in the following year the legislature promptly defeated a proposition for the renewal of the question. governor doty, however, was a stanch advocate of the idea, and at the legislative session of contrived to work up considerable enthusiasm in its behalf. a bill was reported by the committee on territorial affairs, asking the people in the disputed tract to hold an election on the question of uniting with wisconsin. there were some rather fiery speeches upon the subject, some of the orators going so far as to threaten force in acquiring the wished-for strip; but the legislature itself took no action. however, in stephenson and boone counties, illinois, elections were actually held, at which all but one or two votes were cast in favor of the wisconsin claim. governor doty, thus encouraged, busily continued his agitation. he issued proclamations warning illinois that it was "exercising an accidental and temporary jurisdiction" over the disputed strip, and calling on the two legislatures to authorize the people to vote on the question of restoring wisconsin to her "ancient limits." at first, neither the legislatures of illinois nor wisconsin paid much attention to the matter. finally, in , the wisconsin legislature sent a rather warlike address to congress, in which secession was clearly threatened, unless the "birthright of wisconsin" were restored. congress, however, very sensibly paid no heed to the address, and gradually the excitement subsided, until eventually wisconsin was made a state, with her present boundaries. we have seen that the northern peninsula was given to michigan as a recompense for her loss of toledo and maumee bay. but when it became necessary to determine the boundary between the peninsula and the new territory of wisconsin, now set off from michigan, some difficulty arose, owing to the fact that the country had not been thoroughly surveyed, and there was no good map of it extant. there were various propositions; one of them was, to use the chocolate river as part of the line; had this prevailed, wisconsin would have gained the greater part of the peninsula. but the line of division at last adopted was that of the montreal and menominee rivers, by the way of lake vieux désert. this line had been selected in , because a map published that year represented the headwaters of those rivers as meeting in lake vieux désert; hence it was supposed by the congressional committee that this would make an excellent natural boundary. when, however, the line came to be actually laid out by the surveyors, six years later, for the purpose of setting boundary monuments, it was discovered that lake vieux désert had no connection with either stream, being, in fact, the headwaters of the wisconsin river; and that the running of the line through the woods, between the far-distant headwaters of the montreal and menominee, so as to touch the lake on the way, involved a laborious task, and resulted in a crooked boundary. but it was by this time too late to correct the geographical error, and the awkward boundary thus remains. as originally provided by the ordinance of , wisconsin, as the fifth state to be created out of the northwest territory, was, even after being shorn upon the south and northeast, at least entitled to have as her western boundary the mississippi to its source, and thence a straight line running northward to the lake of the woods and the canadian boundary. but here again she was to suffer loss of soil, this time in favor of minnesota. as a territory, wisconsin had been given sway over all the country lying to the west, as far as the missouri river. in , all beyond the mississippi was detached, and erected into the territory of iowa. eight years later, when wisconsin first sought to be a state, the question arose as to her western boundary. naturally, the people of the eastern and southern sections wished the one set forth in the ordinance. but settlements had by this time been established along the upper mississippi and in the st. croix valley. these were far removed from the bulk of settlement elsewhere in wisconsin, and had neither social nor business interests in common with them. the people of the northwest wished to be released from wisconsin, in order that they might either cast their fortunes with their near neighbors in the new territory of minnesota, or join a movement just then projected for the creation of an entirely new state, to be called "superior." this proposed state was to embrace all the country north of mont trempealeau and east of the mississippi, including the entire northern peninsula, if the latter could be obtained; thus commanding the southern and western shores of lake superior, with the mouth of green bay and the foot of lake michigan to the southeast. the st. croix representative in the legislature was especially wedded to the superior project. he pleaded earnestly and eloquently for his people, whose progress, he said, would be "greatly hampered by being connected politically with a country from which they are separated by nature, cut off from communication by immense spaces of wilderness between." a memorial from the settlers themselves stated the case with even more vigor, asserting that they were "widely separated from the settled parts of wisconsin, not only by hundreds of miles of mostly waste and barren lands, which must remain uncultivated for ages, but equally so by a diversity of interests and character in the population." all of this reads curiously enough in these days, when the intervening wilderness resounds with the hum of industry and "blossoms as the rose." but that was long before the days of railroads; the dense forests of central and western wisconsin then constituted a formidable wilderness, peopled only by savages and wild beasts. unable to influence the wisconsin legislature, which stubbornly contended for the possession of the original tract, the st. croix people next urged their claims upon congress. the proposed state of superior found little favor at washington, but there was a general feeling that wisconsin would be much too large unless trimmed. the result was that when she was finally admitted as a state, the st. croix river was, in large part, made her northwest boundary; minnesota in this manner acquired a vast stretch of country, including the thriving city of st. paul. wisconsin was thus shorn of valuable territory on the south, to please illinois; on the northeast, to favor michigan; and on the northwest, that some of her settlers might join their fortunes with minnesota. the state, however, is still quite as large as most of her sisters in the old northwest, and possesses an unusual variety of soils, and a great wealth of forests, mines, and fisheries. there is a strong probability that, had congress, in , given to wisconsin her "ancient limits," as defined by the ordinance of , the movement to create the proposed state of "superior" would have gathered strength in the passing years, and possibly would have achieved success, thus depriving us of our great northern forests and mines, and our outlet upon the northern lake. life in pioneer days so long as the fur trade remained the principal business in wisconsin, the french were still supreme at green bay and prairie du chien; and, until a third of the nineteenth century had passed away, there existed at these outposts of new france a social life which smacked of the "old régime," bearing more traces of seventeenth-century normandy than of puritan new england. with the decline of the fur trade, a new order of things slowly grew up. there being little legal machinery west of lake michigan, before wisconsin territory was erected, local government was slow to establish itself. nothing but the good temper and stout common sense of the people prevented anarchy, under such a condition of affairs. for many years, the few public enterprises were undertaken at private expense. at green bay, schools were thus conducted, as early as . in the citizens of that village raised a fund by popular subscription, and built a jail; and eleven years later, they asked the legislature of michigan territory to pay for it. there were some territorial taxes levied in , but the gathering of them was not very successful. the first county to levy a tax was crawford, of which prairie du chien was the seat, but considerable difficulty appears to have been experienced in collecting the money. finally, wisconsin territory was organized, and the legislature assembled ( ) in madison, the new capital. the accommodations at that raw little woodland village were meager, even for pioneer times. the territorial building of stone, and a few rude frame and log houses in the immediate neighborhood, were all there was of the infant city. only fifty strangers could be decently lodged there, and a proposition to adjourn to milwaukee was favored. but as the lakeshore metropolis, also a small village, could offer no better accommodations, it was decided to stay at the capital, and brave it out on the straw and hay mattresses, of which, however, there were not enough to supply the demand. this was long before railroads had reached wisconsin. travel through the new territory was by boat, horseback, or a kind of snow sledge called a "french train." there were no roads, except such as had been developed from the old deep-worn indian trails which interlaced the face of the country, and traces of which can still be seen in many portions of the state. the pioneers found that these trails, with a little straightening, often followed the best possible routes for bridle paths or wagon roads. it was not long before they were being used by long lines of teams, transporting smelted lead from the mines of southwest wisconsin to the milwaukee and galena docks; on the return, they carried supplies for the "diggings," and sawmill machinery into the interior forests. farmers' wagons and stagecoaches followed in due time. bridges were but slowly built; the unloaded wagons were ferried across rivers in indian "dugout" canoes, the horses swimming behind, and the freight being brought over in relays. in there was a financial crisis throughout the country, and this checked western immigration for a few years. but there was not enough money in wisconsin for bank failures materially to affect the people; so, when the tide of settlement again flowed hither, the badgers were as strong and hopeful as ever. people coming to wisconsin from the east often traveled all the way in their own wagons; or would take a lake boat at buffalo, and then proceed by water to detroit, green bay, or chicago, thence journeying in caravans to the interior. frontier life, in those days, was of the simplest character. the immigrants were for the most part used to hard work and plain fare. accordingly the privations of their new surroundings involved relatively little hardship, although sometimes a pioneer farmer was fifty or a hundred miles from a gristmill, a store, or a post office, and generally his highway thither was but a blazed bridle path through the tangled forest. often his only entertainments throughout the year were "bees" for raising log houses or barns for newcomers, and on these occasions all the settlers for scores of miles around would gather in a spirit of helpful comradery. occasionally the mail carrier, either afoot or on horseback, would wish accommodation over night. particularly fortunate was the man who maintained a river ferry at the crossing of some much-frequented trail; he could have frequent chats with strangers, and collect stray shillings from mail carriers or other travelers whose business led them through the wilderness. often the new settler brought considerable flour and salt pork with him, in his journey to the west; but it was not at first easy to get a fresh supply. curiously enough, although in the midst of a wild abundance, civilized man at the outset sometimes suffered for the bare necessaries of life. as soon, however, as he could garner his first crop, and become accustomed to the new conditions, he was usually proof against disaster of this kind; fish and game were so abundant, in their season, that in due time the backwoodsman was able to win a wholesome livelihood from the storehouse of nature. satisfactory education for youth was a plant of comparatively small growth. at first there was not enough money in the country to pay competent teachers. the half-educated sons and daughters of the pioneers taught the earliest schools, often upon a private subscription basis; text-books were few, appliances generally wanting, and the results were, for many years, far from satisfactory. as for spiritual instruction, this was given by itinerant missionary preachers and priests, of various denominations, who braved great hardships while making their rounds on horseback or afoot, and deserve to rank among the most daring of the pioneer class. in due time churches and schools were firmly established throughout the territory. in addition to these farmer colonists, there came many young professional and business men, chiefly from new york and new england, seeking an opening in the new territory for the acquisition of fame and wealth. many of these were men of marked ability, with high ambition and progressive ideas, who soon took prominent part in molding public opinion in the young wisconsin. there are, all things considered, no abler, more forceful men in the wisconsin of to-day than were some of those, now practically all passed away, who shaped her destinies in the fourth and fifth decades of the nineteenth century. the sessions of the legislature were the principal events of the year. prominent men from all over wisconsin were each winter attracted to madison, as legislators, lobbyists, or visitors, crowding the primitive little hotels and indulging in rather boisterous gayety; for humor in those pioneer days was often uncouth. there was overmuch "horseplay," hard drinking, and profanity; and now and then, as the result of a warm discussion, a tussle with fists and canes. the newspapers were given to rude personal attacks upon their enemies; one would suppose, to read the columns of the old journals, that editors thought it their chief business in life to carry on a wordy, bitter quarrel with some rival editor or politician. but this was largely on the surface, for effect. as a matter of fact, strong attachments between men were more frequent then than now. there was a deal of dancing and miscellaneous merrymaking at these legislative sessions; and travelers have left us, in their letters and journals, statements which show that they greatly relished the experience of tarrying there on their winter journeys across the territory, and of being entertained by the good-hearted villagers. pioneers, in their stories of those early years, are fond of calling them the "good old times," and styling present folk and manners degenerate. no doubt there was a certain charm in the rude simplicity of frontier life, but there were, as well, great inconveniences and rude discomforts, with which few pioneers of our day would wish to be confronted, after having tasted the pleasures arising from the wealth of conveniences of every sort which distinguishes these latter days. as far back in time as human records go, we ever find old men bewailing prevalent degeneracy, and sighing in vain for "the good old times" when they were young. it is a blessing given to the old that the disagreeable incidents of their youth should be forgotten, and only the pleasant events remembered. as a matter of fact, we of to-day may well rejoice that, while wisconsin enjoyed a lusty youth, she has now, in the fullness of time, grown into a great and ambitious commonwealth, lacking nothing that her sisters own, in all that makes for the prosperity and happiness of her people. the development of roads when white men first came to our land, the indian trails formed a network of narrow, deep-sunken paths over the face of the country, as they connected village with village, and these with the hunting and fishing resorts of the aborigines. many of the most important trails simply followed the still earlier tracks of the buffalo, which in great herds wandered from plain to plain, in search of forage, or in hiding from man, through the dark forest and over the hills. the buffalo possessed an unerring instinct for selecting the best places for a road, high ridges overlooking the lowlands, and the easy slopes of hills. in the far west, they first found the passes over the rockies, just as, still earlier, they crossed the alleghanies by the most favorable routes. the indian followed in the footsteps of the buffalo, both to pursue him as game, and better to penetrate the wilderness. the white man followed the well-defined indian trail, first on foot, then on horseback; next (after straightening and widening the curving path), by freight wagon and by stagecoach; and then, many years later, the railway engineer often found his best route by the side of the developed buffalo track, especially in crossing the mountain ranges. the union pacific and the southern pacific railways are notable examples of lines which have simply followed well-worn overland roads, which were themselves but the transcontinental buffalo paths of old. an interesting story might be written concerning the development of the principal indian trails in wisconsin into the wagon roads of the pioneers, and some of these into the military roads made by the federal government for the marching of troops between the frontier forts. without fairly good roads, at least during the winter and summer months, it would have been impossible for wisconsin to grow into a great state; for good roads are necessary to enable settlers, tools, and supplies to get into the country, and to afford an outlet for crops. for this reason, in any newly settled region, one of the first duties of the people is to make roads and bridges. we have still much to do in wisconsin, before we can have such highways as they possess in the old eastern states. in many parts of our state, the country roads in the rainy seasons are of little credit to us. but the worst of them are much better than were some of the best in pioneer days, and some of our principal thoroughfares between the larger cities are fairly good. the federal government set a good example by having its soldiers build several military roads, especially between forts howard (green bay), winnebago (portage), and crawford (prairie du chien). in territorial and early statehood days, charters were granted by the legislature for the building and maintenance of certain tollroads between large towns; some of these were paved with gravel or broken stone, others with planks. many of the plank roads remained in use until about ; but before that date all highways became the property of the public, and tollgates were removed. bridges charging tolls are still in use in some parts of the state, where the people have declined to tax themselves for a public bridge, which therefore has been built by a private company in consideration of the privilege of collecting tolls from travelers. early in the year when wisconsin territory was erected ( ), and while it was still attached to michigan territory, there was a strong movement, west of lake michigan, in favor of a railway between milwaukee and prairie du chien, connecting the lake with the mississippi river. congress was petitioned by the legislative council of michigan to make an appropriation to survey the proposed line. there were as yet very few agricultural settlers along the route; the chief business of the road was to be the shipment of lead from the mines of the southwest to the milwaukee docks; thence it was to be carried by vessels to buffalo, and sent forward in boats, over the erie canal, to the hudson river and new york. this was in january; in the september following, after wisconsin territory had been formed, a public meeting was held in milwaukee, to petition the territorial legislature to pass an act incorporating a company to construct the proposed lead-mine road, upon a survey to be made at the expense of the united states, and there was even some talk of another road to the far-away wilderness of lake superior. but this early railway project was premature. wisconsin had then but twenty-two thousand inhabitants, and milwaukee was a small frontier village. then again, railroading in the united states was still in its infancy. in pennsylvania there was a small line, hardly better than an old-fashioned horse car track, over which a wheezy little locomotive slowly made occasional trips, and the baltimore and ohio railway had not long before experimented with sails as a motive power. it is not surprising, therefore, that congress acted slowly in regard to the overambitious wisconsin project, and that it was nearly fourteen and a half years before a railway was actually opened in this state. indeed, many people thought at that time that canals, costing less in construction and in operation, were more serviceable for wisconsin than railways. the people of northern wisconsin were particularly eager for canals; in the southern part, railways were most popular. the most important canal project was that known as the fox and wisconsin rivers improvement. from the earliest historic times, these two opposite-flowing rivers, whose waters approach within a mile and a half of each other at portage, had been used as a boat route between the great lakes and the mississippi river. we have seen, in preceding chapters, what an important part was played by this route in the early history of wisconsin. but when large vessels became necessary to the trade of the region, and steam navigation was introduced, it was found that the historic water way presented many practical difficulties: the fox abounds in rapids below lake winnebago, and in its upper waters is very shallow; the wisconsin is troubled with shifting sand bars. in order to accommodate the traffic, a canal was necessary along the portage path, and extensive improvements in both rivers were essential. as early as , congress was asked to aid in this work, and from time to time such aid has been given. but, although several millions of dollars have, through all these years, been spent upon the two streams, there has been no important modern navigation through them between the great lakes and the great river. the chief result has been the admirable system of locks between lake winnebago and green bay, making available the splendid water power of the lower valley of the fox. another water way project was that of the milwaukee and rock river canal. this was designed to connect the waters of the milwaukee and rock rivers, thereby providing an additional way for vessels to pass from lake michigan to the mississippi. a company was incorporated, with a capital of a million dollars, and congress made a large grant of land to wisconsin territory. but after some years of uncertainty and heavy expense the project was abandoned as impracticable. the territorial legislature began to charter railway companies as early as , but the milwaukee and mississippi was the first road actually built. the track was laid in and a train was run out to waukesha, a distance of twenty miles. in the line reached the mississippi. this was the modest beginning of the chicago, milwaukee, and st. paul system. the chicago and northwestern railway entered wisconsin from chicago about the same time ( ). numerous small lines were built before the war of secession, nearly all of them being soon swallowed up by the larger companies. during the war, there was stagnation in railway building, but when peace was declared there was renewed activity, and to-day wisconsin is as well provided with good railways as any state of its size and population in the union. the phalanx at ceresco in the fourth decade of the nineteenth century there was much agitation, both in france and america, over the teachings of a remarkable man named françois marie charles fourier. he claimed that if people would band themselves together in communities, in the proper spirit of mutual forbearance and helpfulness, and upon plans laid down by him, it would be proved that they could get along very well with no strife of any sort, either in business, or religion, or politics. then, if the nations would but unite themselves in the same way, universal peace would reign. during the stirring times of the french revolution and of the great napoleon, there had been much social agitation of the violent sort. a reaction had come. the talk about the rights of man was no longer confined to the violent, revengeful element of the population; it was now chiefly heard among the good and gentle folk, among men of wealth and benevolence, as well as those of learning and poverty. in france, fourier was the leader among this new class of socialists. in france, england, and holland, colonies more or less after the fourier model were established; and it was not long before communities came to be founded in the united states. the most famous of these latter was brook farm, in massachusetts, because among its members were several well-known authors and scientists, who wrote a great deal about their experiences there. but the only community in america conducted strictly on fourier's plan, flourished in wisconsin. the _new york tribune_, edited by horace greeley, a noted reformer, was earnest in advocating fourierism, as it was called, doing much to attract attention to "the principle of equitable distributions." one of the many readers of the _tribune_ was warren chase, of kenosha, a young new hampshire man, thirty years of age, who became much attached to the new idea. this was during the winter of - . chase gathered about him at kenosha a group of intelligent men and women, some of whom had property, and they formed a stock company, incorporated under the laws of wisconsin territory, but based strictly on the plans laid down by fourier. having purchased six hundred acres of government land, in a gentle valley within the present ripon township, in fond du lac county, nineteen pioneers, led by chase, made their way thither in may. there were no railroads in those days, and the little company proceeded overland through flower-decked prairies, and over wooded hills, in oxcarts and horse wagons, with droves of cattle, and tools and utensils. the reformers called their colony "ceresco," after ceres, the goddess of agriculture. plowing was commenced, buildings were erected, shops and forges established. very soon some two hundred men, women, and children had arrived, and in due time many branches of industry were in full operation. the ceresco community was, as suggested by fourier, styled a "phalanx." the members were classified, according to their capacity to labor, in educational, mechanical, and agricultural series, each series being divided into groups. the government was headed by a president and nine councilors; each series had a chairman, and each group a foreman. labor was voluntary, the shops being owned by the community at large; while the land was divided equally among all the members, old and young, save that no family might possess over forty acres. as the community grew, more land was purchased for their use. the council laid out the work to be done, or the policy to be pursued. when there was a question to be decided, the series interested voted upon it; but in some important cases, the matter was referred for final action to the several groups. each person received pay according to his value as a worker, the record being kept by the foreman of his group. they were not paid upon the same scale; for instance, the members of the council and the school-teachers received more than skilled mechanical laborers, and these in turn more than ordinary workmen. the phalanx at first lived in temporary quarters, and a year later erected a large building "four hundred feet in length, consisting of two rows of tenements, with a hall between, under one roof." each family lived in its own compartments, but all ate in common at a boarding house called the "phalanstery," where a charge was made of seventy-five cents a week for each person. the "unitary" was a large building used for business and social meetings, these being held in the evenings; each tuesday evening the literary and debating club met, wednesday evening the singing school, and thursday evening a dancing party. unlike many other communities, the fourier colonies were not religious in character. each member of the phalanx at ceresco might worship as he pleased. at various times, for the membership fluctuated somewhat, ministers of different denominations were members of the colony, and frequently there were visits from wandering missionaries. none of the colonists were allowed to use intoxicating liquors as a beverage. there must be no vulgar language, swearing, or gambling; and one of the by-laws commanded that "censoriousness and fault-finding, indolence, abuse of cattle or horses, hunting or fishing on the first day of the week, shall be deemed misdemeanors, and shall be punishable by reprimand or expulsion." these punishments were the only ones which the community could inflict upon its members, for it had no judicial powers under the law. but there was small need of punishments at ceresco. its members were, as a rule, men and women of most excellent character. there was never any dishonesty, or other serious immorality, within the phalanx; the few neighboring settlers regarded the reformers with genuine respect. all the proceedings of the community were open, and its carefully kept accounts and records might be inspected by any one at any time. whenever charges were brought against a member, they were laid before the full assembly at the next weekly meeting; a week elapsed before consideration, in order to give ample opportunity for defense; then the entire body of colonists, women as well as men, voted on the question, acquitting the offender or reprimanding him or, by a two-thirds vote, expelling him from the phalanx. wisconsin was then sparsely settled at best; the peaceful little valley of ceresco was equally far removed from the centers of population at green bay and in the southern portion of the territory. yet many pioneers came toiling over the country, to apply for admission to this garden of eden. but it is recorded that not one in four was taken into fellowship, for the phalanx desired "no lazy, shiftless, ne'er-do-well members," and only those believed to be wise, industrious, and benevolent were taken into the fold. and thus the ceresco phalanx seemed mightily to prosper. its stock earned good dividends, its property was in excellent condition, the quality of its membership could not be bettered. far and near were its praises sung. the _new york tribune_ gave weekly news of its doings, and was ever pointing to it as worthy of emulation; the brook farm paper hailed it as proof that socialism had at last succeeded. had each member been equally capable with his fellows, had the families been of the same size, had there been no jealousies, no bickerings, had these good folk been without ambition, had they, in short, been contented, the phalanx might have remained a success. they were clothed, fed, and housed at less expense than were outsiders; they had many social enjoyments not known elsewhere in the valley; and, according to all the philosophers, should have been a happy people. the public table, the public amusement rooms, and all that, had at first a spice of pleasant novelty; but soon there was a realization that this had not the charm of home life, that one's family affairs were too much the affairs of all. the strong and the willing saw that they were yoked to those who were weak and slothful; there was no chance for natural abilities to assert themselves, no reward for individual excellence. wisconsin became a state in . everywhere, ambitious and energetic citizens in the rapidly growing commonwealth were making a great deal of money through land speculations and the planting of new industries, everywhere but in ceresco, where the community life allowed no man to rise above the common level. the california gold fields, opened the following year, also sorely tempted the young men. the members of the phalanx found themselves hampered by their bond. caring no longer for the reformation of society, they eagerly clamored to get back into the whirl of that struggle for existence which, only a few years before, they had voted so unnecessary to human welfare. in the good folk at ceresco voted unanimously, and in the best of feeling toward one another, to disband their colony. they sold their lands at a fair profit to each; and very soon, in the rush for wealth and for a chance to exercise their individual powers, were widely distributed over the face of the country. some of them ultimately won much worldly success; others fell far below the level of prosperity maintained in the phalanx, and came to bemoan the "good old days" of the social community, when the strong were obliged to bolster the weak. a mormon king in the year there came from new york to the village of burlington, racine county, an eccentric young lawyer named james jesse strang. originally a farmer's boy, he had been a country school-teacher, a newspaper editor, and a temperance lecturer, as well as a lawyer. possessed of an uneasy, ambitious spirit, he had wandered much, and changed his occupation with apparent ease. strang was passionately fond of reading, was gifted with a remarkable memory, and developed a fervent, persuasive style of oratory, which he delighted in employing. he often astonished the courts by the shrewd eloquence with which he supported strange, unexpected points in law. it is related of him that, soon after he came to wisconsin, he brought a suit to recover the value of honey which, he claimed, had been stolen from his client's hives by the piratical bees of a neighbor, and his arguments were so plausible that he nearly won his case. in less than a year after his arrival in burlington, the village was visited by some mormon missionaries. they came from nauvoo, illinois, on the banks of the mississippi river, where there was a settlement of so-called latter-day saints, who lived under the sway of a designing knave named joseph smith. strang at once became a convert, and entered into the movement with such earnestness that, with his oratory, his ability to manage men, and his keen zest for notoriety, he became one of the most prominent followers of the faith. six months after strang's conversion, joseph smith, the president and prophet of the mormons, was killed by an illinois mob. at once there arose a desperate strife among the leaders, for the successorship to joseph. two of the number, brigham young and strang, were men of ability, and the contest soon narrowed down to them. young had the powerful support of the council of the church, known as "the twelve apostles"; but strang produced a letter said to have been written by joseph just before his death, in which strang was named as his successor, with directions to lead the mormons to a new "city of promise" in wisconsin, to be called "voree." the "apostles" at nauvoo denounced strang as an impostor, declared that his letter was a forgery, and attacked him bitterly in their official newspapers, published at nauvoo and at liverpool, england. but strang was not easily put down. a great many of the fanatics at nauvoo believed in this impetuous young leader, who defended his cause with tact and forceful eloquence; and for a time it looked as if he might win. however, in the end the "apostles" had their way, and the adroit young was elected to the headship of the church. strang at once called forth his followers, and in april, , planted the "city of voree" upon a prairie by the side of white river, in walworth county, wisconsin. it soon became a town of nearly two thousand inhabitants, who owned all things in common, but were ruled over, even in the smallest affairs of life, by the wily president strang, who claimed to be divinely instructed in every detail of his rigorous government. the people dwelt "in plain houses, in board shanties, in tents, and sometimes, many of them, in the open air." great meetings were held at voree, and the surrounding settlers gathered to hear strang and his twelve "apostles" lay down the law, and tell of the revelations which had been delivered to them by the almighty. strang, who closely imitated the methods of joseph, pretended to discover the word of god in deep-hidden records. joseph had found the book of mormon graven upon plates dug out of the hill of cumorah, in new york; so strang discovered buried near voree similar brazen plates bearing revelations, written in the rhythmic style of the scriptures, which supplemented those in the book of mormon. president strang was a very busy man as the head of the voree branch of the mormon church. he obtained a printing outfit, and published a little weekly paper called _gospel herald_, besides hundreds of pamphlets, all written by himself, in which he assailed the "brighamites" in the same violent manner as they attacked him in their numerous publications. he also, with his missionaries, conducted meetings in ohio, new york, and other states in the east, gathering converts for voree, and boldly repelling the wordy attacks of the brighamites, whose agents were working the same fields. despite some backslidings, and occasional quarrels within its ranks, voree grew and prospered. by there was a partially built stone temple there, which is thus described by an imaginative letter writer of the time: "it covers two and one-sixth acres of ground, has twelve towers, and the great hall two hundred feet square in the center. the entire walls are eight feet through, the floors and roofs are to be marble, and when finished it will be the grandest building in the world." nevertheless, it was early seen by strang that the growing opposition of neighboring settlers would in the end cause the mormons to leave wisconsin, just as the nauvoo fanatics were compelled (in ) to flee from illinois, to plant their stake in the wilderness of the far west. he therefore made preparations for a place of refuge for his people, when persecutions should become unbearable. in journeying by vessel, upon one of his missions, he had taken note of the isolation of an archipelago of large, beautiful, well-wooded islands near the foot of lake michigan. the month of may, , found him with four companions upon beaver island, in this far-away group. they built a log cabin, arranged for a boat, and returned to voree to prepare for the migration of the faithful. the new colony at first grew slowly, but by the summer of the "saints" began to arrive in goodly numbers. strang himself now headed the settlement; and thereafter voree ceased to be headquarters for the "primitive mormons," as they called themselves, although a few remained in the neighborhood. very soon, about two thousand devotees were gathered within the "city of st. james," on beaver island, with well-tilled farms, neat houses, a sawmill, roads, docks, and a large temple. a hill near by they renamed mount pisgah, and a river jordan and a sea of galilee were not far away. one beautiful day in july, , strang, arrayed in a robe of bright red, was, with much ceremony, crowned by his "apostles" as "king of the kingdom of st. james." foreign ambassadors were appointed, and a royal press was set up, for the flaying of his enemies. schools and debating clubs were opened; the community system was abolished; tithes were collected for the support of the government; tea, coffee, and tobacco were prohibited; and even the dress of the people was regulated by law. never was there a king more absolute than strang; doubtless, for a time, he thought his dream of empire realized at last, and that here in this unknown corner of the world the "saints" might remain forever unmolested. but the sylvan archipelago, and beaver island itself, had other inhabitants; these were rude, sturdy, illiterate fishermen, who lived in huts along the coast, and had little patience with the fantastic performances of their neighbors, king strang and the court of st. james. his majesty had, also, jealous enemies among his own subjects. trouble soon ensued. the fishermen frequently assaulted the "saints," and carried on a petty warfare against the colony at large, in which the county sheriff was soon engaged; for false charges came to be entered against these strange but inoffensive people, and they were now and then thrown into jail. the king, thereupon, in self-defence, "went into politics." having so many votes at his command, he easily secured the election of mormons to all the county offices, and of himself to the legislature of michigan. but despite these victories over outside foes, matters at home went from bad to worse. the enemies in his camp multiplied, for his increasingly despotic rule gave them abundance of grievances. at last, about the middle of june, , two of the malcontents shot their monarch from behind. he was taken by vessel to his old home in voree, where he was tenderly cared for until his death, a month later, by his poor, neglected wife, who had remained behind when he went forth to the island. his kingdom did not long survive him. the unruly fishermen came one day with ax and torch, leveled the royal city to the ground, and banished the frightened "saints." to-day the white river prairie gives no evidence of having once borne the city of zion, and even in the michigan archipelago there remain few visible relics of the marvelous reign of king strang. the wisconsin bourbon two years after louis the xvi., bourbon king of france, and his beautiful queen, marie antoinette, were beheaded by the revolutionists in paris, in the closing decade of the eighteenth century, their imbecile child of eight years, called the "dauphin," was officially reported to have died in prison. but the story was started at the time, and popularly believed, that the real dauphin, louis the xvii., had been stolen by the royalists, and another child cunningly substituted to die there in his place. the story went that the dauphin had been sent to america, and that all traces of him were lost; thus was given to any adventurer of the requisite age, and sufficiently obscure birth, an opportunity to seek such honor as might be gained in claiming identity with the escaped prisoner. great was the excitement in the united states, when, in , it was confidently announced by a new york magazine writer that the long lost prince had at last been discovered, in the person of the middle-aged eleazer williams, an episcopal missionary to the oneida indians at little kaukauna, in the lower valley of the fox. the bonaparte family, represented by louis napoleon, were just then in control of france; but the bourbon family, of which louis the xvii., were he alive, would naturally be the head, considered themselves rightful hereditary masters of that country. of course, there was at the time no opportunity for any bourbon actually to occupy the french throne; but the people of that country are highly emotional, revolutions have been numerous among them, and displaced royalists are always hoping for some turn in affairs which may enable them once more to gain the government. it was this possible chance of the bourbons getting into power once more, that added interest to the story. let us see what sort of person this eleazer williams of wisconsin was, and how it came about that he made the assertion that he was the head of the bourbons, and an uncrowned king. it had heretofore been supposed by every one who knew him that he was the son of mohawk indian parents, both of whom had white blood in their veins, living just over the new york border, in canada. certain congregationalists had induced this couple to allow two of their sons, thomas and eleazer, to be educated in new england as missionaries to the indians; and for several years they attended academies there, becoming fairly proficient in english, although their aboriginal manners were not much improved. at last returning to his canadian home, eleazer neglected his congregational benefactors, and soon became interested in the episcopal church. he would have become one of its missionaries at once, but just at that time the war of - broke out; and instead he became a spy in the pay of the united states, conveying to his employers important information concerning the movements of british troops in canada. when the war was over, having, as an american spy, incurred the dislike of the canadian mohawks, he was sent as an episcopal missionary to the oneida indians, then living in oneida county, new york. williams appears to have differed from the ordinary indian type, although he was thickset, dark haired, and swarthy of skin. some took him to be a spaniard; others there were who thought him french; and comments which he had heard, concerning his slight resemblance to the pictures of the bourbons, doubtless caused eleazer in later years to pretend to be the lost dauphin. he was a fair orator, and in his earlier years succeeded well in persuading the simple red men about him. his plausible manner, and this ease of persuasion, finally led him astray. the oneida indians in new york and their neighbors (formerly from new england), the munsees, stockbridges, and brothertowns, were just then being crowded out of that state. a great company had acquired the right from the federal government to purchase the lands held by these indians, whenever they cared to dispose of them. in order to hurry matters, the company began to sow among the poor natives the seeds of discontent. certain of their leaders, among them williams, advocated emigration to the west. it appears that williams, who was a born intriguer, conceived the ambitious idea of taking advantage of this movement to establish an indian empire in the country west of lake michigan, with himself as dictator. moved by the clamor of the red men, the federal government sent a delegation to wisconsin, in , to see whether the tribes west of the lake would consent to accept the new york indians as neighbors. this delegation was headed by dr. jedediah morse, a celebrated geographer and missionary. morse visited mackinac and green bay, and returned with the report that the valley of the lower fox was the most suitable place in which to make a settlement. that very summer, williams himself, with several other headmen, had on their own account journeyed as far as detroit on a similar errand, but returned without discovering a location. the owners of the land selected by morse were the menominees and winnebagoes, with whom williams and his followers held a council at green bay, the following year. a treaty was signed, by which the new york indians were granted a large strip of land, four miles wide, at little chute. the ensuing year ( ), at a new council held at green bay, the new yorkers asked for still more land. the winnebagoes, much incensed, withdrew from the treaty, but the menominees were won over by williams's eloquence, and granted an extraordinary cession, making the new york indians joint owners with themselves of all menominee territory, which then embraced very nearly a half of all the present state of wisconsin. ten years of quarreling followed, for there was at once a reaction from this remarkable spirit of generosity. in there was concluded a final treaty, apparently satisfactory to most of those concerned, and soon thereafter a large number of new york indians removed hither. the oneidas and munsees established themselves upon duck creek, near the mouth of the fox, and the stockbridges and brothertowns east of lake winnebago. as for williams, the jealousies and bickerings among his people soon caused him to lose control over them, thus giving the deathblow to his wild dreams of empire. during the next twenty years, in which he continued to serve as a missionary to the wisconsin oneidas, williams was a well-known and picturesque character. his home was on the west bank of the river, about a mile below little kaukauna. although a man of much vigor and strength of mind, he soon came to be recognized as an unscrupulous fellow by the majority of both whites and reds in the lower fox, and his clerical brethren, east as well as west, appear to have regarded him with more or less contempt. baffled in several fields of notoriety which he had worked, williams suddenly posed before the american public, in , as the hereditary sovereign of france. he was too young by eight years to be the lost dauphin; that he was clearly of indian origin was proved by a close examination of his color, form, and feature; his dusky parents protested under oath that the wayward eleazer was their son; every allegation of his in regard to the matter has often been exposed as false; and all his neighbors who knew him treated his claims as fraudulent. nevertheless, he succeeded in deceiving a number of good people, including several leading clergymen of his church; one of the latter attempted in an elaborate book, "the lost prince," to prove conclusively that williams was indeed the son of the executed monarch. the pretensions of eleazer williams, who dearly loved the notoriety which this discussion awakened, extended through several years. they even won some little attention in france, but far less than here, for several other men had claimed to be the lost dauphin, so that the pretension was not a new one over there. louis philippe, the head of the bourbon-orleans family in france, sent him a present of some finely bound books, believing him the innocent victim of a delusion; but, further than that, and a chance meeting at green bay, between eleazer williams and another french royalist, the prince de joinville, then on his travels through america, the family in france paid no attention to the adventurous half-breed american indian who claimed to be one of them. the reputation of williams as a missionary had at last fallen so low, and the neglect of his duties was so persistent, that his salary was withdrawn by the episcopal church, and his closing years were spent in poverty. he died in , maintaining his absurd claims to the last. slave catching in wisconsin there had been a few negro slaves in wisconsin before the organization of the territory and during territorial days. they had for the most part been brought in by lead miners from kentucky and missouri. but, as the population increased, it was seen that public opinion here, as in most of the free states, was strongly opposed to the practice of holding human beings as chattels. gradually the dozen or more slaves were returned to the south, or died in service, or were freed by their masters; so that, at an early day, the slavery question had ceased to be of local importance here. as the years passed on, and the people of the north became more and more opposed to the slave system of the south, the latter lost an increasing number of its slaves through escape to canada. they were assisted in their flight by northern sympathizers, who, secretly receiving them on the north bank of the ohio river, passed them on from friend to friend until they reached the canadian border. as this system of escape was contrary to law, it had to be conducted, by both white rescuers and black fugitives, with great privacy, often with much peril to life; hence it received the significant, popular name of "the underground railroad." wisconsin had but small part in the working of the underground railroad, because it was not upon the usual highway between the south and canada. but our people took a firm stand on the matter, sympathizing with the fugitive slaves and those who aided them on their way to freedom. when, therefore, congress, in , at the bidding of the southern politicians, passed the fugitive slave law, wisconsin bitterly condemned it. this act was designed to crush out the underground railroad. it provided for the appointment, by federal courts, of commissioners in the several states, whose duty it should be to assist slaveholders and their agents in catching their runaway property. the unsupported testimony of the owner or agent was sufficient to prove ownership, the black man himself having no right to testify, and there being for him no trial by jury. the united states commissioners might enforce the law by the aid of any number of assistants, and, in the last resort, might summon the entire population to help them. there were very heavy penalties provided for violations of this inhuman law. the fugitive slave law was denounced by most of the political conventions held in our state that year. in his message to the legislature, in january, , governor dewey expressed the general sentiment when he said that it "contains provisions odious to our people, contrary to our sympathies, and repugnant to our feelings." but it was three years before occasion arose for wisconsin to act. in the early months of , a negro named joshua glover appeared in racine, and obtained work in a sawmill four miles north of that place. on the night of the th of march, he was playing cards in his little cabin, with two other men of his race. suddenly there appeared at the door seven well-armed white men,--two united states deputy marshals from milwaukee, their four assistants from racine, and a st. louis man named garland, who claimed to be glover's owner. a desperate struggle followed, the result being that glover, deserted by his comrades and knocked senseless by a blow, was placed in chains by his captors. severely bleeding from his wounds, he was thrown into an open wagon and carted across country to the milwaukee county jail, for the man hunters feared to go to racine, where the antislavery feeling was strong. it was a bitter cold night, and glover's miseries were added to by the brutal garland, who at intervals kicked and beat the prisoner, and promised him still more serious punishment upon their return to the missouri plantation. the news of the capture was not long in reaching racine. the next morning there was held in the city square a public meeting, attended by nearly every citizen, at which resolutions were passed denouncing the act of the kidnapers as an outrage; demanding for glover a trial by jury; promising "to attend in person to aid him, by all honorable means, to secure his unconditional release"; and, most significant of all, resolving that the people of racine "do hereby declare the slave catching law of disgraceful and also repealed." there were many such nullifying resolutions passed in those stirring days by mass meetings throughout the country, but this was one of the earliest and most outspoken. that afternoon, on hearing where glover had been imprisoned, a hundred indignant citizens of racine, headed by the sheriff, went by steamer to milwaukee, arriving there at five o'clock. meanwhile, milwaukee had been active. news of the capture had not been circulated in that city until eleven o'clock in the morning. one of the first to learn of it was sherman m. booth, the energetic editor of a small antislavery paper, the _wisconsin free democrat_. riding up and down the streets upon a horse, he scattered handbills, and, stopping at each crossing, shouted: "freemen, to the rescue! slave catchers are in our midst! be at the courthouse at two o'clock!" prompt to the hour, over five thousand people assembled in the courthouse square, where booth and several other "liberty men" made impassioned speeches. a vigilance committee was appointed, to see that glover had a fair trial, and the county judge issued in his behalf a writ of _habeas corpus_, calling for an immediate trial, and a show of proofs. but the federal judge, a. g. miller, forbade the sheriff to obey this writ, holding that glover must remain in the hands of the united states marshal, in whose custody he was placed by virtue of the fugitive slave law. the local militia were called out to suppress the disorder, but they were without power. it soon became noised about that glover was to be secretly removed to missouri. this made the mob furious. just at this time the racine contingent arrived, adding oil to the flames. the reënforced crowd now marched to the jail, attacked the weak structure with axes, beams, and crowbars, rescued the fugitive just at sunset, and hurried him off. an underground railroad agency took the poor fellow in charge, and soon placed him aboard a sailing vessel bound for canada, where he finally arrived in safety. throughout wisconsin the rescue was approved by the newspapers and public gatherings. sympathetic meetings were also held in other states, at which resolutions applauding the action of booth and his friends, and declaring the slave catching law unconstitutional, were passed with much enthusiasm. there was also held at milwaukee, in april, a notable state convention, with delegates from all of the settled parts of the commonwealth; this convention declared the law unconstitutional, and formed a state league for furnishing aid and sympathy to the glover rescuers. in , as a result of the glover affair, the wisconsin legislature passed an act making it a duty of district attorneys in each county "to use all lawful means to protect, defend, and procure to be discharged ... every person arrested or claimed as a fugitive slave," and throwing around the poor fellow every possible safeguard. such was wisconsin's final protest against the iniquity of the fugitive slave law. naturally, booth had been looked upon by the united states marshal as the chief abettor of the riot. he was promptly arrested for violating a federal law by aiding in the escape of a slave; but the state supreme court promptly discharged him on a writ of _habeas corpus_. thereupon he was brought before the federal court, but again the state court interfered in his favor, because of a technical irregularity. on the first of these occasions, the state court issued a very remarkable decision upon state rights, that attracted national attention at a time when this question was violently agitating the public mind. it declared, after a clear, logical statement of the case, that the fugitive slave law was "unconstitutional and void" because it conferred judicial power upon mere court commissioners, and deprived the accused negro of the right of trial by jury. one of the justices of the court, in an individual opinion, went still further: he held that congress had no power to legislate upon this subject; that "the states will never quietly submit to be disrobed of their sovereignty" by "national functionaries"; that the police power rested in the state itself, which would not "succumb, paralyzed and aghast, before the process of an officer unknown to the constitution, and irresponsible to its sanctions"; and that so long as he remained a judge, wisconsin would meet such attempts with "stern remonstrance and resistance." the federal court reversed this action, and again arrested booth in , but he was soon pardoned by the president, and met with no further trouble on account of the glover affair. as for the people of racine, they made life rather uncomfortable for the men who had assisted the milwaukee deputy marshals in arresting glover. the city became a fiercer hotbed of abolition than ever before, and several times thereafter aided slaves to escape from bondage. fortunately for their own good, as well as for the cause of law and order, they found no further occasion to take the law into their own hands, in the defense of human liberty. the story of a famous chief one of the best-known indians with whom wisconsin territorial pioneers were thrown into personal contact was oshkosh, the last of the menominee sachems, or peace chiefs. it is worth while briefly to relate the story of his career, because it was the life of a typical indian leader, at the critical time when the whites were coming into the country in such numbers as to crowd the reds to the wall. oshkosh was born in , at point bas, on the wisconsin river. cha-kau-cho-ka-ma (meaning old king), the peace chief of the menominees at that time, was his maternal grandfather. the war chief was glode, the orator of the tribe, and a mighty hunter. the old king lived until , but glode died in , his successor being tomah (the french pronunciation of thomas, his english name). in the war of - , a large band of wisconsin indians joined the ranks of tecumseh, in raiding upon the american borderers. the principal menominee chiefs were tomah, souligny, grizzly bear, and iometah, and among the young men was oshkosh. their first expedition was against fort mackinac, in , that stronghold being captured from the americans without bloodshed. among white men, such an enterprise would not seem to offer much opportunity for the display of personal bravery; but savage and civilized standards of courage differ, and young oshkosh appears to have satisfied the old men upon this occasion, so that he then received the name by which we know him, meaning in the menominee tongue, "brave." by the following may, oshkosh, now in his nineteenth year, and prominent among the young warriors, went out with souligny and tomah, and joined tecumseh in the siege of fort meigs at the rapids of the maumee river. later, during the same summer, he was engaged in the memorable british-indian siege of sandusky. the succeeding year he was one of a large party of menominees assisting the british to repel a fierce but futile american attempt to recapture fort mackinac. this was his last campaign, for peace between great britain and the united states soon followed. oshkosh, now living upon the lands of the tribe in northeastern wisconsin, appears to have passed a quiet existence, after his exploits of - . lacking the stimulus of war, he maintained a state of artificial excitement by the use of fire water, and soon won a bad reputation in this regard. but he was not wholly debased. few in council had more power than he. although he was slow to speak, his opinion when given had much weight, because of a firm, resolute tone, beside which the impassioned flights of tomah and souligny often failed in effect. when the old king died without any sons, a contest arose over the successorship to the chieftaincy. in many tribes there would have been no question about the election of oshkosh, for he was the son of old king's daughter; but the menominees did not recognize any heirship except through sons. so many claimants arose, each determined to fight for the position, that the united states government feared an outbreak of civil war within the tribe, with possible injuries to the neighboring white settlers. hence a court of claims was organized, to choose a chief among the contestants. this court, headed by governor lewis cass, of michigan territory, met at little butte des morts (near neenah) in august, , and selected oshkosh. cass, in the presence of the tribesmen, hung a medal about the neck of the victor, shook hands with him, and ordered a feast in honor of the event. the first five years of the reign of this dusky chieftain were peaceful enough, so far as relations with other tribes were concerned. but within the menominee villages there were frequent drunken frolics, which sometimes ended in bloodshed or in endless disputes between families; and in these disturbances, which often greatly alarmed the white settlers, oshkosh had his full share. when in june, , the great sac leader, black hawk, was harassing the settlements in northern illinois and southern wisconsin, while being slowly driven northward by the white troops, fears were entertained in the valley of the lower fox that he would turn toward green bay. with the hope of preventing this, a force of three hundred menominee indians was recruited there, and sent to the seat of war, officered by american and french residents. oshkosh headed his people, but arrived too late to do any fighting; black hawk had already been vanquished by white soldiers, at the battle of the bad ax. oshkosh and his braves found no more savage foe than a small party of sacs, old men and women and children, flying from the battlefield, and these they promptly massacred, proudly carrying the scalps back with them to green bay. four years later, the menominees sold all of their lands in wisconsin to the federal government, and were placed upon the reservation at keshena, where they still live. in , the little four-year-old white settlement at the junction of the upper fox with lake winnebago thought itself large enough to have a post office, hence the necessity for adopting a permanent name. the place had at first been known to travelers as stanley's tavern, because here a man named stanley ran a ferry across fox river, and kept a log hotel. then the green bay merchants fell into the habit of marking "athens" on boxes and bales which the boatmen carried up to stanley's. when the question arose over the name for the post office, there were several candidates, "osceola," "galeopolis," and "athens" being prominent. robert grignon, a french fur trader at grand butte des morts, desiring to be on good terms with his menominee neighbors, proposed "oshkosh." thereupon party spirit ran high. upon a day named, a popular election without distinction of race was held at the office of the justice of the peace, who provided a free dinner to the voters; among them were a score of indians, brought in by grignon. several ballots were taken, between which speeches were made in behalf of the rivals. "oshkosh" finally won, chiefly by the votes of grignon's indians. harmony was soon restored, and the election ended in drink and smoke, after the fashion of border gatherings in those days. we hear little more of old chief oshkosh, until fifteen years later. in the year occurred a kidnaping case, which became famous in the frontier annals of wisconsin. nahkom, a menominee squaw, was accused of having stolen a little white boy, the son of alvin partridge, of the town of neenah, in winnebago county. the indians stoutly denied the truth of this accusation; indeed, partridge himself failed to recognize his lost son in the person of nahkom's boy. but the relatives and neighbors of partridge were confident as to the identity, and the bereaved father was induced to ask aid of the courts in obtaining the child. the case hung fire for three years, the courts always deciding in favor of nahkom, although partridge regained temporary possession of the boy under writs of _habeas corpus_. finally, pending the decision of a milwaukee judge upon the application for a writ, the little fellow was placed in the jail of that city. from there the partridges kidnaped him and fled to kansas, leaving poor nahkom childless, for undoubtedly it was a case of mistaken identity, and the child was really hers. ultimately the boy was found and restored to her. this was in . oshkosh and a number of menominee headmen went at once to milwaukee, upon learning of the jail delivery, and laid their complaints before the judge. recognizing the press as a medium of communication with the public, oshkosh and souligny also visited the editor of the _sentinel_, asking him to state their grievance and plead their cause. the speech which oshkosh made to the editor was given in full in that paper, and is a good specimen of the direct, earnest method in indian oratory. he said, among other things: "governor dodge told us that our great father [the president] was very strong, and owned all the country; and that no one would dare to trouble us, or do us wrong, as he would protect us. he told us, too, that whenever we got into difficulty or anything happened we did not like, to call on our great father and he would see justice done. and now we come to you to remind our great father, through your paper, of his promise, and to ask him to fulfil it.... we thought our child safe in the jail in the care of the officers; that none could get the child away from them unless the law gave them the right. we cannot but think it must have been an evil spirit that got into the jail and took away our child. we thought the white man's law strong, and are sorry to find it so weak." upon the conclusion of his visit, oshkosh and his friends returned to their reservation, determined never again to mingle with the deceitful and grasping whites. upon their way home to keshena, oshkosh stopped at the thriving little city which had been christened for him, and expressed pride at having so large a namesake. it was his first and only visit. three years later he died in a drunken brawl, aged sixty-three years. he was a good indian, as savages go, his chief vice being one borrowed from the whites, who forced themselves upon his lands and contaminated him and his people. a fight for the governorship between the time when wisconsin became a state ( ), and the opening of the war of secession ( ), party feeling ran high within the new commonwealth. charges of corruption against public officials were freely made; many men sought office for the plunder supposed to be obtained by those "inside the ring"; newspaper editors appeared to be chiefly engaged in savage attacks on the reputations of those who differed from them, and general political demoralization was prevalent. when, however, important issues arose out of the discussions of the strained relations between north and south, a higher and more patriotic tone was at once evident, and this has ever since been maintained in wisconsin politics. the most striking event of the years of petty partisan strife which preceded the war, was the fight for the governorship of the state, between william a. barstow and coles bashford. barstow, a democrat from waukesha county, had been secretary of state during governor dewey's second term ( - ). owing to bitterness occasioned by the rejection of the first state constitution, the democratic party in wisconsin was torn into factions, at the head of one of which was barstow. while serving as secretary of state, he made many enemies, who freely accused him of rank official dishonesty, and associated him with the corrupt methods of the early railway companies which were just then seeking charters from the legislature. nevertheless, like all strong, positive men, he had won for himself warm friends, who secured his election as governor for the year - . [illustration: coles bashford] his enemies, however, grew in number, and their accusations increased in bitterness. his party renominated him for governor; but he had lost ground during the term, and could not draw out his full party strength in the november election of . besides, the new republican party, although as yet in the minority, was making rapid strides, and voted solidly for its nominee, bashford, a winnebago county lawyer. as a result, the voting for governor proved so close that for a full month no one knew the outcome. meanwhile there was, of course, much popular excitement, with charges of fraud on both sides. [illustration: william a. barstow] finally, in december, the state board of canvassers met at madison. it consisted of the secretary of state, the state treasurer, and the attorney-general, all of them barstow men. their report was that he had received one hundred fifty-seven more votes than his opponent. the republicans at once advanced the serious charge that the canvassers had deliberately forged supplemental returns from several counties, pretending to receive them upon the day before the count. large numbers of people soon came to believe that fraud had been committed, and bashford prepared for a contest. upon the day in early january when barstow was inaugurated at the capitol, with the usual military display, bashford stepped into the supreme court room and was quietly sworn in by the chief justice. thereupon bashford appealed to the court to turn barstow out, and declare him the rightful governor. there followed a most remarkable lawsuit. the constitution provides that the state government shall consist of three branches, legislative, judicial, and executive. it was claimed that never before in the history of any of the states in the union had one branch of the government been called upon to decide between rival claimants to a position in another branch. barstow's lawyers, of course, denied the jurisdiction of the court to pass upon the right of the governor to hold his seat; for, they argued, if this were possible, then the judiciary would be superior to the people, and no one could hold office to whom the judges were not friendly. there was a fierce struggle, for several weeks, between the opposing lawyers, who were among the most learned men of the state, with the result that the court decided that it had jurisdiction; and, on nearly every point raised, ruled in favor of the bashford men. before the decision of the case, barstow and his lawyers withdrew, declaring that the judges were influenced against them by political prejudices. however, the court proceeded without them, and declared that the election returns had been tampered with, and that bashford really had one thousand nine majority. he was accordingly declared to have been elected governor. this conclusion had been expected by barstow, who, determined not to be put out of office, resigned his position three days before the court rendered its decision. immediately upon barstow's resignation, his friend, the lieutenant governor, arthur mcarthur, took possession of the office. he claimed that he was now the rightful governor, for the constitution provides that in the event of the resignation, death, or inability of the governor, the lieutenant governor shall succeed him. but the supreme court at once ruled that, as barstow's title was worthless, mcarthur could not succeed to it, a logical view of the case which the barstow sympathizers had not foreseen. it was upon monday, march the th, that the court rendered its decision. bashford announced that he would take possession of the office upon tuesday. there had been great popular uneasiness in madison and the neighboring country, throughout the long struggle, and the decision brought this excitement to a crisis. many of the adherents of both contestants armed themselves and drilled, in anticipation of an encounter which might lead to civil war within the state. there were frequent wordy quarrels upon the streets, and threats of violence; and many supposed that it would be impossible to prevent the opposing factions from fighting in good earnest. affairs were in this critical condition upon the fateful tuesday. early in the day people began to arrive in madison from the surrounding country, as if for a popular fête. the streets and the capitol grounds were filled with excited men, chiefly adherents of bashford; they cheered him loudly as he emerged from the supreme court room, at eleven o'clock, accompanied by the sheriff of the county, who held in his hand the order which awarded the office to bashford. passing through the corridors of the capitol, now crowded with his friends, bashford and the sheriff rapped upon the door of the governor's office. mcarthur and several of his friends were inside; a voice bade the callers enter. the new governor was a large, pleasant-looking man. leisurely taking off his coat and hat, he hung them in the wardrobe, and calmly informed mcarthur that he had come to occupy the governor's chair. "is force to be used in supporting the order of the court?" indignantly asked the incumbent, as, glancing through the open door, he caught sight of the eager, excited crowd of bashford's friends, whose leaders with difficulty restrained them from at once crowding into the room. "i presume," blandly replied bashford, "that no force will be essential; but in case any is needed, there will be no hesitation whatever in applying it, with the sheriff's help." mcarthur at once calmed down, said that he "considered this threat as constructive force," and promptly left his rival in possession. as he hurried out, through rows of his political enemies, the corridors were ringing with shouts of triumph; and in a few moments bashford was shaking hands with the crowd, who, in the highest glee, swarmed through his office. the legislature was divided in political sentiment. the senate received the new governor's message with enthusiasm, and by formal resolution congratulated him upon his success. the assembly at first refused, thirty-eight to thirty-four, to have anything to do with him; but upon thirty of the democrats withdrawing, after filing a protest against the action of the court, the house agreed, thirty-seven to nine, to recognize governor bashford. thereafter he had no trouble at the helm of state. our foreign-born citizens it is probable that no other state in the union contains so many varieties of europeans as does wisconsin. about seventeen per cent of our entire population were born in germany; next in numbers come the scandinavians, natives of great britain, irish, canadians, poles, bohemians, hollanders, russians, and french. these different nationalities are scattered all over the state; often they are found grouped in very large neighborhoods. sometimes one of these groups is so large that, with the american-born children, it occupies entire townships, and practically controls the local churches and schools, which are generally conducted in the foreign tongue. there are extensive german, scandinavian, and welsh farming districts in our state where one may travel far without hearing english spoken by any one. some crowded quarters of milwaukee are wholly german in custom and language; and there are other streets in that city where few but poles, bohemians, or russians can be found. although these foreign-born people, as is quite natural, generally cling with tenacity to the language, the religion, and many of the customs in which they were reared, it is noticeable that all of them are eager to learn our methods of government, and to become good citizens; and their children, when allowed to mingle freely with the youth of this country, become so thoroughly americanized that little if any difference can be distinguished between them and those whose forefathers have lived here for several generations past. there is, however, hardly a family in wisconsin which is not of european origin. some of us are descended from ancestors who chanced to come to the new world at an earlier period than did the ancestors of others of our fellow-citizens; that is all that distinguishes these "old american families" from those more recently transplanted. it is a very interesting study to watch the gradual evolution of a new american race from the mingling on our soil of so many different nationalities, just as the english race itself was slowly built up from the old britons, saxons, norsemen, and norman french. but we must remember that this "race amalgamation," although now proceeding upon a larger scale than was probably ever witnessed before, has always been going on in america since the earliest colonial days, when english, french, hollanders, swedes, scotch, and irish were fused as in a melting pot, for the production of the american types that we meet to-day. a variety of reasons induced foreigners to come to wisconsin in such large numbers; they may, however, be classified under three heads, political, economic, and religious. the political reason was dissatisfaction with the government at home, chiefly because it repressed all aspiration for liberty and forced young men to sacrifice several of the best years of their lives by spending them in the army. the most powerful economic reason was inability to earn a satisfactory living in the fatherland, because worn-out soils, low prices for produce, overcrowding of population, and excessive competition among workmen resulted in starvation wages. the religious reason was the disposition of european monarchs to interfere with men's right to worship god as they pleased. in there were serious political troubles in germany, and thousands of dissatisfied people emigrated from that country to america. many of the newcomers were young professional men of fine education and lofty ideals. in those early days american society was somewhat crude, especially upon the frontier. these spirited young germans complained that, both in religion and politics, the life of our people was sordid and low, with little appreciation for the higher things of life; and especially did they resent our popular lack of appreciation of their countrymen. therefore, in , there was formed in new york a society called "germania," which was to induce enough germans to settle in some one of the american states to be able to gain control of it and make it a german state, with german life and manners, with german schools, literature, and art, with german courts and assemblies, and with german as the official language. a great deal of discussion followed, as to which state should be chosen; some preferred texas, others oregon, but most of the members wished some state in what was then called the northwest, between the great lakes and the mississippi river. the society disbanded without result; but the agitation to which it gave rise was continued throughout many years on both sides of the ocean. wisconsin was strongly favored by most of the german writers on immigration, especially about the time that it became prominent through being admitted to the union ( ). nothing came of all this agitation for a german state, except the very wide advertising which wisconsin obtained in germany, as a state admirably suited for germans, in soil, climate, liberal constitution, and low prices for lands, and as possessing social attractions for them, because it had early obtained an unusually large german population. the counties near milwaukee were the first to receive german settlers. this movement began about , and was very rapid. soon after that, sauk and dane counties became the favorites for new arrivals. next, immigrants from germany went to the southwestern counties, about mineral point, and northward into the region about lake winnebago and the fox river. by they had spread into buffalo county, and along the mississippi river; but since they have chiefly gone into the north central regions of the state, generally preferring forest lands to prairies. the first arrivals were mainly from the valley of the rhine; next in order, came people from southern germany; but the bulk of the settlers are from the northern and middle provinces of their native land. the principal swiss groups in wisconsin are in green, buffalo, sauk, fond du lac, and taylor counties. that at new glarus, in green county, is one of the most interesting. in the sterile little mountainous canton of glarus, in switzerland, there was, about , much distress because of over population; the tillable land was insufficient to raise food for all the people. it was, therefore, resolved by them to send some of their number to america, as a colony. two scouts were first dispatched, in the spring of , with instructions to find a climate, a soil, and general characteristics as nearly like switzerland as possible. these agents had many adventures as they wandered through ohio, indiana, and illinois, before finally selecting green county, wisconsin, as the place best suited for their people. it was supposed that those left behind would wait until a report could be sent back to them. but one hundred ninety-three of the intending emigrants soon became restless, and started for america only a month later than the advance guard. the party had a long and very disagreeable journey, down the rhine river to the seaport, where after many sore trials they obtained a vessel to take them across the atlantic. this ship was intended for the accommodation of only one hundred forty passengers; but nearly two hundred crowded into it, and had a tempestuous and generally disheartening passage of forty-nine days, with insufficient food. at last, reaching baltimore, they proceeded by canal boat to the foot of the alleghanies, crossed the mountains by a crude railway, and then embarked in a steamer down the ohio river, bound for st. louis. after their arrival at that city, there ensued a long and vexatious search for the scouts, who, not expecting them, had left few traces behind. but perseverance finally won, and by the middle of august all of these weary colonists were reunited in the promised land of new glarus, five thousand miles away from their native valleys. the experience of the first few years was filled with privations, because these poor swiss, fresh from narrow fields and small shops at home, did not comprehend the larger american methods of farming, with horse and plow. but, by the kindness of their american neighbors, they finally learned their rude lessons; and, soon adopting the profitable business of manufacturing swiss cheese, by thrift and industry they in time succeeded in making of new glarus one of the most prosperous agricultural regions in wisconsin. it is estimated that in green county there are now eight thousand persons of swiss birth, or the descendants of swiss, about one-third of the entire population. the language which they still use in business affairs is the german-swiss dialect. [illustration: first norwegian church] the first norwegian immigrants to america arrived in , after some strange adventures on the ocean, and settled in the state of new york; this was before wisconsin was ready for settlers. from to , thousands of norwegians came to illinois and wisconsin, their first settlement in wisconsin being made in , in the town of albion, dane county. they are now scattered quite generally over the state, in large groups, with hundreds of ministers and churches, and many newspapers; but they are still strongest in dane county, where, probably, there are not less than fourteen thousand who were either born in norway or are the children of norwegian-born parents. the belgians are closely massed in certain towns of door, kewaunee, and brown counties, in the northeastern portion of the state. the beginning of their immigration was in , when ten families of the province of brabant, in belgium, determined to move to america, where they could win a better support for themselves, and suitably educate their children. the vessel in which they crossed the atlantic was forty-eight days in sailing from antwerp to new york, the passage being tedious and rough, accompanied by several terrific hurricanes. the poor pilgrims suffered from hunger and thirst, as well as sickness, and lost one of their number by death. it was while on board ship that the majority decided to settle in wisconsin, and upon landing, hither they promptly came. arriving in milwaukee, they knew not what part of the state was best suited for them; but began to prospect for land, and finally settled near green bay, simply because a large portion of the population of that village could speak french, which was their own language. at first they had determined to locate near sheboygan, but were annoyed at not being able to make themselves understood by the inhabitants of that place. the little band of belgians was at last established within rude log huts, in the heart of a dense forest, ten miles from any other human habitation, without roads or bridges, or even horses or cattle. they experienced the worst possible inconveniences and hardships naturally appertaining to life in the frontier woods, and for the first year or two the colony seemed in a desperate condition. its hopeful members, however, hiding their present misery, sent cheerful letters home, and enticed their old neighbors either to join them, or to form new settlements in the neighborhood. in due time, the belgians of northeastern wisconsin became prosperous farmers and merchants. similar tales might be related, of the great difficulties and hardships bravely overcome by several other foreign groups in wisconsin: for instance, the poles, the dutch, the welsh, the bohemians, the cornishmen of the lead-mine region, and the icelandic fishermen of lonely washington island. but the foregoing will suffice to show of what sturdy stuff our foreign-born peoples are made, and cause us to rejoice that such material has gone into the upbuilding of our commonwealth. swept by fire before the great inrush of agricultural settlers, in , most of the surface of wisconsin was covered with dense forests. in the northern portion of the state, pines, hemlocks, and spruce predominated, mingled with large areas of hard wood; elsewhere, hard wood chiefly prevailed, the forests in the southern and eastern portions being frequently broken by large prairies and by small treeless "openings." in the great northern pine woods, lumbermen have been busy for many years. they leave in their wake great wastes of land, some of it covered with dead branches from the trees that have been felled and trimmed; some so sterile that the sun, now allowed to enter, in a rainless summer bakes the earth and dries the spongy swamps; while all about are great masses of dead stumps, blasted trunks, and other forest débris. settlers soon pour in, purchase the best of this cut-over land, and clear the ground for farms. but there are still left in wisconsin great stretches of deforested country, as yet unsettled; some of these areas are worthless except for growing new forests, an enterprise which, some day, the state government will undertake for the benefit of the commonwealth. now and then, in dry seasons, great fires start upon these "pine barrens," or "slashings," as they are called, and spread until often they cause great loss to life and property. these conflagrations originate in many ways, chiefly from the carelessness of hunters or indians, in their camps, or from sparks from locomotives, or bonfires built by farmers for the destruction of rubbish. nearly every summer and autumn these forest fires occur more or less frequently in northern wisconsin, working much damage in their neighborhoods; but usually they exhaust themselves when they reach a swamp, a river, or cleared fields. when, however, there has been an exceptionally long period of drought, everything in the cut-over lands becomes excessively dry; the light, thin soil, filled with dead roots and encumbered by branches and stumps, becomes as inflammable as tinder; the dried-up marshes generate explosive gases. the roaring flames, once started in such a season, are fanned by the winds which the heat generates, and, gathering strength, roll forward with resistless impetus; dense, resinous forest growths succumb before their assault, rivers are leaped by columns of fire, and everything goes down before the destroyer. in a holocaust of this character, all ordinary means of fire fighting are in vain; the houses and barns of settlers feed the devouring giant, whole towns are swept away, until at last the flames either find nothing further upon which to feed, or are quenched by a storm of rain. the most disastrous forest conflagration which wisconsin has known, occurred during the th and th of october, . there had been a winter with little snow, and a long, dry summer. fires had been noticed in the pine forests which line the shores of green bay, as early as the first week in september. at first they did not create much alarm; they smouldered along the ground through the vegetable mold, underbrush, and "slashings," occasionally eating out the roots of a great tree, which, swayed by the wind, would topple over with a roar, and send skyward a shower of sparks. gradually the "fire belt" broadened, and, finding better fuel, the flames strengthened; the swamps began to burn, to a depth of several feet; over hundreds of square miles the air was thick and stifling with smoke, so that the sun at noonday appeared like a great copper ball set on high; at night the heavens were lurid. miles of burning woods were everywhere to be seen; hundreds of haystacks in the meadows, and great piles of logs and railroad ties and telegraph poles were destroyed. for many weeks the towns along the bay shore were surrounded by cordons of threatening flame. the people of pensaukee, oconto, little suamico, sturgeon bay, peshtigo, and scores of other settlements, were frequently called out by the fire bells to fight the insidious enemy; many a time were they apparently doomed to destruction, but constant vigilance and these occasional skirmishes for a time saved them. reports now began to come in, thick and fast, of settlers driven from blazing homes, of isolated sawmills and lumber camps destroyed, of bridges consumed, of thrilling escapes by lumbermen and farmers. on sunday, the th of october, a two days' carnival of death began. in brown, kewaunee, oconto, door, manitowoc, and shawano counties the flames, suddenly rising, swept everything within their path. where thriving, prosperous villages once had stood, blackened wastes appeared. over a thousand lives were lost, nearly as many persons were crippled, and three thousand were in a few hours reduced to beggary. the horrors of the scenes at new franken, peshtigo, and the sugar bush, in particular, were such as cannot be described. this appalling tragedy chanced to occur at the same time as vast prairie fires in minnesota, and the terrible conflagration which destroyed chicago. the civilized world stood aghast at the broad extent of the field of needed relief; nevertheless, the frenzied appeals for aid, issued in behalf of the wisconsin fire sufferers, met with as generous a response as if they alone, in that fateful month of october, were the recipients of the nation's bounty. train loads of clothing and provisions, from nearly every state in the union, soon poured into green bay, which was the center of distribution; the united states government made large gifts of clothing and rations; nearly two hundred thousand dollars were raised, and expended under official control; and great emergency hospitals were opened at various points, for the treatment of sick and wounded. as for the actual financial loss to the people of the burned district, that could never be estimated. the soil was, in many places, burned to the depth of several feet, nothing being left but sand and ashes; grass roots were destroyed; bridges and culverts were gone; houses, barns, cattle, tools, seed, and crops were no more. it was several years before the region began again to exhibit signs of prosperity. in the year , forest fires of an appalling magnitude once more visited wisconsin, this time in the northwestern corner of the state. again had there been an exceptionally dry winter, spring, and summer. the experience gained by lumbermen and forest settlers had made them more cautious than before, and more expert in the fighting of fires; but that year was one in which no human knowledge seemed to avail against the progress of flames once started on their career of devastation. during the summer, several fires had burned over large areas. by the last week of july, it was estimated that five million dollars' worth of standing pine had been destroyed. the burned and burning area was now over fifty miles in width, the northern limit being some forty miles south of superior. upon the th of the month, the prosperous town of phillips, wholly surrounded by deforested lands, was suddenly licked up by the creeping flames, the terrified inhabitants escaping by the aid of a railway train. neighboring towns, which suffered to a somewhat less degree, were mason, barronett, and shell lake. in wisconsin was again a heavy sufferer from the same cause. the fires were chiefly in barron county, upon the th and th of september. two hundred fifty-eight families were left destitute, and the loss to land and property was estimated at $ , . relief agencies were established in various cities of the state, and our people responded as liberally to the urgent call for help as they had in and . a more competent official system of scientifically caring for our forests, restricting the present wasteful cutting of timber, and preventing and fighting forest fires, would be of incalculable benefit to the state of wisconsin. the annual loss by burning is alone a terrible drain upon the resources of the people, to say nothing of the death and untold misery which stalk in the wake of a forest fire. badgers in war time the men of wisconsin who had fought and conquered the hard conditions of frontier life, developing a raw wilderness into a wealthy and progressive commonwealth, were of the sort to make the best of soldiers when called upon to take up arms in behalf of the nation. from the earliest days of the war of secession until its close, wisconsin troops were ever upon the firing line, and participated in some of the noblest victories of the long and painful struggle. general sherman, in his "memoirs," paid them this rare tribute: "we estimated a wisconsin regiment equal to an ordinary brigade." it is impracticable in one brief chapter to do more than mention a few of the most brilliant achievements of the badger troops. in april, , the fourteenth, sixteenth, and eighteenth wisconsin infantry regiments, although new in the service, won imperishable laurels upon the bloody field of shiloh. the men of the fourteenth were especially prominent in the fray. arriving on the ground at midnight of the first day, they passed the rest of the night in a pelting rain, standing ankle-deep in mud; and throughout all the next day fought as though they were hardened veterans. a kentucky regiment was ordered to charge a confederate battery, but fell back in confusion; whereupon general grant asked if the fourteenth wisconsin could do the work. its colonel cried, "we will try!" and then followed one of the most gallant charges of the entire war. thrice driven back, the wisconsin men finally captured the battery; confusion ensued in the confederate ranks, and very soon the battle of shiloh was a union victory. in the peninsular campaign of the same year, the fifth regiment made a bayonet charge which routed and scattered the confederates, and turned the scales in favor of the north. in an address to the regiment two days later, general mcclellan declared: "through you we won the day, and williamsburg shall be inscribed on your banner. your country owes you its grateful thanks." his report to the war department describes this charge as "brilliant in the extreme." some of the highest honors of the war were awarded to the gallant iron brigade, composed of the second, sixth, and seventh wisconsin, the nineteenth indiana, and the twenty-fourth michigan. at gainesville, in the shenandoah valley campaign, also in , this brigade practically won the fight, the brunt of the confederate assault being met by the second wisconsin, which that day lost sixty per cent of its rank and file; the brigade itself suffered a loss of nine hundred men. the third opened the battle at cedar mountain, and very soon after that was at antietam, where it lost two-thirds of the men it took into action. the fifth also was prominent near by, and the iron brigade, behind a rail fence, conducted a fight which was one of the chief events of the engagement. at the battle of corinth, several wisconsin regiments and four of her batteries won some of the brightest honors. in the various official reports of the action, such comments as the following are frequent: "this regiment (the fourteenth) was the one to rely upon in every emergency;" a fearless dash by the seventeenth regiment, one general described as "the most glorious charge of the campaign"; there was an allusion to the eighteenth's "most effectual service"; in referring to the sixth battery, mention is made in the reports, of "its noble work." at chaplin hills, in kentucky, a few days later, the first wisconsin drove back the enemy several times, and captured a stand of confederate colors. the tenth was seven hours under fire, and lost fifty-four per cent of its number. general rousseau highly praised both regiments, saying, "these brave men are entitled to the gratitude of the country." the fifteenth captured heavy stores of ammunition and many prisoners; the twenty-fifth repulsed, with withering fire, a superior force of the enemy, who had suddenly assaulted them while lying in a cornfield; and the fifth battery three times turned back a confederate charge, "saving the division," as general mccook reported, "from a disgraceful defeat." at prairie grove, in arkansas, at fredericksburg, and at stone river, still later in the campaign of , wisconsin soldiers exhibited what general sherman described as "splendid conduct, bravery, and efficiency." men of wisconsin were also prominent in the army of the potomac, during the famous "mud campaign" of the early months of . at the crossing of the rappahannock, theirs was the dangerous duty to protect the makers of the pontoon bridges. in the course of this service, the iron brigade made a splendid dash across the river, charged up the opposite heights, and at the point of the bayonet routed the confederates who were intrenched in rifle pits. at chancellorsville, the third wisconsin, detailed to act as a barrier to the advance of the confederates under stonewall jackson, was the last to leave the illfated field. at fredericksburg, not far away, the fifth wisconsin and the sixth maine led a desperate charge up marye's hill, where, in a sunken roadway, lay a large force of the enemy; this force, a few months before, had killed six thousand union men who were vainly attempting to rout them. this second and final charge overcame all difficulties, and succeeded. as the confederate commander handed to the colonel of the wisconsin regiment his sword and silver spurs, he told the victor that he had supposed there were not enough troops in the army of the potomac to carry the position; it was, he declared, the most daring assault he had ever seen. such, too, was the judgment of greeley, who declared that "braver men never smiled on death than those who climbed marye's hill on that fatal day." the correspondent of the _london times_ also wrote, "never at fontenoy, albuera, nor at waterloo was more undaunted courage displayed." in the campaign which resulted in the fall of vicksburg, in , numerous wisconsin regiments participated, many of them with conspicuous gallantry. it was an officer of the twenty-third who received, at the base of the works, the offer of the confederates to surrender. the part taken by wisconsin troops at gettysburg, was conspicuous. the iron brigade and a wisconsin company of sharpshooters were, day by day, in the thickest of the fight, and gained a splendid record. at chickamauga, several of our regiments fought under general thomas, and lost heavily. they afterward participated in the struggle at mission ridge, which resulted in the confederate army under bragg being turned back into central georgia. the iron brigade was in grant's campaign against richmond, serving gallantly in the battles of the wilderness, in the "bloody angle" at spottsylvania, at fair oaks, and in the numerous attacks before petersburg. wisconsin contributed heavily to the army of sherman, in his "march to the sea," and in the preliminary contests won distinction on many a bitterly contested field. several of our regiments were in the assault on mobile, the day when lee was surrendering to grant, in far-off virginia. others of the badger troops, infantry and cavalry, served in louisiana, texas, and arkansas, fighting the confederate guerillas, while our artillerymen were distributed throughout the several union armies, and served gallantly until the last days of the war. wisconsin soldiers languished in most of the great southern military prisons. a thrilling escape of union men from libby prison, at richmond, was made in february, , by means of a secret tunnel. this was ingeniously excavated under the superintendence of a party of which colonel h. c. hobart of the twenty-first wisconsin was a leader. another notable event of the war, of which a wisconsin man was the hero, occurred during the night of the th of october, . the confederate armored ram _albemarle_, after having sunk several union vessels, was anchored off plymouth, north carolina, a town which was being attacked by federal troops and ships. lieutenant w. b. cushing of delafield, waukesha county, proceeded to the _albemarle_ in a small launch, under cover of the dark; and, in the midst of a sharp fire from the crew of the ram, placed a torpedo under her bow and blew her up. the daring young officer escaped to his ship, amid appalling difficulties, having won worldwide renown by his splendid feat. the saving of the union fleet in the red river was an incident which attracted national attention to still another wisconsin man. the expedition up the river, into the heart of the enemy's country, was a failure, and immediate retreat inevitable. but the water had lowered, and the fleet of gunboats found it impossible to descend the rapids at alexandria. the enemy were swarming upon the banks, and the situation was so hazardous that it seemed as if the army would find it necessary to desert the vessels. lieutenant colonel joseph bailey of the fourth wisconsin infantry, serving as chief engineer on general franklin's staff, proposed to dam the river, then suddenly make an opening, and allow the boats to emerge with the outrush of imprisoned water. the plan is a familiar one to wisconsin lumbermen, in getting logs over shoals; but it was new to the other officers, and bailey was laughed at as a visionary. however, the situation was so desperate that he was allowed to try his experiment. it succeeded admirably; the fleet, worth nearly two millions of dollars, was saved, and the expedition emerged from the trap in good order. bailey was made a brigadier general, and the grateful naval officers presented him with a valuable sword and vase. no account of wisconsin's part in the war of secession should, however brief, omit reference to a conspicuous participant, "old abe," the war eagle of the eighth regiment. he was captured by an indian, on the flambeau river, a branch of the chippewa, and until the close of the long struggle was carried on a perch by his owners, the men of company c. he was an eyewitness of thirty-six battles and skirmishes, and accompanied his regiment upon some of the longest marches of the war. frequently he was hit by the enemy's bullets, but never was daunted, his habit in times of action being to pose upon his perch or a cannon, screaming lustily, and frequently holding in his bill the corner of a flag. no general in the great struggle achieved a wider celebrity than "old abe." until his death, in , he was exhibited in all parts of the country, at state and national soldiers' reunions, and at fairs held for their benefit. at the great sanitary fair in chicago, in , it is said that the sales of his photographs brought $ , to the soldiers' relief fund. upon the opening of the spanish-american war, in april, , wisconsin's militia system was one of the best in the country, and its quota of volunteers was made up from these companies. the first regiment was sent to camp cuba libre, at jacksonville, florida; the second and third to camp thomas, at chickamauga; and the fourth, at first to the state military camp at camp douglas, and later to camp shipp, alabama. the first was the earliest raised, and the best equipped, but its colonel's commission was not so old as those held by the other regimental commanders from this state; therefore, when two wisconsin regiments were to be sent in july to puerto rico, the second and third were selected, leaving the first reluctantly to spend its entire time in camp. after the war, it had been intended to detail the fourth, not mustered in until late in the struggle, to join the american army of occupation in the west indies; but, owing to the fact that a large percentage of the men were suffering from camp diseases, they were finally mustered out without leaving the country. the second and third had an interesting experience in puerto rico. arriving at the port of guamico upon the th of july, they took a prominent part in the bloodless capture of the neighboring city of ponce. this task completed, they were detailed, with the sixteenth pennsylvania, to form the advance guard of the army, which prepared at once to sweep the island from south to north. our men were almost daily under fire, particularly in road clearing skirmishes under general roy stone. two days after the landing at guamico, lieutenant perry cochrane, of eau claire, an officer of the third, was sent forward with seventeen other eau claire men, to open up the railway line leading to the little village of yauco, lying about twenty miles westward of ponce, and to capture that place. the track and the bridges had been wrecked by the fleeing enemy, so that cochrane's party endured much peril and fatigue before they reached their destination; and yauco was not disposed to succumb to this handful of men. cochrane successfully held his own, however, until the following day, when reënforcements arrived. a few days after the fall of ponce, the sheboygan company was acting as guard to a detachment repairing the san juan road, several miles out of town. hearing that a party of spanish soldiers had taken a stand at lares, eighteen miles away, a detail was sent with a flag of truce, to treat with them. the squad consisted of lieutenant bodemer, four privates, and a bugler. the spaniards were not in a pleasant frame of mind, and but for their officers would have made short shrift of the visitors, despite the peaceful flag which they bore. finally, the spaniards agreed to receive a deputation of native puerto ricans, and talk the matter over with them. our men withdrew, and sent natives in their stead; but the latter were treacherously assaulted, and only one of them escaped to tell the story. upon the th of august, there was a sharp fight at coamo. both of our regiments were actively employed in this encounter, and were of the troops which finally raised the american flag over the town walls. the final engagement was fought two days later, at the mountain pass of asomanta, near aibonito, where spanish troops were centered. the second wisconsin was the last american regiment in this fight, and lost two killed and three wounded. these were wisconsin's only field losses during the war, although her deaths from camp diseases were about seventy. index albanel, father charles, . albion, . algonkin tribes, , . allouez, father claude, , - , , . american fur company, , , . andré, father louis, . apostle islands, . appleton, , . ashland, , . astor, john jacob, . atkinson, general henry, , - . aztalan, , . bad ax river, , , , . badger state, origin of term, . bailey, colonel joseph, , . baraga, father frederick, . barron county, . barronett, . barstow, colonel william a., - . bashford, governor coles, - . bayfield, . beaubassin, hertel de, french commandant, . beaver island, , . belgians in wisconsin, , . belleview, . belmont, , . berlin, , . bill cross rapids, . black hawk, sac chief, . black hawk war, , - . black river, , - , . bohemians in wisconsin, , . bois brulé river, , , , . booth, sherman m., - . brisbois, michel, . brothertown indians, , , . brown county, , . buffalo county, . bulger, captain alfred, . burlington, . butte des morts, grand, , , . butte des morts, little, , . cadotte, jean baptiste, . cadotte, michel, . calvé, joseph, . cass, governor lewis, . cassville, . ceresco phalanx, - . cha-kau-cho-ka-ma (old king), , . champlain, samuel de, , , , , , . chardon, father jean b., . chase, warren, . chelsea, . chequamegon bay, , , , , , , , - . chippewa indians, , , , , , , , , , . chippewa river, , . clark, general george rogers, - , . clark, general william, . cochrane, lieutenant perry, , . copper mines, . copper river, . cornish in wisconsin, . crawford county, . cushing, lieutenant w. b., , . dakotan tribes, . dane county, , , . davis, jefferson, . delafield, . de louvigny, french captain, , . de pere, , , , , - , , . dewey, governor nelson, , , . dickson, robert, , . dodge, major henry, , , . door county, , , , . doty, governor james d., , , . doty's island, . dubuque, julien, , . ducharme, jean marie, . duck creek, . duluth, daniel graysolon, , , , - . dutch in wisconsin, , . eau claire, . eau claire county, . eau claire river, . eau pleine river, . embarrass river, . english in wisconsin, - , - , - , . enjalran, father jean, , . equaysayway, chippewa maid, . flambeau river, . fond du lac, , . fond du lac county, , , . fort crawford, , . fort edward augustus, . fort howard, , . fort mckay, , . fort perrot, . fort st. antoine, . fort st. francis, . fort st. nicholas, . fort shelby, - . fort snelling, , - . fort winnebago, . fox indians (outagamies), , , , , - , . fox river, , , , , - , , , - , , , , , , , , , , , - , , , , , , , , , , . french in wisconsin, , - , , , - , - , , , . _see_, also, fur trade. frontenac, governor of new france, , , . fur trade in wisconsin, - , , , - , , , , , , - , , , , , - , , , , , , , , . gagnier, registre, , . galena, illinois, , , , , . galena river, . gautier, charles, , , . germans in wisconsin, , , . glode, indian chief, . glover, joshua, - . gorrell, lieutenant james, - , . grand portage, . green bay, , , , , , , , , , , , , , - , , , - , - , , - , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . green county, - . grignon, robert, . grizzly bear, indian chief, . groseilliers, médard chouart des, - , , , , , . hall, rev. sherman, . harrison, governor william h., . helena, . hennepin, father louis, , . henry, general james d., . hesse, english captain, . hobart, colonel h. c., . hudson bay company, , , . huron indians, , - , - , , , , . icelanders in wisconsin, . illinois indians, , , - . indians, as mound builders, - , ; life and manners of, - ; pottery, ; copper and stone implements, , . _see_, also, the several tribes. iometah, indian chief, . iowa county, . irish in wisconsin, . iron brigade, - . iroquois indians, , , , , , , , . janesville, . jesuit missionaries in wisconsin, , , , , , , - , , , , . johnson, colonel james, . johnson, john, . joliet, louis, , , - , , , . joseph, fur-trade clerk, . kaukauna, , , . kenosha, . keokuk, sac chief, . keshena, , . kewaunee county, , . kiala, fox chief, . kickapoo indians, , , , . kickapoo river, . koshkonong, . la crosse, , , . la crosse county, . lafayette county, . lake chetek, . lake court oreilles, , , . lake flambeau, , , . lake koshkonong, . lake michigan, , , , , , , , , - , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . lake pepin, , , , . lake st. croix (upper), . lake sandy, . lake shawano, , . lake superior, , , - , - , , , , , , , , , , , . lake vieux désert, , , , . lake winnebago, , , , , , , . langlade, charles de, , , . langlade county, . la pointe, , , - , - . la ronde, fur trader, . la salle, chevalier de, , , , - , . lead mining in wisconsin, , , - . le sueur, pierre, , , , , . lincoln, abraham, . linctot, godefroy, , . lipcap, killed by indians, , . little chute, . little kaukauna, , . little suamico, . long, john, , . mcarthur, lieutenant governor arthur, , . mckay, major william, , . mackinac, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , - , , , , , . madelaine island, - . madison, , , , , , , , , . manitowoc county, . marin, french captain, , . marquette, father jacques, , , - , , , , , , . marquette county, . mascoutin indians (fire nation), , , , - , , , , , , . mason, destroyed by fire, . massachusetts indians in wisconsin, . ménard, father rené, - , , . menasha, . menominee indians, , , , , , - , , - . menominee river, , , . merrill, . methode, killed by indians, , . miami indians, , , , , . miller, a. g., . milwaukee, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . mineral point, , , . mississippi river, , , , - , , , , - , , , - , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . mohawk indians, , . montreal river, . mormons in wisconsin, - . morse, dr. jedediah, . munsee indians, , , . nahkom, indian woman, , . neapope, sac leader, . neenah, , , , , , . new franken, . new glarus, , . new york indians in wisconsin, . nicolet, jean, - , , , , , , . northwest company, . nouvel, father henri, . oconto, . oconto county, . odanah, . ogemaunee, menominee chief, - . "old abe," wisconsin war eagle, oneida indians, , , , . oshkosh (city), , , . oshkosh, indian chief, - . ottawa indians, , , , , , . partridge, alvin, , . pensaukee, . perkins, lieutenant joseph, , . perrot, nicolas, , - , , . peshtigo, . phillips, . platteville, . point bass, . poles in wisconsin, , . pontiac's war, , . portage, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . portage county, . potosi, . pottawattomie indians, , , , , , , . prairie du chien, , , , , , , , , , , - , - , , , - , , , , , . prairie du sac, . racine, , . racine county, , . radisson, pierre-esprit, - , , , , , , , , . réaume, charles, - . red bird, winnebago chief, - . roads in wisconsin, - . rock river, , , , , , . rolette, joseph, . russians in wisconsin, . sac indians, , , , - , - , . st. cosme, father jean françois buisson, , . st. croix county, . st. croix river, , , , , , , . st. francis xavier mission. _see_ de pere. st. james, jesuit mission, . st. louis river, . st. mark, jesuit mission, , . sauk county, . sault ste. marie, , , , . scandinavians in wisconsin, , , . scotch in wisconsin, . shawano county, . sheboygan, , , . shell lake, . shull, james w., . shullsburg, . silvy, father antoine, . sinclair, captain patrick, . sioux indians, , , , , , , , , , - , , . slavery in wisconsin, - . souligny, indian chief, , , . spaniards in lead mines, , . spanish-american war, wisconsin in, - . stockbridge indians, , , . strang, james jesse, - . sturgeon bay, , . sturgeon bay (water), indians on, . sugar bush, . superior, . swiss in wisconsin, - . taylor, zachary, . taylor county, . tecumseh, , , . tomah, , . trempealeau, , , . trempealeau county, , , . vanderventer's creek, . voree, - , . wabashaw, sioux chief, . walworth county, . war of secession, wisconsin in, - . warren, lyman marcus, , . warren, truman, , . washington island, . waukesha, . waukesha county, , . wekau, winnebago avenger, - . welsh in wisconsin, , . whistler, major william, , . white cloud, sac leader, , . white crane, chippewa chief, . white river, , . whittlesey's creek, . williams, eleazer, - . winnebago county, . winnebago indians, - , , - , , - , , , , , , ; as mound builders, . winnebago rapids, . wisconsin city, . wisconsin river, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , - , , , , , , . wisconsinapolis, . wolf river, , . yellow banks, . typography by j. s. cushing & co., norwood, mass., u.s.a. fifty years in the northwest. with an introduction and appendix containing reminiscences, incidents and notes. by w. h. c. folsom. edited by e. e. edwards. published by pioneer press company. . to the old settlers of wisconsin and minnesota, who, as pioneers, amidst privations and toil not known to those of later generation, laid here the foundations of two great states, and have lived to see the result of their arduous labors in the transformation of the wilderness--during fifty years--into a fruitful country, in the building of great cities, in the establishing of arts and manufactures, in the creation of commerce and the development of agriculture, this work is respectfully dedicated by the author, w. h. c. folsom. preface. at the age of nineteen years, i landed on the banks of the upper mississippi, pitching my tent at prairie du chien, then ( ) a military post known as fort crawford. i kept memoranda of my various changes, and of many of the events transpiring. subsequently, not, however, with any intention of publishing them in book form until , when, reflecting that fifty years spent amidst the early and first white settlements, and continuing till the period of civilization and prosperity, itemized by an observer and participant in the stirring scenes and incidents depicted, might furnish material for an interesting volume, valuable to those who should come after me, i concluded to gather up the items and compile them in a convenient form. as a matter of interest to personal friends, and as also tending to throw additional light upon my relation to the events here narrated, i have prefixed an account of my own early life for the nineteen years preceding my removal to the west, thus giving to the work a somewhat autobiographical form. it may be claimed that a work thus written in the form of a life history of a single individual, with observations from his own personal standpoint, will be more connected, clear and systematic in its narration of events than if it were written impersonally. the period included in these sketches is one of remarkable transitions, and, reaching backward, in the liberty accorded to the historian, to the time of the first explorations by the jesuits, the first english, french and american traders, is a period of transformation and progress that has been paralleled only on the shores of the new world. we have the transition from barbarism to civilization; we have the subjugation of the wilderness by the first settlers; the organization of territorial and state governments; an era of progress from the rude habits of the pioneer and trapper, to the culture and refinement of civilized states; from the wilderness, yet unmapped, and traversed only by the hardy pioneer in birch barks or dog sledges, to the cultivated fields, cobwebbed by railways and streams furrowed by steamers. it is something to have witnessed a part, even, of this wonderful transformation, and it is a privilege and a pleasure to record, even in part, its history. i have quoted from the most correct histories within my reach, but the greater part of my work, or of that pertaining to the fifty years just passed, has been written from personal observation and from information obtained directly by interview with, or by written communications from, persons identified in some way with the history of the country. to those persons who have so freely and generously assisted me in the collection of material for this work, i hereby express my thanks. i have relied sparingly on traditions, and, where i have used them, have referred to them as such. introduction. while genealogical tables are of interest chiefly to the families and individuals whose names are therein preserved, i still deem it not amiss to insert here a brief account of my ancestry. among the emigrants from england to the new world in , came john foulsham, then twenty-three or twenty-four years of age, and his wife, to whom he had been married about a year and a half. they came from hingham, england, to hingham, mass., with a colony that probably named the settlement in loving remembrance of the town they had left. they came on account of certain ecclesiastical troubles; their rector, with whom they sympathized, having torn down the altar rails and leveled the altar, an act of irreverence that called down upon them the wrath of their superior, bishop wren, and resulted in rector and people selling out their real estate at half its value and emigrating to america. john received a grant of land consisting of four acres and built himself a house, the frame being constructed of sawed oak timber. this house, built in , stood until , two hundred and thirty-five years, when it was taken down and manufactured into canes and chairs, which were distributed as relics to the american descendants of the family. the family, however, had increased so greatly that the supply was not equal to the demand. the wife of john foulsham was mary gilman. from this couple the american folsoms and their allies from marriages with the female descendants of the family have sprung. the ancestors of john foulsham may be traced backward a period of near six hundred years, and many of the family have honorable mention in english history. the earliest mention is concerning john foulsham of foulsham, prior of a carmelite monastery in norwich, and "præses provincialis" of all england. this foulsham is spoken of in bayle's catalogue of eminent worthies as "no mean proficient in controversial theology, knowing how, by means of syllogystic tricks, to turn white into black and men into donkeys." he died in the great plague at norwich in . a certain john de foulsham is spoken of in blomefield's history of norfolk as an "eloquent, unflinching opponent of the corruptions of the times." it is possible that this may be the carmelite prior above mentioned, though the prefix _de_ leaves the matter somewhat in doubt. as to the original derivation of the family name, hon. george folsom, of philadelphia, in one of the manuscripts left by him, says: "it arose upon the adoption of surnames in england, from the town of foulsham, a village in the county of norfolk, six or eight miles north of hingham, in which county the family was seated for many centuries, possessing estates in fifteen different places." thus john de, or john of foulsham, became john foulsham. the orthography and pronunciation of the name have varied in the family itself, as well as among those writing and pronouncing it. the first anglo-american bearing the name spelled it "foulsham." his son, deacon john, spelled it "fullsam" in , and it is signed "foullsam" in his last will-- . in one instance, in the hingham town records, it is spelled "fulsham," but always afterward, "foulsham." in the exeter records it is written uniformly "folsom" with but one exception, when it is written by the town clerk "foulshame." in the records of the first parish, haverhill, massachusetts, it is written "foulsham," "foulsam," "folsham" and "fulsom." originally it was doubtless spelled "foulshame," its etymological significance being the _fowls' home_, a breeding place or mart. it was probably at first written with a hyphen, as fouls-hame, but the final syllable was eventually shortened. everywhere it is now written _folsom_ by those having the name, and is pronounced like _wholesome_. the characteristics of the family have been quite uniform. far as known they were a religious family, and prominent as such in both catholic and protestant circles, with a strong disposition toward dissent from the established order of things. thus john de foulsham wrote a treatise quite at variance with the doctrines of the church, advocating the marriage of priests. john foulsham, the anglo-american, left england on account of his dissent, preferring a home in the wilderness with freedom to worship god, to dwelling under the rule of a haughty and tyrannical bishop. many of the family espoused the doctrines of whitfield. many of them became baptists, becoming such at a time when the baptists were most unpopular, and afterward becoming free will baptists, in which communion more of the family may to-day be found than in any other. the occupations of the family were mostly, in the early days, mechanical. many were joiners and millwrights. the children and grandchildren were farmers, landholders and lumbermen. of the many who removed to maine, after the revolution, most engaged in lumbering, but turned their attention also to milling and storekeeping. the family have also shown a military tendency, and during the various wars visited upon the country since the early colonial times, this family has borne its full share of the dangers, toils and expense. my father, jeremiah folsom, was born in tamworth, new hampshire, sept. , , and was married to octavia howe, april , . my mother was born in machias, maine, oct. , . my father was a prominent business man, and was engaged in shipping and mercantile pursuits, he owning vessels that plied from st. johns to machias and other american ports. to facilitate his business, st. johns was his home four years, during which time he was associated with william henry carman. this temporary residence and business association account for my being born on british soil, and for the names by which i was christened. according to the record in the old family bible, i was born at st. johns, new brunswick, june , . when i was six months old my parents moved to bangor, maine, thence to foxcroft, maine, thence to ascot, lower canada. when i was five years old my parents moved to tamworth, new hampshire. young as i was, i am still able to recall events that occurred while i lived in canada. i remember falling into a well and being badly bruised. i remember also an adventure with a bear. my parents had gone to church, leaving me at home, greatly against my will. i attempted to follow, but missed the road and wandered off into a wood, perhaps three miles away. when my parents returned they were much alarmed, and parties immediately went in pursuit. when i knew i was lost i set up a vigorous screaming, which had the effect of attracting attention from two very different parties. the first was a huge bear in quest of food, and doubtless delighted at the prospect before him. the second was one of the rescuing parties in quest of the lost boy. both simultaneously approached the screaming youngster and bruin fought stubbornly for his prey, but was vanquished by the clubs of my rescuers, and i was carried home in triumph. i do not clearly recall all the incidents of this scene, and, strangely enough, do not remember seeing the bear. perhaps the terror of being lost drove out every other impression. an excuse for the narration of this apparently trifling incident may be found in the fact that but for the prompt arrival of the rescuing party, this history would never have been written. when i was ten years of age my parents removed to bloomfield, maine. while in tamworth i had excellent opportunities of attending school, which i improved to the utmost. after leaving tamworth my school privileges were well nigh ended, as i never received from that time more than six months' schooling. my father followed lumbering on the kennebec river. during the first winter in maine, he took me to the logging camp as camp boy. during the second winter he hired me to matthew and lewis dunbar as a cook for their wood camp. i cooked for six men and received five dollars a month. i was used very kindly by the dunbars, but that winter in the woods seemed a long, long winter. the only book in camp was the bible. there were, however, newspapers and playing cards. in the spring my father used the fifteen dollars received for my three months' work to purchase a cow. i served the dunbars the third winter, as cook, for six dollars a month, and worked the ensuing summer on farms at about twenty-five cents per day. during the fourth winter i worked for the dunbars and timothy snow at seven dollars per month, and the summer following worked on a farm for benjamin cayford at seven dollars. cayford was a merciless tyrant, and sometimes compelled his men to work in the field till nine o'clock at night. these details of wages paid and work done, uninteresting in themselves, serve to show the value of a boy's work (i was not yet fifteen) and what was expected of the average boy, for mine was no exceptional case nor was my father more exacting than others in his station in life. he was in poor health, and had a large family of boys. we were eight in number, and of these i was one of the most robust and able to assist in the support of the family. this year i persuaded my father to sell me my time, which amounted to five years, which he reluctantly did, accepting two hundred and fifty dollars as an equivalent. it was my ambition to go west. horace greeley had not uttered the talismanic words, "go west, young man," but i believed that by going west i would be better able to advance my own interests and assist my parents. my father signed the necessary paper relinquishing my time, which was printed in the skowhegan _clarion_. from this time until i was nineteen years old i worked on the river and on farms, worked continuously and beyond my strength. i worked another summer for cayford, but have no pleasant recollections of him, for on his farm i was sadly overworked, being often called to work before sunrise and kept at work after sunset. i worked two winters cooking in the woods for capt. asa steward, of bloomfield, one of the best men i ever served, a kind hearted, honest christian. he gave me good counsel and good wages besides. in the fall of i went into the woods to work for capt. eb. snow, of madison. like cayford, he was a merciless tyrant and abusive to his men. i left his camp before my engagement closed, not being able to endure his abuse longer. this is the only time in which i failed to keep a labor engagement. i finished the winter with capt. asa steward, but my eyes became so inflamed from the smoke of the camp that i was obliged to abandon cooking. during this winter occurred an incident that came near having a serious and even fatal termination. there were three of us, simeon goodrich, jimmie able and myself, who went down the kennebec to the forks, a distance of twelve miles from camp. a deep, damp snow had fallen the night previous, and through this snow, reaching above our knees, we trudged wearily till able gave out. we carried him a short distance, but becoming exhausted ourselves, laid him down in the snow. to remain with him would be to imperil the lives of all; by hurrying on we might be able to send a party to bring him in. we carefully made for him a bed of fir boughs and placed loose garments over him and under him, and as he was sick, weak and faint, gave him a draught of liquid opodeldoc, and leaving the bottle with him, hurried on. we traveled the last mile through an opening. snow drifted deeply. we dragged our bodies through the drifts in the direction of a glimmering light, which proved to be sturgis' hotel, which we reached at o'clock p. m. a team was sent back immediately for the lost able by a road of which we knew nothing. the rescuing party met him trudging along with all his baggage. the opodeldoc had revived him, and he had traveled a full mile when he met the rescuing party. at two o'clock the team returned bringing the lost wayfarer. another adventure terminated more disastrously than this. in the spring of i was employed in taking logs across moosehead lake. the logs were in booms, and were moved by a capstan and rope. this was before the days of steamboats, and the moving of the booms was no light task. on this occasion a gale of wind struck us and drifted us across the lake. we threw out an anchor, hoping to check the course of the boom and swing it into cowan's bay. in one of our throws the anchor tripped, or caught fast, and suddenly tightened the line. our whole crew were in an instant hurled headlong. some were thrown into the water. one man (butler) had his ribs broken. all were more or less injured. the capstan went overboard. the old boom swung on and on, and, passing spencer's bay, broke and went to pieces on the shore. the logs were with great difficulty regathered, but were finally brought to the outlet of the lake july th, the last raft of the season. after river driving in the spring of , i went to the penobscot river and found employment at twenty dollars a month at east great works, building a dam. john mills, our superintendent, was a good man. there was a lyceum here, the first i ever attended. in december i returned to the kennebec, and in the spring of went to dead river to drive, but an attack of the measles and general ill health, with symptoms of pulmonary derangement, compelled me to abandon the work. i had lived nine years on the kennebec, years of hard labor and exertion beyond my strength, and in that time had earned enough to pay my father two hundred and fifty dollars. i had been able to purchase a small library, and had two hundred dollars in cash to defray my expenses to the west. reminiscences.--he that leaves the home of his youth for a strange land carries with him memories, pleasant to recall, of scenes and incidents, the influence of which he feels to the latest hour of life. there are some things he can not forget. they may not be an essential part of his own life history, but still they have found a place in his mind and seem a part of himself, and he recurs to them again and again with ever increasing delight. there are other things, may be, not so pleasant to dwell upon, which still have a place in his memory and may be profitably recalled. no one who has ever lived in maine can forget its dark pine forests, its rugged hills, its rushing streams, cold and clear as crystal, its broad lakes, the abundant game of its forests and the fish in its waters. the minnesota and wisconsin pioneers, who with the author of this book claim maine as an early home, will not object to the insertion in this chapter of a few of these reminiscences. moosehead lake.--my first visit to moosehead lake was in the early winter of . at that time it was still in the wilderness, only two settlers having found their way to its shores. we were going with a six ox team to a camp on the brasua and our road led us across the frozen lake. emerging from a beech and maple grove on the margin near haskell's, our sled plunged downward, and in a moment we found ourselves on the gray ice of the lake, with a wonderful panorama spread out before us. the distant islands and the shores, hilly and mountainous, stood out plainly between the winter sky and the ice covered lake. the mirage added its finishing touches to the picture, increasing the brightness and apparent size of distant objects, or lending them brilliant hues, the whole scene sparkling in the frosty sunlit air, making a vision of beauty that could not fade. on we trudged over the ice, the sled creaking, the ice emitting a roaring sound, not unlike the discharge of a park of artillery, sounds produced by the expansion of the ice. we trudged on past islands and craggy, rock-bound shores, passed burnt jacket, squaw and moxey mountains in the east, lily and spencer bays at the southeast, misery and other mountains in the west, while far away to the north of east towered white old katahdin. before us loomed up the flint rock kinneo, its perpendicular face fronting west, on the lake; at the base a beautiful maple interval extending toward spencer bay. the following spring our boom lay wind-bound at the base of kinneo, and we seized the opportunity of climbing the vast pile of flinty rocks composing it, and obtained thence a view of unparalleled beauty, including the broad, bright lake, fairy islands, mountains and hills and vast stretches of pine forests. the tourist might seek far and wide, vainly, for a landscape rivaling this. moose hunting.--the lake and surrounding country offer unrivaled attractions to the sportsman. the lake abounds in fish, of which the lake trout is the most abundant in number and delicious in flavor. specimens are frequently taken weighing from ten to fifteen pounds. the forests at that time abounded in wild animals, chief of which was the moose, the largest and the homeliest of the deer family. with his long, narrow head, small eyes, donkey-like ears, pendant lips, the upper one curling like a small proboscis, with his high shoulders and giraffe-like hips, with his short, round body, long and clumsy legs, he is as distinguished for his want of grace and comeliness as the red deer is for its presence. no animal is better adapted for its own home and mode of life. their heavy coat of hair adapts them to high latitudes. with their curved upper lip they take hold of the branches of the trees, and with their strong teeth and paws they are able to peel off the tender bark of saplings and small trees. the moose, when attacked, is fierce, resolute, defiant, and defends himself in a masterly manner, striking with his fore legs with such precision that the hunter is obliged to keep at a respectful distance. the male moose wears a remarkable pair of horns of annual growth, to which each year a prong is added. the home of the moose is the northern part of the north temperate zone. moose hunting is a healthy though laborious pastime. the hunter must be an expert, and it requires years of practice to become skillful. he must build his camp in the wilderness, packing thither his food, blankets, camp utensils and gun. with his pack of dogs he starts out in search of a moose yard. this is generally in some well timbered district. the snow in winter is generally from three to six feet deep, but the moose has broken paths through this to facilitate his movements through the forest, and here he roams about in fancied security, browsing on the young shrubs, but the hunter finds his hiding place. in such case he conceals himself in the snow near one of these paths and waits patiently till the moose passes, when he fires upon him. if the moose is killed at once the hunter waits patiently in his hiding place till another and another comes up to share a like fate. if the moose is only wounded he starts off as rapidly through the snow as his long legs will carry him, pursued by the hunter and his dogs. the hunter has all the advantages of the position, being mounted on snowshoes, thus being able to move with comparative swiftness, while the moose plunges heavily through the snow, and at last, weakened by loss of blood, he is overtaken and easily killed. mount bigelow.--this is a noble, grand, historical mountain, situated on the south side of dead river, in franklin county. for years it had been my strong desire to make the ascent, and in may, , the desire was gratified. with six others, i left camp, and by evening reached green's hotel, where we obtained lodgings for the evening. at early dawn, having supplied ourselves with lunch, tin cup and hatchet, we began the ascent on the northeast side. we soon passed the thrifty timber and aided our ascent of the craggy sides of the mountain by clinging to the shrubs that found roothold in the crevices of the rocks. it may not be amiss to say that we rested, that we rested frequently, for mountain climbing is no light work for those unaccustomed to it. while toiling wearily upward we found ourselves enveloped in mist, or a cloud, from which we soon emerged to find the heavens above us clear and bright, while leaden clouds shut out the landscape below. at twelve o'clock, noon, we were on the summit. by this time the clouds had been dispersed. the air was clear and cold and beneath us lay, as in a beautiful panorama, the lands and lakes of maine. there are two peaks, about half a mile apart, between which is a valley and a small lake. from the highest of these peaks the view was magnificent. in the far north we imagined we saw canada. the vast, northern expanse was all unoccupied save by a few farms at the foot of the mountain, and by a few camps of lumbermen, hunters and trappers. looking to the northeast, we saw in the blue distance, glittering with snow drifts, mount katahdin. a little north of the divide line to katahdin lay moosehead lake, the largest, most beautiful lake in maine. at this season of the year the snow had disappeared from the valleys and hills, but the summits of the mountains were still white. in all directions the scene was grand and inspiring. we could trace the kennebec river in its windings to the sea and fancied we could see in the dim distance the blue atlantic. to the southwest mountains seemed piled on mountains, while here and there in intermediate vales bright lakes reflected the blue of the upper deep. in this direction there were farms, but they looked like mere dots on the face of the earth. lake umbagog lay coiled in the shade of distant mountains in the southwest. we fancied that we could see the ragged crest of the white mountain still further beyond. the scene had also its historical associations. along the base of this mountain, on the northwestern side, ere his name had been sullied by the foulest treason in our country's history, benedict arnold bravely led the colonial troops in the campaign against canada. with him, as an aid, was col. bigelow, whose name is given to the mountain. the gallant little army halted on the banks of dead river at the base of the mountain, and made their camp. while the army was resting at this camp lieut. col. bigelow ascended the mountain and planted his country's flag upon the highest peak, doubtless the first white man who made the ascent, and the mountain is his monument to-day. around the site of the camp was planted the colony of flagstaff. while we were gazing on the magnificent scene, musing upon its varied beauties and recalling its historical associations, the sun set, and reluctantly we set out on our return, a descent the more perilous because it was growing dark. extreme caution was necessary; nevertheless we made good headway, as we found ourselves sometimes sliding and even rolling down the path that we had ascended with so much difficulty in the forenoon. it was long after nightfall that, tired and hungry, we reached wyman's hotel on the banks of dead river. lumbering in maine.--the practical lumberman did not usually start his teams for the pineries until snowfall and the freezing of the lakes and rivers. the first thing was to select a place for operations. this was done in the open season. when the winter had fairly set in the lumberman, with his ox teams, generally six oxen to a sled, the sleds laden with camp plunder, would start for the pineries. the slow ox teams would consume many days making the journey. the crew of men employed for the winter generally met the teams in camp. the snow would be cleared away for the camp, and a fire built. the cook would prepare a supper of fried pork, fritters or pancakes, tea, syrup and new england apple sauce, the crew meanwhile cutting boughs, wood, etc., and preparing for permanent camp. supper over, the cattle were tied to trees and fed. water was secured for evening use only. a glowing fire would be kept up, around which the crew would gather to spend the evening in talking over the adventures of the day, discussing plans for the morrow or singing camp songs. thus the evening would pass merrily and swiftly. at the hour for retiring parties of two would spread their blankets on a couch of fir or cedar boughs, and lie down to rest. next morning the cook would rise at four o'clock to prepare breakfast, which over, as soon as it was light enough the crew would commence the work of the day. every man goes to his assigned duties, the _boss_ in charge having the general oversight. the life of a lumberman is one of exposure to the elements, yet it is not necessarily unfriendly to the development of character. with a well ordered camp and gentlemanly crew the winter may pass away pleasantly, and the young man engaged in the comparatively hard toil of the camp, may, with books and papers and cheerful converse with the more thoughtful of his elders, improve the long evenings spent around the camp fire. many a maine boy has received here the greater part of his training for the duties of after life. sunday was usually occupied in reading, singing, and doing some of the lighter work of camp, such as repairing sleds, shoeing oxen and making axe helves or visiting neighboring camps. it was a day of rest only so far as the heavier work of the camp was suspended. sanctuary privileges there were none. the work would often close in the sunny days of march. the men would mostly depart for home. a few would remain to drive the logs with the first water from the melting of the snows late in april. driving logs in the rapid waters of maine is hazardous work. scarcely a day passes without imminent risk to life and limb of the hardy and venturesome men engaged in the work of breaking log landings and jams, and running boats. men are exposed to wet and cold from dawn till dark. this work requires active and vigorous men, constitutionally fitted and carefully trained to the work. they are usually sociable, lively and wide awake, these qualities enabling them to endure, and even to enjoy, the life of hardship which they lead, and to which they become so accustomed that they are unwilling to leave it until worn out by its inevitable hardship. list of illustrations. w. h. c. folsom frontispiece james s. anderson opp martin mower john mckusick opp edward white durant william m. blanding reuben f. little oliver wendell holmes hospital john comstock opp hans b. warner opp rev. wm. t. boutwell devil's chair frank n. peterson rev. e. e. edwards smith ellison isaac staples opp jacob bean louis hospes fort snelling william d. washburn opp john s. pillsbury opp st. anthony falls birdseye view of st. paul opp henry h. sibley opp alex. ramsey opp henry m. rice opp edmund rice opp wm. rainey marshall opp wm. h. fisher john b. sanborn opp h. p. hall hon. g. w. le duc lucius f. hubbard opp home of the author state seal seal of old settlers association contents. introduction. biographical. genealogy of the american folsoms vii autobiographical. parentage ix time and place of birth ix earliest recollections ix removal to bloomfield, maine x first essay at logging x commencing life xi lost in the snow xi adventure on moosehead lake xii on the penobscot xii reminiscences of maine xiii moosehead lake xiii ascent of kinneo mountain xiv moose hunting xiv mount bigelow xv lumbering in maine xvi chapter i. going west. lakes huron and michigan chicago and milwaukee on foot to galena the northwestern territory arrival at dubuque reminiscences of dubuque arrival at prairie du chien early history of prairie du chien ancient document forts shelby--mckay--crawford first commissioners at prairie du chien organization of crawford county indian troubles running the gauntlet fort crawford robbed early justice a southward journey new orleans, vicksburg return to prairie du chien privations a perilous journey return to maine--mountains of new hampshire marriage prairie du chien in american residents biographies. james duane doty james h. lockwood indian troubles john s. lockwood samuel gilbert michael brisbois pierre la point joseph rolette hercules dousman rev. david lowry chief justice charles dunn rev. alfred brunson ira brunson john h. folsom ezekiel tainter judge wyram knowlton robert lester thomas pendleton burnett general henry dodge general george w. jones s. g. and s. l. tainter, john thomas chapter ii. stillwater and st. croix county. from prairie du chien to stillwater stillwater in st. croix county first settlement in dismemberment of st. croix valley from crawford county judge irwin's court in events in , first commissioners' meeting election precincts in early history of stillwater the first saw mill copy of agreement of mill company agreement of land claims bateau voyage up the st. croix indian drunks skiff voyage to prairie du chien mail carrying claim and mill at arcola stillwater in , events overland trip to prairie du chien return, adventure a pioneer cat stillwater in territorial election arrest of nodin and ne-she-ke-o-ge-ma visit to sunrise, connor's camp murder of henry rust funeral, indignation meeting first district court in stillwater nodin and ne-she-ke-o-ge-ma acquitted steamer war eagle and raft society ball in stillwater stillwater in chapter iii. biographies. joseph renshaw brown paul carli dr. christopher carli lydia ann carli phineas lawrence jacob fisher james s. anderson emanuel d. farmer col. john greely mrs. hannah greely elam greely himan greely aquilla greely elias mckean calvin f. leach socrates nelson mrs. socrates nelson edward blake walter r vail john e mower martin mower william willim albert harris cornelius lyman david b loomis william e cove john smith john morgan anson northrup robert kennedy harvey wilson andrew jackson short james d mccomb william rutherford albion masterman joseph n masterman mahlon black morton s wilkinson william stanchfield thomas ramsdell charles macey jonathan e mckusick john mckusick william mckusick noah mckusick royal mckusick ivory e mckusick charles e leonard daniel mclean robert simpson william h hooper james h spencer john t blackburn joseph t blackburn horace mckinstry seth m sawyer henry sawyer alvah d heaton john mckenzie george mckenzie henry kattenberg julius f brunswick henry mclean hugh burns sylvanus trask ariel eldridge edward white durant oliver parsons albert stimson abraham van voorhees michael e owens joseph bonin marcel gagnon sebastian marty john marty adam marty michael mchale george watson rev eleazer a greenleaf j b covey john shaesby john s proctor barron proctor henry westing thomas dunn charles j gardiner samuel staples josiah staples joel m darling early river pilots joe perro james mcphail john cormack john hanford john leach stephen b hanks samuel s hanks chapter iv polk county description and history franklin steele, the first pioneer his account of the settlement the st croix falls lumbering company organization and history st croix river, origin of name treaty and purchase of history of polk county county seat located at st. croix falls first election county officers first happenings the liquor traffic melancholy results death of hall and livingston indian "jamboree." frontier justice balsam lake murders execution of an indian population of st. croix falls in natural language drowning of h. h. perkins a quailtown murder mineral permits marriage under difficulties an indian scare the first fire canoe mill building more indian murders indian battle of stillwater the first loggers the first rafting an indian payment indian dancing and theft other thefts hard times puzzled indians, "ugh! ugh!" mrs. worth and muckatice chapter v. polk county--continued. biographies. gov. william holcombe william s. hungerford caleb cushing judge henry d. barron george w. brownell col. robert c. murphy edward worth mrs. mary c. worth maurice m. samuels joseph b. churchill john mclean gilman jewell elisha creech james w. mcglothlin andrew l. tuttle john weymouth b. w. reynolds augustus gaylord james d. reymert william j. vincent thompson brothers william amery lewis barlow levi w. stratton elma m. blanding blanding family frederick g. bartlett michael field alden rev. a. b. peabody v. m. babcock apple river balsam lake beaver black brook clam falls daniel f. smith clayton reuben f. little clear lake pineville frank m. nye eureka charles nevers farmington harmon crandall samuel wall william ramsey hiram r. nason joel f. nason john mcadams charles tea garfield georgetown a double murder george p. anderson laketown lincoln william wilson loraine william w. gallespie luck william h. foster milltown patrick lillis osceola scenery first happenings change of name osceola village daniel mears nelson mccarty william o. mahony richard arnold william kent, sr. robert kent andrew kent william, james, thomas, and john kent samuel close ebenezer ayres dr. carmi p. garlick john s. godfrey william a. talboys charles h. staples j. w. peake george wilson samuel b. dresser frederic a. dresser oscar a. clark oscar f. knapp mrs. elisabeth b. hayes cyrus g. bradley w. hale edgar c. treadwell st. croix falls st. croix falls village west sweden sterling dr. samuel deneen william w. trimmer arnold densmore chapter vi. st. croix county. organization, division, county seat located at buena vista first election division of the county, present limits general description monument rock towns and date of organization st. croix county agricultural society pomona grange agricultural statistics manufactures st. croix poor farm first tax roll of county, hudson city original claimants first survey, etc. first deed recorded city government mayors of the city city schools military institute mills and manufactories banks oliver wendell holmes hospital water works hotels, the great fire, social and benevolent organizations biographies. louis massey peter bouchea william steets capt. john b. page dr. philip aldrich the nobles family james purinton ammah andrews james walstow james sanders j. w. stone joseph bowron moses perin john o. henning moses s. gibson col. james hughes daniel anderson alfred day dr. otis hoyt s. s. n. fuller miles h. van meter philip b. jewell john tobin horace a. taylor jeremiah whaley simon hunt john s. moffatt james h. childs william dwelley james m. fulton marcus a. fulton david c. fulton n. s. holden william h. semmes sterling jones d. r. bailey henry c. baker mert herrick d. a. baldwin john comstock lucius p. wetherby john c. spooner thomas porter herman l. humphrey theodore cogswell frank p. catlin charles y. denniston a. e. jefferson samuel c. symonds john e. glover lemuel north edgar nye william t. price e. b. bundy towns and biographies. baldwin baldwin village woodville village cady cylon eau galle emerald erin prairie forest glenwood hammond hammond village john thayer rev. william egbert hudson james kelly daniel coit james virtue theodore m. bradley william dailey robert and wm. mcdiarmid william martin paschal aldrich kinnikinic duncan mcgregor w. b. and james a. mapes pleasant valley richmond boardman village gridley village new richmond village new richmond city bank, high school benjamin b.c. foster robert philbrick linden coombs eben quinby lewis oaks henry russell joseph d. johnson joel bartlett francis w. bartlett george c. hough silas staples dr. henry murdock steven n. hawkins rush river somerset somerset village gen. samuel harriman st. joseph houlton village burkhardt village springfield hersey village wilson village stanton star prairie huntington village star prairie village hon. r. k. fay troy james chinnock william l. perrin warren james hill village plats chapter vii pierce county. descriptive history, first events county seat changed to ellsworth railroads miscellaneous statistics village plats organization of towns clifton george w. mcmurphy osborne strahl charles b. cox ephraim harnsberger diamond bluff capt. john paine john day sarah a. vance allen r. wilson e. s. coulter james bamber jacob mead charles walbridge charles f. hoyt enoch quinby the first settler el paso ellsworth ellsworth village anthony huddleston perry d. pierce hans b. warner gilman hartland isabelle maiden rock christopher l. taylor martell oak grove lewis m. harnsberger prescott city history platted in first official board statistics, first events churches fair grounds cemetery destructive fires philander prescott george schaser william s. lockwood james monroe bailey adolph werkman joseph manese hilton doe lute a. taylor john huitt john m. rice an indian battle river falls first happenings water powers schools at river falls river falls academy churches associations bank, railroad fires river falls city, organization falls of kinnikinic the cave cabin the fourth state normal school joel foster jesse b. thayer a. d. andrews joseph a. short prof. allen h. weld allen p. weld george w. nichols w. d. parker william powell lyman powell nathaniel n. powell oliver s. powell nils p. haugen h. l. wadsworth rock elm salem spring lake trenton trimbelle m. b. williams union chapter viii. burnett, washburn, sawyer and barron counties. burnett county. location and description organization pine barrens murders old geezhic the first mission the chippewas of wood lake grantsburg canute anderson the hickerson family the anderson family robert a. doty the cranberry marshes washburn county. description, town organization first events shell lake, summit lake first board of county officers shell lake lumber company sawyer creek spooner station veazie village sawyer county. organization, description county indebtedness town of hayward village of hayward first events, schools, churches, etc. bank, lumber company malcomb dobie milton v. stratton barron county. description, organization turtle lake, town and village barron, perley village cumberland village sprague comstock and barronett villages charles simeon taylor chapter ix. ashland, bayfield and douglas counties. ashland county. history, location, description isles of the apostles claude allouez at madeline island early history of la pointe remarkable epitaph la pointe county election john w. bell ashland history, first events asaph whittlesey j. p. t. haskell g. s. vaughn dr. edwin ellis martin beaser hon. sam s. fifield bayfield county. location and history bayfield village washburn, drummond, etc. douglas county. description and history first election superior city history early speculation period of depression west superior the bardon brothers william h. newton judge solon h. clough vincent roy d. george morrison august zachau chapter x. pine county. history description first events finances, railroads losses by fire pokegama lake and mission thomas conner's trading post presbyterian mission mushk-de-winini battle of pokegama cannibalism a noble chief frank confessions a cowardly deed an unjust accusation indian magnanimity rev. frederic ayer rev. william t. boutwell discovery of itasca mrs. hester c. boutwell chengwatana first settlers chengwatana village platted chengwatana town organized louis ayd duane porter s. a. hutchinson hinckley, town of hinckley, village of james morrison sandstone village and quarries wm. h. grant, sr. kettle river, town of john c. hanley mission creek pine city, town of pine city, village of richard g. robinson hiram brackett randall k. burrows john s. ferson samuel millet rock creek enoch horton royalton windermere neshodana, fortuna, st. john's a rock creek murder burning of a jail a disfigured family indian faith cure indian graves indian stoicism old batice an indian dance chapter xi. kanabec, isanti, and mille lacs counties. kanabec county. history, boundaries, etc. description first settlers, first election first events arthur mora, village of stephen l. danforth n. h. danforth alvah j. conger ira conger bronson, village of brunswick, town of brunswick, village of ground house city james pennington george l. staples daniel gordon grass lake, town of isanti county. organization cambridge north branch, town of oxford, town of stephen hewson george w. nesbit rensselaer grant mille lacs county. description mille lacs reservation county organization in first election and officers milacca, village of bridgman, village of princeton, village of samuel ross joseph l. cater m. v. b. cater edwin allen john h. allen a. b. damon c. h. chadbourne chapter xii. chisago county. location, surface, scenery chisago lake dalles of the st. croix origin of the formation the devil's chair the wells settlement and organization joe r. brown to the front prehistoric remains robinet in possession robinet bought off, first improvements death of b. f. baker the first log house built first crops raised first election chisago county named first commissioners county seat located at taylor's falls removed to centre city amador first supervisors thornton bishop william holmes james m. martin branch north branch station henry l. ingalls mrs. lavina l. ingalls chisago lake, first settlers first crops swedish lutheran church centre city andrew swenson john s. van rensselaer axel dahliam nels nord join a. hallberg charles a. bush lars johan stark frank mobeck robert currie andrew n. holm cemetery and other associations incorporation indian dance lindstrom village daniel lindstrom magnus s. shaleen chisago city otto wallmark andrew wallmark fish lake peter berg benjamin franklin franconia franconia village ansel smith henry f. and leonard p. day henry wills the clark brothers david smith jonas lindall william peaslee charles vitalis august j. anderson frank n. peterson harris harris village lent nessell robert nessell stephen b. clark rush seba rush city thomas flynn patrick flynn rufus crocker frank h. pratt voloro d. eddy f. s. christianson shafer jacob shafer peter wickland tuver walmarson andros anderson eric byland jacob peterson ambrose c. seavey sunrise sunrise village kost village chippewa dronthiem nashua washington john a. brown patten w. davis james f. harvey floyd s. bates isaac h. warner charles f. lowe wells farr john g. mold george l. blood joel g. ryder john dean taylor's falls first post office and mail service mills, first events religious organizations bridge company banks, mining companies chapter xiii. biographical. jesse taylor joshua l. taylor nathan c. d. taylor thomas f. morton henry n. setzer patrick fox william f. colby oscar roos samuel thomson susan thomson mears george de attly jacob markley john dobney william dobney henry h. newbury emil munch a. m. wilmarth lucius k. stannard james w. mullen david caneday george b. folsom aaron m. chase peter abear levi w. folsom eddington knowles dr. lucius b. smith william comer e. whiting and brothers frederic tang, sr. ward w. folsom george w. seymour james a. woolley patrick carroll joseph carroll e. e. edwards stephen j. merrill noah marcus humphrey royal c. gray john p. owens andrew clendenning smith ellison wyoming--settlement and organization wyoming village deer garden l. o. tombler dr. john woolman comfort isaac markley joel wright randall wright frederic tepel charles henry sauer chapter xiv. washington county. organization in first board of officers afton afton village south afton valley creek st. mary village joseph haskell lemuel bolles taylor f. randolph elijah bissell andrew mackey baytown settlement baytown village bangor middletown south stillwater mills, etc. docks, factories, cemeteries cottage grove cottage grove village langdon joseph w. furber samuel w. furber theodore furber james s. norris lewis hill jacob moshier william ferguson john atkinson denmark point douglas levi hertzell oscar burris david hone william b. dibble george harris harley d. white thomas hetherington james shearer simon shingledecker caleb truax abraham truax george w. campbell forest lake, history of captain michael marsh forest lake village grant, history of dellwood eagle city mahtomedi wildwood william elliott frederick lamb james rutherford jesse h. soule lakeland, description and history of lakeland village henry w. crosby reuben h. sanderson newton mckusick captain john oliver captain asa barlow green l. a. huntoon marine, origin of settlement first settlers the mill completed marine mills village first lawsuit churches, improvements losses by fire vasa village orange walker lewis walker samuel burkelo asa s. parker hiram berkey george b. judd james hale john holt george holt william town matthias welshance benj. t. otis william clark james r. meredith john d. and thomas e. ward samuel judd frederic w. lammers james r. m. gaskill newport, town of isle pelee red rock mission at red rock gray cloud city newport village john holton john a. ford daniel hopkins, sr. william r. brown william fowler oakdale, town of lake elmo village e. c. gray arthur stephens oneka, town of oneka station shady side village daniel hopkins, jr. stillwater, town of oak park david p. lyman henry a. jackman frederic j. curtis david cover john parker woodbury, town of jacob folstrom alexander mchattie john mchattie the middleton family newington gilbert ebenezer ayers chapter xv. washington county--continued. city of stillwater. stillwater in the freshet of a real estate movement incorporation of stillwater list of marshals post office, mail routes statistics hotels city banks board of trade, water company fire department gas light, telegraph, telephone elevator, express companies, bridge lumbering interests, flour mills manufactories building association churches, etc. public buildings societies, etc. cemeteries agricultural society state prison fires, bonds, indebtedness biographies. isaac staples samuel f. hersey & sons jacob bean charles bean rudolph lehmicke hollis r. murdock george m. seymour frank a. seymour louis hospes david tozer david bronson john maloy mrs. susannah tepass william e. thorne edmund j. butts a. b. easton edwin a. folsom john b. h. mitchell joseph schupp clifford a. bennett samuel mathews john and james mathews peter jourdain james rooney james n. castle abraham l. gallespie john c. gardiner v. c. seward ralph wheeler edward s. brown william lowell albert lowell nelson h. van voorhes andrew j. van voorhes henry c. van voorhes c. a. bromley charles j. butler levi e. thompson george davis william m. mccluer john n. ahl samuel m. register j. a. johnson gold t. curtis harley d. curtis francis r. delano henry w. cannon dwight m. sabin chapter xvi. stearns, anoka and sherburne counties. stearns county. organization and history of st. cloud newspapers and post office village and city organization land office, expenditures the st. cloud dam, improvements banks, public buildings st. john's university la sauk, town of peter schaeler john l. wilson charles t. stearns henry g. fillmore nathaniel getchell james keough loren w. collins henry c. waite gen. s. b. lowry a. and joseph edelbrock john rengel louis a. evans ambrose freeman nathan f. barnes nehemiah p. clark oscar e. garrison charles a. gilman other citizens anoka county. organization first settlers, commissioners anoka, town of anoka, city of incorporation fires, public buildings manufactures, banks bethel, town of blaine, town of burns, town of centreville, town of centreville village columbus, town of fridley, town of john banfil grow, town of ham lake, town of linwood, town of l. s. arnold s. ridge j. g. green s. w. haskell m. m. ryan hurley family oak grove, town of ramsey, town of st. francis, town of an indian riot jared benson james c. frost a. j. mckenney john henry batzle john r. bean a. mcc. fridley william staples capt. james starkey sherburne county. description organization towns of sherburne county villages of sherburne county orono, elk river east st. cloud clear lake becker big lake j. q. a. nickerson henry bittner francis delille mrs. f. delille howard m. atkins b. f. hildreth samuel hayden joseph jerome joshua o. cater j. f. bean j. h. felch james brady joshua briggs robert orrock john g. jamieson a. b. heath dr. b. r. palmer judge moses sherburne charles f. george royal george w. l. babcock chapter xvii. benton, morrison and crow wing counties. benton county. description first settlers, organization towns of benton county villages sauk rapids, incorporation dam and public buildings the cyclone of watab village philip beaupre david gilman james beatty ellis kling george w. benedict j. q. a. wood william h. wood mrs. wm. h. wood a. delacy wood p. h. wood rev. sherman hall jeremiah russell edgar o. hamlin morrison county. description history indian feuds organization winnebago indiana towns of morrison county little falls village little falls water power incorporation schools and churches royalton village incorporation, first officers peter roy william sturgis james fergus nathan richardson moses la fond o. a. churchill john m. kidder warren kobe ola k. black ira w. bouch robert russell peter a. green rodolphus d. kinney john d. logan crow wing county. description first settlers organization reorganization murderers lynched brainerd first settlers northern pacific sanitarium the kindred dam l. p. white allen morrison charles f. kindred chapter xviii. aitkin, carlton, st. louis, lake and cook counties. aitkin county. description organization, officers aitkin village william a. aitkin alfred aitkin nathaniel tibbett carlton county. history and organization towns of carlton county thomson village cloquet village moose lake station barnum station mahtowa station north pacific junction francis a. watkins st. louis county. description picturesque scenery commissioners' meetings list of commissioners duluth, early history growth, population mills, warehouses, shipments duluth harbor fish commission fond du lac village oneota village clifton village portland village endion village middleton village montezuma village buchanan village st. louis falls village fremont island tower george r. stuntz george e. stone charles h. graves ozro p. stearns lake county. description two harbors cook county. history and organization chapter xix. hennepin county. organization and history, towns fort snelling treaty of first land claims, cheever's tower st. anthony village platted first marriage in the territory first courts, school, post office church organizations the suspension bridge built st. anthony incorporated annexation to minneapolis, st. anthony falls la salle's description minneapolis, early settlers early land claims business enterprises mills erected st. anthony water power company minneapolis named, land office incorporation as a city, annexation of st. anthony list of mayors water vs. steam terrific explosion at the flour mills suburban resorts list of public buildings post office statistics lumber manufactured bonded debt, taxes, expenses west minneapolis biographies. calvin a. tuttle cyrus aldrich dr. alfred e. ames dr. albert a. ames jesse ames cadwallader c. washburn william d. washburn joseph c. whitney charles hoag franklin steele roswell p. russell horatio p. van cleve charlotte o. van cleve ard godfrey richard chute lucius n. parker captain john rollins john g. lennon john h. stevens caleb d. dorr rev. edward d. neill john wensignor robert h. hasty stephen pratt capt. john tapper r. w. cummings elias h. conner c. f. stimson william dugas david gorham edwin hedderly louis neudeck andrew j. foster a. d. foster charles e. vanderburgh dorillius morrison h. g. o. morrison f. r. e. cornell gen. a. b. nettleton isaac atwater rev. david brooks prof. jabez brooks john s. pillsbury henry t. welles david blakely william lochren eugene m. wilson r. b. langdon william m. bracket thos. b. and platt b. walker austin h. young henry g. hicks john p. rea john martin john dudley chapter xx. ramsey county. organization, first officers st. paul in , known as pig's eye first settlers father ravoux, henry jackson established a trading post accessions of accessions of first deed accessions of first school second deed, phalen's tract accessions of reminiscences accessions in st. paul platted miss bishop's school first steamboat line accessions of progress in st. paul made the capital of the state the first newspapers early items and advertisements pioneers of some comparisons statistics of population, schools, buildings list of mayors west st. paul towns of ramsey county white bear first settlers indian battle ground town organization white bear lake village hotels and cottages daniel getty south st. paul north st. paul population of st paul post office history chapter xxi. biographical. henry hastings sibley alexander ramsey william h. forbes henry m. rice edmund rice louis robert auguste l. larpenteur william h. nobles simeon p. folsom jacob w. bass benjamin w. brunson abram s. and chas. d. elfelt d. a. j. baker benjamin f. hoyt john fletcher williams dr. john h. murphy william h. tinker george p. jacobs lyman dayton henry l. moss william rainey marshall david cooper bushrod w. lott w. f. davidson wm. h. fisher charles h. oakes c. w. w. borup capt. russell blakely rensselaer r. nelson george l. becker aaron goodrich nathan myrick john melvin gilman charles e. flandrau john b. sanborn john r. irvine horace r. bigelow cushman k. davis s. j. r. mcmillan willis a. gorman john d. ludden elias f. drake norman w. kittson hascal r. brill ward w. folsom gordon e. cole james smith, jr. william p. murray henry hale james gilfillan charles duncan gilfillan alexander wilkin westcott wilkin s. c. whitcher t. m. newson alvaren allen harlan p. hall stephen miller chapter xxii. dakota, goodhue, wabasha and winona counties. dakota county. description hastings farmington ignatius donnelly francis m. crosby g. w. le duc goodhue county. red wing, barn bluff cannon falls indian burying ground hans mattson lucius f. hubbard william colville martin s. chandler charles mcclure horace b. wilson wabasha county. wabasha village bailey and sons nathaniel s. tefft james wells winona county. scenery winona city daniel s. norton william windom charles h. berry thomas wilson thomas simpson wm. h. yale chapter xxiii. miscellaneous biographies. pierre bottineau andrew g. chatfield hazen mooers john mcdonough berry mark h. dunnell james h. baker horace b. strait judson wade bishop john l. mcdonald thomas h. armstrong augustus armstrong moses k. armstrong james b. wakefield william wallace braden reuben butters michael doran andrew mccrea john w. blake knute nelson william r. denny appendix. miscellaneous incidents, indian treaties, etc. brief history of the northwest territory spanish claims french claims louisiana in settlement of marietta, ohio ohio territory statistics boundary question wisconsin constitutional convention, wisconsin constitutional convention, some resolutions under what government? h. h. sibley elected congressional delegate queries minnesota territory created land office at stillwater indian treaties treaty with the sioux (mendota) treaty with the chippewas (mendota) treaty with the sioux (washington) treaty with the winnebagoes (washington) treaty with the chippewas (fond du lac) treaty with the pillager band (leech lake) treaty with the sioux (traverse des sioux) treaty with the sioux (mendota) treaty with the chippewas (la pointe) treaty with the pillagers (washington) treaty with the chippewas (red lake river) gen. pike and the indians treaty of pike's address to the council details of treaty pike hospitably entertained united states surveys in the northwest establishment of land offices establishment of the present system of surveys the first surveyor general's office at marietta, o united states land offices in the northwest list of registers and receivers, wisconsin first entries first auction sale of land list of registers and receivers, minnesota list of wisconsin territorial and state officers, governors, senators, andrepresentatives from st. croix valley legislative representation first and second constitutional conventions governors of wisconsin united states senators united states representatives district judges state legislature list of minnesota territorial and state officers census of the territory in first territorial legislature first prohibition law constitutional convention list of state officers and judicial senators and representatives minnesota state legislatures constitutional convention of division of convention union of conventions on a constitution have we a constitution first, minnesota state legislature protests against legislation five million bill passed and adopted state seal adopted state seal design adjourned session of legislature protests against recognizing gov. medary reports on protests land grants--railroad surveys and construction northern pacific railroad chicago, st. paul, minneapolis & omaha railroad st. paul & duluth railroad minnesota & manitoba railroad stillwater, white bear & st. paul railroad st. paul, stillwater & taylor's falls railroad wisconsin central railroad taylor's falls & lake superior railroad chicago, milwaukee & st. paul railroad a memorial for "soo" railroad organization of minneapolis, sault ste. marie & atlantic railroad mileage of railroads centring in st. paul and minneapolis chicago, burlington & northern railroad congressional appropriations inland navigation george r. stuntz on lake superior and st. croix canal waterways convention, e. w. durant's valuable statistics resolution for st. croix and superior canal early steamboat navigation steamboat accommodations first mississippi steamboat officers first mississippi steamboat organizations list of steamboats later navigation on northwest rivers steamboating on the st. croix ice boats james w. mullen's reminiscences, st. croix boom company surveyors general of logs organization conflict over state boundary language of logs logs cut from to chartered dams lumbering and lumbermen in lumbering and lumbermen in st. croix dalles log jams population of northwest territory in population of wisconsin territory in subsequent census population of minnesota in minnesota state capitol burning of state house selkirk visitors cyclones isanti and chisago cyclone cottage grove and lake elmo cyclone washington county and wisconsin cyclone st. cloud and sauk rapids cyclone curious lightning freaks asiatic cholera on the royal arch first decree of minnesota citizenship international hotel, st. paul, burned grasshoppers ancient mounds lake itasca, schoolcraft and boutwell form the name itasca. description of itasca elk and boutwell lakes capt. glazier's false claim copper mining on st. croix rev. julius s. webber; reminiscences judge hamlin--amusing incident minnesota old settlers association st. croix valley old settlers association newspaper history gen. scott, maj. anderson, and jeff. davis jeff. davis' marriage at fort crawford dred scott at fort snelling incidents in dred scott's history old betz and descendants addenda. military history of the rebellion, to gov. alex. ramsey's address to loyal legion thirty-eighth and thirty-ninth legislative sessions of wisconsin errata. [transcriber's note: errata corrected in the text.] chapter ii, page , read stillwater and st. croix county, instead of counties. page , read cyrus g. bradley, instead of cyrus q. page , read philip b. jewell, instead of philip p. page , read clifford a. bennett, instead of clifton. page , read stearns, anoka and sherburne counties, instead of stearns, anoka and morrison counties. page , read edmund j. butts, instead of edward j. butts. chapter i. going west.--in june, , i again visited the penobscot in quest of employment, in which i was unsuccessful. at stillwater, above bangor, i met my kind friend simeon goodrich, also out of employment. after mature deliberation we concluded to go west. returning to bloomfield, i collected the money held for me by capt. ruel weston and was soon in readiness for the journey. but a few days before the time agreed upon for leaving, i received a letter from simeon goodrich, which contained the unpleasant information that he could not collect the amount due him and could not go with me. truly this was a disappointment. i was obliged to set out alone, no light undertaking at that early day, for as yet there were no long lines of railroad between maine and the mississippi river. the day at last arrived for me to start. my companions and acquaintances chaffed me as to the perils of the journey before me. my mother gave me her parting words, "william, always respect yourself in order to be respected." these words, accompanied with her farewell kiss, were long remembered, and, i doubt not, often kept me from evil associations. the stage took us directly to the steamboat at gardiner. the steam was up and the boat was soon under way. it was the new england, the first boat of the kind i had ever seen. i felt strangely unfamiliar with the ways of the traveling world, but observed what others did, and asked no questions, and so fancied that my ignorance of traveling customs would not be exposed. it was sunset as we floated out into the wide expanse of the atlantic. the western horizon was tinged with fiery hues, the shores grew fainter and receded from view and the eye could rest at last only upon the watery expanse. all things seemed new and strange. next morning a heavy fog hung over the scene. the vessel was at anchor in boston harbor and we were soon on shore and threading the crooked streets of the capital of massachusetts. i was not lost in the wilderness maze of streets, as i had feared i should be, but on leaving boston on the evening train i took the wrong car and found myself uncomfortably situated in a second or third class car, crowded and reeking with vile odors, from which the conductor rescued me, taking me to the pleasant and elegant car to which my first class ticket entitled me. on arriving at providence i followed the crowd to the landing and embarked on the steamer president for new york, in which city we remained a day, stopping at the city hotel on broadway. i was greatly impressed with the beauty of part of the city, and the desolate appearance of the burnt district, concerning the burning of which we had read in our winter camp. i was not a little puzzled with the arrangement of the hotel tables and the printed bills of fare, but closely watched the deportment of others and came through without any serious or mortifying blunder. next morning i left new york on the steamer robert l. stevens for albany, and on the evening of the same day went to schenectady by railroad. some of the way cars were hauled by horses up hills and inclined planes. there were then only three short lines of railroad in the united states, and i had traveled on two of them. at schenectady i took passage on a canal boat to buffalo. i had read about "de witt clinton's ditch," and now greatly enjoyed the slow but safe passage it afforded, and the rich prospect of cities, villages and cultivated fields through which we passed. at buffalo we remained but one day. we there exchanged eastern paper for western, the former not being current in localities further west. at buffalo i caught my first glimpse of lake erie. i stood upon a projecting pier and recalled, in imagination, the brave commodore perry, gallantly defending his country's flag in one of the most brilliant engagements of the war, the fame whereof had long been familiar to the whole country and the thrilling incidents of which were the theme of story and song even in the wilderness camps of maine. the steamer oliver newberry bore me from buffalo to detroit. from detroit to mt. clemens, michigan, i went by stage and stopped at the last named place until october th, when, being satisfied that the climate was unhealthy, fever and ague being very prevalent, i returned to detroit, and on the fifteenth of the same month took passage on the brig indiana, as steamers had quit running for the season. the brig was aground two days and nights on the st. clair flats. a south wind gave us a splendid sail up the detroit river into lake huron. we landed for a short time at fort gratiot, at the outlet of the lake, just as the sun was setting. the fort was built of stone, and presented an impressive appearance. the gaily uniformed officers, the blue-coated soldiers, moving with the precision of machines, the whole scene--the fort, the waving flags, the movement of the troops seen in the mellow sunset light--was impressive to one who had never looked upon the like before. a favorable breeze springing up, we sped gaily out into the blue lake huron. at saginaw bay the pleasant part of the voyage ended. the weather became rough. a strong gale blew from the bay outward, and baffled all the captain's skill in making the proper direction. profane beyond degree was capt. mckenzie, but his free-flowing curses availed him nothing. the brig at one time was so nearly capsized that her deck load had rolled to one side and held her in an inclined position. the captain ordered most of the deck load, which consisted chiefly of chicago liquors, thrown overboard. unfortunately, several barrels were saved, two of which stood on deck, with open heads. this liquor was free to all. the vessel, lightened of a great part of her load, no longer careened, but stood steady against the waves and before the wind. it is a pity that the same could not be said of captain, crew and passengers, who henceforth did the careening. they dipped the liquor up in pails and drank it out of handled dippers. they got ingloriously drunk; they rolled unsteadily across the deck; they quarreled, they fought, they behaved like bedlamites, and how near shipwreck was the goodly brig from that day's drunken debauch on chicago free liquor will never be known. the vessel toiled, the men were incapacitated for work, but notwithstanding the tempest of profanity and the high winds, the wrangling of crew and captain, we at last passed saginaw bay. the winds were more favorable. thence to mackinaw the sky was clear and bright, the air cold. the night before reaching mackinaw an unusual disturbance occurred above resulting from the abundance of free liquor. the cook, being drunk, had not provided the usual midnight supper for the sailors. the key of the caboose was lost; the caboose was broken open, and the mate in the morning was emulating the captain in the use of profane words. the negro cook answered in the same style, being as drunk as his superior. this cook was a stout, well built man, with a forbidding countenance and, at his best, when sober, was a saucy, ill-natured and impertinent fellow. when threat after threat had been hurled back and forth, the negro jumped at the mate and knocked him down. the sailors, as by a common impetus, seized the negro, bound him tightly and lashed him to a capstan. on searching him they found two loaded pistols. these the mate placed close to each ear of the bound man, and fired them off. they next whipped him on the naked back with a rope. his trunk was then examined and several parcels of poison were found. another whipping was administered, and this time the shrieks and groans of the victim were piteous. before he had not even winced. the monster had prepared himself to deal death alike to crew and passengers, and we all felt a great sense of relief when capt. mckenzie delivered him to the authorities at mackinaw. antique mackinaw was a french and half-breed town. the houses were built of logs and had steep roofs. trading posts and whisky shops were well barred. the government fort, neatly built and trim, towered up above the lake on a rocky cliff and overlooked the town, the whole forming a picturesque scene. we remained but a few hours at mackinaw. there were ten cabin passengers, and these, with two exceptions, had imbibed freely of the chicago free liquor. they were also continually gambling. capt. mckenzie had fought a fist fight with a deadhead passenger, capt. fox, bruising him badly. what with his violence and profanity, the brutality of the mate and the drunken reveling of crew and passengers, the two sober passengers had but a sorry time, but the safe old brig, badly officered, badly managed, held steadily on its course, and october th, fifteen days from detroit, safely landed us in chicago. after being so long on the deck of a tossing vessel, i experienced a strange sensation when first on shore. i had become accustomed to the motion of the vessel, and had managed to hold myself steady. on shore the pitching and tossing movement seemed to continue, only it seemed transferred to my head, which grew dizzy, and so produced the illusion that i was still trying to balance myself on the unsteady deck of the ship. chicago, since become a great city, had at that time the appearance of an active, growing village. thence i proceeded, november st and d, by stage to milwaukee, which appeared also as a village, but somewhat overgrown. idle men were numerous, hundreds not being able to obtain employment. here i remained a couple of weeks, stopping at the belleview house. after which i chopped wood a few days for daniel wells. not finding suitable employment, i started west with a mr. rogers, december d. there being no other means of conveyance, we traveled on foot. on the evening of the second we stopped at prairie village, now known as waukesha. on the evening of the third we stopped at meacham's prairie, and on the fifth reached rock river, where i stopped with a mr. st. john. the evening following we stopped at an irish house, where the surroundings did not conduce to comfort or to a feeling of security. several drunken men kept up a continuous row. we hid our money in a haystack, and took our turn sleeping and keeping watch. we ate an early breakfast, and were glad to get away before the men who had created such a disturbance during the night were up. we moved onward on the seventh to blue mound, where we found a cheerful resting place at brigham's. the eighth brought us to dodgeville, where we stopped at morrison's. on the ninth we reached mineral point, the locality of the lead mines, where i afterward lost much time in prospecting. mineral point was then a rude mining town. the night of our arrival was one of excitement and hilarity in the place. the first legislature of the territory of wisconsin had been in session at belmont, near mineral point, had organized the new government and closed its session on that day. to celebrate this event and their emancipation from the government of michigan and the location of the capital at madison, the people from the point, and all the region round about, had met and prepared a banquet for the retiring members of the legislature. madison was at that time a paper town, in the wilderness, but beautifully located on cat fish lake, and at the head of rock river. the location had been accomplished by legislative tact, and a compromise between the extremes. in view of the almost certain division of the territory, with the mississippi river as a boundary, at no very distant day, it was agreed that madison should be the permanent capital, while burlington, now in iowa, should be used temporarily. milwaukee and green bay had both aspired to the honor of being chosen as the seat of government. mineral point, with her rich mines, had also aspirations, as had cassville, which latter named village had even built a great hotel for the accommodation of the members of the assembly. dubuque put in a claim, but all in vain. madison was chosen, and wisely, and she has ever since succeeded in maintaining the supremacy then thrust upon her. in my boyhood, at school, i had read of the great northwest territory. it seemed to me then far away, at the world's end, but i had positively told my comrades that i should one day go there. i found myself at last on the soil, and at a period or crisis important in its history. the great northwest territory, ceded by virginia to the united states in , was no more. the immense territory had been carved and sliced into states and territories, and now the last remaining fragment, under the name of wisconsin, had assumed territorial prerogatives, organized its government, and, with direct reference to a future division of territory, had selected its future capital, for as yet, except in name, madison was not. in assuming territorial powers, the boundaries had been enlarged so as to include part of new louisiana, and the first legislature had virtually bartered away this part of her domain, of which burlington, temporary capital of wisconsin, was to be the future capital. two more days of foot plodding brought us to galena, the city of lead. the greeting on our entering the city was the ringing of bells, the clattering of tin pans, the tooting of ox horns, sounds earthly and unearthly,--sounds no man can describe. what could it be? was it for the benefit of two humble, footsore pedestrians that all this uproar was produced? we gave it up for the time, but learned subsequently that it was what is known as a charivari, an unmusical and disorderly serenade, generally gotten up for the benefit of some newly married couple, whose nuptials had not met with popular approval. at galena i parted with mr. rogers, my traveling companion, who went south. on the fifteenth of december i traveled to dubuque on foot. when i came to the mississippi river i sat down on its banks and recalled the humorous description of old mr. carson, my neighbor, to which i had listened wonderingly when a small boy. "it was," he said, "a river so wide you could scarcely see across it. the turtles in it were big as barn doors, and their shells would make good ferryboats if they could only be kept above water." sure enough, here was the big river, but covered with ice, scarcely safe to venture on. several persons desiring to cross, we made a portable bridge of boards, sliding them along with us till we were safe on the opposite bank. i was now at the end of my journey, on the west bank of the mississippi, beyond which stretched a vast and but little known region, inhabited by indians and wild beasts. as i review the incidents of my journey in , i can not but contrast the conditions of that era and the present. how great the change in half a century! the journey then required thirty days. it now requires but three. i had passed over but two short lines of railroad, and had made the journey by canal boat, by steamer, by stage, and a large portion of it on foot. there were few regularly established lines of travel. from michigan to the mississippi there were no stages nor were there any regular southern routes. travelers to the centre of the continent, in those days, came either by the water route, via new orleans or the fox and wisconsin river route, or followed indian trails or blazed lines from one settlement to another. the homes of the settlers were rude--were built principally of logs. in forest regions the farms consisted of clearings or square patches of open ground, well dotted with stumps and surrounded by a dense growth of timber. the prairies, except around the margins or along certain belts of timber following the course of streams, were without inhabitants. hotels were few and far between, and, when found, not much superior to the cabins of the settlers; but the traveler was always and at all places hospitably entertained. dubuque. dubuque was a town of about three hundred inhabitants, attracted thither by the lead mines. the people were principally of the mining class. the prevailing elements amongst them were catholic and orange irish. these two parties were antagonistic and would quarrel on the streets or wherever brought in contact. sundays were especially days of strife, and main street was generally the field of combat. women even participated. there was no law, there were no police to enforce order. the fight went on, the participants pulling hair, gouging, biting, pummeling with fists or pounding with sticks, till one or the other party was victorious. these combats were also accompanied with volleys of profanity, and unlimited supplies of bad whisky served as fuel to the flame of discord. dubuque was certainly the worst town in the west, and, in a small way, the worst in the whole country. the entire country west of the mississippi was without law, the government of wisconsin territory not yet being extended to it. justice, such as it was, was administered by judge lynch and the mob. my first employment was working a hand furnace for smelting lead ore for a man named kelly, a miner and a miser. he lived alone in a miserable hovel, and on the scantiest fare. in january i contracted to deliver fifty cords of wood at price's brickyard. i cut the wood from the island in front of the present city of dubuque, and hired a team to deliver it. while in dubuque i received my first letter from home in seven months. what a relief it was, after a period of long suspense, spent in tediously traveling over an almost wilderness country,--amidst unpleasant surroundings, amongst strangers, many of them of the baser sort, drinking, card playing, gambling and quarreling,--what a relief it was to receive a letter from home with assurances of affectionate regard from those i most esteemed. truly the lines had not fallen to me in pleasant places, and i was sometimes exposed to perils from the lawless characters by whom i was surrounded. on one occasion a dissolute and desperate miner, named gilbert, came to cannon's hotel, which was my boarding house while in dubuque. he usually came over from the east side of the river once a week for a spree. on this occasion, being very drunk, he was more than usually offensive and commenced abusing cannon, the landlord, applying to him some contemptuous epithet. i thoughtlessly remarked to cannon, "you have a new name," upon which gilbert cocked his pistol and aiming at me was about to fire when cannon, quick as thought, struck at his arm and so destroyed his aim that the bullet went over my head. the report of the pistol brought others to the room and a general melee ensued in which the bar was demolished, the stove broken and gilbert unmercifully whipped. gilbert was afterward shot in a drunken brawl. i formed some genial acquaintances in dubuque, amongst them gen. booth, messrs. brownell, wilson and others, since well known in the history of the country. price, the wood contractor, never paid me for my work. i invested what money i had left for lots in madison, all of which i lost, and had, in addition, to pay a note i had given on the lots. on february th i went to cassville, journeying thither on the ice. this village had flourished greatly, in the expectation of becoming the territorial and state capital, expectations doomed, as we have seen, to disappointment. it is romantically situated amidst picturesque bluffs, some of which tower aloft like the walls and turrets of an ancient castle, a characteristic that attaches to much of the bluff scenery along this point. prairie du chien. i reached this old french town on the twelfth of february. the town and settlement adjacent extended over a prairie nine miles long, and from one to two miles broad, a beautiful plateau of land, somewhat sandy, but for many years abundantly productive, furnishing supplies to traders and to the military post established there. it also furnished two cargoes of grain to be used as seed by the starving settlement at selkirk, which were conveyed thither by way of the mississippi, st. peter and red rivers. the earliest authentic mention of the place refers to the establishment of a post called st. nicholas, on the east bank of the mississippi, at the mouth of the wisconsin, by gov. de la barre, who, in , sent nicholas perrot with a garrison of twenty men to hold the post. the first official document laying claim to the country on the upper mississippi, issued in , has mention of the fort. this document we transcribe entire: "nicholas perrot, commanding for the king, at the post of the nadouessioux, commissioned by the marquis denonville, governor and lieutenant governor of all new france, to manage the interests of commerce amongst the indian tribes and people of the bay des puants (green bay), nadouessioux (dakotahs), maseontins, and other western nations of the upper mississippi, and to take possession in the king's name of all the places where he has heretofore been, and whither he will go. "we, this day, the eighth of may, one thousand six hundred and eighty-nine, do, in the presence of the reverend father marest, of the society of jesus, missionary among the nadouessioux; of monsieur de borieguillot (or boisguillot), commanding the french in the neighborhood of the ouiskonche (wisconsin), on the mississippi; augustin le gardeur, esq., sieur de caurnont, and of messeurs le sueur, hibert, lemire and blein: "declare to all whom it may concern, that, being come from the bay des puants, and to the lake of the ouiskonches, and to river mississippi, we did transport ourselves to the country of the nadouessioux, on the border of the river st. croix, and at the mouth of the river st. pierre (minnesota), on the bank of which were the mantantans; and further up to the interior to the northeast of the mississippi, as far as the menchokatoux, with whom dwell the majority of the songeskitens, and other nadouessioux, who are to the northeast of the mississippi, to take possession for, and in the name of, the king of the countries and rivers inhabited by the said tribes, and of which they are proprietors. the present act done in our presence, signed with our hand and subscribed." then follow the names of the persons mentioned. the document was drawn up at green bay. there is little doubt that this post was held continuously by the french as a military post until , when the french authorities at quebec withdrew all their troops from wisconsin, and as a trader's post or settlement, until the surrender in to the british of all french claims east of the mississippi. it was probably garrisoned near the close of the latter period. it remained in the possession of the french some time, as the english, thinking it impossible to compete for the commerce of the indian tribes with the french traders who had intermarried with them, and so acquired great influence, did not take actual possession until many years later. the post is occasionally mentioned by the early voyageurs, and the prairie which it commanded was known as the "prairie du chien," or praire of the dog, as early as , and is so mentioned by carver. it was not formally taken possession of by the united states until , when gov. clarke with two hundred men came up from st. louis to prairie du chien, then under english rule, to build a fort and protect american interests at the village. at that time there were about fifty families, descended chiefly from the old french settlers. these were engaged chiefly in farming, owning a common field four miles long by a half mile wide. they had outside of this three separate farms and twelve horse mills to manufacture their produce. the fort, held by a few british troops under capt. deace, surrendered without resistance, but soon after the british traders at mackinaw sent an expedition under joe rolette, sr., to recapture the post, which they did after a siege of three days, the defenders being allowed to withdraw with their private property on parole. they were followed by the indians as far as rock island. meanwhile, lieut. campbell, with reinforcements on his way from st. louis, was attacked, part were captured and the remainder of his troops driven back to st. louis. late in maj. zachary taylor proceeded with gunboats to chastize the indians for their attack on campbell, but was himself met and driven back. the following year, on the declaration of peace between great britain and america, the post at prairie du chien was evacuated. the garrison fired the fort as they withdrew from it. the fort erected by the americans under gen. clarke in was called fort shelby. the british, on capturing it, changed the name to fort mckay. the americans, on assuming possession and rebuilding it, named it fort crawford. it stood on the bank of the river at the north end of st. friole, the old french village occupied in by the dousmans. in the new fort crawford was built on an elevated site about midway in the prairie. it was a strong military post and was commanded at this time by gen. zachary taylor. many officers, who subsequently won distinction in the florida indian, mexican, and late civil war, were stationed here from time to time. within a time included in my own recollections of the post, jefferson davis spirited away the daughter of his commanding officer, gen. taylor, and married her, the "rough and ready" general being averse to the match. prairie du chien derived its name from a french family known as du chien, in english "the dog." by this name the prairie was known long prior to the establishment of the french stockade and post. by that name it has been known and recognized ever since. it has been successively under the french, english and united states governments, and lying originally in the great northwestern territory, in the subsequent divisions of that immense domain, it has been included within the bounds of the territories of ohio, indiana, illinois, michigan, and wisconsin. gov. wm. h. harrison, of indiana territory, recognized prairie du chien by issuing commissions to henry m. fisher and ---- campbell as justices of the peace, the first civil commissions issued for the american government in the entire district of country including west wisconsin and minnesota east of the mississippi. prior to this time, about , the inhabitants had been chiefly under military rule. in the county of crawford was organized as a part of michigan territory, and blank commissions were issued to nicholas boilvin, esq., with authority to appoint and install the officers of the new county government. gov. lewis cass established by proclamation the county seat at prairie du chien, and john w. johnson was installed as chief justice of the county court. the entire corps of officers were qualified. in january, , congress passed an act providing for circuit courts in the counties west and north of lake michigan, and james duane doty was appointed judge for the district composed of brown, mackinaw and crawford counties, and a may term was held in prairie du chien the same year. indian troubles.--there were some indian troubles, an account of which is given in the biographical sketch of j. h. lockwood. there were other incidents which may be worthy of separate mention. in an entire family, named methode, were murdered, as is supposed, by the indians, though the murderers were never identified. the great incentive to violence and rapine with the indians was whisky. an intelligent winnebago, aged about sixty years, told me that "paganini," "firewater" (whisky), was killing the great majority of his people, and making fools and cripples of those that were left; that before the pale faces came to the big river his people were good hunters and had plenty to eat; that now they were drunken, lazy and hungry; that they once wore elk or deer skins, that now they were clad in blankets or went naked. this indian i had never seen drunk. the american fur company had huts or open houses where the indians might drink and revel. at an indian payment a young, smart looking indian got drunk and in a quarrel killed his antagonist. the friends of the murdered indian held a council and determined that the murderer should have an opportunity of running for his life. the friends of the murdered indian formed in a line, at the head of which was stationed the brother of the dead man, who was to lead in the pursuit. at a signal the bands of the prisoner were cut, and with a demoniacal yell he bounded forward, the entire line in swift and furious pursuit. should he outrun his pursuers, he would be free; should they overtake and capture him, they were to determine the mode of his death. he ran nearly a mile when he tripped and fell. the brother of the dead indian, heading the pursuit, pounced upon him and instantly killed him with a knife. considering the fact that the indians were gathered together under the guns of a united states fort, and under the protection of a law expressly forbidding the sale of intoxicating liquors to them, the people of the united states were certainly justified in expecting better results, not only in regard to the protection of the frontier settlers but for that of the indians themselves. all came to naught because of the non-enforcement of law. liquors were shamelessly sold to the indians and they were encouraged to drunken revelry and orgies by the very men who should have protected and restrained them. the prosperity of prairie du chien depended upon the indian trade, and upon government contracts which the presence of a military force rendered necessary. the indians gathered here in great numbers. here the winnebagoes, part of the menomonies and some chippewas received their annuities, and here centred also an immense trade from the american fur company, the depot being a large stone building on the banks of the mississippi, under the charge of hercules dousman. fort crawford robbed. two discharged soldiers (thompson and evans) living at patch grove, thirteen miles away, visited the fort often. on a morning after one of their visits a soldier on guard noticed a heap of fresh earth near the magazine. an alarm was given, an examination made, and it was found that the magazine had been burst open with bars and sledge hammers, entrance having been obtained by digging under the corner picket. three kegs of silver, each containing $ , , were missing. the kegs had been passed through the excavation underneath the picket. one keg had burst open near the picket, and the silver was found buried in the sand. the second keg burst on the bank of the mississippi, and all the money was found buried there except about six hundred dollars. the third keg was found months after by john brinkman, in the bottom of the river, two miles below the fort. he was spearing fish by torchlight, when he chanced to find the keg. the keg he delivered at the fort and received a small reward. on opening the keg it was found to contain coin of a different kind from that advertised as stolen. brinkman, however, made no claims on account of errors. thompson, evans, and a man named shields were arrested by the civil authorities on suspicion; their trial was continued from term to term and they were at last dismissed. one man, who had seen the silver in the sand during the day and gone back at night to fill his pockets, was seized by a soldier on guard, imprisoned for a year, and discharged. early justice. a frenchman shot and killed a couple of tame geese belonging to a neighbor, supposing them to be wild. discovering his mistake, he brought the geese to the owner, a dutchman, who flew into a great rage, but took the geese and used them for his own table, in addition to which he had the goose-killer arrested and tried before martin savall, a justice of the peace. the defendant admitted the killing of the geese, the plaintiff admitted receiving them and using them for food, nevertheless the justice gave judgment in favor of plaintiff by the novel ruling that these geese, if not killed, would have laid eggs and hatched about eight goslings. the defendant was therefore fined three dollars for the geese killed, and eight dollars for the goslings that might have been hatched if the geese had been permitted to live, and costs besides. plaintiff appealed to the district court which reversed the decision on the ground that plaintiff had eaten his geese, and the goslings, not being hatched, did not exist. plaintiff paid the costs of the suit, forty-nine dollars, remarking that a dutchman had no chance in this country; that he would go back to germany. the judge remarked that it would be the best thing he could do. a southward journey. my original plan on leaving maine was to make a prospecting tour through the west and south. i had been in prairie du chien for a season, and as soon as my contract to cut hay for the fort and my harvesting work was done. i started, with two of my comrades, in a birch bark canoe for new orleans. this mode of traveling proving slow and tedious, after two days, on our arrival at dubuque, we sold our canoe and took passage on the steamer smelter for st. louis, which place we reached on the seventeenth of october. we remained five days, stopping at the union hotel. st. louis was by far the finest and largest city i had yet seen in the west. its levee was crowded with drays and other vehicles and lined with steamers and barges. its general appearance betokened prosperity. on the twenty-second, i left on the steamer george collier for new orleans, but the yellow fever being reported in that city, i remained several days at baton rouge. on the second of november i re-embarked for new orleans, where i found a lodging at the conti street hotel. new orleans was even then a large and beautiful city. its levee and streets were remarkable for their cleanness, but seemed almost deserted. owing to a recent visitation of the yellow fever and the financial crisis of , business was almost suspended. these were hard times in new orleans. hundreds of men were seeking employment, and many of them were without money or friends. it was soon very evident to me that i had come to a poor place to better my fortunes. after a thorough canvass, i found but one situation vacant, and that was in a drinking saloon, and was not thought of for an instant. i remained fifteen days, my money gradually diminishing, when i concluded to try the interior. i took steamer for vicksburg, and thence passed up the yazoo to manchester, where i spent two days in the vain search for employment, offering to do any kind of work. i was in the south, where the labor was chiefly done by negroes. i was friendless and without letters of recommendation, and for a man under such circumstances to be asking for employment was in itself a suspicious circumstance. i encountered everywhere coldness and distrust. i returned to vicksburg, and, fortunately, had still enough money left to secure a deck passage to the north, but was obliged to live sparingly, and sleep without bedding. i kept myself somewhat aloof from the crew and passengers. the captain and clerk commented on my appearance, and were, as i learned from a conversation that i could not help but overhear, keeping a close eye upon me for being so quiet and restrained. it was true that the western rivers were infested with desperate characters, gamblers and thieves such as the murrell gang. might i not be one of them. i was truly glad when, on the fifth of december, we landed at st. louis. it seemed nearer my own country; but finding no employment there, i embarked on the steamer motto for hennepin, illinois, where i found occasional employment cutting timber. there was much talk here of the murrell gang, then terrorizing the country; and i have good reason to believe that some of them at that time were in hennepin. after remaining about two months, i left, on foot, valise in hand or strapped upon my back, with j. simpson, for galena, which place we reached in four days. finding here mr. putnam, with a team, i went up with him on the ice to prairie du chien, where, after an absence of five months of anxiety, suspense and positive hardships, i was glad to find myself once more among friends. during the summer of i cultivated a farm. i had also a hay contract for the fort. my partner was james c. bunker. i had worked hard and succeeded in raising a good crop, but found myself in the fall the victim of bilious fever and ague. i continued farming in and furnishing hay to the fort, but continued to suffer with chills and fever. myself and partner were both affected, and at times could scarcely take care of ourselves. help could not be obtained, but ague comes so regularly to torture its victims that, knowing the exact hour of its approach, we could prepare in advance for it, and have our water, gruel, boneset and quinine ready and within reach. we knew when we would shake, but not the degree of fever which would follow. the delirium of the fever would fill our minds with strange fancies. on one occasion i came home with the ague fit upon me, hitched my horses with wagon attached to a post and went into the house. banker had passed the shaking stage, and was delirious. i threw myself on the bed, and the fever soon following, i knew nothing till morning, when i found the team still hitched to the post, and, in their hunger, eating it. in november of this year i made a somewhat perilous trip with team to fort winnebago, at the portage of the fox and wisconsin rivers. the weather was cold and the military road, much of the distance, covered with snow. there was scarcely a trail over the rolling prairie to guide me. exposure brought on the chills as i was returning. fatigued, sick and suffering, i coiled myself on the top of the load. the second day, as the sun was setting, i came in sight of parish's grove, but the horses were unwilling to obey my guidance. coming to a fork in the road they insisted on going to the right. i pulled them to the left. had i been guided by their "horse sense" they would have brought me in a few moments to the door of parish's hotel. as it was, i drove on until far in the night, when we came to a steep hill, two steep for descent in the wagon. i unhitched the team, loaded them with the portable things in the wagon to keep them from the wolves that were howling around, mounted one of the horses and descended the hill and found myself at parish's door, the very place i had been trying to find for a day and a night. lieut. caldwell, quartermaster at fort crawford, received the load, and learning something of the perils of the journey, gave me eighty dollars instead of the forty he had promised. return to maine. during the spring and summer of , i fulfilled heavy hay and wood contracts for the fort, and in the autumn of that year concluded to revisit my early home in maine. i set out september d, and reached chicago in seven days, traveling with a team. i traveled thence by steamer to buffalo, by canal boat to rochester, by railroad and stage to albany and boston, by railroad to lowell, and by stage to tamworth, new hampshire. after spending four years amidst the prairies of the west it was indeed a pleasure to look again upon the grand ranges of mountains in this part of new england. when eleven years of age i had lived where i could look upon these mountains, and now to their grandeur was added the charm of old association. i looked with pleasure once more upon "old ossipee," coroway peak, and white face. time had written no changes upon these rugged mountains. there were cottages and farms on the mountain side. sparkling rivulets gleamed in the sunlight, as they found their way, leaping from rock to rock, to the valleys beneath. tamworth is situated on beautiful ridges amongst these mountain ranges. near this place is the old family burying ground containing the graves of my grand parents and other near relatives. these mountain peaks seemed to stand as sentinels over their last resting place. i remained at tamworth a short time, visited the graves of my kindred, and on october th pursued my journey to bloomfield, maine, my old home. i found great changes. some kind friends remained, but others were gone. the old home was changed and i felt that i could not make my future home here. the great west seemed more than ever attractive. there would i build my home, and seek my fortune. i found here one who was willing to share that home and whatever fortune awaited me in the west. on january st i was married to mary j. wyman, by rev. arthur drinkwater, who gave us good counsel on the eve of our departure to a new and still wilderness country. on february th we bade adieu to our friends in maine, visited awhile at tamworth, and march th reached prairie du chien, having traveled by private conveyance, stage and steamer, passing through new haven, new york, philadelphia, baltimore, and frederick city, maryland, over the national road to wheeling, virginia, by steamer down the ohio and up the mississippi to our destination. here we made our home until the autumn of , i continuing in the business in which i had been previously engaged. at this time a failure in my wife's health rendered a change of climate necessary. prairie du chien in - . our history of fifty years in the northwest commences properly at prairie du chien in the years - . the entire country west and north was at that time but little better than a wilderness. prairie du chien was an outpost of civilization. a few adventurous traders and missionaries had penetrated the country above, planting a few stations here and there, and some little effort had been made at settlement, but the country, for the most part, was the home of roving tribes of indians, and he who adventured among them at any distance from posts or settlements did so at considerable peril. prairie du chien, as we have shown, had been for an indefinite period under various governments, at first a french, and later an american settlement, generally under the protection of a military force. it was a primitive looking village. the houses were built for the most part of upright timber posts and puncheons, and were surrounded by pickets. there was no effort at display. every thing was arranged for comfort and protection. american residents. there were living at prairie du chien in the following americans with their families: alfred brunson, thomas p. burnett, joseph m. and thomas p. street, ezekiel tainter, john thomas, milo richards, john h. fonday, samuel gilbert, and william wilson. the following were unmarried: james b. dallam, ira b. brunson, william s. lockwood, and hercules dousman. in addition to these were perhaps near a hundred french families, old residents. among the more noted were the brisbois, la chapelle, rolette and bruno families. we include in the following biographical sketches some names of non-residents, prominent in the early territorial history, and others who came to prairie du chien later than . biographies. james duane doty.--the life of this eminent citizen is so interwoven with the history of wisconsin that it might well claim more space than is here allotted to it. the plan of this work forbids more than a brief mention, and we therefore give only the principal events in his life. mr. doty was born in salem, washington county, new york, where he spent his early days. after receiving a thorough literary education he studied law, and in located at detroit, michigan. in , in company with gov. cass, he made a canoe voyage of exploration through lakes huron and michigan. on this voyage they negotiated treaties with the indians, and returning made a report on the comparatively unexplored region which they had traversed. under his appointment as judge for the counties of michigan west of the lake, which appointment he held for nine years, he first made his home at prairie du chien, where he resided one year, thence removing to green bay for the remainder of his term of office, at which place he continued to reside for a period of twenty years. in he was appointed one of the commissioners to locate military routes from green bay to chicago and prairie du chien. in he represented the counties west of the lake in the michigan legislative council at detroit, at which council the first legislative action was taken affecting these counties. at that session he introduced a bill to create the state of michigan, which was adopted. the result of this action was the creation of the territory of wisconsin in . in mr. doty was chosen territorial delegate to congress from wisconsin, in which capacity he served four years, when he was appointed governor. he served as governor three years. he acted as commissioner in negotiating indian treaties. in he was a member of the first constitutional convention. in he was elected member of congress, and was re-elected in . somewhere in the ' s he built a log house on an island in fox river, just above butte des mortes, and lived there with his family many years. there he gathered ancient curiosities, consisting of indian implements, and relics of the mound builders. this log house still stands and is kept intact with the curiosities gathered there by the present owner, john roberts, to whom they were presented by mrs. fitzgerald, a daughter of gov. doty, in . the cabin overlooks the cities of menasha and neenah, and the old council ground at the outlet of lake winnebago, where the fox and sioux indians held annual councils, also the old battle ground where the fox indians routed the sioux in one of the hardest fought battles on record. in judge doty was appointed superintendent of indian affairs, and subsequently was appointed governor of utah territory, which place he held until his death in . wisconsin had no truer friend nor more faithful and efficient servant. his aims were exalted, and he deservedly held a high place in the affections of his fellow citizens. james h. lockwood.--mr. lockwood was the only practicing lawyer at the organization of judge doty's court. he was the pioneer lawyer in prairie du chien, and the first lawyer admitted to the bar in what is now wisconsin. he practiced in crawford, brown and mackinaw counties. he was born in peru, clinton county, new york, dec. , . he married julia warren in . she died at prairie du chien in . he married his second wife, sarah a. wright, in st. louis, missouri, in . she died at prairie du chien in , much esteemed as one of the pioneer women of the upper mississippi, and respected as a devout christian, whose faith was proven by her works. the early years of mr. lockwood were spent on a farm. he had not the privileges of a classical education, and he may be said to be self educated. in he commenced the study of law. in he was sutler in the united states army, and in at the post at mackinaw. from to he was an indian trader, his home being at prairie du chien. in orders came to abandon the fort at prairie du chien. the soldiers were transferred to fort snelling, but arms and ammunition were left in charge of john marsh, sub-indian agent. mr. lockwood's family was the only american family at the post. on june th of the ensuing year he left for new york by the wisconsin river route, mrs. lockwood remaining at home. the winnebagoes were a little troublesome at this time, the more so as the soldiers were removed from the post, but no serious disturbance was anticipated. the first night after leaving prairie du chien mr. l. met some winnebagoes, and all camped together for the night; but the indians, under their chief, red bird, left the camp stealthily before morning, and, proceeding to prairie du chien, entered the house of mr. lockwood with loaded rifles. mrs. l., greatly frightened, fled to the store, then in charge of duncan graham, an old english trader. the indians followed mrs. l. into the store. graham counseled with them and they left. as they were acting suspiciously a messenger was sent after mr. lockwood in haste. he returned on the twenty-seventh and found the inhabitants assembled, but without ammunition or means of defense. the indians told the people not to go into the fort, as they would destroy it. as the day passed pickets and embankments were built around an old tavern. about sundown a keelboat came down the river and landed, bearing three dead bodies and several wounded. the sides of the boat had been riddled by bullets. this ghastly arrival increased the panic. mr. lockwood urged organization for defense. he was selected as captain but declined, and thomas mcnair was chosen, who ordered an immediate removal to the fort. repairs were made and preparations for successful defense. on the day the fighting commenced red bird and his companions shot and killed gagner and lipcap. mrs. gagner, with rifle in hand, held red bird at bay till she escaped with one child into the rushes, whence she was rescued by a soldier on patrol duty. the soldier went to the house, where he found gagner and lipcap lying dead upon the floor, and an infant child, scalped and with its throat cut, lying under the bed. gov. cass, of michigan, arrived on the fourth of july, greatly to the relief of the besieged garrison, which he mustered into the service of the united states, appointing mr. lockwood quartermaster. another company, under capt. abner field, was sent from galena to their relief. mr. lockwood sent a messenger to col. snelling at fort snelling, who promptly sent down a company in a keelboat. the force thus concentrated at the fort was sufficient to overcome the indians, who were in no plight to engage in a war with the united states. as the result of a council held by the winnebagoes in the presence of the officers of the garrison, the indians agreed to surrender red bird and kee-waw to maj. whistler, the indians asking that the prisoners should not be ironed or harshly treated. maj. whistler promised that they should be treated with consideration, and red bird, rising from the ground, said, "i am ready," and was marched off with his accomplice, kee-waw, to a tent in the rear and placed under guard. the prisoners were handed over to gen. atkinson, and given into the hands of the civil authorities. they were chained and imprisoned, which so chafed the proud spirit of red bird that he drooped and soon died of a broken heart. kee-waw was afterward pardoned by the president of the united states. for this and other outrages perpetrated upon the settlers, not a single indian suffered the penalty of death, excepting red bird, whose pride may be said to have been his executioner. mr. lockwood continued in mercantile business at prairie du chien many years. he held many positions of honor and trust, acquitting himself with credit. he built the first saw mill north of the wisconsin river, on the menomonie river. the famous menomonie mills now occupy the same site. a small mill had been commenced prior to this on black river, but the indians had burned this mill before it was completed. mr. lockwood died at his home, aug. , . john s. lockwood.--john s., the brother of james h. lockwood, was born in in new york; came to prairie du chien in , and thereafter engaged in merchandising. he was a man of exemplary habits and a member of the presbyterian church most of his life. he raised an interesting family. he died at his home at prairie du chien in . samuel gilbert settled at prairie du chien in . he was of kentucky birth, a blacksmith by trade, and a model man in habits. mr. gilbert, in , became one of the proprietors of the chippewa falls mill. he afterward lived at albany. he followed mississippi river piloting, removed to burlington, iowa, and died in . mr. gilbert left four sons, oliver, lumberman in dunn county, wisconsin, john and i. dallam, lumber merchants at burlington, iowa, and samuel. michael brisbois.--we find the names of brisbois and some others mentioned in the proceedings of the commission held by col. isaac lee in , to adjust claims to land in prairie du chien and vicinity. michael brisbois testified that he had been a resident of the prairie thirty-nine years, which would date his settlement as far back as . mr. brisbois lived a stirring and eventful life. he died in , leaving several children. joseph, the oldest, became a man of prominence and held many offices in state and church. charles, the second son, while yet a boy went to mckenzie river, british possessions, in the employ of the northwestern fur company, where he lived thirty years beyond the arctic circle, and raised a large family. in he returned to prairie du chien, but his children, reared in the cold climate of the frozen zone, soon after his return sickened, and most of them died, unable to endure the change to a climate so much milder. bernard w., a third son, was born at prairie du chien, oct. , . he was well educated and grew up a leading and influential citizen. as a child he had witnessed the taking of fort shelby by the british in , and its recapture as fort mckay by the united states troops in . during the red bird indian war he served as second lieutenant, and for several years was stationed at fort crawford. he was also a prominent agent or confidential adviser in the fur company which had its headquarters at prairie du chien. he was sheriff of crawford county and held the office of county treasurer and other positions of trust. in president grant appointed him consul to vernier, belgium, but ill health compelled an early return. mr. brisbois married into the la chapelle family. he died in , leaving an interesting family. pierre lapoint was also before the commission of col. lee as an early resident, having lived at the prairie since . the testimony of these early citizens served to establish the ancient tenure of the lands by french settlers, a tenure so ancient that no one could definitely give a date for its commencement. mr. lapoint was a farmer. he reared a large family of children, and died about . joseph rolette.--joseph rolette was at one time chief justice of the county court of crawford county. he was of french descent and was born in quebec, l. c., in . he was educated for the catholic priesthood. in he came to prairie du chien. in the early part of his mature life he was an active and successful trader with the indians on the upper mississippi. he was a man of keen perceptions and considerable ambition. he joined the british at the siege of detroit, and was an officer at the capture of mackinaw. he was in command of a company in the campaign of the british from mackinaw to prairie du chien, and aided in taking the american stockade. his early education and associations inclined him to espouse the british cause during the war of , which he did with all the ardor and enthusiasm of his nature. to his family he was kind and indulgent, giving his children the best education possible. one daughter, married to capt. hoe, of the united states army, was a very superior woman. one son, joseph, received all the aid that money could give, and might have risen to distinction, but he early contracted intemperate habits which became in later life tenaciously fixed. this son was at one time a member of the minnesota legislature. joseph rolette, sr., died at prairie du chien in . hercules dousman.--the leading indian trader of the upper mississippi, the prominent adviser at indian treaties and payments and the trusted agent of the american fur company, was hercules dousman, a keen, shrewd man, and universally influential with the indians, with whom it might be said his word was law. he understood all the intricacies involved in the indian treaty and the half-breed annuities and payments. his extended favors and credits to the indians, properly proven, of course, would be recognized and paid at the regular payments. he accumulated through these agencies great wealth, which he retained to his dying day. he came to prairie du chien, in the employ of joseph rolette, in . he afterward married the widow of rolette. he died in prairie du chien in . rev. david lowry.--a noble, big hearted kentuckian, a minister of the cumberland presbyterian church, he was located by the government as farmer and teacher of the indians on yellow river, near prairie du chien, in . for years this good man labored with unquestioned zeal for the welfare of the untutored indian. mr. lowry informed me, while at his post, that he was fearful that all his labor was labor lost, or worse than useless. the indian pupil learned just enough to fit him for the worst vices. the introduction of whisky was a corrupting agency, in itself capable of neutralizing every effort for the moral and intellectual advancement of the indian, with whom intoxication produces insanity. he felt quite disheartened as to the prospect of accomplishing any good. he died at st. cloud some time in the ' s. chief justice charles dunn.--when wisconsin territory was organized in , charles dunn was appointed chief justice. he served as judge until wisconsin became a state in . he was of irish descent and was born in kentucky in . he studied law in kentucky and illinois, and was admitted to practice in at jonesboro, illinois. he was chief clerk of the illinois house of representatives five years. he was one of the commissioners of the illinois and michigan canal. in he was one of a party which surveyed and platted the first town of chicago, and superintended the first sale of town lots there. he was captain of a company during the black hawk war in , and was severely wounded through mistake by a sentinel on duty. in he was a member of the illinois house of representatives. in , as judge, he held his first court in crawford county. in this court, in , indictments were found against certain individuals for selling liquor to whites and indians contrary to law, when, by evasions, continuances and technicalities, the suits would go by the board. in one case the charge given to the jury by this dignified and courteous judge dunn was as follows: "gentlemen of the jury: unless you are satisfied that the defendants in this case did deal out, in clear, unadulterated quantities, intoxicating drinks, it is your imperative duty to discharge them." the jury, of course, discharged the defendants. aside from his drinking habits, which interfered much with his usefulness, he was a genial gentleman and regarded by his associates as an eminent jurist. he sometimes kept the court waiting till he should become sober, and on one occasion came near losing his life in a drunken spree. he jumped through an upper window of tainter's hotel, and escaped with only a broken leg. judge dunn was a member of the second wisconsin constitutional convention. he was state senator in - - and . he died at mineral point, april , . rev. alfred brunson, a distinguished pioneer preacher in the west, was born in connecticut, , and received there a common school education. his father died while he was yet a minor, and with commendable zeal and filial love he devoted himself to providing for his mother and her bereaved family, working at the trade of a shoemaker till he was seventeen years of age, when he enlisted as a soldier under gen. harrison and served under him until the peace of , when he entered the methodist ministry, in which, by industry and close application, he became quite learned and eminent as a divine. his active ministry extended to the long period of sixty-seven years. he was the first methodist minister north of the wisconsin river. in he established a mission at kaposia and thence removed to red rock (newport), in washington county, minnesota. in he was a member of the wisconsin legislature. in he was indian agent at lapointe, on lake superior. mr. brunson was very prominent in the councils of his own church, having represented his conference several times in the general conference of that body. he is also the author of many essays and other publications, among them "the western pioneer," in two volumes, a most entertaining and instructive account of life in the west. mr. brunson was married to eunice burr, a relative of the famous aaron burr. she was a woman of great intelligence and of excellent qualities of heart as well as mind. her heart overflowed with sympathy for the sick and distressed, and she won by her care for them the affectionate title of "mother brunson." she died in . rev. alfred brunson, though an itinerant, was so favored in his various fields of labor that he was able to have his permanent home at prairie du chien, where he lived from until the time of his death in . many incidents in mr. brunson's career are worthy of permanent record. he was among the most hardy and daring of the pioneers. he came down the ohio and up the mississippi in a barge to prairie du chien in , the barge laden with household furniture and the material for a frame building which, on landing, he proceeded immediately to erect. this house, which he and his family occupied till his death, is still standing. when he established his mission at kaposia he was greatly in need of an interpreter. an officer at fort snelling owned a negro slave who had been a methodist before going into the army in the service of his master. afterward he had married a dakota woman and by associating with the indians had learned their language. this young negro, james thompson, was a slave, and mr. brunson could only secure his services by purchasing him outright, which he did, paying the price of $ , , the money for which was raised by subscription in ohio. "jim" was presented with his "free papers," and was soon interpreting the gospel to the indians at kaposia. this is the only instance on record of a slave being sold on minnesota soil. it will be remembered, however, that the historical "dred scott" was also the property of an officer at the fort, surgeon emerson. james thompson resided in st. paul in the later years of his life, and died there in . ira brunson.--ira, the eldest son of rev. a. brunson, was born in ohio in , and came to prairie du chien in . he was a member of the legislature during the years - - and . he was also postmaster many years. he was continuously in office in crawford county until his death in . in he was appointed special deputy united states marshal for the purpose of removing the settlers from the fort snelling reservation. these settlers were mostly from selkirk, manitoba. they had been driven out by the grasshoppers and, fleeing southward, had settled about fort snelling to be under the protection of the fort. the government, however, considered them intruders and ordered mr. brunson to remove them outside the reservation, and to destroy all their dwellings and farm improvements, which disagreeable duty he performed as well, perhaps, as it could be performed; he, as he afterward told me, being satisfied in his own mind that the removal would be for their ultimate good, the influences of the fort and of the associations of the motley crowd of hangers on around it being somewhat demoralizing. at any rate the eviction of these western acadians has never aroused the sympathies of the poet and sentimentalist as did that of the acadians of the east. john h. folsom, brother of w. h. c. folsom, was born in machias, maine, dec. , . he was engaged during his youth in clerking. in he made a voyage as supercargo of a vessel to the congo coast. in he came to michigan, and in to prairie du chien, where he has since continuously resided. he was married in to angelica pion, who died in , leaving no children. he has a very retentive memory, and is quoted as an authority in the local history of prairie du chien. the writer is indebted to him for many particulars referring to the early history of that city. ezekiel tainter.--mr. tainter came to prairie du chien in from vermont. he had at first fort contracts, but afterward engaged in merchandising, farming and hotel keeping. he also served as sheriff. he was eccentric and original in his methods, and some amusing stories are told of his prowess in arresting criminals. on one occasion he was about to arrest a criminal. having summoned his _posse_, he followed the man until he took refuge in a cabin with one door and two windows. stationing his men before the door, he thus addressed them: "brave boys, i am about to go through this door. if i fall, as i undoubtedly will, you must rush over my dead body and seize the ruffian." giving the word of command, he plunged through the door and captured the criminal, apparently much astonished at finding himself still alive. at his tavern, one morning, a boarder announced that he had been robbed. uncle zeke quieted him, and, quickly examining his rooms, found one boarder missing. it was gray twilight. he ordered all to retire but the man who had been robbed. the two sat quietly down as they saw a man approaching the house from the bluffs. to their surprise it was the absentee approaching. as he stepped on the piazza, uncle zeke dexterously tripped him up with his stiff leg, and seizing him by the throat, shouted to the astonished miscreant: "where is the money you stole? tell me at once, or you will never get up." the prostrate culprit, thoroughly frightened, tremblingly answered, "i hid it in the bluff." they marched him to the spot, recovered the money and generously allowed the thief his freedom on the condition of his leaving the country. uncle zeke lived to a good old age, and died at the residence of his son andrew, in menomonie, wisconsin. wyram knowlton.--mr. knowlton was born in chenango county, new york, in , came to wisconsin in , and commenced the study of law. he was admitted to practice in platteville, and in came to prairie du chien and opened a law office. in he enlisted and served in the mexican war, after which he resumed practice. in he was appointed judge of the sixth judicial district of wisconsin, and served six years. he held the first court in pierce county in . he was a man of fine ability. he died in the north part of the state in . robert lester.--a melancholy interest attaches to the memory of this man on account of his early tragical death. he had come to prairie du chien in , and in had been elected sheriff. next year his official duties called him to the menomonie and chippewa valleys. on his return he had left lockwood's mills on the menomonie, and had passed through trempealeau and was coasting along the west shore, when an indian hailed him, calling for bread. lester passed on without responding. as he reached a point of land the indian ran across the point and, awaiting his approach, shot him through the heart. lester rose as the ball struck him, and fell overboard. mr. jean bruno, proprietor of the chippewa mills, was on his way up river in a canoe, and witnessed the whole transaction. mr. bruno described the whole tragic scene. popular excitement ran high at prairie du chien. a party of men volunteered to search for lester's body, which was found at the place of the murder and brought back for interment at prairie du chien. the indian, a sioux, was arrested and kept in jail a long time, and although he had acknowledged to some of his indian friends that he had killed lester, he was acquitted. it was a cold blooded and atrocious murder, and the proof of the indian's guilt was overwhelming, as he was, by his own confession, the murderer; still he was not punished. in this case the prisoner did not languish and die in jail of a broken heart as did red bird, the murderer of gagner and lipcap. as a rule the courts dealt very leniently with indian criminals. thomas pendleton burnett was born in virginia in . he studied law and was admitted to the bar in paris, kentucky. he was appointed sub-indian agent under j. m. street, in . he came to prairie du chien in and entered upon the duties of the agency. he also practiced law. in he was a member of the michigan territorial council and its president. in , after his term of office expired, he married a daughter of alfred brunson and, continuing the practice of law, became quite eminent for his skill, and acquired an extensive practice. he was a fluent speaker, well skilled in the management of the cases intrusted to his care. in he removed to a farm at patch grove, grant county. he was a member of the wisconsin constitutional convention which met in . he served but a few weeks when he was called home by the death of his mother and the sickness of his wife. the fatigue of a twenty-four hours' ride of eighty-five miles in a rude lumber wagon was too much for his not very rugged constitution, and four days after his mother's death he followed her to the world of spirits. his devoted wife survived him but three hours. under circumstances of such unusual sadness did this brilliant and promising lawyer and citizen take his departure from earth. his death created a profound sensation throughout the entire northwest, where he was so well and favorably known. henry dodge, the first governor of wisconsin territory, was born in vincennes, indiana, oct. , . he came to the lead mines of wisconsin in . in he took part in the black hawk war, an uprising of the sac and fox indians against the united states government. mr. dodge participated as a general at the battle of bad axe, his regiment occupying the front rank in that battle. april , , he was appointed governor of wisconsin by president andrew jackson, reappointed in by president van buren, and by president polk in , serving three terms. from to , during the presidency of harrison and his successor (tyler), he served as territorial delegate to congress. in he was elected united states senator for the short term, and re-elected in , senator walker being his colleague. on the occasion of the motion to admit california, the wisconsin senators were instructed by the legislature to vote against the measure. senator walker disregarded the instruction and voted for the measure. senator dodge, although extremely ill at the time, had himself carried to the senate chamber that he might record his vote adversely to the bill. gov. dodge rose to the highest position in his state, and chiefly by his own unaided efforts. as a soldier he was brave and efficient, as a governor, congressional delegate and senator he was clear headed, cautious and wise, and altogether a citizen of whom the state might justly be proud. he died in burlington, iowa, june , . george w. jones was born in vincennes, indiana. he graduated at transylvania university, kentucky, in . he was educated for the law, but ill health prevented him from practicing. he, however, served as clerk of the united states district court in missouri in , and during the black hawk war served as aid-de-camp to gen. dodge. in he was appointed colonel of militia, and was promoted to a major generalship. after the war he served as judge of a county court. in he was elected delegate to congress from the territory of michigan, or from that part of it lying west of lake michigan, and remained a delegate until the formation of wisconsin territory, in , when he was elected delegate from the new territory. in he was appointed surveyor general for wisconsin. he was removed in , but reappointed by president polk, and continued in office until elected senator from the state of iowa, which position he held for six years, and was then appointed by president buchanan minister to new granada. during the civil war his sympathies were with the south and he was imprisoned for awhile at fort warren under a charge of disloyalty. he has resided in dubuque, iowa, since the formation of iowa territory. he still lives, a hale and hearty old gentleman, and served as a delegate to the waterways convention held in st. paul, september, . s. g. and s. l. tainter and john thomas (father of hon. ormsby thomas, representative from wisconsin in the congress of - ) with their families came to prairie du chien in . the messrs. tainter and thomas died many years ago. chapter ii. stillwater and st. croix county. in september, , reluctantly i bade adieu to prairie du chien with its picturesque bluffs and historic associations, and embarked on the steamer highland mary, capt. atchison, to seek a home and more salubrious climate further north. the voyage was without incident worthy of note, till we reached st. croix lake, in the midst of a crashing thunder storm and a deluge of rain, which did not prevent us from eagerly scanning the scenery of the lake. the shores were as yet almost without inhabitants. the home of paul carli, a two story house at the mouth of bolles creek, was the first dwelling above prescott, on the west side of the lake. a few french residences were to be seen above on the west side. on the east bank, below the mouth of willow river, where hudson is now situated, were three log houses owned by peter bouchea, joseph manesse, and louis massey. on the high hill west, nearly opposite willow river, stood the farm house of elam greely, and on the same side, on the point, in full view of stillwater, stood the farm house of john allen. with the exception of these few dwellings, the shores of the lake were untouched by the hand of man, and spread before us in all their primitive beauty. there were gently rounded hills sloping to the water's edge, and crowned with groves of shrubby oak, amidst which, especially at the outlet of streams into the lake, the darker pines stood out boldly against the sky. we passed on over the clear, blue expanse of water on which was no floating thing save our boat and the wild fowl which were scared and flew away at our approach, till we reached the head of the lake at stillwater, the end of our journey. november th my family arrived on the steamer cecilia, capt. throckmorton. stillwater in . we landed just in front of the store of nelson & co. just below the landing was a clear, cold spring, bubbling out of the earth, or the rock rather. it was walled in and pretty well filled with speckled trout. on the opposite side of the street walter r. vail had a house and store; north of vail's store the house and store of socrates nelson. up main street, west side, stood anson northrup's hotel and greely & blake's post office and store. one street back was the residence of john e. mower, and north of this the mill boarding house, and in the rear the shanty store of the mill company, where the sawyer house now stands. up a ravine stood the shanty residence of john smith. in a ravine next to nelson & co.'s store was the residence of wm. cove. on main street, opposite greely & blake's store, was the residence of albert harris. on the shore of the lake, north of chestnut street, was john mckusick's saw mill. sylvester stateler's blacksmith shop stood just south of the mill. in brown's dakotah, now schulenberg's addition, near the old log court house, was a log hotel, kept by robert kennedy. this was stillwater in . st. croix county. from to this valley was under the jurisdiction of crawford county, michigan, there being no white inhabitants save indian traders. there was no law dispensed in this region, excepting the law that might makes right. in the territory of wisconsin, comprising all of michigan west of the great lakes; also all that portion of missouri territory out of which was formed the state of iowa, which was organized as a territory in , and admitted as a state in ; also that portion of minnesota which lies west of the present state--yet unorganized--known as dakota, was organized. the year forms a new era in our history. gov. henry dodge, of wisconsin, on the part of the national government, was appointed to negotiate with the ojibways. they met at fort snelling. a treaty was made, the indians ceding to the united states all their lands east of the mississippi, to near the headwaters of the st. croix and chippewa rivers. a deputation of dakotas at washington, the same year, ceded all their lands east of the mississippi to the parent government, thus opening to settlement all this portion of minnesota and wisconsin. but few adventurers made their way into this far off region, however, for many years. a steamer once in two months was the only mode of travel, excepting by birch canoe. in october, , at prairie du chien, i met a party who had ascended the mississippi and the st. croix as far as st. croix falls. according to their account they had found the place where creation ended, where a large river, capable of bearing a steamer, burst out of a rock like that which moses smote. they had seen "the elephant with his quills erect," and were returning satisfied to their new england home. they had entered the since famous dalles of the st. croix, located at the head of navigation on that river. in the year , being the year succeeding the purchase of the lands bordering on the st. croix river and a portion of her tributaries, may be dated the commencement of the settlement of the st. croix valley; but with the exception of the hon. joseph r. brown, the parties that i shall enumerate as opening business, came here for the purpose of lumbering, and in no instance as permanent settlers. the valley was considered too far north and the soil too sterile for cultivation, but many of those who came here in found out their mistake and made choice of the valley for their permanent homes. they were afterward abundantly satisfied with the healthfulness of the climate and the fertility of the soil. several companies were formed this year for the ostensible purpose of lumbering, many members of which became permanent settlers. the first dismemberment of the st. croix valley from crawford county was by the organization of the county of st. croix. joseph r. brown was elected representative to the legislature, from the north part of crawford county. his residence at that time was gray cloud, now in washington county. mr. brown introduced the bill for the organization of st. croix county, which passed and was approved by the governor of wisconsin, jan. , . the writer of these sketches was employed by messrs. brown and brunson (the representatives from this district), in december, , to take them with a team from prairie du chien to madison. one of the indispensable requirements for traveling in those days was a large "black betty," which was the butt of much wit and humor. mr. brown said the contents of old betty must establish a new county away up in the northwest. the deed was done--the act did pass. i don't know whether old betty came back to assist in organizing the county or not. it is well to say mr. brown acquitted himself with honor to his constituents, and was successful in the one great object for which he sought the election. this was the precursor to coming events--a shadow cast before. for it was under this organization that northwest wisconsin and minnesota first obeyed the mandates of law and order. under the provision of the act of organization, hazen mooers, of gray cloud, samuel burkelo, of marine, and joseph r. brown, of dakotah, were constituted a board of county commissioners with county seat located at dakotah. this town was located at the head of lake st. croix, on the west side, on unsurveyed government lands, known as "joe brown's claim." when the wisconsin legislature of made this the county seat of st. croix county it was named dakotah. judge irwin's court in . the first district court north of prairie du chien was called at dakotah, st. croix county. this county had been assigned to judge irwin's district (green bay). the time assigned for the court was june, . judge irwin wended his way up fox river to the portage, down the wisconsin to prairie du chien, up the mississippi to st. paul, and across from st. paul to dakotah with guides. at dakotah the regular officers were all absent, but he found at the court house two young men named brown and six frenchmen from st. paul and little canada, summoned as jurors by sheriff lawrence. judge irwin remained one night, slept in deer skins in the county building, subsisting meanwhile on venison and bear steak. no calendar was to be found and the judge and jurors left for home. the first commissioners' meeting was held oct. , . at this meeting much important work was done. an acre of ground at the county seat was selected for county buildings. a contract to erect a court house according to specifications was let to j. r. brown, he to receive for the same eight hundred dollars. the parties agreed upon a deed or conveyance of ground, a synopsis of which we append. the conveyance cites and reiterates a wisconsin legislative law establishing st. croix county, giving to the people the right to locate the county seat by vote and to the county commissioners power to erect county buildings, the selected location to be the permanent seat of justice of said county. it further provides that the county commissioners shall carry into effect the law of congress of the united states, entitled "an act granting to counties or parishes, in which public lands are situate, the right of pre-emption to one-fourth section of land, for seats of justice within the same." approved may , . it then cites the vote taken aug. , , locating the county seat at "brown's warehouse, at the head of lake st. croix." further conditions are set forth in compliance with the law, confirming the location on joseph r. brown's land claim. this is the first recorded deed in st. croix county. thirty dollars was allowed to j. r. brown and w. b. dibble, each, for carrying election returns to prairie du chien. the first abstract of votes polled in st. croix county was for delegate to congress and for county officers. for delegate to congress the following vote was cast: henry dodge, seventeen; jonathan e. arnold, ten. samuel burkelo, hazen mooers and w. b. dibble were elected county commissioners; william holcombe, county treasurer and register of deeds; phineas lawrence, sheriff; j. r. brown, county clerk and clerk of court, and philander prescott, assessor. the first recorded deed of property in stillwater was from walter r. vail to rufus s. king, transferring for a consideration of $ , a tract bounded east by lake st. croix and south and north by lands owned by churchill and nelson. three election precincts had been established in this portion of crawford county prior to the organization of st. croix county: caw-caw-baw-kank, embracing the county adjacent to st. croix falls; dakotah, the county at the head of lake st. croix, and chan-wak-an the gray cloud settlement, on the mississippi. on july , , the commissioners held a meeting and established voting precincts as follows: _gray cloud_--judges of election, hazen mooers, david howe, joseph haskell. _mouth of st. croix lake_--judges of election, p. prescott, oscar p. burris, john burke. _marine mills_--judges of election, asa parker, samuel burkelo, t. harrington. _falls of st. croix_--judges of election, joseph w. furber, joshua l. taylor, jesse taylor. _pokegama_--judges of election, jeremiah russell, e. myers, e. l. ely. feb. , , st. paul and stillwater were made election precincts by the wisconsin legislature, and stillwater was made the county seat. the constituted authorities were not successful in making out assessments and collecting county revenues. the first estimate of expenditures for the county was for , and amounted to $ . this included the estimate for holding one term of court. up to the time of changing the county seat to stillwater much dissatisfaction existed as to the manner in which the county finances had been managed, and there was a general revolt, a refusal to pay taxes. in consequence, the county building at dakotah remained unfinished and was finally abandoned by the county authorities. j. r. brown lost on his contract on account of this failure and abandonment. the first successful collection of taxes in st. croix county, considered legal, was in . capt. wm. holcombe acted during this period as clerk of the commissioners, and register of deeds. in he deputized w. h. c. folsom as deputy clerk and register of deeds, and transmitted the records from st. croix falls to stillwater. [a] early history of stillwater. in the spring of jacob fisher made a claim on unsurveyed lands at the head of lake st. croix, immediately south of dakotah, spotting and blazing the trees to mark the limits of his claim. mr. fisher thought it a good site for a saw mill, and made an offer to elias mckean and calvin f. leach of the entire claim on condition that they would build a mill. mckusick and greely were looking for a mill site; mr. fisher referred them to mckean and leach. it was agreed that the four should take the claim and erect the mill. greely improved and held the claim, while mckusick went to st. louis and procured mill irons and supplies. mckean and leach operated in the pinery. by april , , the mill was finished and in operation. this was the first frame building erected in stillwater. it stood on the lake shore, east of main street, lot , block . the second frame building was mckusick's boarding house, west of main street, on block . john allen's family was the first to locate in stillwater. mr. allen came in the spring of , and subsequently removed to california. the second family was that of anson northrup coming soon after. mr. northrup built a public house on the west side of main street, just north of nelson's alley. soon afterward came widow edwards and family from ohio, relatives of the northrups; mrs. northrup being a daughter of widow edwards. socrates nelson came about this time and built the first store in stillwater. his family joined him soon afterward. the first marriage was that of jesse taylor and abbie edwards, j. w. furber, esq., officiating justice. the second marriage was that of william cove to nancy edwards in may, . the first white child born was willie taylor, son of jesse taylor, in . a daughter, maud maria, was born to mr. and mrs. paul carli in dakotah (schulenburg's addition to stillwater), in . stillwater derives its name from its appropriate location on the banks of the still waters of lake st. croix. a post office was established in , and elam greely was appointed postmaster. the first business partnership was that of the saw mill company, already noted. we give here in full the articles of agreement as the first written and the oldest on record in washington county. this document is important not only as fixing a date for the origin or founding of stillwater, but as an important event, as it thus early laid the foundation of the future prosperity of the city, and indicated the direction in which its energies should be chiefly turned: [_copy of agreement._] this agreement, made and entered into this twenty-sixth day of october, anno domini eighteen hundred and forty-three, by the following named individuals, viz.: john mckusick, elias mckean, elam greely, and calvin f. leach, for the purpose of building a saw mill near the head of lake st. croix, wisconsin territory, and for carrying on the lumbering business in all its various branches. _article first_--it is understood by this agreement, that the heretofore named individuals form themselves into a company to continue and exist by the name of the stillwater lumber company. _article second_--it is agreed to by the heretofore named individuals, that the whole amount of property owned and business done by the aforesaid company shall be included in fifteen shares, and to be divided and owned by each individual of the aforesaid company as follows, viz.: john mckusick, five-fifteenths; elias mckean, three-fifteenths; elam greely, four-fifteenths; and calvin f. leach, three-fifteenths. _article third_--it is furthermore understood, that each proprietor of the aforesaid company shall pay his proportion of all the expenses arising from all the business done or transacted by the aforesaid company, and to continue the same ratio, so long a time as said company shall exist and continue to do business under the present form, and likewise any gain or loss, arising or accruing from any or all of the business done by the aforesaid company, shall be shared or sustained by each proprietor of the aforesaid company, in the same ratio as above named, in proportion to each above named proprietor's share of stock owned in the aforesaid company. _article fourth_--it is furthermore agreed to, that the whole amount of money or property that each or either of the proprietors of the aforesaid company shall invest, advance, or pay for the benefit or use of the aforesaid company, the same amount shall be credited to the separate credit of the proprietor or either of the proprietors of the aforesaid company making such investments, on the books of accounts kept by the aforesaid company. _article fifth_--it is furthermore understood, that for the amount of money or property that any one of the proprietors of the aforesaid company shall invest, advance, or pay for the benefit or use of the aforesaid company, more than his proportional share of the whole amount of money or property invested by the aforesaid company, the same amount of money, with interest, shall be paid or refunded back to said proprietor by the aforesaid company, out of the first proceeds arising from the business done by the company aforesaid. _article sixth_--it is furthermore understood, that in case any one of the aforesaid proprietors should at any time hereafter be disposed to sell, transfer or dispose of his share of stock owned in the aforesaid company, he shall first pay to said company all the liabilities or indebtedness of said share of stock, and then give said company the preference of purchasing and owning said share of stock, at the same rates by which said proprietor may have an opportunity to sell said shares of stock. _article seventh_--it is furthermore understood that the proprietors of the aforesaid company, individually, shall have no right, or power, to sign any obligation or due bill, make any contract, or transact any business of importance in the name of, or binding on, the aforesaid company, except some one proprietor of the aforesaid company should hereafter be fully authorized by the aforesaid company to act and transact business as agent for the aforesaid company. in testimony whereof, we hereunto set our hands and seals this twenty-sixth day of october, anno domini eighteen hundred and forty-three. john mckusick, elam greely, elias mckean, c. f. leach. attest: c. simonds. this agreement and dates are taken from the original book of records in the possession of john mckusick. after this agreement was signed, until mr. mckusick became the sole owner, the business was conducted by mutual agreement, there being no constituted agent, except in case of an emergency. the mill boarding house, a two story building, erected in , was burned in , and immediately rebuilt. in j. h. brewster built a small store. mckusick's store was built the same year, on the southwest corner of main and myrtle streets. some smaller buildings were erected this year. in a verbal agreement was made with regard to land claims, by which brown's claim was recognized as extending along the lake shore north of battle hollow, where the minnesota state prison now stands. south of battle hollow, along the lake shore to nelson, extending three-fourths of a mile west, was the claim of the mill company, originally held by fisher. south of nelson's alley, one-half mile down the lake, three-fourths of a mile west, was s. nelson's claim. when the government survey was made these claims and lines were amicably adjusted and confirmed. a congressional law was in existence making provisions for villages and cities built on unsurveyed lands, that such lands should be equitably divided and surveyed into lots, and the actual settler or occupant should be protected in his rights. in may, , a desire was expressed by citizens of st. paul and stillwater for the opening of new roads between these cities. the traveled road up to that time was by haskell's and bissell's mounds. louis roberts and the writer examined a route by white bear lake. a road was established south of this route in june. in july i started up the st. croix river with joseph brewster, in a batteau, to put up hay for elam greely on kanabec river. we poled our batteau with outfit and camped where now stands the village of franconia. the next morning early we entered the picturesque dalles of the st. croix, then cordelled our boat over baker's falls, and landed at the village of st. croix falls. this village, the first american settlement on the st. croix, had one large mill with six saws. the water power was utilized by means of a permanent dam with massive piers. a warehouse was perched in a romantic situation amidst the cliffs of the dalles and furnished with a tramway or wooden railway extending to the summit of the cliffs, for the transportation of goods. a boarding house dubbed the "barlow house," another the "soap grease exchange," and a few small tenement houses, constituted the village. the leading business men were james purinton, wm. holcombe, joseph bowron and lewis barlow. we spent half a day in making a portage around the st. croix falls. the wind being fair, on the third day we sailed as far as sunrise island. at wolf creek we passed an indian trading post. in front of sunrise island and on the west side of the st. croix river, a little below the mouth of sunrise river, stood the trading post of maurice m. samuels, long known as one of the most remarkable and notorious men on the frontier. he was a jew, but had married a chippewa woman, claiming that he had married one of his own people, the indians being, according to his theory, descendants of the lost tribes of israel. on the sixth day we came to the farm of jeremiah russell, on pokegama lake. we found him a pleasant gentleman, engaged as an indian farmer. we paddled across the lake to the presbyterian mission. mr. boutwell, the superintendent, was absent. the mission was pleasantly located, the management was excellent, the crops were in fair condition, and well cultivated. everything about the mission betokened good management. next day we went to a hay meadow opposite the mouth of ground house creek, where we put up on this and adjacent meadows sixty tons of hay. we left on the twenty-fourth, camping the first night at chengwatana. on the morning of the twenty-fifth, while passing down kanabec river, our ears were greeted with some most horrible and unearthly noises. on turning a bend in the river we saw a large body of indians cutting indescribable antics, in the river and on the shore, chasing each other, reeling and staggering to and fro, yelling and firing guns. they seemed a lot of bedlamites turned out as if to dispute our passage down the river. pass them now we must. it was too late to retreat. our batteau was light. i was in the bow, brewster was in the stern. the yelling and uproar grew each moment more horrible. brewster said: "keep the bow in the best water and pass them in a hurry." he was of great strength; every set of his pole would almost lift the boat from the water. while we were passing several guns were leveled at us, but such was the noise that if any were fired we did not hear them. we were glad when we passed out of range and hearing. while passing we caught a glimpse of the cause of the unusual disturbance, some whisky barrels, and drunken savages around them, staggering, fighting or lying on the ground in drunken stupor. landing at samuels' camp, we learned of him that one myers had hidden a couple of barrels of whisky on kanabec river, that the indians had found them, and the jollification we had witnessed would last till the whisky was all gone. we arrived at stillwater without further adventure. in july i made another visit to prairie du chien. the mail packet for fort snelling, on which i expected to return, broke her shaft and returned to st. louis for repairs. the postmaster at prairie du chien offered me seventy dollars to carry the mail to the fort, which offer i accepted. i bought a skiff, blankets and provisions, hired one man and started. we poled, paddled and rowed against a strong current, the low water compelling us to keep near the centre of the river. we arrived at bully wells' on lake pepin on the fifth evening and politely asked the privilege of stopping with him and were promptly refused. it was raining very hard at the time. we drew our skiff up on the shore, turned it over for a shelter, and crawled beneath it with the mail. as it was a cold, wet night, we suffered severely. as we were passing an island above red wing, the day following, we saw some sioux indian wigwams, and, as we had no firewater and no food to spare we kept close to the opposite shore. we were, however, observed. an indian appeared on the shore near the wigwams and beckoned to us to cross over. we made no reply but kept steadily on our course, observing, meanwhile, that the indian, with his gun, was skulking along through the brush, apparently bent on overtaking and waylaying us. we kept a respectful distance, and fortunately were able to increase it, but not till we were beyond rifle shot did we dare to pause for rest. that night we camped without striking a light, and next day arrived at point douglas. i went no further. the hardship and exposure of this trip brought on a severe illness. mr. david hone, at whose house i remained for two weeks, under the care of dr. carli, of stillwater, took the mail to fort snelling. soon as able i returned to stillwater. in may of this year i had made a claim of government unsurveyed land, covering springs sufficient for a water power. while i was sick at point douglas, joseph brewster, martin mower and david b. loomis formed a company to build a mill and carry on a logging business. they had agreed upon me as a fourth partner and to build on my claim; mower and loomis to attend to getting logs, brewster and folsom to build the mill. we moved to our claim oct. , , and went to work in earnest. we agreed upon the name of arcola for the new settlement. the mill was not finished until april , , at which time brewster and folsom sold out their interest and returned to stillwater. stillwater in . living in stillwater, jan. , , were the following married men: cornelius lyman, socrates nelson, walter r. vail, robert kennedy, anson northrup, albert harris, john e. mower, william e. cove, john smith, and w. h. c. folsom. among the unmarried men were: john mckusick, c. carli, jacob fisher, elam greely, edward blake, elias mckean, calvin f. leach, martin mower, david b. loomis, albion masterman, john morgan, phineas lawrence, joseph brewster, john carlton, thomas ramsdell, william rutherford, william willim, charles macey, and lemuel bolles. here follows a list of the pioneers of the st. croix valley, in , not mentioned elsewhere: nelson goodenough, who became a river pilot and settled at montrose, iowa; james patten, hugh mcfadden, edwin phillips, a millwright, an ingenious, eccentric man, who left the valley in ; joseph brewster, who left in , and settled in earlville, illinois; sylvester stateler, blacksmith, who removed to crow wing county, minnesota, and o. h. blair, who followed lumbering, a man of talent, but eccentric. he died in . the first school was taught in , by mrs. ariel eldridge, formerly sarah louisa judd. the second school was taught in , by mrs. greenleaf; the third in , by wm. mckusick. a school house was built in . rev. w. t. boutwell, a presbyterian minister, preached occasionally in the reception room of northrup's hotel. rev. eleazer greenleaf, an episcopalian, came the next summer and established regular services. prior to the organization of stillwater, rev. j. hurlbut, a methodist minister, had preached in dakotah, st. croix falls and marine, but organized no societies. the winter of - was very open. all teaming business was done on wheels, except for a few days in december, in which there was snow enough for sledding. a new feature in the trade of the valley this year was the rafting and running of logs to st. louis. in december, , dr. borup, of la pointe, and others went by ice and overland with teams to prairie du chien, i accompanying them. the first day we came to point douglas, at the confluence of the st. croix and the mississippi. between stillwater and point douglas, on the route we followed, some distance west of the lake, we found but one settler, joseph haskell. at point douglas there were david hone, a hotel keeper; hertzell & burris, merchants, and wm. b. dibble, farmer. we reached red wing the second day. at this place lived the famous jack frazier, a sioux half-breed and indian trader, one presbyterian missionary, rev. ---- denton, and a man named bush. james wells, more familiarly known as "bully wells," lived with an indian squaw on the west shore of lake pepin, where stands the town of frontenac. on the third day we went as far as wabasha, on the west side, three miles below lake pepin, where we found several french families. we stopped at cratt's hotel. on the fourth day we reached holmes' landing, now fountain city. there were then but two houses, both unoccupied. about noon we passed wabasha prairie, now the site of winona. it was then covered with indian tepees. at trempealeau, in the evening of the fifth day, we found two french families. on the next day we reached la crosse and found there two american families. two days more brought us to prairie du chien. on the way we passed a few french families, and these, with those previously named, constituted the entire white population between stillwater and prairie du chien. we started on our return with four two horse teams. we took the river road, passing over the ice. in our company was one tibbetts, from fort crawford, and jonathan e. mckusick, emigrating from maine to st. croix valley. they were a social, jovial pair. at capilaux bluff, dibble's team was ahead, and my team second. at this place all halted to allow the thirsty an opportunity of liquoring up, which was done at the rear team. dibble, in going back, left his team unfastened, and while he was "smiling" with his jovial companions the team ran away. the horses soon broke loose from the sled. one horse made for the shore, the other plunged into an air hole in the ice. the entire company rushed to the rescue, and with ropes and poles managed, at last, to float the horse upon the ice in an unconscious condition. all the whisky left by the "smiling" throng was poured down the horse's throat, but in vain. the animal was dead. no other event of interest occurred except some difficulties experienced in the transportation of the first cat ever brought to stillwater. "tom" was caged in a narrow box, and the confinement so chafed his proud spirit that he sickened and at one time was reported dead. at the inquest held over his remains by capt. mckusick, signs of life were discovered, and by liberal blood-letting the cat was restored to consciousness and lived several years afterward, a terror to the rats in stillwater. stillwater in . for about a year the writer had been officiating as justice of the peace with but little official business, but now and then a marriage to celebrate. on one occasion i walked to marine to marry w. c. penny to jane mccauslin. the marriage was celebrated at burkelo's boarding house. the wedding supper consisted of cold water and cold pork and beans. the following morning i did not wait for breakfast but returned to stillwater as i had come, on foot. another day i rode to bissell's mounds and united in marriage john kenny and a mulatto woman. friend kennedy threatened to disown me for thus aiding miscegenation. "such things are intolerable," he said, but from aught i have ever known to the contrary the couple were well assorted. territorial election. on the sixth day of april an election was held for the ratification or rejection of the constitution adopted by the late territorial convention for the anticipated state government; also a resolution relative to negro suffrage, and an election was ordered for sheriff. the vote resulted as follows: for the constitution, ; against, . for equal suffrage to colored persons, ; against, . for sheriff, walter r. vail, ; w. h. c. folsom, . there were five precincts that held elections--stillwater, st. paul, gray cloud, marine, and st. croix falls. i immediately gave bonds and qualified as sheriff, and the same day took charge of two criminals, chippewa indians, who had been committed by me for murder, while acting as justice. i had previously deputized ham gates to take care of them. while in stillwater they were confined in the basement of the post office building. their names were nodin and ne-she-ke-o-ge-ma. the latter was the son-in-law of nodin. they were very obedient and tractable, and i treated them kindly, for which nodin repeatedly told me he would show me a copper mine on kanabec river. nodin died not long after his trial, and before he could redeem his promise. the copper mine is yet undiscovered. fort snelling was, at that time, the receptacle for criminals in this region, and to the fort i carried these prisoners with a team,--ham gates being driver,--unshackled, unbound, my only weapon a pistol without a lock. in may i summoned jurors and visited kanabec river to procure witnesses in the case against nodin and ne-she-ke-o-ge-ma for the murder of henry rust. the first night i stopped with b. f. otis, on the st. croix, where taylors falls is now situated. on the second day i crossed the river and proceeded up the east side to wolf creek, thence crossing to the west side, up as far as sunrise river. there was no inhabitant, samuels having vacated his shanty. i crossed the river with great difficulty. the water was high, the current was strong and swift, and i could not swim. i found a fallen tree, partly under water, cut a pole, waded out as far as i could into the current, and then by the aid of the pole floated down some distance, until by pawing and splashing i was able to reach the other shore. that night i stopped with an old indian trader, mr. connor, who, with his indian wife, welcomed me to his bark shanty, divided into rooms by handsome mats, and made me quite comfortable. he had plenty of good food, and entertained me besides by a fund of anecdotes, incidents in indian history, and adventures of traders, trappers and missionaries in the lake superior and st. croix region. he was a very intelligent and genial man. next day i went to russell's farm, paddled a canoe to ground house river, and traveled thence on foot to ann river, where i found the parties of whom i was in quest, greely, colby, otis and others, a jolly log driving crew, with whom i spent a very pleasant evening. on the return journey, about two miles above the mouth of ground house river, i saw the ruins of the trading house in which henry rust was killed. rust, at the time of his murder, was selling whisky for jack drake. rev. w. t. boutwell gives the following account of the murder: "in the winter of ' and ' i visited the camps of kent & true and greely & blake. on one occasion i met rust, and asked him to come and hear me preach. he did not attend. on this day i preached at three camps. on the following night, at greely's camp, came a midnight visitor with word that rust had been shot. seventy-five men armed themselves with all kinds of weapons, proceeded to the scene of the tragedy, removed the body of rust and all valuables from the house, knocked out the heads of two whisky barrels and fired the house, the whisky greatly aiding the combustion. i removed the body to pokegama and buried it there. forty men attended the funeral. they held a meeting and resolved to clear the country of whisky. they commenced by destroying two barrels of it for jarvis. he begged hard for his whisky, saying he was a poor man, and in debt to frank steele at fort snelling. the response was, 'out with your whisky,' and it was destroyed before his eyes. the whisky of two other trading stations followed. for a brief period there was peace, but the whisky soon put in an appearance again." the first term of district court held in minnesota, then wisconsin, was convened in stillwater, the county seat of st. croix county, june st. it was held in the upper story of john mckusick's store, southwest corner of maine and myrtle streets, hon. charles dunn presiding. the session lasted one week. the bounds of st. croix county then included crawford county, wisconsin, on the south, brown county, wisconsin, and the lake superior country on the east, the region as far as the british possessions on the north, and to the mississippi river on the west. the jurors were found within a circuit of a hundred miles. the grand jury was composed of the following gentlemen: jonathan mckusick, j. w. furber, j. l. taylor, w. r. brown, chas. cavalier, j. a. ford, hazen mooers, c. lyman, c. a. tuttle, hilton doe, elam greely, martin mower, jr., edward blake, w. b. dibble, harmon crandall, jerry ross, james saunders, joseph brown, j. r. irving, j. w. simpson, john holton, pascal aldrich, and albert harris. joseph r. brown acted as clerk of court, jonathan e. mckusick as foreman of the grand jury, and morton s. wilkinson as prosecuting attorney. the attorneys present were: m. s. wilkinson, of stillwater; a. brunson, of prairie du chien; ben c eastman, of platteville, crawford and frank dunn, of mineral point. there were but few civil cases. nodin and ne-she-ke-o-ge-ma were indicted for murder, tried and acquitted on the ground that the killing was the result of a drunken brawl. this season, in addition to attending to my duties as sheriff, i went to st. louis with a raft of logs. the steamer war eagle, capt. smith harris, towed through the two lakes, st. croix and pepin, a fleet containing ten acres of logs. during the winter of - , i was engaged in logging. it was difficult to get supplies to the pineries before the swamps were frozen over. this season my goods were taken by batteaus from stillwater to clam lake. amusements.--society ball in stillwater. a writer in the stillwater _lumberman_, april , , gives a sketchy account of an old time ball, from which we select a few items: anson northrup kept what we called a first class hotel. if a man had blankets he could spread them upon the floor and sleep till the bell rang. if he had none he spread himself on the floor and paid for his lodging by tending stove and keeping the dogs from fighting. it was one of the aristocratic rules of the house that a man who slept in blankets was not to be disturbed by dogs. at one time our popular landlord got up a ball. he sent round a copper colored card,--a half-breed indian boy,--to tell all the folks to come. everybody was invited. at the appointed hour they began to assemble. soon all in town arrived except one smith. frequent inquiries were made for smith, and at last a deputation was sent to inquire the cause of his absence; when it transpired that he had broken his leg. he said he was helping the landlord roll a barrel of whisky from the landing when the barrel slipped, and, rolling back on his leg, broke it. northrup said that he had bet him one gallon of whisky that he could not lift the barrel to his lips and drink from the bung. in attempting to do this the barrel had slipped from his grasp with the result before mentioned. the wife regretted the accident very much, and said that if it had not been for that barrel of whisky, or some other whisky, they might have both attended the dance. she could have put out the fire, locked up the house, tied up the dog and taken her nine days' old baby with her. "there would be younger babies at the dance," she said. everything was ready. the ball opened with three "french fours," or two over. they danced a french two, the music consisting of one old violin with three strings, played by a half-breed from st. croix falls. he played but one tune and called it, "off she goes to miramachee." this carried a "french four" well enough, but when we danced a cotillion or hornpipe there was a great deal of rolling around instead of dancing. we often called for a new tune. "oh, yes, gentlemen, you shall have him," but when we got him it was the same old "off she goes." he worked hard to please the company and the sweat rolled down his manly cheeks like the droppings from the eaves of a saw mill; but all this would not do; it was the same old "off she goes." there were twenty-four couples at the ball. the ladies brought with them their babies, fourteen in number, and ranging from six weeks to six months old. the night passed merrily, uproariously, but without tragic incident. the fiddler became at last so tipsy that he could no longer play "off she goes to miramachee," and staggered off to that locality himself. the only thing direful occurred at the breaking up, about five o'clock in the morning. the fourteen babies had been laid to sleep on a bed, but some malevolent genius during the dance mixed them up and changed their wraps, so that the mothers, in the hurry of their departure, gathered and took home with them each one some other mother's darling, and this deponent saith not that the snarl has ever been untangled and the babies restored to their rightful mothers. with the year a new era dawned upon stillwater and the valley of the st. croix. great changes had taken place in the little town. there were many new citizens, new buildings had been erected and the streets were much improved. slabs had been placed over the quagmires on main street. a stage route had been established to st. paul, on which stages ran regularly. this was the first stage route in minnesota. the correction lines of the government survey had been run in - , chiefly in the latter year. township, range and section lines were run in , and in the early part of . prior to this claims had been made and were held subject to the limitations of the first legal survey. the creation of the new state of wisconsin and the prospective organization of minnesota territory, the development of the lumbering business and the formal opening of the government lands to entry, gave an impetus to immigration. stillwater profited largely by this immigration, it being an objective point. population increased. the village was regularly surveyed and platted in the fall of , harvey wilson, surveyor. stillwater, although it never aspired to be the future capital of the territory, became a headquarters for political characters and a place for public meetings for the discussions of territorial and other public questions. it was convenient of access, and contained up to that time a greater population than was to be found in st. paul, and it seemed likely to become the commercial metropolis of the territory. footnotes: [a] for the facts in this history i am indebted to john mckusick, jacob fisher, elias mckean, and elam greely. chapter iii. biographies. joseph renshaw brown, one of the best known of the pioneers, came to dakotah, schulenberg's addition, in . for items in his history i am personally indebted to him. he was born in , and, when old enough, apprenticed to a printer. on account of ill treatment he ran away and enlisted in the united states army at the age of fourteen years, serving as a drummer boy. he came with the army to the northwest territory in . after enlistment he made his first home at gray cloud on the mississippi, where he married a half-breed woman. wisconsin history says she was the daughter of robert dickson, indian trader and friend of the english in . he learned and spoke the chippewa and sioux languages fluently. in he founded the town of dakotah, at the head of lake st. croix, and erected some log buildings. through his influence, in part, st. croix county was organized, and the county seat located in dakotah. he built here a two story log court house, which, the county failing to pay for, was left upon his hands. he kept a trading station, was clerk of the county court and county commissioner. he filled several offices of trust and was by far the most important and universally serviceable man in the new county of st. croix. in he left dakotah, and returning to gray cloud, continued his indian trade at that point and further west by means of branch houses. he was a member of the territorial wisconsin legislature two sessions at madison. he returned to stillwater in , left again in , and in removed to st. paul, where, in , he purchased of mr. goodhue the _pioneer_, then the leading democratic paper of the territory. mr. brown was chief clerk in the minnesota territorial legislature during the sessions of , and . in and he was a member of the territorial council. in he was a member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention. during his residence in st. paul he was interested in building up the town of henderson, to which place he ran a stage line from st. paul. about this time, also, he busied himself with the invention of a steam wagon, calculated to traverse the western plains and drag after it trains of cars. financial and other difficulties prevented the completion of his design, which, however, he never entirely abandoned during the remainder of his life. in fact he went east in expressly to get his invention perfected, but from this journey he never returned. he died somewhat suddenly in new york in that year. mr. brown was a man of iron will and muscular frame. he owed but little to schools, but was a close observer of men and of the times in which he lived. he was a genial companion and true friend, and a man of honorable principles. his was a rugged but generous nature. he was public spirited, far seeing and far reaching in his plans. he believed in the great northwest. he predicted its future greatness as a wheat growing and agricultural country, and, as far back as , predicted that a great city would rise at the head of lake st. croix or at the falls of st. anthony. yet so little schooled was he in the wisdom of the speculator that he sold the property in st. paul now known as kittson's addition, and worth several millions of dollars, for one hundred and fifty dollars, and a lot on third street, now valued at $ , , for a box of cigars. paul carli.--mr. carli was of german and italian descent. he was born in italy, july , . his father was a merchant. he was married in chicago, in , to a sister of joseph r. brown, and moved in to the outlet of bolles creek, on the west side of lake st. croix, to a place near the site of afton. in he was accidentally drowned in the lake, within sight of his dwelling. his children, joseph r. and maria, are residents of stillwater. christopher carli, brother of paul, was born at frankfort-on-the-main, germany, dec. , . the youth of christopher was devoted to study. he was educated at heidelberg university, and studied medicine. he came to america in february, . the march following he located in buffalo, where he practiced medicine three years, and returned to europe where he remained two years. returning to america, he practiced a year in chicago, a year in new orleans and another year in chicago. he came to dakotah, st. croix valley, may , . march , , he was married to the widow of paul carli, joseph r. brown officiating as magistrate. he was the first practicing physician north of prairie du chien. his home was at dakotah until the organization of stillwater. he opened his first office on the west side of lower main street, block . his practice extended from lake pepin to lake superior and from menomonie mills, wisconsin, to the mississippi river. his mode of travel was by birch canoe, on horseback, on skates and on foot. he was a member of the first city council in stillwater and has been city and county physician. he opened the first bank in stillwater when fractional currency was in demand. his floating scrip was all redeemed. two children, christopher and socrates n., are married and residents of stillwater. dr. carli died nov. , . lydia ann carli.--mrs. carli has passed through many stirring scenes, and is one of the first female settlers in the st. croix valley. a fluent and interesting talker, her recitals of early incidents and adventures are heart enlivening. lydia ann brown was born in lancaster, penn., march , . in she came with friends to chicago, where in she was married to paul carli. she came to dakotah in , and lived there until . the village was surrounded by indians and there was no white woman nearer than marine, twelve miles distant. in the carlis removed to the mouth of bolles creek, near afton, on lake st. croix, where they built themselves a two story house commanding a picturesque view of the lake and the adjacent prairies and hills. it was a lone tenement, midway between prescott and stillwater. mrs. carli having lost her husband as before narrated, in was married to his brother, dr. christopher carli. [illustration: james s. anderson] phineas lawrence.--but little is known of the early life of mr. lawrence. he had been a river pilot. he was the first sheriff elected in the st. croix valley, or northwest of prairie du chien. he was elected and qualified in . on serving the first and only summons he was ever called upon to serve, he approached the party summoned, holding up to view the documents, and exclaimed: "i, phineas lawrence, high sheriff of st. croix county, in the name of the united states and of the immaculate god, command you to surrender." he was a robust, fleshy, cheerful man, and felt in all their force the responsibilities of the position in which he was placed. his name has been given to a creek in chisago county, where he once logged. he died in stillwater in . jacob fisher.--jacob fisher, a millwright, came to st. croix falls in , and being a skilled mechanic found employment at once on the old mill at the falls. he made the first land claim and framed the first building in stillwater. the building framed was the mill of which mention has been made. this establishes his claim to priority as the first white man who made a movement toward the settlement of stillwater. others were before him in the settlement of dakotah or schulenberg's addition. mr. fisher is a plain, frank, outspoken man, who has no trouble in making his hearers understand exactly what he means. he was born in canada in , and still resides in stillwater. he has a wife and one son in california. james s. anderson was born at marshalltown, west virginia, on the fourth of february, . when he was twelve years old his parents removed with him to burlington, iowa, where he lived for eight years. he came to stillwater in , where he has since resided. in he was married to miss harriet t. mcdonald, at st. louis, by whom he has had four children, three of whom are now living--robert m. anderson, prominently known in lumber circles, and misses sibella s. and ella p. anderson. upon mr. anderson's arrival at stillwater, he engaged in the employ of elias mckean, then a prominent lumberman, now a resident of washington county. in mr. anderson formed a partnership with william mckusick, john a. nelson and alexander johnson, under the firm name of mckusick, anderson & co., which firm built and operated the large saw mill opposite stillwater. four years ago mr. mckusick retired from the firm, since which time the firm has been j. s. anderson & co. in mr. anderson became the senior member of a heavy logging firm known as anderson & o'brien, of which the other members were the well known lumbermen j. s. and john o'brien. in connection with his other business interests mr. anderson was a heavy owner of pine lands, and a stockholder and director in the lumberman's national bank. there were two other well known lumber firms of ancient date with which he was connected, and these were mccomb, simpson & co., organized in , and also delano, mckusick & co., organized in . from to he was also a heavy logger alone. mr. anderson died may , . his death resulted from a mill accident, his rubber coat having caught in the belting of a shaft revolving at a rapid rate. his body was frightfully mangled, but he survived two days, exhibiting, under the circumstances, the most remarkable composure, dictating his will and arranging his business matters as calmly as he might have done on an ordinary occasion. emanuel dixon farmer was born in tennessee in , and came to stillwater in , where he has resided ever since, engaged in the lumbering and saloon business. he was married to parmelia a. collier, in stillwater, . col. john greely.--col. greely was sixty years of age when he came to the west, and although a strong, active and enterprising man in the earlier part of his life, owing to advancing years and ill health was rather a spectator than an active participant in the stirring scenes of his new home. he was born at southampton, massachusetts, april, . he was married to hannah greely, a second cousin, at hopkinton, new hampshire, oct. , . he followed the lumbering business on the merrimac river in early life. he furnished the timber used in erecting the first factory in lowell, massachusetts, cut on the mountains of north new hampshire. in after life he moved to the west end of sebec lake, maine, where he founded the town at first named greely, but afterward willimantic, now the site of extensive manufactories where the famous willimantic thread is made. col. greely came to stillwater in . born during the revolutionary struggle, he lived to witness the marvelous growth and prosperity of his country and died during the first year of the war of the rebellion. aged as he was, having entered upon his eighty-fifth year, he was intensely interested in the issue of that struggle, and ardently desired to live long enough to witness the triumph of his country's cause. it was not to be. he sank peacefully to rest, oct. , , dying as he had lived, an honest man, his memory revered by all who knew him, and cherished by three generations of descendants. his children were three sons and five daughters--sarah, mrs. blake, mrs. greenleaf, and phebe and servia, wives of john mckusick. miss sarah alone survives. mrs. hannah greely.--mrs. greely, the wife of col. john greely, was born in hopkinton, new hampshire, october, , came to stillwater in and died may, , at the advanced age of ninety years. for sixty years she and her husband walked side by side. she survived him seventeen years, and, after a life well spent, resignedly folded her hands and sank to her last repose. elam greely.--elam, son of col. john greely, was born in salisbury, new hampshire, aug. , , and, with his parents, moved to maine, where they made their home on sebec lake. in mr. greely came to st. croix falls, where he was employed by the st. croix falls company the greater part of the time until , when he became a settler at the head of lake st. croix. he was one of the original owners of the first mill at stillwater. in he sold his interest to john mckusick. the same year he was appointed postmaster at stillwater. the office was located at the southwest corner of main and chestnut streets. mr. greely filled many offices of honor and trust meritoriously. he was a member of the third and fourth minnesota territorial councils. in , in company with edward blake, he did an extensive pine log business, running the logs to st. louis, in which business he continued until the death of mr. blake in . mr. greely early identified himself with the interests of stillwater, of which he was one of the founders, and which owes much of its prosperity to his efforts. he was married in kenosha, wisconsin, in , to hannah p. hinman, who, with three children, a son and two daughters, survives him. his oldest son died oct. , . mr. greely had many severe reverses in business, but by indomitable energy recovered from them, and was able not only to care for his aged parents, to bring them from maine and keep them with him until separated by death, but to leave his family well provided for. he died suddenly away from home, sept. , . his body was brought to stillwater for burial. himan greely.--himan, son of col. john greely, was born in franklin, new hampshire, october, . he came to stillwater in , where he followed the business of lumbering. in he was married to lucia darling. after a brief residence in stillwater, he removed to beauford, blue earth county, where he remained until his death in . his wife survived him but a few months. the bodies of both were removed and buried in fairview cemetery, stillwater. mr. greely applied himself closely to business, and was an honest, upright and intelligent man. his education was derived chiefly from reading and observation. he left two sons. aquilla greely.--aquilla, the youngest son of col. greely, was born in greely, maine, june, . during his youth he spent several years with friends in canada, where he learned the art of surveying. he came to minnesota in , and followed surveying and lumbering. he died in stillwater, april , . elias mckean.--a thorough business man, an eccentric man, notably so, an apt man, ready in reply, somewhat harsh, if irritated, but kind in heart and forgiving in spirit, is elias mckean. he was born in bradford county, pennsylvania, june , , and received a practical education. his father was a man of some note, and for twenty-eight years a circuit judge in pennsylvania. elias mckean came to st. croix falls in , and for a year was in the employ of the falls company, but afterward engaged successfully in business for himself. he was one of the original proprietors of the stillwater mill, and one of the founders of stillwater. in he settled on a farm on the west side of lake st. croix. in he was married to the widow of calvin f. leach, and a family of six sons has grown up around them. calvin f. leach.--we are not able to give date or place of birth. mr. leach came to st. croix falls in and soon after came to the head of lake st. croix, and became one of the original owners of the mill, and a founder of the city of stillwater. in he was married to miss ---- smith, of st. anthony. he died in st. louis in . he was modest and retiring in his demeanor, correct in his deportment and respected by all his acquaintances. socrates nelson.--mr. nelson was born in conway, massachusetts, jan. , , received an academic education, was married to mrs. bertha d. bartlett in , at hennepin, ill., and the same year came to stillwater, and engaged in selling goods. previous to his removal to stillwater he engaged in merchandising in illinois, in , and in st. louis from to , where he established a trading post on the mississippi nearly opposite reed's landing, at a place since known as nelson's landing. mr. nelson was the first merchant in stillwater. his store stood on main street. he built a substantial dwelling and lived in it until his death, may , . he filled many public positions, was territorial auditor from to , and was a senator in the second state legislature. as a merchant he was very successful, being fitted by nature for commercial pursuits. in , he, with others, built a saw mill in south stillwater and engaged in lumbering. he was of a free and generous disposition in all his relations of life. he conveyed, as a donation to washington county, a half interest in the block of land on which the court house stands. his liberality and public spirit did much for the prosperity of stillwater. his wife and one daughter, mrs. fayette marsh, survived him, but mrs. marsh died in . she was a woman of great sweetness of disposition, and beloved by all who knew her. his widow died in . mrs. socrates nelson.--bertha d. was born at conway, franklin county, massachusetts, sept. , . she was married to geo. a. bartlett, of conway, in , and removed with him to knoxville, illinois, where he died. she returned to her parents in massachusetts, and removed with them to hennepin, illinois. in the fall of she was married to socrates nelson, and came with him to stillwater. she died oct. , . she was the last of her family, husband and daughter having preceded her to the world of spirits. the large attendance of old settlers from washington county and elsewhere at her funeral, and the beautiful floral tributes contributed by her friends, attested but partially the respect and veneration in which she was held. edward blake.--of mr. blake's early history we have no data. he came to the st. croix valley in company with elam greely in , engaged in lumbering, and died in . walter r. vail.--mr. vail, the second merchant in stillwater, came west in . he built a store, with dwelling attached, just south of socrates nelson's store, which buildings are still standing and occupied ( ). mr. vail was not successful in business and moved away in . [illustration: martin mower. a practical and successful lumberman of stillwater.] john e. mower.--mr. mower was born in bangor, maine, sept. , . he was married to gratia remick, in keokuk, iowa, in , and removed to st. croix falls, where he entered the employ of the falls lumbering company. two years later he removed to stillwater, where he built the second frame dwelling, still standing. mr. mower was a millwright and carpenter, but was engaged in lumbering most of his time. he purchased an interest in the mill property at arcola, in , which place he made his home until his death, which occurred june , . he left a widow and three daughters, helen, wife of the late louis torinus; emily, wife of henry van voorhees; and mary, wife of ---- richardson. one son died after arriving at manhood. mr. mower was a pleasant, reliable man, a kind husband and loving father. he was honored by his fellow citizens with an election to the fifth and sixth territorial councils, and to the seventeenth state legislature (house). the territorial legislature affixed his name to a county. martin mower.--martin, brother of john e. mower, came to st. croix falls in , and worked in the employ of the falls company. afterward he engaged in lumbering and became one of the original proprietors of the arcola mill. he was also engaged in manufacturing and merchandising in stillwater. he built a fine block of buildings on chestnut street, recently burned down and rebuilt on a larger scale. he has been one of the managing owners of the st. croix boom company from its origin. his business interests have been divided between stillwater and arcola, but he has made the latter place his home since . as a business man he is capable and shrewd, giving close attention to his business; in his manner somewhat eccentric. he has done in much to improve the farming and other interests of the country. william willim.--a firm, consistent, worthy citizen and true friend of his adopted country is william willim. he was born in the parish of woolhope, herefordshire, england, june , ; came to america in , and to stillwater in . he was married in to clara g. haskell, and, after her death in , to joanna w. hinman. mr. willim is a stonemason, plasterer and contractor. he was a member of the sixth minnesota territorial legislature, and has filled many responsible positions in stillwater. mr. willim's was the first naturalization that occurred in the limits of minnesota. the oath of allegiance, a somewhat unique and original document of its kind, bears date of june , , stillwater, st. croix county, wisconsin territory, and is signed by joseph r. brown. albert harris.--mr. harris was a native of maine. he was born in and married to miss greenleaf in , who died in . he came to stillwater in , where he died in , leaving one daughter, wife of the late levi thompson, attorney at law in stillwater, and one son in california. mr. harris was a house carpenter and much respected by his neighbors. cornelius lyman.--mr. lyman is of the seventh generation of the lyman family that came over from england in . he was born in brookfield, vermont, aug. , . he was married in brookfield to betsey cushman and came to illinois at an early date, whence he removed to marine mills, in , where he kept a boarding house until , when he removed to stillwater, where he kept a boarding house until . he then removed to his farm three miles above stillwater, where, by industry and economy, aided by his faithful wife, he was able to build a comfortable home, in which they continued to live until at a good old age they were removed by death, which claimed them in the same year, the husband dying january, , and the wife in april. they were members of the presbyterian church from early life, and respected as citizens, honored as christians. mrs. lyman was one of the excellent of the earth. mr. lyman had an inexhaustible fund of humor, and was rather fond of practical joking. many of his jokes were of the rarest description. they left two sons, cornelius storrs and david pride. david b. loomis.--few men have been more active in business and public life than david b. loomis. he was born in wilmington, connecticut, april , . in he came with his parents to alton, illinois, where, at the age of fifteen, he engaged as clerk in a store and served in that capacity five years. mr. loomis was in the building in alton in which lovejoy was shot and killed for the expression of sentiments which the nation has since been compelled to adopt. in he came to the st. croix valley and engaged in lumbering. in he was one of the four original owners of the arcola mill, but in sold his interest to mr. mower, and for four succeeding years was in charge of the st. croix boom. in he was surveyor general of logs and lumber. in he was a member of the minnesota territorial council, and was re-elected in , serving in all four years, during one of which he was president of the council. in he was one of a company that built a mill in south stillwater. he sold out in . in he entered the army as lieutenant, company f, second minnesota volunteers, and was promoted to a captaincy. he served three and a half years. stillwater has been his home since the war. in he represented washington county in the legislature. william e. cove.--the year of mr. cove's birth is not known. he came to stillwater in . his marriage to nancy edwards, elsewhere noted, was the second marriage in the village. he was by trade a house carpenter. he removed to minneapolis in . john smith.--of the eight first families, that of john smith was one. of this particular "john smith" little is known, except that he was sober and industrious, and, in , moved to parts unknown. john morgan.--we have no account of the early days of mr. morgan, except that he was a native of pennsylvania. he was living in stillwater in , in the employ of churchill & nelson. in he was elected sheriff of st. croix county, wisconsin. in the same year he was married to hannah harnish. he settled on a farm and kept a "half way house" on the road from stillwater to st. paul, when the pioneer stages of willoughby & power were placed on this route. in he obtained a charter from the wisconsin legislature for a ferry across lake st. croix at stillwater. this ferry changed ownership repeatedly and was discontinued when the bridge was built. anson northrup.--this gentleman, whose name was borne by the first steamboat ever launched on the red river of the north, and who brought the first drove of cattle through from illinois to st. croix falls, deserves a conspicuous place in the annals of the northwest. he was born in conewango, cataraugus county, new york, jan. , . his education was limited, but he was a man of more than ordinary native ability and energy. he lived in ohio some years, and came west in . in he drove the first herd of cattle through a wilderness country from the wisconsin river to the st. croix. in he removed his family from ohio to st. croix falls. he came by way of st. louis, from that point embarking on the steamer indian queen for the falls. the steamer was three weeks making the trip. above prairie du chien crew and passengers were obliged to cut wood to run the boat. mr. northrup had married betsey edwards, daughter of widow edwards, one of the pioneers of stillwater. charles h., their eldest son, was the first white child born at st. croix falls. in the spring of he moved to stillwater, where he built and kept the first hotel in that place. from to he was part owner of the osceola saw mill along with mahony and kent. in he removed to st. paul, and built the american hotel on third street, east from seven corners. in he removed to st. anthony falls and built there the st. charles hotel. in he removed to minneapolis, and built the bushnell house, the first brick building in the city. subsequently he became a resident at long prairie, swan river and duluth. although mr. northrup's genius tended chiefly in the direction of hotel building, his abilites in other directions were beyond question. with equal facility he turned his hand to lumbering, steamboating and statesmanship. his great steamboat enterprise was the attempted transfer of the steamer north star by water from the mississippi to the red river of the north. the boat was one hundred feet long by twenty wide, and of light draught. starting from st. cloud in the spring of he performed the wonderful feat of ascending the mississippi as far as pokegama falls, hoping to ascend further, and during a high stage of water to float the boat over the height of land into some of the tributaries of the red river. the water was not sufficiently high. the winter following he took the boat to pieces, and removed it by land to red river, opposite the mouth of the cheyenne, where it was reconstructed and launched, taken to fort garry and afterward sold to mr. burbank. this boat, its name being changed to anson northrup, was the first steamboat on the waters of red river. mr. northrup's political career commenced and closed with the first minnesota legislature, - , he representing the counties of morrison, crow wing and mille lacs in the senate. during the rebellion he served as wagon master. he lived in texas three years, returned to st. paul, where he lived in - - , and now lives in bismarck, dakota. robert kennedy.--mr. kennedy, in , located at holmes' landing, now fountain city, on the banks of the mississippi, above winona. in he removed to dakotah, where he kept a hotel in the old tamarack court house, built by joseph r. brown. in he kept a hotel in the northrup house, stillwater; in he kept the american hotel, shakopee. subsequently he returned to st. paul and kept a boarding house, and for three years the hotel known as "moffett's castle." afterward he kept the snelling house, and last the bernard house. from to he was collector of customs for the port of st. paul, and during that time the fees amounted to the enormous sum of forty six dollars and forty-two cents. mr. kennedy spent about thirty years as a landlord, in which capacity he was very popular. harvey wilson.--mr. wilson was born in corinth, saratoga county, new york, december, . he resided in his native county twenty-five years, then removed to st. louis, where, for three years, he engaged in surveying. he came to st. croix falls in and to stillwater in . he acted as j. r. brown's deputy clerk of court, june term, . he was appointed clerk of the first minnesota territorial term of court, aug. , , in which office he continued until his death, nov. , . mr. wilson was married in to widow mary stanchfield. andrew jackson short.--mr. short was born in st. clair county, illinois, in . he came thence to the st. croix valley and located at marine in , and commenced running rafts with w. b. dibble. in and he gathered logs as agent in lake st. croix, rafted and run them below, but lost heavily and was in fact financially wrecked. he afterward engaged in the logging and hardware business in stillwater. in he built the famous dudley mills at point douglas, at a cost of $ , . mr. short made stillwater his home until , when he removed to hastings. much credit is due him for what he has accomplished. when he came to the st. croix valley he could neither read nor write, but by energy, industry and native force of character, notwithstanding a few reverses, he has done far more than many other men in his position could have done. as a man he is genial and social. james d. mccomb.--mr. mccomb was born in washington county, pennsylvania, feb. , , came to stillwater june , , and engaged in mercantile business with john h. brewster three years, when he entered the firm of anderson, mccomb & co., robert simpson being the third member. they did an extensive business for years. they built the large stone store on the corner of main and myrtle streets. mr. mccomb in became clerk in the surveyor general's office, which position he held ten years. he was surveyor general of logs and lumber four years, his accurate knowledge of the various marks used admirably fitting him for the position. he served as deputy sheriff in under james fisher, of prairie du chien, and in under w. h. c. folsom, of stillwater. mr. mccomb has passed all the degrees in odd fellowship. he was married to eliza t. mckusick in stillwater, march , . mrs. mccomb died in stillwater sept. , . william rutherford.--mr. rutherford was born in , in stanton county, new york, and came to stillwater in . he married christina j. holcombe, at jackson, mississippi, in . in he removed to his farm near stillwater, where he has since lived. he has been quite successful as a farmer. mr. rutherford died march , . his name will be remembered with honor. albion masterson.--mr. masterman has also prospered as a farmer. he was born in franklin county, maine, in ; received a common school education; was married to eliza middleton in ; came to stillwater in , and in removed thence to his farm, where he died, aug. , . mr. masterman's life has been an industrious and exemplary one. joseph n. masterman.--mr. masterman came to stillwater, september, . he engaged in lumbering and scaling continuously. he was born in franklin county, maine, in , and spent his youth at home, but his education was somewhat limited. at the age of sixteen years he moved to schoodic, lived there fourteen years, when he married alice m. prescott, and four years later came to stillwater. his two sons, wellington and joseph p., reside in stillwater. wellington is auditor of washington county. mahlon black.--mr. black is of scotch descent. his grandfather was a naval officer during the war of the revolution, and a soldier in the war of . mahlon black was born in hamilton county, ohio, oct. , . he spent his youth on his father's farm, and received a common school and academic education. when seventeen years of age he began the study of medicine in cincinnati medical college, but did not complete the course. in he came to menomonie mills, wisconsin, and engaged in lumbering until . in he was connected with government surveys, and the same year located in stillwater. he was a representative in the first, third, and last territorial legislature, also a member of the extra session in . he was mayor of stillwater in - . in he enlisted in a company of sharpshooters, which was assigned to the army of the potomac. he was promoted to be captain, and provost marshal in the second division of the second army corps, and one of gen. gibbon's staff officers. he was in fifty-four battles and skirmishes, in some of which over , men were engaged on each side. he was wounded four times, once severely, by a bayonet thrust received in a charge at the battle of petersburgh. he served until the close of the war, and received a special and honorable discharge from his commander, gen. smyth, on the face of which are recorded the names of the battles in which he participated. in he removed from stillwater to minneapolis, where he has held the positions of land examiner and auditor of hennepin county. he has the distinction of being the first odd fellow initiated in minnesota. sept. , , he was married to jane m. stough, of pennsylvania. morton s. wilkinson.--the record of mr. wilkinson, though brief, is brilliant. he was born in skaneateles, onondaga county, new york, june , ; received an academic education in his native town; read law; was admitted to the bar at syracuse, new york, in ; commenced practice in eaton rapids, michigan, and in came to stillwater. mr. wilkinson was the first practicing lawyer northwest of prairie du chien, was the prosecuting attorney at judge dunn's court in stillwater, june, , and was a member from washington county of the first territorial legislature in . he removed to st. paul in , to mankato in , and in was elected united states senator. in he was one of the commissioners to compile the state statutes. in he was elected representative to congress and at the close of the term was re-elected. from to , inclusive, he served as state senator from blue earth county. mr. wilkinson is an eloquent and forcible speaker, and a man of unusual ability, a sound and logical reasoner, and withal fluent. he has been twice married. his first wife was a daughter of rev. lemuel nobles, of michigan. mrs. wilkinson died in michigan. he married a second wife before coming west. they reside in wells, minnesota. william stanchfield.--mr. stanchfield was a native of maine, born in the year , was married to mary jackins, in bangor, maine, in , and came to stillwater in , where he engaged in keeping a hotel on main street, which was burned while he was in charge. mr. stanchfield died in , leaving a widow who subsequently married harvey wilson, and an infant daughter, who became, years after, the wife of george davis. thomas ramsdell.--mr. ramsdell was born at falmouth, england, dec. , . he married in england and came to this country with his wife in . he settled in stillwater in , and removed to his farm in , where he has been successful in raising apples and smaller fruits. his wife died in . his second wife was jane willey. mr. ramsdell has been a quiet, good citizen, reliable and trustworthy. charles macy.--an orphan at thirteen years of age, mr. macy's early life was full of changes, adventures and vicissitudes. he was born in canada east in . he lived a somewhat wandering life until , when he came to fort snelling, and shortly after to stillwater, where, in , he made a claim which became his permanent home. he was married in . jonathan e. mckusick.--there was no more genial, pleasant, off-hand man than jonathan e. mckusick. he was the life of public gatherings. his remarks, full of wit and sentiment, would keep his audience in a pleasant frame of mind. at old settlers' meetings his fund of anecdotes, historical incidents and reminiscences were in the highest degree interesting and entertaining. mr. mckusick was born in cornish, maine, in ; was married to minerva king in , and came up the mississippi on the ice, in december, , to stillwater, which he made his home until his death, which occurred aug. , . he took an active interest in the welfare of the city and held many offices of trust. he served his country during the war of the rebellion, and in was appointed quartermaster with the rank of captain, which position he held until mustered out at the close of the war. john mckusick.--prominent amongst the pioneers of the st. croix valley, and deserving of special mention for his enterprise and public spirit, is the subject of this sketch. he was born in cornish, maine, in ; received a common school education; came to illinois in , and to st. croix falls in , where he engaged in the lumbering business, getting logs to the falls mill, and sawing them. through industry and economy he saved enough to enable him to become part owner and builder of the first mill in stillwater. he has held many positions of trust. he served as state senator in - - and . he was active in aiding to secure the land grant to build railroads into stillwater, in the welfare of which city he has ever manifested the deepest interest. he has been one of the largest proprietors, and most liberal in improving and adorning the city, has encouraged a sound system of finances, and has steadily opposed the bonding system. mr. mckusick was married to phebe greely in , who soon afterward died. he married his second wife, servia greely, in november, . he has three children living, newton, chester and ella. mrs. mckusick died feb. , . [illustration: john mckusick] william mckusick, a younger brother of jonathan e. and john mckusick, came to stillwater in , and engaged in lumbering. he was a member of the fifth territorial house, and a senator in the second, sixteenth and seventeenth state legislatures. in , with the firm of mckusick, anderson & co., he built the large saw mill at houlton, opposite stillwater. in he made his home upon a farm at big stone lake. noah mckusick, another brother, came to stillwater in , followed lumbering some years, removed to oregon, and died there in . royal mckusick came to the valley in , and died a few years later, leaving a large and respectable family. ivory e. mckusick.--ivory e., brother of john and j. e. mckusick, was born in maine, july , . in he came to stillwater, with which city he has since been permanently identified. he spent two years working in the old mill, the first built at stillwater, and then engaged in lumbering until . in he was appointed prison guard, and served two years. in he was in the service of the government, and helped build fort wadsworth, dakota. he served as surveyor general several years, and later has engaged in the forwarding and commission business. he was married to sophia a. jewell, feb. , . he is a man of probity and merit. charles e. leonard.--the subject of this sketch was born feb. , , at worthington, massachusetts. his father died when he was four years old. in his early life he experienced some vicissitudes. he tried farming and hotel keeping, but owing to poor health was obliged to give up these employments. he started west in , remained awhile in hancock county, illinois, and in came to stillwater, where he engaged in mercantile pursuits. he removed to st. anthony in , to st. paul in , to point douglas in , to sioux city in , and to princeton, mille lacs county, in . mr. leonard has held several official positions. in he was appointed territorial treasurer, and in , serving four years; was a member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention. he did some military service during the indian outbreak in . he was married to catherine yendes, of rodman, new york, january, . daniel mclean.--mr. mclean was born in the north of ireland in and came to america in his youth with his brothers. he lived successively in philadelphia, indianapolis and st. louis, whence he embarked for st. croix falls in , in the employ of the falls manufacturing company. he came to stillwater in . through industry and economy he accumulated a handsome fortune, which, at his death, he left to his heirs in stillwater. he was an upright christian man. he died in stillwater in . robert simpson.--mr. simpson was born in sussex, england, in . he married mary ann shelley in and came the same year to the united states. after spending two years in new york and other places, he came to st. croix falls in , where he followed lumbering until , when he came to stillwater. he belonged to the firm of simpson, anderson & mccomb, lumbering and merchandising, and engaged in other branches of business. he was a member from stillwater of the first state legislature. he is a quiet, unobtrusive gentleman, greatly esteemed by those who know him. mrs. simpson and an only child died in stillwater in . william h. hooper.--this gentleman attained considerable notoriety in later life as an influential mormon and a delegate to congress from utah from to . he was a man of unquestioned ability and an eloquent speaker. his plea for "religious liberty," made against the cullom bill, is said to have been one of the most eloquent speeches ever delivered in congress. mr. hooper was born in warwick manor, maryland, dec. , . in he moved to galena and engaged in mercantile business. in the panic of mr. hooper and his partner failed to the amount of $ , , but, after years of struggling, the debt was entirely paid. in mr. hooper engaged in steamboating as clerk on the steamer otter, on the upper mississippi and its tributaries, and was well known at stillwater. his boat in landed the mill irons for mckusick & co.'s mill. in he built the steamer lynx and several other boats, the last being known as the alex. hamilton, of which he was part owner. this was burned at st. louis in , which left him again penniless. in he emigrated to salt lake and there in his business enterprises greatly prospered. although he espoused mormonism and became one of its leaders, he was opposed to polygamy. he died in salt lake city. james h. spencer.--james h. spencer came to stillwater in , a boy of sixteen. his educational privileges had been limited, but he was ambitious and studious, and by his own unaided exertions acquired a practical business education. he followed lumbering and exploring, and was employed as state timber agent for fifteen years. he was born in boone county, missouri, in , and was married to rose m. winters, in stillwater, in . john t. blackburn.--the brothers blackburn were born in cincinnati, ohio, john, the elder, in . he came to stillwater in , and has since been actively engaged in lumbering. his home has been at stillwater, marine, taylor's falls, and shell lake, where he now resides. joseph t. blackburn.--joseph, the younger brother, was born in , and in came to stillwater. he has followed lumbering and indian trading. he has made his home at stillwater, at taylor's falls, and, since , on totogatic river, in douglas county, wisconsin, ten miles from gordon. mr. blackburn enjoys wilderness life, is eccentric in manner, and attends strictly to his own business. horace k. mckinstry.--we have no data of mr. mckinstry's early life. he came to stillwater in . his family consisted of his wife, three daughters, and son, john, who afterward married the eldest daughter of anson northrup. mr. mckinstry was a justice of the peace in and , and was engaged in mercantile business the two succeeding years. he removed to maiden rock, wisconsin, a year or two after and died there march , . seth m. sawyer.--mr. sawyer was born in skowhegan, maine, in . he came to stillwater in , followed lumbering, and afterward engaged in building a saw mill in the firm name of sawyer & heaton. in he was married to eliza mckinstry. mr. sawyer left minnesota in for an extended sojourn in the southern states, and engaged in business there, but nothing is known positively of his present whereabouts. henry sawyer.--henry, the younger brother of seth, came from skowhegan to stillwater in , and engaged in mercantile pursuits for two years in partnership with horace mckinstry. in he built the first stone block in stillwater, on lot , block . in he built the sawyer house, a four story hotel. mr. sawyer married lucy noyes. he died in stillwater, dec. , , and his remains were buried in the kah-ba-kong cemetery, at taylor's falls. alvah d. heaton.--mr. heaton was the partner of seth sawyer in building the second saw mill in stillwater. he came to st. croix in and worked at the osceola mills some time. he was a partner in logging with o. h. blair and afterward with wm. kent. he was a brother-in-law to hon. cyrus aldrich, representative in congress from minnesota. in after years he removed to idaho. john mckinzie.--mr. mckinzie was born at inverness, scotland, in , and came to america in . he located in stillwater in , and followed lumbering until , when he removed to a farm in the lyman settlement. he married rose carlton in and removed to miles city, montana, in . george mckinzie, a younger brother of john, came to stillwater in , and engaged in lumbering and exploring. in he was adjudged insane and sent to the st. peter's hospital, from which he was soon released. he afterward visited california, where he was drowned in san francisco bay. he was unmarried. henry kattenberg.--mr. kattenberg was born in prussia in , and married to arnebia c. silova, at kemper, on the banks of the rhine, in . he came to america in june, , and to stillwater in . mr. kattenberg opened a shop and engaged in the tailoring business. by industry and close application to business, he prospered and secured a pleasant home. by liberality and kindness in extending credits, and an unfortunate venture in lumbering, he lost $ , , which effectually closed his business operations. with characteristic honesty, he turned over to his creditors his homestead and all he had to meet his liabilities. in he removed to taylor's falls and commenced keeping hotel at the falls house, on bench street. in october, , he purchased the dalles house of mrs. c. b. whiting. julius f. brunswick.--mr. brunswick was born in switzerland in ; came to this country in , remained a year in illinois, and came to stillwater in , where he engaged in lumbering, farming, merchandising, and dealing in pine lands. mr. brunswick applied himself closely to business and was successful. feb. , , he married margaret darms, of stillwater. he died at his home in stillwater in , leaving a widow and seven children. henry mclean.--mr. mclean was born in washington county, maine, in , and in came to stillwater, which has since been his home. he is engaged in lumbering. in he married caroline cover. hugh burns.--hugh burns came from ireland to america in , when he was but eight years of age, lived in the province of new brunswick until , when he came to stillwater, where he has since been engaged in lumbering and farming. in he removed to st. anthony, in to st. paul, and in to stillwater. sylvanus trask.--mr. trask was born in otsego county, new york, nov. , . he secured a liberal education, and taught school several years in the state of new york. he came to stillwater in , and in was married to euphenia turner, of st. paul. he represented the stillwater district in the first and second territorial legislatures, - . for many years he has been a surveyor and scaler of logs. ariel eldridge.--mr. eldridge was born in hartford, vermont, june , . he was reared during his minority by an uncle, at cambridge, new york. in he came to the wisconsin lead mines, at platteville, and in to stillwater, where he worked afterward at his trade of house carpenter until , when he opened a book and stationery store. he has held several city and county offices. in he was married to sarah l. judd. mrs. eldridge died in stillwater, oct. , , aged eighty-four years. mrs. eldridge taught the first school in stillwater. [illustration: e. w. durant. a prominent minnesotian of renowned reputation.] edward white durant.--mr. durant is of huguenot descent. during the eighteenth century his ancestors lived in massachusetts and were active participants in the agitation against english oppression. edward durant, jr., an ancestor five generations from the present, was a delegate to the provincial congress of and , and chairman of the committee on commercial correspondence. he died in . others of the family filled prominent places, and were noted for their whole-souled patriotism. mr. durant was born at roxbury, massachusetts, april , . he received a common school education, and a year in the academy. he came to cincinnati in , and in we find him with his parents in albany, illinois. in he left his parents and came to stillwater, where he worked three seasons on the river, running logs. he then became a pilot on the st. croix and mississippi rivers and continued in this business about sixteen years. he acted as salesman for hersey, staples & co. some years. he has been since then engaged in lumbering and a portion of the time as a member of the firm of durant, wheeler & co. the annual sales of this firm amount to over half a million dollars. in he was a candidate on the democratic ticket for lieutenant governor and in was president of the state democratic convention. he represented his district in the fifteenth, seventeenth and twenty-fourth state legislatures. he was several years grand master of the masons of minnesota. he has served as mayor of stillwater, and often as a member of the council. mr. durant, as his record shows him, is one of the most industrious men of the time, and possessed of good executive and business abilities. mr. durant was married dec. , , to henrietta pease, of albany, illinois. oliver parsons.--mr. parsons was born in south paris, maine, and is also descended from revolutionary stock. he came to stillwater in , where he engaged in merchandising and farming. he removed to minneapolis in , where he is at present engaged in selling goods. he was married to c. jewell, april, . mr. parsons has ever been an exemplary man. albert stimson.--a native of york county, maine, mr. stimson spent there his early life, and, after a few years in new brunswick, came to stillwater in . he followed lumbering in his native state and on the st. croix. he served as surveyor general of the first district, minnesota, three years. he was a member of the minnesota territorial councils of and and a member of the house in . he was mayor of stillwater one year, alderman two years, and was also a supervisor of washington county. from to mr. stimson was a citizen of kanabec county, which county he helped organize, and of which he was one of the first commissioners. his present residence is anoka. abraham van voorhees.--mr. van voorhees' ancestors were patriots during the revolution, and lived in new york and new jersey. he was born in washington county, pennsylvania, dec. , . he was reared as a farmer. his school privileges were limited. "the major," as he was familiarly styled, once told me that the educational advantages he had received in youth were very few, and that his desires and ambitions were far beyond his means to satisfy and fulfill, and he remarked with justifiable pride: "and what i am now, if i amount to anything, i owe to strong nerves and will power; god has always sustained me, and i have always acknowledged allegiance to him." the major had an ingenious and inventive mind. being studious and industrious, he accomplished much without scholastic training, and became well versed in the sciences, and an acute reasoner. in he removed to athens county, ohio, where for five years he devoted himself to mechanical pursuits and the study of the sciences. in he removed to athens, and became editor and proprietor of the _hocking valley gazette_, and retained the editorship six years. while living in ohio, he served as county treasurer, county surveyor, member of the legislature, and state senator. in the latter position he served four years. in he was appointed by president taylor register of the united states land office at stillwater, which place he held until . in gov. ramsey appointed him territorial auditor. he was a representative in the territorial legislature of and of the state legislature of - . he was one of the commissioners for locating the capitol and university lands. he was postmaster in stillwater many years, and when he was eighty years of age acted as surveyor of washington county. such is a brief record of an unusually active and useful life. maj. van voorhees was a thoroughly good citizen and christian gentleman. in politics he was whig and republican. his church membership was in the presbyterian church, of which he became a member in . in he was married to mary workman voorhees. he died at his home in stillwater, jan. , , aged eighty-six years, and was buried with christian and masonic honors. michael e. ames, an attorney from boston, came to stillwater in , and became one of the leading lawyers of the territory. he was urbane and dignified, both in society and at the bar. he was a charming conversationalist, and such a ready and fluent speaker that it was a pleasure to listen to him. many of his witty sayings will long be remembered. he was twice married, but his domestic life was by no means a happy one. he died in st. paul in , his life, no doubt, shortened by intemperate habits, but he was polite and genial and witty to the last. joseph bonin is of french descent. he was born in montreal, canada, aug. , . he was married to margaret bruce in . the writer first met mr. bonin in stillwater in . he was then in the employ of john mckusick. he had spent much of his life on the frontier as an employe of the fur companies, and could relate many stirring incidents and perilous adventures. mr. bonin located at baytown at an early day. during the rebellion he was a member of company b, first minnesota heavy artillery. marcel gagnon.--mr. gagnon was born in lower canada, aug. , . on arriving at manhood he came to the united states, and was an employe of the american fur company several years. he removed to stillwater in , engaging in lumbering. in he enlisted in the minnesota volunteer independent battalion, and served three years. mr. gagnon is a polite, pleasant, hard working and independent man. sebastian marty was born in switzerland in , came to america in , to stillwater in , and located on a farm in section , town of stillwater, now known as the jackman homestead. in he made his home in section , town of lakeland, where he resided until his death, nov. , . his widow was formerly christine mamsche. he was a quiet, unobtrusive, thoroughly honest and reliable man. john marty was born in switzerland in . he learned the art of manufacturing straw goods in france. he came to america in , to stillwater in and not long after settled on his farm in baytown. he was married to anna m. henry, in st. paul, . adam marty.--mr. marty was born in switzerland in . in he came with his grandparents to america and located at st. louis. in he came to stillwater and learned the printer's trade. he was employed one year by john mckusick. he enlisted april , , in company b, first minnesota volunteers, was severely wounded at the battle of gettysburg, and honorably discharged. he resides in stillwater, where he has held responsible positions, and has taken a deep interest in the grand army of the republic, of which he has been post commander. michael mchale.--mr. mchale came from ireland in ; located first in quincy, illinois; then, , in galena; in in potosi, wisconsin, and in at stillwater. he was interested in a saw mill (mchale & johnson's), and operated also as a contractor in prison work. he was married to rosanna mcdermott in wisconsin, . she died in . george watson.--mr. watson is, in common parlance, a self-made man. left alone in the world and dependent entirely on his own exertions for a livelihood, he learned the carpenter's trade, learned it well, and followed it industriously through life. mr. watson was born in lycoming county, pennsylvania, sept. , , and came to the st. croix valley in . he lived a few years in hudson, and then removed to stillwater, where he has the credit of building many fine structures. he was married in to frances lyman, of stillwater. rev. eleazer a. greenleaf was educated at bangor theological seminary. he came to stillwater in , and became pastor of the first protestant episcopal church organized north of prairie du chien, excepting at fort snelling and some indian mission charges. mr. greenleaf was married to susan p. greely, of williamsburg, maine, in . he became a great sufferer in the later years of his life. he died in stillwater in . mrs. greenleaf died in minneapolis in . j. b. covey.--dr. j. b. covey came to stillwater in . he was born in duchess county, new york, in . he practiced medicine many years in missouri. he died in stillwater in . john shaesby was born in warwick, england, in ; came to america in , to stillwater in ; removed to st. croix county in , thence to st. joseph, to rush river and to baldwin in , where he died in , leaving two children and his widow in comfortable circumstances. his eldest daughter was the wife of capt. isaac gray. john s. proctor.--mr. proctor is of english descent, and was born in cavendish, windsor county, vermont, feb. , . he was favored with a common school education. in he came to st. louis, missouri, and served as mercantile clerk until , when he came to stillwater and engaged in lumbering and mercantile pursuits. he was a member of the firm of short, proctor & co., hardware merchants. in he was appointed warden of the minnesota state prison, which office he held until . in he was also appointed secretary and treasurer of the st. croix boom company. he performed the duties of both positions, but continued to serve the boom company twenty years. his experience and reliability made him almost the umpire of this company. he was appointed surveyor general for the years to , inclusive. mr. proctor was married to caroline lockwood, daughter of john lockwood, of prairie du chien, in . they have one son, levi. barron proctor, brother of john s. proctor, came to stillwater when a young man, but after a few years removed to new orleans, whence he returned to stillwater, and in engaged in flour manufacturing as one of the firm of cahill, townshend & co. he disposed of his interest in . mr. proctor was married to hettie carson, adopted daughter of socrates nelson and widow of john a. hanford. he lives in st. paul. henry westing is a native of hanover. he emigrated to america in and came to stillwater in . he commenced his business career as a day laborer and by industry, perseverance and tact, rose to a position of wealth and influence. he died in stillwater, feb. , , much esteemed by his associates for his sterling qualities of character. thomas dunn was born in , in queens county, ireland. he emigrated to america in , locating at miramachi, on the northeast coast of new brunswick. he came thence to maine, where he spent two years. he came to the st. croix valley in , located in stillwater, where he has since lived and been engaged in lumbering. he is the owner of a valuable land property at yellow lake, burnett county, wisconsin. he has been a member of the catholic church since infancy. charles j. gardiner was born at charlotte, maine, in , and came to stillwater in , where he followed lumbering and farming. he served as surveyor of the first minnesota district five years. he was married in to pamela jackman. they have five children. samuel staples was born in topsham, maine, september, . he came west from brunswick, maine, in , and located in stillwater, where he died, dec. , . he is the elder brother of isaac, silas and winslow staples. he leaves a widow (his second wife), two daughters, mrs. e. a. folsom and mrs. g. m. stickney, and two sons, josiah and winslow, besides a step-son, william langly. josiah staples, son of samuel, was born in brunswick, maine, june , . he received a good common school education. at the age of thirteen his family removed to penobscot county, and later to the province of new brunswick, but returned to maine in . in he came to stillwater, and has since been continuously engaged in milling and lumbering operations, and, latterly, in steamboating. he was married to lydia mcglaughlin in . his children are six sons and one daughter. joel m. darling was born in madison county, new york, in . he came to galena, illinois, in , and to stillwater in , where he engaged in farming. he served three years during the civil war in company f, seventh minnesota, and has since been pensioned for disabilities incurred in the service. he is unmarried. he lives in south stillwater. early river pilots. joe perro.--"big joe" as he was familiarly called, was large of frame and big-hearted as well, honest, manly, of good report for courage and honesty. he was fearless and prompt in taking the part of the weak and oppressed. we were once passing together up broadway, st. louis, when we passed a peanut stand. a small negro boy was crying piteously and begging the peanut vender to give him back his money, to which appeal the peanut vender was obdurate. we halted. joe perro organized a court, heard the testimony of man and boy, and satisfied himself that in making change the man had wrongfully withheld a dime due the boy. joe decided in favor of the boy and ordered the vender of peanuts to pay him the ten cents. he replied insolently: "it is none of your d----d business." that was enough to kindle the magazine of joe's wrath. a sudden blow of his fist, and the man was prostrate on the sidewalk and his peanuts and apples scattered. the last seen of the discomfited street merchant he was on his hands and knees scrambling with the boys for the possession of his scattered fruits, and casting an occasional vengeful glance at the towering form of "big joe" departing slowly from the scene of conflict. mr. perro is of french parentage, and a native of kaskaskia, illinois. he has been a resident of stillwater since . james mcphail.--mr. mcphail, as his name indicates, is of scotch parentage. he was born in inverness, scotland, in , and came to america in early life. he was one of the first log pilots on the waters of the mississippi and st. croix. he settled in stillwater in , was married to eliza purinton in , and died in st. louis in . mrs. mcphail died in stillwater in . they left no children. john cormack.--mr. cormack commenced piloting on the st. croix in . he was married in to miss jackins. he made his home in stillwater continuously for thirty years, during which time he served as pilot. he died at princeton, mille lacs county, in . john hanford.--mr. hanford was a st. croix river pilot in the ' s. he married an adopted daughter of socrates nelson, of stillwater. he died at stillwater. mrs. hanford subsequently married barron proctor. john leach.--mr. leach made his home at marine many years, during which time he engaged in piloting on the st. croix; subsequently he removed to stillwater. in the later years of his life he has been blind. stephen b. hanks.--mr. stephen b. hanks, formerly of albany, illinois, piloted the first raft from st. croix falls to st. louis in . he followed piloting rafts and steamboats until . samuel s. hanks.--samuel, a brother of stephen b., commenced piloting in the ' s, and is still active. among the early pilots on the st. croix and mississippi rivers were antoine lapoint, augustus barlow, richard whiting, james hickman, george m. penny, and daniel mclean. chapter iv. polk county--description and history. polk county contains , acres of land, well diversified with timber and prairie, uplands and valleys, rivers and lakes, and fertile enough to sustain a large population. the county was established by the wisconsin legislature in , and originally included much more territory than it now contains, new counties having been formed north and east of its present domain. indian traders had visited it at an earlier period, but the first permanent white settlement was made in , and the first pioneer who came with the serious intention of making permanent improvements was franklin steele. as mr. steele's history is in a great part the history of the early settlement, we insert it here, and very nearly in the language of mr. steele himself, as he communicated it to the writer some years since: "i came to the northwest in , a young man, healthy and ambitious, to dare the perils of an almost unexplored region, inhabited by savages. i sought fort snelling (which was at that time an active united states fort) as a point from which to start. in september, , immediately after the treaty was made ceding the st. croix valley to the government, accompanied by dr. fitch, of bloomington, iowa, we started from fort snelling in a bark canoe, also a scow loaded with tools, supplies and laborers, descended the mississippi river and ascended the st. croix to the dalles. we clambered over the rocks to the falls, where we made two land claims, covering the falls on the east side and the approach to it in the dalles. we built a log cabin at the falls, where the upper copper trap range crosses the river and where the old mill was afterward erected. a second log house we built in the ravine at the head of navigation. whilst building, four other parties arrived to make claim to this power. i found the veritable joe brown on the west side of the st. croix, trading with the indians, a few rods from where baker & taylor built their mill (near the end of the present toll bridge). brown had also cut pine logs, part of which, in , were used by baker & taylor, but most of them were burned by forest fires on the ground where they were felled. in february, , i made a trip to the falls with a dog team for the relief of one boyce, who was cutting logs at the mouth of snake river, and had had some trouble with the indians. i helped him until he left the country. peshick, a chief of the chippewas, said, 'we have no money for logs; we have no money for land. logs can not go.' he said he could not control his young men and would not be responsible for their acts. "in the spring of , from fort snelling we descended the mississippi river to prairie du chien in bark canoes, thence by steamer to st. louis, missouri, where a co-partnership was formed by messrs. fitch, of muscatine, iowa, libbey, of alton, illinois, hungerford and livingston, of st. louis, hill and holcombe, of quincy, illinois, and myself. we chartered the steamer palmyra, loaded her with all the materials with which to build a saw mill, including mechanics to do the work, and started for the scene of operations. plans for procedure, rules and by-laws were discussed and adopted during the journey on the steamer, and the new organization was christened the st. croix falls lumbering company. calvin a. tuttle was the millwright." the trip was made in safety, our immediate plans executed, and the palmyra was the first steamboat that ever sailed the st. croix river and lake. mr. steele made an estimate for the construction of the mill and dam at $ , , which he submitted to the company. it was accepted, and calvin a. tuttle, a millwright, was placed in charge of the work, but mr. steele sold his interest to the company before the mill was completed. on examination of the records we find that w. libbey was the first agent of the company. we find also from the same record that libbey knew little or nothing of the business he had undertaken. with a few barrels of whisky and one of beads he busied himself trading with the indians. this was the first whisky sold in the valley, and it was sold in defiance of government law. much could be written about this old pioneer company of the northwest, and its history, could it be truly written, would contain many thrilling incidents and scenes worthy of remembrance; but much is already forgotten and many of the most prominent actors have passed away, leaving no record of their lives. the company, as a corporation, passed through many changes of name and ownership. its history would be a history of litigations, of wranglings and feuds, of losses and gains, of mistakes, of blunders and of wrongs. in the first place, the mill was planned by men practically unfitted for such work, inexperienced in lumbering and unacquainted with the vast expenditures requisite for the opening up of a new country, hundreds of miles from labor and the supplies needed for manufacturing. there were three requisites present, a splendid water power, abundance of timber at convenient distances and a healthful climate; but these alone did not and could not make the enterprise a success. had practical, experienced lumbermen been employed the result might have been different, but impractical methods, enormous expenses, with no profits or dividends, caused most of the company to withdraw, forfeiting their stock in preference to continuing with the prospect of total bankruptcy. goods were brought annually, at great expense, from st. louis by the large steamers which then controlled the trade of the mississippi and the st. croix. the navigation of the st. croix grew annually more difficult, the immense number of logs floated down since wearing away the banks and increasing the number and area of sand bars and not infrequently obstructing the channel with jams. it is not known exactly how or when the name of st. croix came to be applied to the beautiful river bearing it, but la harpe, in his "louisiana," gives the most plausible account of its origin: "this name is not ecclesiastical in its associations, but named after monsieur st. croix, who was drowned at its mouth." le sueur, who explored the upper mississippi in , says he left a large river on the east side, named st. croix, because a frenchman of that name was drowned at its mouth. as duluth was the first white man to embark in the waters of the st. croix, descending it in canoes, from near lake superior, which he did in ; and as hennepin and la salle ascended the mississippi the same year, the name could not have had an earlier origin, but may be fixed as given sometime between and . an old map in my possession, one hundred and twenty-five years old, gives the present name of the river and lake. the st. croix valley embraces an area of territory from to miles in width, and about miles in length. its northern water, upper lake st. croix, is about miles from lake superior. the southern portion is a rich prairie country, interspersed with groves of hardwood timber. the more northern portion is interspersed with groves of pine, tamarack, cedar, balsam and hardwoods. the whole district, with a small exception, is a cereal country. it abounds in wild meadows, and much of the swampy portion will ultimately be utilized by ditching, which will transform it all into a good stock raising country. about eight-tenths of this entire valley is fitted by nature for agriculture. wheat, the leading cereal, averages ten to thirty bushels per acre; the growth of tame grasses can not be excelled; vegetables grow to wonderful size; native wild fruits abound; cultivated fruits are being successfully introduced; cranberries are being cultivated in the northern part. wheat, stock, and pine lumber are the principal articles of export. the southern portion is well watered by the st. croix and its tributaries--kinnikinic, willow, apple, sunrise, and smaller streams, lakes and springs. the northern portion is abundantly watered by the st. croix and tributaries--wolf, trade, wood, clam, yellow, namakagan, rush, kanabec and kettle rivers. small streams and lakes are numerous, of which only the largest are named on the maps. the valley is abundantly supplied with water power, capable of running enough manufactories to work up all the products of the country. the soil is, as a general thing, dry and arable. april and may are the seeding months. crops mature, and are seldom injured by frosts. the whole country adjacent to this valley will answer to this general description. on the twenty-ninth day of july, , our government purchased the valley of the st. croix of the indians at a treaty held at fort snelling, gov. henry dodge and gen. wm. r. smith acting as commissioners. the purchase was ratified in congress in the spring of . polk county, originally a part of crawford, in became a part of st. croix, and in received its present organization and name, the latter in honor of james k. polk, eleventh president of the united states. this country occupies the eastern part of the valley of the st. croix lying between burnett and st. croix counties on the north and south, and barron on the east, the st. croix river forming its western boundary. the surface is agreeably diversified with forest and prairie land, and is supplied with excellent springs, rivers and lakes. most of the underlying rock is sandstone. this rock crops out along the banks of the st. croix and is extensively used for building purposes. lime rock is also found along the river banks, some of which is of a superior grade, notably that below osceola, which is manufactured into lime and exported. the natural scenery can scarcely be surpassed in the west. the towering, precipitous bluffs along the st. croix, the picturesque trap rocks of the dalles, and the bright clear lakes of the interior have long been an attraction to the tourist. the lakes and smaller streams abound in fish, and the latter are famous for their abundance of brook trout. the county seat at the organization of the county was located at st. croix falls. the first election held in the limits of the present county of polk, prior to its organization, was at st. croix falls, then a voting precinct, known as caw-caw-baw-kang, a chippewa name, meaning waterfall. the returns of this election were made to prairie du chien. i was present at the canvassing of these returns. they were found to be accurate. annually since then elections were held at this point and returns made, first to prairie du chien, crawford county, then to stillwater, st. croix county, to hudson, st. croix county, and to osceola mills, polk county. by an election held in polk county just after its organization the county seat was removed to osceola mills, by a unanimous vote. the records of the first elections can not be found, they having been stolen from the safe in . the following county officers were elected in : isaac freeland, clerk of court and register of deeds; e. c. treadwell, sheriff; oscar a. clark, surveyor; wm. kent, county treasurer; harmon crandall, coroner; nelson mccarty, district attorney; j. freeland, clerk of board of supervisors. the first meeting of the board of supervisors was held in osceola, in isaac freeland's building, where the offices were located for many years. the first court was held in the school house, wyram knowlton presiding. both petit and grand juries were in attendance. isaac freeland was the first attorney admitted to practice. isaac w. hale was the first county judge. the first marriage was that of lewis barlow to ---- ----, at st. croix falls. the first birth in the county was that of charles northrup, son of anson northrup, at st. croix falls ( ). the first death was that of john kelly, by drowning ( ), at st. croix falls. the first school in the county was established at st. croix falls by miss tainter, from prairie du chien, in . the first school house was built in osceola in , the second at st. croix falls in . the first mail, established in , was carried up the st. croix river by batteaus in summer and by sleds over the ice in winter. the mail was weekly; the carrier was dr. philip aldrich. the first land mail route was in , from willow river to st. croix falls. the mail was carried by dr. aldrich through the woods. the first stage route was established in . the first deed we find of polk county property is recorded at prairie du chien sept. , , from james purinton to john witherell, of st. louis, missouri, for $ , ,--a deed of trust covering a saw mill at st. croix falls. the second deed is from benj. t. otis to edmond johnson, conveying an undivided interest in a pre-emption claim, known as the northrup or jerusalem claim, about one mile east of st. croix falls, for $ . the first deed recorded in the county of old st. croix was sept. , , from james purinton, of st. croix falls, to john h. ferguson, of the city of st. louis, missouri,--consideration $ , ,--of st. croix falls water power property. the first store was built in st. croix falls in and stocked with goods by the st. croix falls company. the first blacksmith shop and the first hotel were built at st. croix falls. the first grist mill was built at osceola in . the first crops were raised at "jerusalem," the first farm in the county, in . "jerusalem" was the farm now owned by wm. blanding, and was early noted as a resort for pleasure seekers, as a place for picnics and base ball games. the first pre-emption and entry of land was made in , by harmon crandall, of farmington. settlers came into the county slowly until about , since which time the population has more rapidly increased. the liquor traffic. undoubtedly the greatest curse to the pioneers of a new settlement, and to the aborigines as well, is the liquor traffic. the indians, under the influence of whisky, became infuriated and were capable of committing any atrocity; the effects upon the whites were not so violent but just as surely demoralizing, and in time as fatal. among dealers in the vile fluid there was no one more persistent and unscrupulous than capt. m. m. samuels. during the summers of and there was no other whisky selling house at the falls. the character of the whisky sold was vile beyond description. mrs. h---- and son informed me that they were employed by samuels during the summer in compounding various roots with tobacco and boiling them, for the manufacture of a strong drink that was sold for whisky. many, both whites and indians, were poisoned by this compound. as an emphatic evidence against the vileness of the liquor, i append some of the blighting results: a talented young lawyer, hall by name, from philadelphia, became infatuated with the peculiar whisky furnished by samuels, and when insane from its effects ran from barlow's boarding house to a high rock overhanging the st. croix river, just below the falls, plunged in and was drowned. another, named douglas, under the same influence, tried repeatedly to drown himself, when his friends bound him securely with cords. he then managed to stab himself. alexander livingston, a man who in youth had had excellent advantages, became himself a dealer in whisky, at the mouth of wolf creek, in a drunken melee in his own store was shot and killed by robido, a half-breed. robido was arrested but managed to escape justice. livingston, once, when on his way from wolf creek to clam falls, sought refuge in my camp, having with him two kegs of whisky. the indians soon collected at the camp in fighting trim and sung and danced madly about the door of the cabin, and clamored for scoot-a-wa-bo (whisky). i refused to allow any whisky to be issued. the indians were furious. livingston cowered with fear. foreseeing trouble i ordered nat tibbetts and jonathan brawn to take the kegs and follow me. the indians stopped their gymnastic performances and gazed intently. with an axe and with a single blow on each keg i knocked in the heads, and the whisky was soon swallowed up in the snow. the indians sprang forward with demoniac yells and commenced licking up the saturated snow, after which they danced around me, calling me "oge-ma" (captain). i gave them food and they went away sober and apparently satisfied. frontier justice. in the spring of there were two rival whisky sellers at or near balsam lake. miles tornell, a norwegian, was located midway between the lake and the falls. miller, a german, had his post at the lake. miller was an older trader, and claimed exclusive rights. a bitter feeling sprang up between them, which resulted, as the testimony afterward proved, in the murder of tornell. his house was burned, and his body found concealed in a coal pit. one mclaughlin, who was stopping with tornell, was also murdered. an investigation was set on foot. samuels and fields acted as detectives, and fixed the crime upon an indian, whom they arrested on an island in blake's lake, and brought to the falls for trial. h. h. perkins acted as judge, a jury of good men was impaneled, and the trial was held in daniel mears' store. a prosecuting attorney and counsel for the accused were appointed. the indian frankly confessed the killing, and said that he had been hired to do the bloody work by miller. another indian testified to being present on the occasion of the murder. after brief remarks by the lawyers, the jury brought in a verdict of guilty. there was no formal sentence. the indian was kept under guard till next morning, when, by the unanimous consent of all present, he was hanged to a tree, since blighted, that stood near the old burying ground (later louisiana street), and was hanged, samuels officiating as sheriff. the indians present were permitted to take the body, which they buried with indian rites. toward miller, who ought to have been held as principal, the crowd were unexpectedly lenient. instead of being hanged upon the same tree, he was merely lashed to it, and flogged, pat collins administering fifteen strokes on the bare back with a beech withe. he was then placed on a steamboat and ordered to leave the country, never to return. of the more active participants in the hanging, pat collins, who officiated as hangman, and who flogged miller, was undeniably a hard citizen. he had a bitter grudge against miller, and administered the strokes with a will. he was himself hanged some years later in california for highway robbery. chas. f. rowley, who assisted in the hanging, lived for some years on a farm at wolf creek, enlisted in in the union army, and was killed in battle. population of st. croix falls in . the following heads of families resided in st. croix falls in : h. h. perkins, edward worth, g. w. brownell, otis hoyt, j. saunders, r. arnold, l. barlow, a. l. tuttle, m. m. samuels, geo. de attley, moses perin, and w. h. c. folsom. the following single men claimed this as their home: d. mears, j. l. and n. c. d. taylor, p. kelly, a. romain, j. and w. r. marshall, w. f. colby, dr. de witt, w. j. vincent, c. dexter, a. youle, h. h. newberry, j. and o. weymouth, geo. field, w. w. folsom, j. h. tuller, j. dobney, j. paine, and some others whose names i can not readily recall. natural language. the indians, when unable to talk english, nevertheless managed to express themselves intelligibly by gestures, picture writing, and vocal utterances, imitating the sounds which they wished to describe. a kind old chippewa occasionally visited my camp. he would sit by the camp fire and mark out in the ashes the outlines of lakes and streams. in tracing south clam river, at a certain point he drew a line across the stream, and blew his breath between his teeth and lips in such a way as to perfectly imitate the sound of falling water. sometime afterward, in exploring clam river, on rounding a curve i heard the sound of falling water, and found the fall just as he had located it. the drowning of hamlet h. perkins. mr. perkins had been in the village since , acting as agent for the falls company until the winter of - , when he was accidentally drowned while attending to his duties. he was engaged in repairing the dam, and was standing on a block of ice. in an unguarded moment he lost his foothold and was carried by the swift current under the ice. it was two days before his body was recovered. his family left the valley, taking the body with them. a quailtown murder. st. croix falls. the buildings consisted of a dwelling house, whisky shop, bowling alley, indian house and stable, the whole inappropriately styled quailtown, as the name was a gross slander upon the innocent birds. the quails in this "partridge" nest were evil birds. the resort was noted for its riotous disorder. the worst classes met there for revelry and midnight orgies. in the summer of alfred romain and patrick kelly met at quailtown, disputed, fought, were parted, and the neat day met by agreement to continue the fight with pistols. they were to meet at sunrise in front of daniel mears' store. an attempt was made to pacify them, but in vain. only romain appeared at the appointed place, and not finding kelly, hunted through the village for him. about o'clock a. m. he found him at the house of kimball, a mulatto man. romain shot him at sight, fatally. at the inquest, held by dr. hoyt, it was proven that romain fired four shots into the body of kelly, each taking effect, and then crushed his skull with the pistol, and that kelly fired one shot at romain. romain was held for murder, but was never brought to trial. after two years' confinement he escaped from the jail at prairie du chien. romain afterward removed to st. louis, reformed his mode of life and became a steady and respectable man. kelly was a native of ireland, and at the time of his death was engaged to be married to an estimable lady, one of the corps of teachers sent out by gov. slade. mineral permits. in a party of speculators, composed of caleb cushing, rufus choate, robert rantoul, and others, located a mineral permit, one mile square, covering part of the site of the two towns of st. croix and taylor's falls, with the water power as the centre. their permit was filed in the general land office at washington. they located another permit at or near the mouth of kettle river. as no money was ever expended in improving them, these permits were never respected. subsequently the government resurveyed the lands and sold them. the present title to these lands is perfectly good. marriage under difficulties. in the olden time officers could not always readily be found to execute the laws. parties desiring to be married, being unable to secure the services of a minister or justice of the peace, would seek for an officer on the other side of the river, get on a raft or boat, cast off the fastenings and under the concurrent jurisdiction of the state and territorial authorities, would be pronounced "man and wife." parties have had the same rite performed in the winter season while standing on the ice of the st. croix midway between the two shores. an indian scare. during the excitement following the indian outbreak, there was a general feeling of insecurity and alarm. the half-breeds were especially apprehensive of some kind of violence. one bright moonlight evening, at st. croix, a surveyor was taking some observations, and as his instrument glittered brightly in the moonlight, the half-breeds saw it and fled, badly frightened, fancying a sioux behind every bush. the whites seeing them running, as if for their lives, caught the panic, and fled over to the minnesota side. the taylor's falls people were aroused from their peaceful slumbers to find, soon after, that it was a false alarm. some of the fugitives hid underneath the bridge and clung to the trestle work till morning. the first fire canoe. i am indebted to calvin a. tuttle for the following reminiscence: in july, , the steamer palmyra, capt. middleton, of hannibal, missouri, in command, the first steamer on st. croix waters, brought me to st. croix falls, landing in the dalles, east side, opposite angle rock. the snorting of the palmyra brought many curiosity seeking indians to the dalles. they gathered on the pinnacles of the trap rock, peered curiously over and jumped back, trembling with fright at the "scota cheman" or "fire canoe," the first that had ever floated on the placid waters of the st. croix. i had been employed as millwright to erect mills in the new, and, as yet, almost unknown settlement. on the palmyra came the proprietors, steele, fitch, hungerford, libbey, livingston, hill, and russell, with mill irons, tools and provisions for the enterprise. mill building. after climbing over the cragged rocks we came to an indian trail which led to the falls, where we found two men, lagoo and denire holding the claim for steele. the fanciful scheme of building a mill up in the wild land looked now like a reality. the men lived in a log cabin just below the falls, in a small clearing in the timber, near a copper rock range. boyce and his men had been driven in by indians from above. andrew mackey and others of boyce's men went to work with us. thirty-six men had come from st. louis on the steamer palmyra. we moved our machinery from the dalles to the falls by water and commenced work immediately. steele's men had been hindered by the indians from procuring timber for the building of the mill. we obtained a supply from kanabec river, which arrived september th. building the mill and blasting the rock occupied our attention during the winter. the mill was soon completed and running. during this period the work was often interrupted and the men were greatly demoralized by the threatening behavior of the indians. many of them were frightened into leaving the settlement, but their places were supplied by the company whenever practicable. during we received some reliable accessions, among them j. l. taylor, john mckusick, joseph haskell, elam greely, j. w. furber and a. mchattie. some frame houses were built near the mill. washington libbey was our first agent, darnes our second ( ), capt. w. frazer our third ( ), capt. wm. holcombe our fourth ( ). the first death was of a man drowned in . the first white woman who visited the falls was mrs. david hone. rev. boutwell preached here in . a. northrup and family came in . indian murders. in jeremiah russell, the indian farmer at pokegama, pine county, minnesota, sent two chippewa indians to st. croix falls for supplies, who arrived in safety. a band of fifty sioux indians were concealed at this (st. croix falls) settlement for some days. within an hour after the arrival of the two chippewas, the settlement was surrounded by these sioux. the whites, seeing that trouble was brewing, secreted the chippewas for two days, the sioux closely watching. the white men were restless, and afraid to go to work. capt. frazer, rev. ayers and myself held a council and explained the situation to the chippewas, who replied that they would not expose the whites to trouble. they resolved on leaving and started in open day north over the trap rock ridge, thence through the bushes, where they discovered two sioux. the chippewas were armed and fired on the sioux, killing them instantly. the chippewas then started to run. the report of the guns brought squads of sioux immediately in pursuit, who, firing on the chippewas, killed one. the two dead sioux were sons of little crow. they were placed by the sioux in a sitting posture, with backs to a tree, facing the enemy's country, on the second bench near where the mill dam was subsequently built, a double barreled gun standing on the ground between them. they decorated the corpses with war paint, ribbons and mosses. the two chippewas who killed little crow's sons bore the titles julius and wezhaymah. the sioux in pursuit killed julius, and his head was hung up in a kettle before those he had slain. his body was chopped in pieces and scattered to the four winds. from an historical letter, written by mrs. e. t. ayer, who lives at belle prairie, minnesota, and whom we have elsewhere mentioned, we have the following description of the death of the sons of little crow: "julius was of medium height, stout build, very neat, and when in full dress very few indians would favorably compare with him. being a good hunter he had the means of gratifying his taste. his hair was long and abundant, and was kept clean and shining by the frequent use of comb and brush, with the help of a little marrow or bear's oil. three or four of his numerous long braids, studded with silver brooches, hung gracefully on both sides of his face and over his arms--the rest of his dress in a manner corresponding. his hair, like absalom's, did not save him from his enemies. the dakotas may dance around it for generations and never see its equal. "wezhaymah made his appearance at pokegama. as he drew near the houses he gave a salute from his double barreled gun. the ojibways were much frightened. they believed the sioux had returned to make another trial for scalps and plunder. the first impulse of the women was to hide. the chief's wife and oldest daughter being at the mission house, went through a trap door into a dark cellar. but when the supposed dead stood before them, alive and well, there was great rejoicing. "wezhaymah said that julius killed both of little crow's sons; that the sioux followed him but a short distance, then all turned after julius. he took a circuitous route home, traveling in the night and hiding in the day. julius' parents, joseph and eunice, and other members of their family, were members of the mission church. he and his wife made no profession, though they sometimes attended religious worship." about twenty days after, about one hundred sioux came from little crow's band at red rock for the bodies of their dead comrades and the gun, having first, by means of spies, satisfied themselves that there were no chippewas in the vicinity. one morning, as the whites were going to work, they were surprised by the sudden appearance of these indians, who rushed suddenly down upon them from different trails, gorgeously painted and without blankets. their movements were so sudden that the whites were completely surprised, and at the mercy of the indians, who, however, satisfied themselves with searching the camp and appropriating all the victuals they could find, ostensibly searching for the gun which was not to be found where they had left it. complaining bitterly of its loss, they withdrew to a trap rock ledge near by, where they formed a circle, danced, sung and fired several guns into the air. they then asked to see "oge-ma," the agent, and formally demanded the gun. everyone in camp denied any knowledge whatever of the missing article. the indians were at first much dissatisfied, but finally little crow advanced, smoked a pipe and offered it to. capt. frazer, shook hands and withdrew, apparently in peace. as it is not the custom for indians to molest the dead, they firmly believed a white man had taken the gun. little crow applied to maj. plympton at fort snelling, charging the theft upon the whites. the major in turn wrote to capt. frazer at the falls to make an investigation, as a result of which the gun was found in a tool chest belonging to lewis barlow, concealed under a false bottom. barlow professed entire innocence and ignorance of the matter, suggesting that his brother must have placed the gun there. capt. frazer severely reprimanded him for imperiling the lives of all the whites in the settlement by his foolish and thievish act. the gun was sent to maj. plympton, who wrote to capt. frazer cautioning him to be on his guard, as the indians were much irritated. barlow had earned the contempt and dislike of his fellow workmen. indian battle of stillwater mr. tuttle was at the falls at the time of the famous battle between the sioux and chippewas, which was fought in the ravine where the minnesota state prison now stands, july , , and has given me the following account: the chippewas of the st. croix had been invited by the officer in command at fort snelling to a council, the object of which was to effect a treaty of peace. two hundred and fifty or three hundred chippewas, including their women and children, passed down the st. croix in canoes, rested in fancied security in the ravine near the present site of stillwater, and made a portage thence to fort snelling, where, under protection of government soldiers, the council was held. the pipe of peace had been smoked and the chippewas were quietly returning home, and had encamped a second time in the ravine, expecting to re-embark the next morning on the waters of the st. croix. just at the dawn of the ensuing day, and while they were still asleep, a large body of sioux, who had stealthily followed them, fell upon them suddenly, and with wild yells commenced an indiscriminate slaughter. the chippewas rallying, drove the sioux from the ground, thereby retaining possession of their dead, to the number of about thirty. after the smoke of peace at fort snelling it was reported that a sioux had been killed. this incensed them so that they followed in two parties, one party pursuing the st. croix band and another the mille lacs band up rum river. the latter party overtook the chippewas at the point where princeton is now located, and slew sixty of their number. it was afterward ascertained that the sioux killed near fort snelling was killed by a pillager of the upper mississippi, an indian of a band that was not in the council. the sioux and chippewas, it is true, are bitter, relentless, hereditary foes, but this slaughter occurred through a grievous mistake. the chippewas, on their return, rested at the falls. capt. frazer gave them medicine, dressed their wounds and fed them. the indians gave way to the wildest grief at their losses, and when they heard of the sixty killed of the mille lacs band, their mourning cries and moans baffled description. the first loggers. the first logs were cut by j. r. brown on the taylor's falls flat in the winter of - , but the first regular outfit and camp was that of john boyce, who came up in a mackinaw boat from st. louis with eleven men and six oxen, landing at st. croix falls late in the fall of . mr. andrew mackey, who was in his party, has furnished me with some items regarding this adventure. the boat was cordelled over the rapids, and, with poles and lines, taken as far as the mouth of kanabec river, where a camp was established. boyce had considerable trouble with the indians. little six, a chippewa chief, came to the camp with two hundred warriors in a defiant, blustering manner, telling him to "go away," to "go back where they came from." boyce proceeded to the indian mission at lake pokegama and invoked the aid of rev. mr. boutwell, ely, ayers and seymour, who came back with him to the camp and had a "talk" with little six, who claimed that the whites had paid no money. mr. seymour explained to them the provisions of the treaty, of which they would soon hear; that under its provisions the whites had a right to the timber; that they were not usurpers, that they would live peaceably and not disturb their game. the indians granted assent, but refused to allow the whites to remove any of their chingwack (pine). mr. seymour, apprehending trouble, advised mr. boyce to leave. he determined to remain. the indians being still troublesome, mr. boyce descended the river to the falls, the indians following. on going over the falls the boat filled and mr. boyce lost nearly all he had. the palmyra shortly after broke the silence of the dalles with its shrill whistle and brought the news of the ratification of the treaty by congress. boyce sent his boat down the river, built small boats and made haste to return to his camp on kanabec river, where he remained through the fall and winter cutting logs. the first rafting. in april and may of , boyce rafted his logs with poles and ropes made of basswood strings. the high water swept them away. he gathered from the broken rafts enough for one raft, made it as strong as possible, and continued the descent. the raft struck upon the first island and went to pieces. boyce saved the canoe and a part of the provisions. boyce was by this time in a furious rage at his want of success, but tried a third time to make a raft. the crew, tired and hungry, refused to work. a new contract was made and written on a slate, there being no paper. the logs were left in the river. some of them floated down and were sold to the falls company and to the company at marine. boyce lost all his labor and investment; the men got but little for their work. frank steele had assisted in supplying provisions and clothing for the men, the value of which he never received. boyce was disgusted and left the country. an indian payment. levi w. stratton, who came up on the palmyra, july, , gives a few reminiscences from which we select an account of a payment made to the chippewa indians the year of his arrival. the crew and passengers of the palmyra had been greatly annoyed by the indians, who expected their first payment in july, and besieged the boat in great numbers, demanding it at the hands of the first whites who had come up the river, unable to understand the difference between the regularly constituted authorities and those immigrants who had nothing to do with the payments. it was not until the first week of november that their goods came for payment. the place where stillwater now stands was selected as the place where they should assemble. the old stern wheel gipsey brought the goods and landed them on the beach. the chippewas came there to the number of , in their canoes, nearly starved by waiting for their payment. while there receiving it the river and lake froze up, and a deep snow came on; thus all their supplies, including one hundred barrels of flour, twenty-five of pork, kegs of tobacco, bales of blankets, guns and ammunition, casks of mexican dollars, etc., all were sacrificed except what they could carry off on their backs through the snow hundreds of miles away. their fleet of birch canoes they destroyed before leaving, lest the sioux might have the satisfaction of doing the same after they left. many of the old as well as the young died from overeating, they being nearly starved. thus their first payment became a curse rather than a blessing to them, for their supplies soon gave out, the season for hunting was past, they were away from home and had no means of getting there, except by wading through deep snow. many perished in the attempt. as is usual in such cases, i suppose, no one was to blame, but the poor indians had to suffer the consequences of somebody's neglect. the old gipsey had scarcely time to get through the lake before the ice formed. indian dancing and theft. in the rough log cabin at st. croix falls were three females, the wives of messrs. orr and sackett, employes of the company, and miss young, daughter of a widower of that name. life in that cabin was by no means a dream of bliss, for in consequence of the mosquitoes, more relentless persecutors than the indians, a smudge had to be kept burning night and day, or at least by day when the sun was not shining. the old cabin served for a kitchen, while an arbor was improvised outside for a dining room. shortly after the arrival of the immigrants, and before they had learned all the peculiarities of indian character, they were visited by a party of fifteen or twenty braves, who set about adorning themselves, and spent the forenoon in painting and getting themselves up in gorgeous rig, regardless of expense, preparatory to giving a free entertainment. just before dinner was called, they arranged themselves near the table and gave a dance, which was very much applauded, after which they were given presents of bread and meat, and dismissed, apparently highly pleased with the success of their exhibition. the household gathered about the table to enjoy their repast, but to their consternation, not a knife, fork or spoon could be found. while the majority of the indians were riveting the attention of the new comers by their extraordinary antics, the remainder were quietly abstracting the tableware. they were afterward charged with the theft, but protested innocence. the missing articles were never heard of again. a pig of lead, left outside, disappeared at the same time. the poor indians denied ever having seen the lead. mr. stratton remarked, however, that all their war clubs, pipes and gun stocks had been lately and elaborately ornamented with molten lead. other thefts. at another time, shortly before payment, when the indians were unusually hungry and troublesome, two barrels of pork and one of butter mysteriously disappeared. the pork barrels were found empty in the river, and also the butter barrel with one-third of the contents missing. the indians lay all day in camp sick, but protested their innocence. nevertheless, at payment day a claim of two hundred dollars for the pork and one hundred and fifty for the butter was allowed and kept back. they made no objections to paying for the pork, but protested against paying for the butter, as it did them no good and made them all sick. in september, an old indian came to the cabin, begging for something to eat. the agent went to the pork barrel and held up a fine piece of pork weighing about twelve pounds, to which the tail was still attached. at sight of this his countenance fell and he went away silently and sullenly. shortly afterward a yoke of oxen was missing. they had been driven off over some bare ledges of trap to break the trail. an indian was hired to hunt for them. he found that this same beggar who had been so disgusted with the offer of a piece of pork with the tail attached had driven them off and slaughtered them. payment day made all right, and the indians were compelled to pay a good price for rather poor beef. hard times. mrs. mary c. worth communicated to the writer the following incidents, illustrating some of the vicissitudes of the early settlers: it was in the fall of . there were about two hundred people in the village, most of them in the employ of james purinton, company agent. they were already short of provisions and the winter was rapidly coming on, and the expected boat, with its cargo of provisions for the winter supply, was long delayed. september passed, october came and nearly passed, and still no boat. snow covered the ground, and thin ice the river. the ice, in finely broken pieces, floated down the rapids and was beginning to gorge in the dalles, and still no boat. provisions were allotted to the resident families, and the gloomiest anticipations filled all minds at the prospect of the long, dreary winter without food; when, on the twenty-eighth of october, the long expected whistle was heard from the coming steamer. the people rushed frantically down to the old warehouse, but the ice was so gorged in the dalles that no boat could make the landing. no boat was in sight, nor was the whistle heard again. had it all been an illusion? the eager throng were again in despair. another night of cold would blockade the river. just then the voices of white men were heard from the rocks of the dalles, and to their great joy they perceived the boat's officers and passengers clambering down from the rocks, with the glad tidings that the boat had reached the landing, half a mile below, and was then unloading her cargo. the boat, as soon as unloaded, hurriedly departed to avoid being frozen in. the winter passed merrily enough, but clouds and darkness gathered in the spring. provisions were again short, and had to be apportioned sparingly and equally. occasionally a deer or a fish eked out the supply, but starvation was again imminent. on this occasion they were relieved by the reception of condemned pork from fort snelling. the st. louis proprietors sent up another boat load of supplies after the opening of navigation, and all seemed well, when, during the prevalence of high water, the boom and mill race gave way and the logs, their main dependence, were swept down the river and beyond their control. this important occurrence, as it then seemed to be, opened up for the company and people a new trade from the valley below, which has been a source of immense profit. it suggested the idea of booming and rafting their logs for points down the river, and led to the building of the first saw mill at stillwater. ugh! ugh! mr. purinton at one time invited a few noted indians who were begging for food to be seated at his table. he politely asked them if they would have tea or coffee. "ugh! ugh!" (equivalent to yes, yes) replied the whole party. so mr. purinton mixed their tea and coffee. mrs. worth and muckatice. muckatice, a chippewa chief, heard that a barrel of whisky had been stored for safe keeping in the cellar of mrs. worth, at balsam lake. muckatice forced himself into the house and attempted to raise the cellar trap door. mrs. worth forbade him and placed herself upon the door. muckatice roughly pushed her aside. he raised the trap door, and, while in the act of descending, fell. while falling mrs. worth suddenly shut the trap door upon him, by which one of his legs was caught. mrs. worth held the door tightly down. when at last muckatice was released, gathering a crowd of indians he returned and demanded the whisky. thayer, with ropes, managed to get the barrel out of the cellar and out upon the ground, and seeing the peril of giving so much whisky to the indians, knocked in both heads of the barrel with an axe, and the earth drank the poisonous fluid. muckatice then shook hands with mrs. worth, called her very brave, and departed. chapter v. biographies. the biographical histories of the early settlers of polk county considerably antedate the organization of the towns to which they would be referred as at present belonging, and we therefore group together those earliest identified with the history of the valley, and its first settlement at st. croix falls, referring also some, such as joseph r. brown, gov. w. r. marshall and frank steele, to localities in which they had been more intimately connected. gov. wm. holcombe was one of the active resident proprietors and agent of the st. croix falls lumber company from to . he was born at lambertville, new jersey, in ; left home when a boy; went to utica, new york, where he learned the wheelwright trade. he married martha wilson, of utica; moved to columbus, ohio, and was successful in business, but lost all by fire, when he moved to cincinnati, and from thence to galena. while in galena he embarked in steamboating on the mississippi. mrs. holcombe died in galena. from galena he came to st. croix falls, where he devoted his time as agent to selling lumber and keeping books. mr. holcombe took a deep interest in opening the valley to public notice and improvement. he traveled over the wilderness country from prairie du chien to st. croix falls before there was a blazed path, driving horses and cattle. he helped locate the two first roads in the valley from the mouth of st. croix lake, via marine, to st. croix falls and from st. croix falls, via sunrise and rush lakes, to russell's farm, on pokegama lake. he supervised the cultivation of the first crops raised in polk county, at jerusalem. he settled in stillwater in , where he became an active worker in behalf of education, and did much to establish the present excellent system of schools. in he was a member of the first constitutional convention of wisconsin territory, representing this valley and all the country north of crawford county. he was a faithful worker on the boundary question, and effected a change from the st. croix to a point fifteen miles due east, from the most easterly point on lake st. croix, from thence south to the mississippi river and north to the waters of lake superior. his course was approved by his constituents. in he took an active part in the formation of minnesota territory, and was secretary of the first convention called for that purpose in stillwater. he was receiver of the united states land office at stillwater four years. he was a member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention for minnesota in , and was honored by being elected first lieutenant governor of minnesota in . the name of gov. holcombe will long be remembered in the valley of the st. croix. he died in stillwater, sept. , , and was buried with masonic honors. he left two sons, william w. and edward van buren, by his first wife. he married a second wife in galena, in , who died in . william s. hungerford was born in connecticut, aug. , . he was married to lucinda hart, at farmington, connecticut, in . he came to st. louis, missouri, at an early age and engaged in mercantile pursuits in the firm of hungerford & livingston. in he became one of the original proprietors of the st. croix falls lumbering company, and gave his time and talents to its welfare. he was of a hopeful temperament, and even in the darkest hour of the enterprise in which he had embarked, cherished a most cheerful faith in its ultimate success. hon. caleb cushing, whose name was to be associated intimately with that of mr. hungerford in the future history and litigation of the company, recognizing st. croix falls as a point promising unrivaled attractions to the manufacturer, in purchased an interest in the company, which was at once reorganized with cushing and hungerford as principal stockholders. the acute mind of gen. cushing recognized not only the prospective advantages of the water power, but the probability of the division of wisconsin territory, which might result in making st. croix falls the capital of the new territory, and formed plans for the development of the company enterprise, which might have resulted advantageously had not he been called away to take part in the mexican war and thence to go on a political mission to china. during his absence there was a complete neglect of his american inland projects and the enterprise at st. croix suffered greatly; the new company accomplished but little that was agreed upon in the consolidation. cushing had inexperienced agents, unfitted to attend to his interest. he furnished money sufficient, if judiciously handled, to have made a permanent, useful property here. conflicting questions arose between hungerford and cushing's agents, which terminated in lawsuits. the first suit was in , hungerford, plaintiff. different suits followed, one after another, for over twenty years, which cursed the property more than a mildew or blight. during this time the parties alternated in use and possession, by order of court. hungerford, during these trials, pre-empted the land when it came in market. for this he was arrested on complaint of perjury. hungerford, by order of court, was, on his arrest, taken away in chains. he was soon after released. hungerford was an indefatigable worker. the labor of his life was invested in the improvements of the company. cushing, being a man of talent and influence, could fight the battle at a distance. he employed the best legal talent in the land; he met hungerford at every turn, and hungerford became a foe worthy of his steel. they unitedly accomplished the ruin of their town. mr. hungerford had an excellent family, making their home at the falls during all their perplexities. on the occasion of his arrest he was manacled in presence of his family, who bore it with a fortitude worthy the name and reputation of the father and husband. the litigation ended only with the death of the principal actors. the perishable part of the property, mills and other buildings, has gone to ruin. the whole history is a sad comment on the folly of attempting to manage great enterprises without harmony of action and purpose. mr. hungerford died in monticello, illinois, in . mrs. hungerford died in connecticut in . mr. cushing died in . hon. henry d. barron.--henry danforth barron was born in saratoga county, new york, april , . he received a common school education, studied law, and graduated from the law school at ballston spa, new york. he came to wisconsin in ; learned the printer's trade, and was afterward editor of the waukesha _democrat_. in he removed to pepin, wisconsin, and in received the appointment of circuit judge of the eighth district. in september, , he came to st. croix falls, as agent for caleb cushing and the st. croix manufacturing and improvement company. he was elected to the lower house of the wisconsin legislature in , and served as assemblyman continuously from to , and for the years and . during the sessions of and he was speaker of the assembly. a portion of this time he held the responsible position of regent of the state university, and was also a special agent of the treasury department. in president grant appointed him chief justice of dakota, which honor was declined. the same year he was appointed fifth auditor in the treasury department, which office he resigned in to take a more active part in advancing the interests of his state. he was chosen a presidential elector in , and again in , and served as state senator during the sessions of , and , and was at one time president _pro tem_. of the senate. in he was elected judge of the eleventh judicial circuit. during his service as judge he was highly gratified that so few appeals were taken from his decisions, and that his decisions were seldom reversed in higher courts. he had also held the offices of postmaster, county attorney, county judge, and county superintendent of schools. although formerly a democrat, at the outbreak of the rebellion he became a republican. of late years he was a pronounced stalwart. throughout his life he never received any profit, pecuniarily, from the prominent positions in which he was placed, his only endeavor seeming to be to advance the interests, influence, worth and ability of the younger men with whom he was associated, and hundreds who to-day hold positions of prominence and responsibility, owe their success and advancement to his teachings and advice. of a disposition kind, courteous and generous, he was possessed of a remarkably retentive memory, which, with his intimate associations with leading men, and familiarity with public life, legislative and judicial, afforded a fund of personal sketches, anecdotes and biographies, at once entertaining, amusing and instructive. the judge was twice married, his first wife having died at waukesha, leaving him an only son, henry h. barron, who was with him at the time of his death. his second marriage was to ellen k. kellogg, at pepin, in . for some time she has made her home with her mother in california, on account of ill health. at the time of his death, which occurred at st. croix falls, jan. , , he was judge of the eleventh judicial circuit. his remains were buried at waukesha. george w. brownell.--mr. brownell, though not among the earliest of the pioneers of st. croix valley, yet deserves special mention on account of his scientific attainments, his high character as a man, and the fact that he was an influential member, from the st. croix district, of the wisconsin territorial constitutional convention, he having been elected over bowron on the question of establishing the new state line east of the st. croix. mr. brownell was born in onondago, new york, and when a youth lived in syracuse, where he learned the trade of a carriage maker. he was a resident of galena, illinois, over thirty years, where he engaged in mining and geological pursuits. he spent two years in the lead mines of wisconsin. he was connected with the galena _gazette_ some years. in he visited the superior copper mining region for a boston company. he formed the acquaintance of caleb cushing, rufus choate, horace rantoul, and others, and located for them mineral permits at st. croix falls and kettle river, and became, this year, a resident of st. croix falls. in he was married to mrs. duncan, of galena. he was elected this year to the constitutional convention. in he returned to galena and engaged in the grain trade and cotton planting near vicksburg, mississippi, in which he was not successful. in he visited colorado and made investments there. when on a trip to colorado, in , the stage was attacked by indians. brownell and another passenger alighted to resist the attack. he was armed with a rifle, and, if properly supported, would probably have been saved; but most of the passengers remained in the stage. the driver, getting scared, whipped his horses and drove rapidly away, leaving brownell and companion, who were overpowered and killed. their bodies were recovered, shockingly mutilated. his remains were forwarded to galena for burial. mr. brownell had a scientific mind, and passed much of his life in scientific studies and practical experiments. he attained a good knowledge of geology, mineralogy and chemistry. the foresight of mr. brownell on the wisconsin boundary, and in other public matters, has been, in time, generally recognized. he was a good neighbor and kind friend. col. robert c. murphy.--col. murphy, a man of fine address and admirable social qualities, made his home at st. croix falls in - and , during which time he was in charge of the cushing interest and property, which position he left to accept the colonelcy of the eighth wisconsin volunteer infantry. his military career was not fortunate and its abrupt termination was a sad disappointment to himself and friends. an article in the milwaukee _weekly telegraph_, from the pen of one who knew col. murphy well, thus sums up some of the salient points in his character and career. we make a few extracts: "col. murphy was educated and accomplished. he had been instructed in the patridge military school, and was possessed of some experience in indian fights on the plains with burnside, bearing scars of that experience, and a recommendation of skill and courage from gen. burnside to gov. randall. his great intuitiveness, his ready manner, his cultivation of mind, gained for him the respect and charity of his superiors, and brought him the respect and confidence of his regiment. his father, a native of ireland, was a successful practicing lawyer and politician in ohio, without much education; a man of strong natural talent and integrity. upon his son he showered all his earnings, in the form of that which the father lacked the most--books, schooling and polish. judge murphy (the father) was the bearer of important dispatches to texas from the tyler and polk administrations in connection with the annexation of that republic to this country, and is referred to in benton's 'thirty years' as tyler's 'midnight messenger.' young murphy was appointed by president pierce american consul in china, while gen. caleb cushing was minister to that country, and he discharged important consular and judicial duties there with credit to himself and his government. upon his return gen. cushing selected him to take charge of the cushing interest and property at st. croix falls, in this state. from there he went 'to the front,' and his military career was cut short by his failure at iuka and holly springs. gen. grant dismissed him in brief, terse words, but was willing afterward that he should be heard by a board of army officers detailed for that purpose. stanton was inexorable and refused." after his dismissal from the army he removed to washington and accepted a clerkship in the post office department where he still remains. it is due to him to say that his own version of his military troubles is ingenious and plausible, and would, if sustained, quite exonerate him from the charges that have pressed so heavily upon him. edward worth.--mr. worth came to st. croix falls from new york state in , where he continued to reside the remainder of his life, experiencing the vicissitudes of pioneer life to their fullest extent. he died in , leaving a widow, an only son (henry) and two daughters, myra, wife of w. t. vincent, and sarah, wife of john blanding. mrs. mary c. worth.--mrs. worth was born oct. , , was married to edward worth, dec. , , and came to st. croix falls in , where she lived till jan. , , when she peacefully passed away. she was a woman of rare mental ability, untiring industry and skill in managing her household affairs, and unquestioned courage, as many incidents in her st. croix experience will evidence. she was a member of the episcopal church and went to her grave with the respect and admiration of all who knew her. maurice mordecai samuels, better known as capt. samuels, was born in london, of jewish parentage. it is not known exactly when he came to this country. i first met him in , at prairie du chien, at which time he was a traveling peddler. in i found him in the chippewa country, living with an indian woman and trading with the indians at the mouth of sunrise river. in he established a ball alley and trading post at st. croix falls, where he lived until , when he raised a company (the st. croix rifles) for the united states service, received a commission and served till the close of the war. after the war he became a citizen of new orleans, and in changed his residence to winfield, kansas. while in st. croix he reared a family of half-breed children. he was a shrewd man and an inveterate dealer in indian whisky. capt. samuels was sent as a government agent to the chippewas of st. croix valley and the southern shore of lake superior, in , to ascertain and report their sentiment in regard to the sioux war. it may be said of capt. samuels that, however unprincipled he may have been, he was no dissembler, but outspoken in his sentiments, however repellant they may have been to the moral sense of the community. he died at winfield, kansas, in . joseph b. churchill was born in new york in ; was married in new york to eliza turnbull, and came to st. croix falls in . he has filled various offices creditably, and has the respect and confidence of his acquaintances. his oldest daughter is the wife of phineas g. lacy, of hudson. his second daughter is the wife of joseph rogers. he has one son living. john mclean.--mr. mclean was born , in vermont; was married in to sarah turnbull and settled on his farm near st. croix falls in . through untiring industry and honorable dealing he has secured a sufficiency for life, a handsome farm and good buildings. a large family has grown up around him, and have settled in the county. gilman jewell came from new hampshire; was married in new hampshire and came to the west in . he settled on a farm near st. croix falls. he died in . mrs. jewell died january, . one son, philip, resides on the homestead. ezra, another son, resides at the falls. the other members of the family have moved elsewhere. elisha creech was born in west virginia, . he came to st. croix falls in , and was married to mary m. seeds in . they have four children. mr. creech has been engaged much of his life in lumbering. through industry and temperate habits he has made a good farm and a pleasant home. james w. mcglothlin was born in kentucky; came to st. croix falls in , and engaged successfully in sawing lumber at the st. croix mill in and , but in rented the mill, being sustained by waples & co., of dubuque, iowa, but by reason of bad management, he failed and left the valley in . he afterward went to california, where he met a tragic fate, having been murdered by his teamster. andrew l. tuttle.--mr. tuttle came to st. croix falls in , and was engaged many years as a lumberman and as keeper of a boardinghouse. he settled on his farm at big rock in , where he made himself a comfortable home. he went to montana in , and died there in . mrs. tuttle still resides at the homestead, an amiable woman, who has acted well her part in life. one of her daughters is married to wm. m. blanding. one son, eli, died in , another son, henry, died in montana. perly, john and warren are settled near the homestead. john weymouth was born at clinton, maine, in , and came to st. croix falls in , where he followed lumbering and made himself a beautiful home on the high hill overlooking the two villages of st. croix falls and taylor's falls. by frugality and industry mr. weymouth has accumulated a competence. he was married in st. croix falls in , to mary mchugh. one son, john, is married to miss ramsey, of osceola, and a daughter, mary j., is married to samuel harvey, of st. croix falls. b. w. reynolds, a tall, thin, stoop-shouldered man of eccentric manners, was receiver at the st. croix land office from to . he was a native of south carolina, and a graduate of middlebury college, vermont. he had studied for the ministry, and, if we mistake not, had devoted some years of his life to pastoral work, but devoted later years to secular pursuits. at the close of the war he returned to south carolina as a reconstructionist, but in two or three years came north, and located at la crosse, wisconsin, where he edited the la crosse _star_. he died at la crosse aug. , . augustus gaylord.--mr. gaylord was a merchant in st. croix falls prior to the rebellion. in gov. harvey appointed him adjutant general of the state. in this office he acquitted himself well. he was an efficient public officer and in private life a high minded, honorable gentleman. james d. reymert.--mr. reymert was born in norway in , and came to america and settled in racine in . he was a practical printer, and editor of the first norwegian paper west of the lakes, if not the first in america, and was a man of recognized literary ability. he was a member of the second wisconsin constitutional convention, , from racine. in he was a member of the wisconsin assembly. he came to st. croix falls in , and served two years as agent of the st. croix falls company. he was the organizer of a company in new york city, known as "the great european-american land company," in which count taub, of norway, took an active part. this noted company claimed to have purchased the cushing property, a claim true only so far as the preliminary steps of a purchase were concerned. for a time there was considerable activity. the town of st. croix falls was resurveyed, new streets were opened, and magnificent improvements planned, but failing to consummate the purchase, the company failed, leaving a beggarly account of unpaid debts. william j. vincent.--mr. vincent is of irish descent. he was born june , , and came west when a youth. in , at the age of sixteen, he enlisted in company h, mounted rifles, and served through the mexican war. in he came to st. croix falls, where he followed lumbering and clerking. he was married to myra worth in . in he enlisted in company f, first wisconsin volunteer infantry, of which company he was appointed second lieutenant. he resigned in . he has held the office of county commissioner eleven years, that of county clerk seven years, that of state timber agent four years. in he served as representative in the wisconsin assembly. in he commenced selling goods with his son-in-law, under the firm name of vincent & stevenson. he erected the first brick store building in st. croix falls in . thompson brothers.--thomas thompson was born in lower canada, nov. , , and was married to eliza clendenning in . james thompson was born in lower canada, nov. , , and was married to mary a. gray in . the brothers came to the falls in and engaged in lumbering about ten years, and then in merchandising, jointly, but in formed separate firms. thomas built the first brick dwelling house in st. croix in . mrs. thomas thompson died in . james erected a large flour mill in . william amery was born in london, england, in . he learned the carpenter's trade in london and came to america in , locating at first in stillwater, but the ensuing year removing to st. croix falls. he pre-empted the southeast quarter of the southwest quarter of section , township , range , and adjoining lands in , and this has been his continuous home since. he has served as county treasurer four years and held many town offices. he was married to sarah hackett in . the town of amery is named in honor of this respected man. mr. amery died sept. , , leaving a widow, two sons and three daughters. lewis barlow.--among the first immigrants to st. croix falls was lewis barlow, an eccentric, sensitive man. he was a millwright, and, being of an unhappy disposition, led a troubled life. he was the first man married at the falls. in he moved to the minnesota side, where he owned considerable land. he lived here until when his family left him. he sold his interests and followed and reunited them at rock island, illinois. here he suffered much and became blind. he traveled with a panorama and so earned a scanty livelihood. in later life he revisited his old home at the falls, but broken and dejected in spirit. he died at rock island in . levi w. stratton.--mr. stratton was one of the passengers of the palmyra in . he worked for the st. croix company two years. after leaving the falls, he changed his residence several times, and finally settled at excelsior, hennepin county, minnesota, where he died in . mr. stratton wrote for the minneapolis papers many interesting reminiscences of pioneer life on the st. croix. elma m. blanding.--mr. blanding was born in harford, susquehanna county, new york, feb. , . he was married to eliza tuttle in . he settled on a farm near st. croix falls in , where he died, sept. , . father blanding, as he was affectionately called in the later years of his life, was a man of exemplary habits, of strong religious convictions, and a consistent member of the presbyterian church. he left a widow, five sons and three daughters. mrs. eliza blanding died jan. , . wm. m. blanding, the oldest son, owns a fine farm near the falls, formerly known as "jerusalem." he is a surveyor, lumberman and farmer, and a prominent citizen. he was married to eliza tuttle. a family of thirteen children has grown up around him. in he was appointed receiver in the st. croix land office. john, the second son, is also a farmer in st. croix falls. he was married to sarah, daughter of edward and mary c. worth. eugene e. is engaged in the drug business at taylors falls, and is also surveyor and express agent. he married joanna ring, of taylors falls, in . fred, the fourth son, was married in to emma sly. he was appointed united states land receiver at st. croix falls in . he died in california, jan. , . frank, the youngest son, was married to annie mccourt, and lives on the homestead. josephine, the oldest daughter, is the wife of wm. longfellow, and resides in machias, maine. flavilla, the widow of charles b. whiting, lives at st. paul, minnesota. her husband died in . mrs. whiting was executrix of the will of dr. e. d. whiting, and successfully controlled a property valued at about $ , . mary, wife of wm. mccourt, died in . [illustration: william m. blanding.] frederick k. bartlett was a native of new england. he came to st. croix falls in , as attorney and land agent for caleb cushing. he was candidate for judge of the district court in , but was defeated. he subsequently settled in stillwater, and later in hudson, where he died in , leaving a wife and one son, who became a civil engineer and died in st. paul in , and one daughter, helen, who achieved some reputation as a writer for periodicals. michael field was born june , . he came from a new england family, his father and mother having resided in connecticut. in early life he removed to new york and resided awhile at rochester. he engaged principally in transportation business. the earliest work he ever did was on the erie canal. he was married in to miss reynolds, who died in . his children are capt. silas wright field (mortally wounded at shiloh), norton, a resident of racine, wisconsin, mrs. fanny nason, wife of hon. joel f. nason, phebe and mary, unmarried and resident in brooklyn. mr. field was married to his second wife, mrs. harriet lee bracken, in . he was appointed register of the land office at st. croix falls by president lincoln in , and served twenty-six years. though over eighty years of age he retains his faculties and general health, and his mind is a store house of the early history of the country. alden. the town of alden embraces township , range , and twenty-four sections of range . it has both prairie and timber land, and is abundantly supplied with water. apple river traverses it from northeast to southwest. there are many tributary small streams, and a large number of small lakes, of which cedar lake is the largest. this lies only partially in alden. the surface is gently undulating. the town of alden was organized in . the first board of supervisors were stephen williams, william folsom and h. sawyer. the first post office was established at wagon landing in , v. m. babcock, postmaster. the first settlers were wm. folsom, v. m. babcock, v. b. kittel, i. l. bridgman, charles vassau, jr., and humphrey sawyer, in . mr. bridgman raised the first crops in . the first marriage was c. vassau to alma kittel, in , by rev. a. burton peabody. the first white child born in alden was p. b. peabody, july , . the first death was that of a child, nicholas w. gordon, june , . alden has two post towns, little falls and alden. rev. a. burton peabody was born may , , in andover, windsor county, vermont. he was the youngest of four minor children, and was left fatherless at eight years of age, and motherless at fifteen. he obtained a good english education in the common schools, and at chester and black river academies. the winter terms he spent in teaching. in he came to janesville, wisconsin, where he spent two years, partly on a farm and partly in a law office, as a student and clerk. in he went to iowa county, and taught school through the winter at mineral point. the next year he went to clarence, green county, wisconsin, where he spent four years in teaching. in he entered the nashotah theological seminary, where he completed the course, and was ordained deacon in the protestant episcopal church, june , , by the rev. bishop kemper, and took temporary charge of grace church, sheboygan. he was married to charity esther kittel, sept. , , at clarence, by the rev. wm. ruger. in november of the same year he removed to mississippi, spending the winter at jackson. in february he went to middleton, mississippi, to take charge of a mission work, including several appointments. he came, the june following, to polk county, wisconsin, and spent the summer at wagon landing, on apple river, where his wife's friends had made a settlement, but in the winter returned to his mission work in the south, and there remained until . owing to the troubled political condition of the south, he did not deem it advisable to remove his family thither, and so returned to wagon landing and obtained mission work, visiting at intervals foster's mills, now new richmond, huntington, cedar valley, and st. croix falls. the intervening country was, much of it, an unbroken wilderness, and he was obliged to make his journeys not infrequently on foot, to cross the swollen streams and dare all the perils of the winter storm. in mr. peabody accepted a call to the rectorship of st. paul's church, plymouth, sheboygan county, but in returned to the valley of the st. croix, and settled on a farm, undertaking meanwhile ministerial work at prescott and other points, in a line extending as far north as st. croix falls. three years later prescott and river falls were made independent, another man taking charge. in mr. peabody undertook additional work on the north wisconsin railroad, including a large number of places, to be visited monthly. in his railroad work was limited to clayton, cumberland and hayward. he still has charge, as rector, of star prairie and wagon landing. few men have led more laborious lives or been more useful in their calling. he has witnessed the erection of eight churches on the field in which he labored, though concerned directly in the building of only four. mr. peabody's family consists of seven sons and seven daughters. one of the latter died in infancy. v. m. babcock settled at wagon landing, town of alden, in . he was born in rensselaer county, new york; married his first wife in new york and his second wife at somerset, st. croix county, wisconsin. they have four children. he has held town offices ever since the organization of the town. he has been sheriff, and was county superintendent of schools for seven years. apple river. the town of apple river includes township , range , and derives its name from its principal river. the town is well watered by apple river and its tributaries, and it also has numerous lakes, the most considerable of which is white ash lake. the surface of the town is gently undulating, and was originally covered with pine, interspersed with hardwood groves. there is good wheat soil, and natural meadows are found in some parts. the town was organized jan. , , having been set off from balsam lake. there are two post offices, apple river on the west, and shiloh on the east town line. balsam lake. the town of balsam lake embraces township , range , and takes its name from a lake within its bounds. it has an undulating surface, covered with heavy oak, pine, and maple timber principally. balsam creek, the outlet of balsam lake, flows through it in a southerly direction, affording fine water powers. about one-sixth of the surface is covered with lakes. the largest of these, balsam lake, in the indian language an-in-on-duc-a-gon, or evergreen place, gives name to the town. deer, long, wild goose, and mud lakes are fine bodies of water with bold, timbered shores, and abundance of fish. the town is near the geographical centre of the county. the first white man, prior to the organization of the town, to locate within its present bounds was a disreputable trader named miller, who in built a shanty on balsam lake, from which he dispensed whisky to the indians. this man was not long afterward driven out of the country. (see history of st. croix falls.) the town was organized in . the first board of supervisors consisted of geo. p. anderson, wright haskins, and joseph loveless. the clerk was h. j. fall; the treasurer, f. r. loveless. the first school was taught by jane husband. aaron m. chase built a shingle mill at the outlet of balsam lake in , and he seems to have been the first actual settler or the first man to make improvements. as he had neither oxen nor horses, the timbers for the mill were hauled by man power with the aid of yokes and ropes. other persons came to the mill and lived there awhile, but the first permanent settlers came in in . they were j. shepherd, joseph loveless, joseph ravett, and john m. rogers. mr. rogers raised the first crops in the town; joseph ravett was the first postmaster. the first marriage was that of j. k. adams to miss l. a. millerman, by w. h. skinner. the first white child born was a daughter to r. s. haskins. the first death, that of a child, occurred in . a first class flouring mill has been erected at the outlet of balsam lake. it is owned by herman corning; a saw mill is also in operation at this point. a methodist church, × feet ground plan, was erected at balsam lake by the methodist society in . beaver. the town of beaver includes township , range . it was set off from apple river and organized nov. , . the name was suggested as being appropriate from the work of the beaver in past ages. beaver dams are numerous on all the creeks. these ancient works will mostly disappear with the progress of agriculture. the town is drained by streams flowing into apple river. horseshoe lake, in the northeast corner, is three miles in length. black brook. the town of black brook includes township , range . apple river, with its tributaries, supplies it with abundant water privileges. black brook, the principal tributary, gives the town its name, and drains the southern portion. there are many small lakes. the surface is undulating and most of the soil good. the post office of black brook is in section . the north wisconsin railroad passes through sections , and . this town was originally a part of alden, but was organized and set off as a new town aug. , . j. c. nelson and g. h. goodrich were the first supervisors. the first settlers ( ) were john gorsuch, john reed and jacob polwer; the first postmaster was ---- gates; the first school teacher, tina starkweather; the first marriage that of s. d. starkweather and mary danforth; the first death that of mrs. ben gilman. clam falls. clam falls comprises township , range , and derives its name from the falls on clam river. the surface is rolling and timbered with hardwood and pine. it is well watered by south clam creek and its tributaries. somers' lake, in section , is the only lake. an upheaval of trap rock on clam creek has caused the waterfall from which the town has taken its name. it is a fine water power. a dam for collecting tolls on saw logs has been placed just above the falls. good specimens of copper ore are found in the trap. the town was set off from luck and organized nov. , . the first town meeting was held april, . the first supervisors were daniel f. smith, john almquist and john bjornson. d. f. smith was the first settler, built the first saw mill, and raised the first crops. daniel f. smith, a peculiar and eccentric man, was born in chautauqua county, new york, in ; emigrated to michigan in , where he married eliza green the following year, and moved to racine county, wisconsin. in he engaged in lumbering on the wisconsin river, his home being at stevens point. he was of the firms of smith & bloomer and smith & fellows. mr. bloomer was accidentally killed, on which account the business of these firms was closed, mr. smith removing to galena to facilitate the settlement of their affairs. in he removed to st. louis; in to memphis, tennessee, where he engaged in the wholesale grocery business, losing heavily, in fact all the accumulations of his life. in the spring of he leased the st. croix falls saw mill, and operated it for two years, when trouble arose and litigation ensued, in which smith obtained a judgment against cushing for $ , . in he removed to clinton, iowa, and thence in the same year to california. he traveled much, visiting mines. he spent some time in mining, and also manufactured shingles. in he returned to st. croix falls and engaged in lumbering for three years. in he built a saw mill at butternut lake, wisconsin. he did much to open that country to settlement. he was the founder of a town which he called "luck." in he was the first settler at clam falls, where he built a saw mill with but one man to assist, and around that mill has sprung up a flourishing settlement. dan smith, with undaunted perseverance, has battled his way through life, and has come out victorious over difficulties and opposition that would have discouraged and turned back other men. mr. smith is a plain, direct, outspoken man; a man of energy and ability. he has ably and satisfactorily filled many places of trust. for many years he has been a commissioner of polk county. clayton. clayton includes township , range . the town was set off from black brook. the surface of a great part of the town is level and was originally marshy, but these marshes have been gradually drained, and fine farms and hay meadows have taken their place. the town was organized nov. , . the first supervisors were morris de'golier, worthy prentice and h. d. west. the first homestead entries were made in by peter bouchea and john mckay, a frenchman, both indian traders, who established a post at marsh lake, but in six months abandoned it and never returned. the next settlers were vandyke, morehouse and tanner, near the west line of the town, about . the first improvements were made by elam greely in , who dug a canal into marsh lake to get water to float logs out of beaver brook, thereby draining great tracts of swamp land. the laying of the north wisconsin railroad track gave a fresh impetus to business, and conduced greatly to the building of the village of clayton in section . the first sermon in the town of clayton was preached by rev. w. w. ames, a baptist; the first school was taught by s. m. de'golier; the first store was opened by a. m. wilcox, . d. a. humbird was the first postmaster. the north wisconsin railway passes through the southeast part and the minneapolis, soo & atlantic passes from the west side to the northeast corner of the town, and has a station, gregory, in the west part. reuben f. little was born june , , in topsham, devonshire county, england. at ten years of age he began to care for himself, working for sixpence per week, carrying pottery in a moulding house. before leaving england his wages had increased to three shillings per week. in the spring of he had saved three pounds sterling, and his grandfather gave him two pounds sterling. this five pounds paid his passage to quebec and montreal, where he got four dollars per month. soon after he apprenticed himself for five years to learn the baker's and confectioner's trade at london, upper canada. subsequently he took a homestead from the british government at trading lake, upper canada. [illustration: reuben f. little.] in the spring of , at detroit, michigan, he enlisted in the united states infantry, regular army, and was promoted successively to first sergeant, to sergeant major, to second lieutenant, to first lieutenant. he resigned in september, . during the war he served continuously in gen. george h. thomas' division, and took part in all the engagements under him, from miles springs, kentucky, to nashville, tennessee. on the twenty-second of september, , mr. little had the honor of being the last man to leave the rossville gap in front of chattanooga after the disastrous fight of chickamauga. he was wounded in the battle of hoover's gap and smyrna, and at the siege of corinth. mr. little was married in , and divorced in , and re-married in st. paul in . he lost his canada homestead, and took another homestead in lincoln, polk county, wisconsin, in . afterward he went to st. paul and became one of the firm of little & berrisford in the wholesale confectionery business. in he returned to clayton, formerly part of lincoln, and reclaimed a swamp of over six hundred acres, making it a productive meadow and tillage farm. mr. little has served several years as clayton's town supervisor. clear lake. clear lake embraces township , range . it derives its name from a beautiful clear lake on the western boundary near clear lake village. the west part of the town is timbered principally with hardwood, and is good farming land. the eastern part is more diversified, and there are some large groves of pine. willow river runs through the town. the north wisconsin railroad traverses the town diagonally from northeast to southwest: the town was organized june , ; s. d. mann, j. c. gates, and w. r. ingalls, supervisors. the first settlers were john hale, l. p. nash, s. d. starkweather, and perry clark. lawrence o'connor was first postmaster; mr. starkweather carried the mail on foot. israel graves, in , built the first saw mill in clear lake village and the first house. there is now at the village a stave mill owned by symme & co. jewett bros. own a saw mill on willow river, three miles from the village, which has a capacity of , , feet. the lumber is delivered to the railway at the village by a wooden tramway. the lots for the village were purchased from the government by a. boody and a. coventry, in . the plat was made by symme, glover & co. the survey was made by g. w. cooley. thomas t. mcgee was the first settler ( ), and stephen h. whitcomb the second. the first school house was built in , and the first school was taught by clara davis in the same year. the village has now a good graded school with three departments, charles irle, principal. its two church buildings, congregational and methodist, were destroyed by the cyclone of , but are being rebuilt. the swedish lutherans have a church a mile from the village. chas. decker was the first postmaster; a. symme & co. were the first merchants; p. gates, m.d., the first practicing physician; f. m. nye the first lawyer. the first marriage was that of john c. gates and ella scovill. the first birth was chas. w. whitcomb, and the first death that of a child of hans johnson. pineville. the town of pineville, a railroad station and village in section , is a lumbering centre. the pineville lumbering company have here a saw mill with a capacity of , , feet. the logs are brought on wooden railways three to ten miles. p. b. lacy & co., of hudson, are the proprietors. frank m. nye was born in shirley, piscataquis county, maine, in . his parents removed to wisconsin in . he was educated at the common schools and at river falls academy. he came to clear lake in , and was elected district attorney for polk county in , and representative in the wisconsin assembly in . he removed to minneapolis in . eureka. eureka embraces township , range and a fractional part of range . the west part is somewhat broken by the st. croix bluffs; the remainder is undulating and capable of agricultural improvement. there are many good farms in this town. there are a few small lakes in the eastern part. eureka was set off from st. croix falls, and organized dec. , . the first supervisors were lucius a. harper, jens welling and william booth. the first settlers were l. a. harper, john c. beede, henry cole and others. there are three post offices in the town,--harper, cushing and north valley. at the mouth of wolf creek, in the extreme northwestern section of this town, j. r. brown had a trading house in the ' s, and louis roberts in the ' s. at this place alex. livingston, another trader, was killed by indians in . livingston had built him a comfortable home, which he made a stopping place for the weary traveler, whom he fed on wild rice, maple sugar, venison, bear meat, muskrats, wild fowl and flour bread, all decently prepared by his indian wife. mr. livingston was killed by an indian in . in carma p. garlick surveyed a quarter section here and laid it off into town lots, and had lithograph maps published, calling the prospective village sebatanna, an indian town signifying "water village." charles nevers settled here about , and has now a fine farm and good buildings. farmington. farmington was organized as a town in . it contains forty-two sections of land, in township , ranges and , with some fractions of sections on the st. croix. it is a rich agricultural town, well diversified with prairie and timber land. its western portion, along the st. croix, has the picturesque bluffs common to that river, with some unusually beautiful cascades and hillside springs, of which the most notable are the well known mineral spring and the springs at the lime kiln. the mineral spring is situated on the st. croix river, at the base of the bluff, and about one mile and a half below osceola mills. a beautiful hotel was built in on the cliff above, at a cost of about $ , , which became quite a popular place of resort until , when it was burned. it has not been rebuilt. the property was improved by currant & stevens, but afterward sold. the following analysis shows the chemical constituents of a gallon of the water of the spring: grains. chloride of sodium . sulphate of soda . bicarbonate of soda . bicarbonate of lime . bicarbonate of magnesia . iron and alumina . silica . organic matter a trace ------- total , south farmington corners has a prosperous cheese factory, owned and operated by koch brothers, erected in , turning out in sixteen tons of cheese and in over twenty tons. south farmington has a catholic church building. the first crops in farmington were raised by wm. kent on a farm near osceola in , and the same year harmon crandall and richard arnold improved land and raised crops not far from the present village of farmington. here, owing to the sandy nature of the soil, well digging proved rather perilous to the two farmers. mr. arnold attempted to dig a well in a depression, a sinkhole, in the prairie. as he dug deeper the sides of the well caved in, almost burying him. he managed by his own utmost exertions and those of his friend crandall to escape, but left his boots deeply imbedded in prairie soil. in the soo railroad company bridged the st. croix, at the cedar bend at the south point of the leaning cedars, and extended their grade along the base of the precipice overlooking the river above, and commanding an extensive view of bold, picturesque and beautiful scenery. biographical. harmon crandall.--the crandall family were the first to settle in osceola prairie, in the town of farmington. mr. crandall moved to his farm in , and lived there many years; sold out and removed to hudson, where, in later life, he became blind. he had three sons born in farmington. in he moved to shell lake, washburn county, where he died, aug. , . mrs. crandall died may , . samuel wall.--mr. wall was born in , in shropshire, england; went as a british soldier to the west indies in ; two years later came to new york city; one year later to st. louis; in to st. paul and in to the st. croix valley, where he made a permanent home at the lime kiln, which he bought of william willim. he was married to anna maria moore in . they had been educated as episcopalians, but are now catholics and have educated their children in that faith in the schools at st. paul. mr. wall served five years in the british army for thirteen pence a day, but west india rum was cheap, only ten pence per gallon, and this, mr. wall pathetically remarked, "was an unfortunate element for the lime-kiln man." after twenty-six years of struggle mr. wall came out victorious and now strongly advises all young men to "touch not, taste not, handle not," anything that can intoxicate. the writer trusts he may stand firm. william ramsey was born in ireland in , and came to america with his parents in his youth, first settling in nova scotia. in he came to washington county, maine. in he was married to sarah stevens, at crawford, maine. in he went to california. in he returned, and located on his farm in farmington, polk county, where he still resides, an efficient citizen, who has borne his full part in the organization of town and county, and filled various offices. hiram w. nason.--mr. nason was born in waterville, maine, in . when of age he settled in crawford, maine. in he was married. he came to polk county, and settled in farmington in . mr. nason died in . mrs. nason died some years later. they were members of the baptist church. their children are joel f., levi, merrill, crocker, albert, james, maria, wife of thos. ford, of farmington, and frances, wife of moses peaselee, of farmington. mr. ford died in . he was a well to do farmer. mr. peaselee, also a farmer, has served as sheriff of polk county. joel f. nason.--mr. nason was born aug. , , in washington county, maine. he was married to bertha hanscomb, of crawford, maine, in july, . their children are everett, fred, louisa, wife of albert thompson, and bertha. mrs. nason died in . mr. nason was married to mary ann godfrey, of osceola, in . mrs. nason died february, . he was married to miss fanny field, of st. croix falls, in . mr. nason settled in farmington in . he engaged in lumbering many years, and was called by his fellow citizens to fill several important offices. he served eight years as county clerk. he was appointed receiver of the united states land office at st. croix falls in , which office he resigned in , when he was elected state senator. john mcadams was born in tennessee in . he was employed for many years on the louisville (ky.) canal. he was married to eliza robinson in . mrs. mcadams died in , leaving one son, melville, born , who came with his father to the st. croix valley in . he first located at osceola, but in removed to farmington, where he died in . mr. mcadams was a mineralogist of some ability. charles tea was born in pennsylvania in ; came into the st. croix valley in ; was married in to mary mcadams, sister of john mcadams, and in the same year settled on a farm in farmington. in he removed to southern iowa. garfield. garfield includes thirty sections of range , and six sections of range , township . it is well watered and has many small lakes, while sucker lake, a lake of considerable size, is about equally divided between its own territory and that of lincoln. garfield was organized in . the first supervisors were abraham sylvester, james t. montgomery and martin hanson. in the minneapolis, soo & atlantic railway built through the town from west to southeast and established one station, deronda, in the southeast corner of the town. the post office of el salem is in garfield. georgetown. georgetown comprises township , ranges and . this town is abundantly supplied with water by apple river and its tributaries, and numerous lakes, some of them of considerable size. the largest are bone, blake, powder and pipe. the timber is hardwood and pine intermingled. immense quantities of pine have been taken from this town, and still much remains. wild meadows are plentiful. georgetown was set off from milltown and organized nov. , . the first supervisors were david h. smith, elisha e. drake and august larbell. george p. anderson was the first settler ( ), and his christian name was affixed to the town. the first school was taught in by john burns. a post office was established in at bunyan, g. p. anderson, postmaster. the first sermon was preached by rev. c. d. scott, a methodist. the first birth was that of lucy anderson; the first marriage that of henry king to etta clark. the first death was that of august larbell. two men murdered. oliver grover and harry knight, two prominent lumbermen of stillwater, on july , , were exploring for timber and hay on pipe lake, section , in georgetown. not returning to their camp, two miles distant, the watchman at the camp, after waiting two days, went to st. croix falls and gave the alarm. many parties went in pursuit of the lost men. some traces of their presence were discovered on the shore of this lake, but the search was finally abandoned. after some months the indians confessed that two of their young men shot the two men, disemboweled them, burned the entrails and sunk the bodies in the lake. their bodies were never found. we append the following newspaper clipping: "finale.--the friends of the two indians that shot grover and knight, last tuesday delivered to p. b. lacy, of st. croix falls, the valuables that were taken from the bodies of the murdered men. they consisted of $ in gold, $ . in greenbacks, $ in silver, one silver watch, one wallet and one pocket knife. this is probably the closing act of the bloody tragedy which cost two innocent men their lives at the hands of indians steeped in liquor, and who, fearing the vengeance of the white man, committed suicide." the two murderers had confessed the crime and shot themselves. george p. anderson.--mr. anderson was born in fulvana county, virginia, ; was educated in the common schools; lived in ohio eighteen and in indiana fifteen years, and came to balsam lake in . few men have been more active in the opening up of a new settlement. mr. anderson has been several times elected to office in the new county, and was a principal actor in the establishment of the polk county agricultural society in . he has a family of fifteen children living. laketown. laketown includes township , range . it is named from the lakes that dot almost every section in the town. trade lake, with its tributary from butternut lake, are the principal streams. the town was set off from sterling and organized april , . the first supervisors were l. bell; s. p. heard and n. fornell. the town was settled largely by swedes, norwegians, danes and alabamians. the latter settled in the northwestern part of the town. in caleb cushing bought the agricultural college lands in the town to the amount of , acres. the first school house was built in , in section . p. tierney taught the first school. lindsey mckee was the first settler. he was also the first to sell out and leave. daniel swensbarger, a german, bought him out, and a number of his countrymen settled near him. jacob swensbarger started a store. n. grondund built the first blacksmith shop. peter olsen built the first saw mill, at the foot of long lake, in . the first marriage was that of l. mckee and mary addington, by l. bell, esq. lincoln. lincoln includes township , range , and the eastern tier of sections of township , range . it is abundantly watered by apple river and its tributaries, and has numerous lakes of which sucker lake is the largest. the soil is well adapted to the culture of wheat. there are many fine farms in this township. the surface, originally covered with timber, is undulating. the town was organized in , being set off from osceola. the first town meeting was held april, . a. a. heald, m. c. lane and john hurness were the first supervisors. the post town is at lincoln centre. the polk county poor farm is pleasantly situated on a lake in lincoln, and has been well managed for a series of years by capt. wilkie. amery village is located on apple river, at the crossing of the "soo line" railway. it has two saw mills and a stave factory. the minneapolis, soo & atlantic railway passes through lincoln from southwest to east, and has a station at apple river crossing, named amery, in honor of william amery, one of polk county's best citizens. wm. wilson was born in , at armagh county, ireland. at four years of age he came to america with his parents, who located at canada west, where he learned the baker's trade. in he came to osceola and followed lumbering eight years. he was married at osceola to leah moody and located on his homestead in lincoln in . he has three sons. mr. wilson has been a useful citizen and has done his full share of pioneer work. loraine. loraine includes townships and , range . it is a heavily timbered district, with hardwood and pine interspersed. the surface is undulating and the soil is much of it good. it is well watered by south clam creek and tributaries, and has a multitude of small lakes. there are some fine farms in the northern part of the township. loraine was organized nov. , . the first town meeting was held april, . the first supervisors were, frank j. williams, george phelps and john klinch. wm. gallespie built the first hotel and opened it in . the first school was taught by georgia lacy. the first marriage was that of james lago and almeda johnson. the first white child was george phillips; the first death that of a child of j. l. ellis. the first settler was c. loraine ruggles. he was somewhat eccentric. he published a book embodying his own adventures during the rebellion, which he called "the great american spy." the town was named after him. n. b. bull and chas. anderson were the next settlers. wm. wallace gallespie was born in louisville, kentucky; lived in his youth in illinois and came to marine mills in . in he married cecilia m. ring, widow of charles turner, of taylor's falls. in he moved to his homestead in loraine, where he has a good farm and hotel. he has two sons and one daughter. luck. luck includes township , ranges and . it is a good agricultural region and contains already many valuable farms. the eastern half of the town was originally a rich pine wood region. much of the timber is yet standing. the town is well watered by upper trade and straight rivers and has many beautiful lakes, the principal of which are butternut and north. luck was organized as a town nov. , . the first supervisors were wm. h. foster, m. c. pederson and j. j. bille. the first settlers were wm. w. gallespie, w. h. foster and d. f. smith ( ). the first marriage was that of w. h. foster, and his oldest child was the first white child born in luck. wm. gallespie raised the first crops. d. f. smith built the first saw mill. w. h. foster was first postmaster. at present there are two post offices, one at the village of luck, the other at west denmark. laura jones taught the first school in luck. the town has been settled chiefly by danes, mostly direct from denmark. a danish high school was established in , k. noregaad, principal, at which different languages are taught. the building cost $ , . it is beautifully located on butternut lake. the lutherans have three flourishing church organizations in this town. william h. foster was born in bangor, maine, in ; came to st. croix valley in ; settled in luck in and engaged in farming and lumbering. he served in the army during the rebellion, and was postmaster at luck for eighteen years. his father, daniel foster, came with him to the st. croix valley in and died in . his native place was new hampshire. milltown. milltown includes township , range . it is a good agricultural and stock growing town. it is watered by the small streams flowing into balsam, half moon and other lakes. the timber is mostly hardwood. there is pine in the eastern part. the patterson post office is located in section , milltown in section . milltown was set off from st. croix falls dec. , . the first town meeting was held jan. , . the first supervisors were john lynch, m. fitzgerald, sr., and john hurley. the roman catholic church was organized here in . their new house of worship was built in . the first settlers were james and john rogers. the first school ( ) was taught by maggie crawford. the first school house was built in . a grange was organized in . the town has now a good brick school house and a saw and flour mill. patrick lillis was born in ireland in . he came to polk county in , and, with his amiable wife and enterprising sons, made a claim on what was afterward styled milltown, an inappropriate name, but given by mr. lillis himself, as he humorously remarked, "because there was not a stream large enough for a mill site in the town," and milltown it remains to this day. mr. lillis prospered and made himself a good home. he died feb. , . mrs. lillis died december, . they left six sons. john c. is in greene county, texas, simon c. is in southern california, and richard is in memphis, tennessee. henry, the youngest, aged twenty-nine years, has for the past six years been a resident of tacoma, washington territory. the residence of martin and james is not known. osceola. osceola contains all of township , range , except the eastern tier of sections, and ten whole sections and some fractions of range , made somewhat irregular by the st. croix river boundary, and the obtrusion of three sections of farmington in the southwestern part. it is a rich agricultural town, consisting chiefly of prairie, the whole forming a tableland, terminating westward on the precipitous bluffs of the st. croix. it has a good steamboat landing and two good water powers, osceola and close's creeks. these are both fine trout brooks. the bluffs overlooking the st. croix are bold and high, and, for a great part, precipitous. most conspicuous of these bluffs is the promontory known as eagle point, situated just below the osceola landing. an escarpment of limestone, about two hundred feet above the river, projects over its base, not much unlike the celebrated table rock at niagara falls. a tall and solitary pine tree stands upon the extreme verge of this rock, the whole forming a conspicuous landmark, visible to a distance of several miles down the river. the cascade on osceola creek, a few rods above its mouth, has scarcely a rival amongst the waterfalls of the west. it has sometimes been called the minnehaha of wisconsin, but while it resembles somewhat in the lower part of its descent that celebrated cascade, the scenery around it is much wilder, perpendicular rocks towering over it to a great height, while the upper part of the fall is over an inclined plain, broken into steps. it is a favorite haunt for artists and photographers. there are several minor waterfalls of great beauty in the vicinity. the trap rock formation crops out in the eastern and northern parts of the town, rich in specimens of copper and silver. silver is also found in ledges at east lake. the first land claim in the town, made may , , by milton v. nobles and lucius n. s. parker, included the cascade and the present site of the village. the claim was made with the intention of building a saw mill at the outlet of osceola creek. the mill company, organized in , consisted of m. v. and w. h. nobles, wm. kent, wm. o. mahony and harvey walker. mr. nobles sold his interest and removed to willow river; wm. parker removed to st. anthony. the mill commenced cutting timber in . it was run at first with a small flutter wheel, which was replaced by a an overshot wheel, feet; that by another, feet, and that by one feet in diameter. in the company built a two story boarding house, also a shop and office, near the mill. after the completion of the mill walker withdrew from the firm and anson northrup was for a short time a member. kent & mahony for a number of years operated the mill, selling lumber in galena and st. louis. mahony left for california in . around this mill, as a nucleus, the settlement of osceola and the village were built up. the mill, with its immense water wheel, for so many years a conspicuous object on the river, has long since disappeared. osceola has had many enterprising business men engaged in merchandising and manufacturing. the first flouring mill was built by kent brothers in , just above the cascade. this mill changed owners several times, and was burned in . it was rebuilt by lovejoy & sutton in . its present capacity is one hundred barrels per day. the second flouring mill was built by dresser & wilson in . it is situated on the same stream, a few rods above the first. it has also changed owners several times. its capacity is fifty barrels per day. the first merchants were wyckoff and stevenson, in . these have been succeeded by rice, webb, clark brothers, armstrong & co., talboys & staples, dresser & wilson, lacy & johnson, w. a. talboys, gridley & co., heald & thing, dresser brothers, and others. dr. gray was the first practicing physician. after him, at different periods, came drs. hilton, brooks, gaskill, garlick, marshall, searles, cornbacker and clark. the first deed recorded of osceola property was a quitclaim from wm. h. nobles to anson northrup, consideration $ , , in . the first lawyer settled here was i. p. freeland. his successors were button, dowling, dyke, mcdill, and others. the first sermon preached in osceola was by rev. lemuel nobles, a methodist minister, in . there are two church organizations; each has respectable church buildings. the first baptist preacher was rev. s. t. catlin, in . the baptists built the first church in the county in osceola, . the first log house in the town was built by richard arnold in the locality of the famous drake troutmere springs. this house was built in . mr. arnold raised the first crops in the town of osceola. the first school house was built in . a high school building was erected in . w. a. talboys taught the first public school in . until the schools were under the town system. in a free high school was established. the first post office was established in , and w. c. guild was postmaster for twenty years. the first town election was held april , , when the following supervisors were elected: wm. ramsey, chairman; nelson mccarty and w. c. guild. at this meeting the town voted a tax of thirty dollars for school and fifty dollars for town expenses. the first sunday-school was organized by w. a. talboys in . the first marriage, that of john buckley to elizabeth godfrey, was in . the first white child born was john francis, in . the first death was that of leroy hubble, by accident, in . change of name. the name of the town was originally leroy, in honor of mr. hubble above mentioned. it is to be regretted that this name was not retained, inasmuch as osceola, though the name of one of the most celebrated indians in american history, is shared by a post town in the eastern part of the state. it was therefore necessary to call this post town osceola mills, a distinction that correspondents and postmasters are not always careful to note. osceola village remained unorganized until aug. , . the first officers were: president, h. b. dyke; trustees, w. c. reilly, r. s. sutton, g. w. de long, h. e. cornbacker, paul filzen, s. c. benjamin; clerk, s. rowcliff; treasurer, c. w. staples; supervisor, g. d. mcdill; justice of the peace, george wilson; police justice, t. post. the village has a splendid situation upon the bluffs overlooking the river, and communicates with points on the river by boat, and with overland points by the minneapolis, soo & atlantic railway, completed to this place aug. , . there is also a branch road from dresser's station to st. croix falls. the village was visited by destructive fires at various times. most prominent of these was the burning of the freeland hotel in , the western hotel in , and the first flouring mill in . biographical. daniel mears.--mr. mears was born in lynn, massachusetts, in . his first wife, emeline mendon, died in , leaving three sons, charles, david, and daniel. in he was married to susan thompson. they have one daughter, lulu, now mrs. wheeler, of stillwater. mr. mears came west in , and sold goods one year at taylor's place (since taylor's falls). in he removed his store to st. croix falls, where he continued merchandising and lumbering until , when he went to willow river as agent in building the first saw mill in what is now hudson. in he made himself a permanent home on a farm near osceola. he served as state senator from the twenty-eighth district in - , and as state timber agent in - . as an officer mr. mears acquitted himself well. in politics he is a democrat, and while in the senate took an active part in debates. the oldest son, charles, is editor and proprietor of the _polk county press_. the three sons are married. nelson mccarty.--mr. mccarty was born july , , in pike county, pennsylvania; in was married to mary mckune, and came to st. croix valley in , where he engaged in piloting and lumbering. in he made him a farm on osceola prairie. he died in . his brother philip came to osceola in , and settled on osceola prairie. william o. mahony, a native of ireland, born about , came to america while he was yet a minor, and to st. croix falls in . he had learned the trade of a baker, but in became one of the proprietors of the saw mill at osceola, and sold his interest in . he was a man of original and eccentric mind. he went to california in , and died there in . richard arnold is of illinois birth. he came to osceola in , and moved to his farm near the village in . in he removed to taylor's falls and built the cascade house. in he was the first farmer in the town of amador, chisago county. in he left the valley for pike's peak, colorado. wm. kent sr., was born in scotland sometime in . he was married in scotland, and, with his wife and two eldest children, came to america in . he seems to have lived awhile in new brunswick, probably till or , when he removed to eddington, maine, whence he removed to the west and made his home at osceola in , where he and his wife died at an advanced age, honored by all who knew them. his family of six sons and five daughters all grew to mature age, and, except andrew, who located in farmington, had homes in osceola the daughters are anna, wife of curtis guild; agnes (deceased), wife of i. w. freeland; jane, wife of jerry mudget; mary (deceased), wife of chapin kimball; and eva, wife of henry c. goodwin. robert kent, oldest son of wm. kent, sr., was born in scotland in ; came to galena, illinois, in , and to osceola in , where he has filled many responsible public positions. his first wife, to whom he was married in galena in , died in , leaving four children. in mr. kent was married to susan babb, of osceola. andrew kent was born in scotland in . he was married in new brunswick in , but his wife died soon after. he came to osceola in and was married to esther hill, of osceola, in . mr. kent followed lumbering for many years but finally settled on a beautiful farm in farmington, where he still resides, an industrious, thrifty farmer. william kent, jr., was born in new brunswick in ; came to galena in and to st. croix falls in . he was one of the original owners and builders of the first mill at osceola. from time to time he purchased the interests of other partners until he became sole owner of mill and town site. in he sold the mill to b. h. campbell, of galena. mr. kent engaged in steamboating for many years and was a popular commander. he built the nellie kent, the helen mar and maggie reany. of late years he has been engaged in mercantile pursuits. he was married to nellie kidder in . they have no children. mr. kent is an influential member of the masonic order, and has filled many positions of public trust. james kent was born in frederickton, new brunswick, in ; came to wisconsin in ; and was married to mary jane wilson at osceola in . in he removed to ashland, wisconsin, where he died in , leaving a wife and five children. thomas kent was born in richmond, new brunswick, in . he came to osceola in and was married in to achsah hale. he was a practical lumberman and a very active man. he was accidentally killed in , while breaking a jam of logs in clam river. he left a wife and one child. john kent was born in eddington, maine, in . he came to wisconsin with his parents in . he was married to jennie kidder in . he was a house carpenter. lived in duluth some years but returned and settled in osceola. samuel close in made a land claim for a mill at the falls of close creek. shortly after he abandoned the claim and left the country, leaving his name to the creek and slough. ebenezer ayres came from maine to the st. croix valley in , and settled on a farm in osceola, where he made his home during the remainder of his active life. during his last years he became very feeble and partially insane, and his friends placed him in the asylum at madison, where he died, aug. , . his wife, familiarly known in later years as "mother ayres," and greatly esteemed for her excellence of character, died two years later. they reared a family of four sons and seven daughters. the sons charles, seth and andrew are farmers on typo for osceola prairie. warren, a fourth son, died in iowa. the daughters were married--elizabeth to ambrose sevey, ruth to walter carrier, mary (deceased) to frank s. eddy, sarah to e. r. st. clair, and to a second husband, h. h. newberry, all of taylor's falls; abigail to wm. e. doe, and to a second husband, the distinguished phrenologist, o. s. fowler, of new york; almena to ---- clough, of osceola prairie, and, after his decease, to wallace, of osceola; and emma to charles p. fenlason, of pipestone, minnesota. carmi p. garlick was born in erie county, pennsylvania, in ; was married in to elizabeth thompson, of ohio, and come to amador, chisago county, minnesota, in , where he built a saw mill. not succeeding as he had expected, he betook himself to farming and to the practice of medicine while in amador. in he removed to osceola, where he practiced medicine until he entered the united states service as surgeon during the war of the rebellion. he died at milwaukee, jan. , , while in the united states service. he was educated in columbus (ohio) medical college. he left a wife, one son (louis), and one daughter, wife of henry jones, of osceola. john s. godfrey was born in sackville, halifax county, nova scotia, dec. , ; was married to sarah wright, in stonnich, nova scotia, in ; came to easton, wisconsin, in , to taylor's falls in , and to their beautiful homestead in osceola in , where he still lives, respected and honored by all his neighbors as an honest, worthy and industrious man. he has sometimes engaged in lumbering, but his chief success has been as a farmer. mr. and mrs. godfrey are members of the baptist church. they have four sons and five daughters. of his sons, george died in . of his daughters, mary ann, wife of joel f. nason, died in . john, the youngest son, was married to mamie maxwell, and died january, . the daughters are married--elizabeth to john buckley, charlotte to s. b. dresser, eunice to george clark, and sarah to joseph a. brown. the two oldest sons are married--james to m. fenlason, arthur to mary j. daniel. william a. talboys was born in bristol, england; was married to mary rowcliff, in london, in ; came to america in , and to osceola in , where for some years he clerked for kent brothers. he taught the first school in osceola and served four years as county treasurer. he has held many positions of trust. for many years he has been engaged in lumbering and merchandising. in he built an elevator for handling wheat. mr. talboys and his wife are members of the methodist church. they have three children living. the oldest, w. e., is editor of the grantsburg _sentinel_, burnett county. frederic c. is in st. paul. adelaide e. was married to benj. knapp, captain of the steamboat cleon. her husband died in . charles h. staples.--mr. staples was born in portsmouth, new hampshire, in . in he came to bunker hill, illinois, and in the same year was married to hannah garland. he was engaged seven years in the milling business, and in came to osceola, where he engaged in lumbering, selling goods and medicines. he has filled several county offices. of their four children, charles w. was married to may foster, of osceola, in , eva is married to h. b. dyke, and frank to ella fiske. j. w. peake was born dec. , , in schoharie county, new york. at the age of twenty-one he settled near la salle, illinois, and kept a hotel. he came to osceola in , and settled on a farm. on july , , he enlisted in the tenth wisconsin battery, and served till the close of the war. he served several years as town supervisor and assessor. he died at his home, march , . george wilson was born in susquehanna county, pennsylvania, in . his privileges for education were good. he taught school in pennsylvania; came to osceola in ; followed clerking and teaching school; was nine years in flouring mill and merchandising; was two years register of deeds, and has filled minor offices. he was married to emma r. fiske in , at osceola. they have two sons and two daughters, one the wife of capt. george knapp. samuel b. dresser.--mr. dresser was born in buxton, maine, in . during his youth he lived with his parents, chiefly at bangor, where he received the rudiments of a good education in the common schools, and in kent seminary at readfield. he came to taylor's falls in , and followed lumbering and merchandising until , when he settled on his farm homestead on osceola prairie. mr. dresser was a member of the twenty-third wisconsin assembly. he was married to charlotte m. godfrey, june , . they have one daughter, helen a., and six sons, elma t., william a., lester b., wyman h., mark s., and frank e. frederic a. dresser, brother of samuel b., was born at moscow, maine, nov. , , came to taylor's falls, minnesota, in , and remained some years, when he removed to osceola. he served three years during the civil war in the thirtieth wisconsin infantry, and left the service with the rank of quartermaster. after the war he was married to mary e. thoms, of biddeford, maine. during his subsequent residence in osceola he engaged in mercantile pursuits, served as county treasurer four years and as register of deeds five years, which office he held at the time of his death which occurred oct. , . oscar a. clark came to taylor's falls in , settled on a farm in osceola in , and brought hither his parents from vermont, both of whom have since died. oscar was a surveyor. he engaged also in the lumbering and commercial business. he was of the firm of clark brothers. he enlisted in a wisconsin regiment during the rebellion, and served till mustered out, but never returned to his home, and as nothing has since been heard from him, his friends have concluded that he must have been murdered after his discharge, possibly on the way home. cornelius, a brother, lives at the clark homestead; george, a brother, married a daughter, of john s. godfrey. he died in . the widow was subsequently married to cornelius. leman, a brother, settled on a farm in osceola, and died in , leaving a large family. andrew, another brother, of the firm of clark brothers, died in osceola. oscar f. knapp.--capt. knapp has been conspicuous as a steamboat maker, owner and captain for the last thirty years. he was born in clinton county, new york, in . at the age of fifteen years he came west and located in delavan, wisconsin. in he removed to osceola, wisconsin, where he engaged in lumbering for about four years. in he was married to miss angeline hayes, of osceola. in the same year he engaged in the business of steamboating, with which he has been since identified more or less. his first steamboat was the h. s. allen, which, in company with e. b. strong, he bought of h. s. allen, of chippewa falls, in , for $ , . in he built the enterprise, a small but serviceable boat of light draft and fair speed. in capt. knapp built the viola, owned by a stock company. in he built the g. b. knapp, in the jennie hayes, and ran these two boats fourteen years. in he entered the employment of the united states government, improving the navigation of the st. croix river, in which work he is still engaged. his two sons, ben and george, succeeded him in the steamboat business. ben, the oldest son, was born in osceola in ; george, the second son, in . these two boys spent their childhood and youth on the river, and have grown up to be expert pilots and captains, and inherit their father's popularity as river men. ben was married to addie talboys, june, ; george to claribel wilson, in . capt. knapp has two other children, viola, now mrs. arthur johnson, and guy, still a minor. mrs. angeline knapp died at her home in osceola, march , , respected and lamented by all who knew her. capt. ben knapp died oct. , , leaving a wife and two children. mrs. elisabeth b. hayes.--mrs. hayes was born in , in dundee, yates county, new york. in she removed with her husband to missouri. after his death, in the fall of the same year, she came with her children to osceola, where she built the osceola house, which she kept a number of years. the daughters were angeline b. (mrs. o. f. knapp), mrs. hubbell and mrs. milroy, of new york, and mrs. truman foster, widow, since the wife of capt. c. g. bradley. her sons were george, frank and david. capt. george hayes followed piloting and steamboating, excepting during the rebellion, when he served as a soldier in the fourth wisconsin volunteers. in the latter part of the war he served as a scout for gen. canby. at the present time he has the appointment of steamboat inspector, with office in st. paul. david has been prominent as a steamboat captain. he now resides in iowa. cyrus g. bradley was born in kaskaskia, illinois, in . in he came to the lead mines in wisconsin and to osceola in . he was married in to the widow of truman foster, of osceola. mr. bradley engaged in lumbering, became a river pilot, running rafts to st. louis, with stems and blades, called oars and sweeps, before steamboat towing was in vogue. when steamboats became useful in running rafts, he built two steamers especially for raft towing. he had much to do in introducing the steamboat towing business. mr. bradley moved to his farm near osceola in , where he still resides. w. hale.--judge hale's early life was spent on a farm. he commenced lumbering in , and followed that business and piloting on the ohio and alleghany rivers until , when he came to osceola prairie and opened a farm. mr. hale was the first county judge of polk county, and held the position eight years. he has also served as county superintendent of schools. he was born in harmony, susquehanna county, pennsylvania, in ; was married to nancy mckeene, of orange county, new york, in . they have four sons, john, isaac, silas f., and reuben w., and three daughters, esther (mrs. treadwell), malvina (mrs. merrick), and achsah (mrs. thomas kent). edgar c. treadwell was born march , , in susquehanna county, pennsylvania. he came with a team from pennsylvania to osceola in , where he engaged in lumbering and piloting until , when he enlisted in company d, second wisconsin cavalry. he was wounded at yazoo river. he returned to osceola in and was married to esther hale in . mr. treadwell was the first sheriff of polk county, and has filled other places of trust. since the war he has resided on his farm. st. croix falls. extended mention has already been made of the village of st. croix falls in the general history of the first settlement of the county. the town includes township , range , and two partial sections of range . it was organized in , but unfortunately no records of its organization can be obtained. the surface is agreeably diversified by hill and plain, and is supplied with many species of timber, including maple, elm, and several varieties of oak. the st. croix river forms its western boundary, and presents here some of its wildest and most beautiful scenery, including the trap rock ledges of the dalles. st. croix falls village. the buildings of the falls company formed the nucleus of a village which took the name of the falls. its history has been given somewhat at length in the history of the settlement, and in "reminiscences." it is situated on the east bank of the river, between the upper and lower falls. it contains one first class flouring mill, owned by james thompson, one wagon and plow factory, owned by comer brothers, one agricultural warehouse, two livery stables (harvey & co., and lillis & co.), two excellent hotels (j. w. mullen, and c. c. fiske), one united states land office, one church building (presbyterian), costing about $ , , one graded school building, costing $ , , one town hall and several commodious stores and dwellings. the village was platted in , by marion t. chandler. the post office was established in . harvey wilson was the first postmaster. the minneapolis, soo & atlantic railway company have a branch road extending to this place from dresser's station, a distance of three miles. the village was incorporated feb. , , with the following board of officers: president, j. h. mccourt; trustees, john comer, jacob berger, george thompson, charles amery, barney o'neal, sidney wall; clerk, thomas peck; treasurer, a. hoagland; assessor, p. b. jewell; supervisor, s. w. blanding; constable, hoover christopher; justice of the peace, w. b. bull; police justice, thomas peck. st. croix village has suffered from fires. the heaviest losses were without insurance. the flouring mill was burned april , ; loss, $ , . the company's hotel was burned may, ; loss, $ , . fiske's hotel was burned sept. , ; loss, $ , . west sweden. west sweden embraces township , range . this is almost exclusively a hardwood timbered district, with some pine in the north. the soil is rich and well watered with spirit creek and upper wood river. the surface is undulating. the north part has numerous lakes and meadows. there is an upheaval of trap rock in section and copper specimens abound. the principal settlers are swedes. the town was organized nov. , . the first supervisors were n. c. johnson, a. larson and a. dolberg. sterling. the town of sterling is composed of township , ranges and . the east part is heavy hardwood timber land, with rich soil suitable for wheat; the west portion is very sandy and covered with a few scattering oaks and black pines. the whole town is well supplied with hay meadows, which afford great advantages to the stock raiser. the first actual settlers were samuel deneen and william trimmer, who came in the fall of . the year following william lowell, from stillwater, entered three hundred and twenty acres in sections and , range , and made extensive improvements. daniel f. smith took up the same amount of land in section , same town and range, and made improvements. the first white child born was the son of james cragin, august, . the first white couple married was john berry and emily stout, in . the first death was that of mrs. dunlap, sister of william trimmer, in . the town was organized in . the first town meeting was held at the residence of william lowell, and samuel deneen was the first chairman of the town. the town was called moscow, which name was changed one year after to that of sterling. it was the largest town in the county then. it was organized into two school districts, but district no. not being able to build a good school house, an old log shanty was fixed up for school purposes, and in this miss fanny trimmer taught the first school. the first saw and grist mill was built by dr. deneen. olaf strandburg established the first blacksmith shop and with it a gun shop. in charles f. rowley built a "stopping place," so called in those days, on the banks of wolf creek, at the old crossing, half a mile west of deneen's, and cultivated a few acres of land. this house was burned one night by a lot of teamsters in a drunken orgie. dr. samuel deneen, the first white settler in sterling, was born dec. , , in youngstown, ohio. he was married in to margaret conly. he studied medicine in michigan, and came to wisconsin in , and to sterling in . dr. deneen practiced his profession, made him a farm, built a saw and grist mill on wolf creek, established a post office and took an active part in the interests of the new settlement. he and his wife still live on the homestead which they have held for the past thirty years. mrs. deneen was born in . william w. trimmer came to sterling in and made a home, building and occupying what was for many years known as "trimmer's hotel." mr. trimmer died in st. croix falls in . arnold densmore was born in nova scotia, in ; was married to matilda wallace in , and came to sterling in , where he died, jan. , , much respected as a neighbor, citizen and christian. chapter vi. st. croix county. jan. , , the wisconsin legislature created a new county out of crawford county, including territory west of the chippewa river, extending northward to the british possessions, and named it st. croix. by the same act, a day was designated for an election, at which a county seat was to be chosen and county officers elected. "mouth of st. croix," now prescott, and caw-caw-baw-kang, now st. croix falls, were designated as voting places. two places only were voted for, "mouth of st. croix," and dakotah, brown's claim, now schulenberg's addition to stillwater. dakotah was chosen by a vote of forty-five to thirteen. the returns were made to prairie du chien, county seat of crawford county, and certificates issued to the county officers elected by c. j. leonard, clerk of crawford county. the legislature had at the time of creating the new county made it a probate district, philip aldrich being appointed judge. the history of the county until has been given elsewhere, as connected with the early history of stillwater. the admission of wisconsin territory as a state in divided the county, giving it the st. croix river and state line as its western boundary. the wisconsin portion of the old county was consequently left without a county seat, while the portion west of the st. croix had a county seat, but was without state or territorial jurisdiction. congress, however, declared wisconsin territorial laws to be still in force in the excluded territory, and they so remained until the organization of minnesota territory. soon after the admission of wisconsin, that part of st. croix county within its limits was reorganized for county and judicial purposes, and a new county seat chosen, located in section , township , range , at the mouth of willow river. this county seat was at first called buena vista. on sept. , , the county commissioners, under the law creating the county, held their first meeting at the county seat, in the house of philip aldrich. the commissioners present were ammah andrews, chairman; w. h. morse, and w. r. anderson, clerk. philip aldrich was appointed treasurer. four voting precincts were established, mouth of st. croix, willow river or buena vista, osceola, and falls of st. croix. these early commissioners performed duties of the most varied character incident to the government of a new county. there was as yet no county seal, and they were required to draw with the pen upon legal documents a scroll representing a seal, and to use other forms, appliances and devices without legal precedent. at the second meeting of the county commissioners osceola was represented by harmon crandall, he having been absent at the first meeting of the board. moses perin was appointed collector. license for selling intoxicating liquors was fixed at twenty dollars per annum. the rate of taxation was fixed at seven mills on the dollar. the first state election in the county was held at buena vista, nov. , . one hundred and fifteen votes were the whole number cast in the county. the following officers were elected: senator, james fisher, of crawford county; representative, joseph bowron, buena vista; county commissioners, wm. h. morse, ammah andrews, harmon crandall, buena vista; county clerk, w. richardson, buena vista; register of deeds, w. r. anderson, buena vista; judge of probate court, alvah d. heaton, osceola; county treasurer, philip aldrich, buena vista; coroner, wm. o. mahony, osceola; surveyor, alex. s. youle, st. croix falls. at the commissioners' meeting, feb. , , the county was divided into the following towns: st. croix falls, buena vista, and elisabeth. at an election held sept. , , hamlet h. perkins received forty-nine votes for judge, and joel foster forty-one. mr. perkins was drowned at st. croix falls soon after, and the governor appointed mr. foster to fill the vacancy. judge foster held his first court at buena vista. daniel noble johnson was appointed prosecuting attorney in . james hughes was appointed in . the first district court was held in august, . at a special meeting of the commissioners in , james hughes and j. m. bailey were appointed a building committee to make estimates for the erection of a courthouse and jail. at the special meeting of the commissioners, jan. , , the town of kinnikinic was organized. they had also under consideration the erection of county buildings, and appointed ammah andrews to erect the same. otis hoyt, for non-attendance at this meeting of the board, was fined fifty dollars, but the fine was subsequently remitted. the legislature of changed the name of the town of buena vista to willow river, also of the town of elisabeth to prescott. at a subsequent meeting the contract with ammah andrews to erect public buildings was rescinded, and daniel mears was made special agent to build a jail, and three hundred and fifty dollars was appropriated for that purpose. the town of rush river was organized nov. , . at the request of petitioners, the town of leroy (now osceola) was organized nov. , . a day was fixed in to vote on the change of name, willow river to hudson. the name hudson was adopted by a two-thirds majority. the legislature of created from the territory of st. croix county the counties of polk, st. croix and pierce, polk being located on the north, pierce on the south, and st. croix occupying the central portion of the original st. croix county, and retaining the county seat. st. croix county, as at present constituted, lies on the east bank of the river and lake st. croix, forming, but for slight irregularities on the western line, a parallelogram. it includes townships to , and ranges to , with fractions of range on the west. the surface varies from gently undulating to hilly. the bluffs along the lake are not precipitous, as on the upper st. croix, but are even and continuous, with gently rounded slopes. from the river, eastward, the country is broken and somewhat hilly; the central portions are rolling prairies on which are fine farms, and the eastern portions are level and originally heavily timbered. the eastern tier of townships is covered by a heavy growth of timber known as the big woods. the timber is composed of basswood, maple, butternut, several species of oak, and a sprinkling of white pine. the soil is a rich clayey loam and well adapted for grass, grain and root crops. good building and limestone crop out in places. the county is well drained by the st. croix and its tributaries, apple, willow and kinnikinic on the west and rush river on the east. of these tributaries apple river is the largest. it rises in polk county, where it is supplied by numerous lakes, enters st. croix county and passes diagonally across the northwest corner and empties into the st. croix river a few miles above stillwater. willow river rises in cylon township and empties into st. croix lake, just above hudson. this river passes through a deep gorge in the limestone rock, a few miles above its mouth, falling in its passage over several ledges of rock, producing falls famed far and near for their wildness and grandeur. kinnikinic river in the south part of the county is famed also for the beauty of its scenery and for its waterfalls. it passes into pierce county and then, uniting with its southern branch, flows into lake st. croix. rush river rises in eau galle, and turns and flows thence to lake pepin. these streams have unfailing supplies from springs and small lakes. there is a remarkable formation in the kinnikinic valley about seven miles above river falls, called the monument. it is a ledge of pure white sandstone rock, nearly circular, and rising to a height of sixty feet. it stands on a natural elevation far above the level of the valley and so forms a very conspicuous and curious object. the base is forty or fifty feet wide, and the summit is a turret-shaped mass of rock about fifteen feet wide and as many high. the part upon which the turret rests is dome-shaped, its sides worn by the rains into deep furrows. years ago a tree grew upon the summit. the soft sandstone is being gradually worn away by the winds and rains. how the school lands were selected. philip aldrich was appointed commissioner in to locate the state school lands in st. croix county, at that time including polk and pierce counties. it is said that dr. aldrich would climb to the summits of the highest mounds, and, casting his eyes east, west, north or south, would proclaim such and such numbers or sections as school lands. where all were so arable and fertile there was no use in discriminating. at the division of the county in the part designated as st. croix county was subdivided into three towns, buena vista or hudson, willow river and kinnikinic or troy. as the population increased these towns were divided and subdivided until they numbered twenty-three. we append their names and dates of organization. where more than one name is given the last is the present name: buena vista, willow river, hudson malone, troy rush river pleasant valley somerset hammond star prairie dayton, malone, kinnikinic cold spring, richmond erin prairie brookville, eau galle st. joseph cylon warren springfield emerald stanton cady baldwin forest glenwood some changes were also made in the boundaries of the towns. no progress was made in the erection of county buildings until , when a contract was made by the commissioners with ammah andrews to build a court house for $ , on the ground originally purchased of moses perin. the final cost was $ , . st. croix agricultural society. an important event to the county was the organization of the st. croix agricultural society, in . beautiful grounds were chosen on the bluffs one-half mile south of the city of hudson. the annual fairs of this association, formerly held in rotation at various points in the county, now limited to the grounds south of the city, have always been well patronized and successful. pomona grange. the pomona grange of st. croix county holds quarterly meetings at various points, alternately. there are subordinate granges at hudson, richmond, hammond, and warren. there is a co-operative store in the city of hudson which is well sustained. these granges are in a flourishing condition. agricultural statistics. at the taking of the last census there were , farms in st. croix county, containing , acres of improved land, valued at $ , , . the farm implements were then placed at a valuation of $ , ; live stock, at $ , ; and all soil products at $ , , . the stock numbered , horses, mules, oxen, , cows, and , other cattle. the average yield of products throughout the county can be fairly placed at these figures: wheat, , , bushels; oats, , bushels; rye and barley, , bushels; corn, , bushels; potatoes, , bushels; hay, , tons; cheese, , pounds; butter, , pounds. during the past few years agriculture has steadily increased while rapid strides have been made in manufactures, so that the totals would be quite materially enlarged now over those of . manufactures. in manufactures the statisticians have the county down for establishments with a capital of $ , , utilizing materials to the amount of $ , , , evolving products to the sum of $ , , , and paying $ , in wages per annum. as to manufactures, in round numbers there is produced in the county: lumber, , , feet; shingles, , , : laths, , , ; furniture, $ , ; barrels, , ; flour, , barrels. st. croix poor farm is located in the northwest part of kinnikinic, section , on each side of the kinnikinic river. it was purchased in for $ , , and the probable present value is $ , . first tax roll of st. croix county, . st. croix falls. =========================================================== names. | amt. property. | total tax. ----------------------------+----------------+------------- john mckusick | $ , . | $ . leach & mckean | , . | . edward johnson | , . | . falls of st. croix company | , . | . dexter & harrington | , . | . a. w. russell | . | . edward worth | . | . peter lombair | . | . serno jonava | . | . j. mclanglin | , . | . wm. town | . | . j. cornelison | . | . george de attley | . | . s. partridge | . | . dan foster | . | . a. livingston & kelly | . | . john powers | . | . thos. foster | . | . george field | . | . adam sebert | . | . weymouth & brother | . | . s. s. crowell | . | . lewis barlow | . | . i. s. kimball | . | . philip b. jewell | , . | . kent & mahoney | , . | . h. crandall | . | . daniel coite | . | . m. m. samuels | . | . w. h. c. folsom | . | . w. w. folsom | . | . j. sanders | . | . g. w. brownell | , . | . richard arnold | . | . wm. r. marshall | . | . dr. palmer | . | . joseph lagroo | . | . j. bascan | . | . b. cheever | , . | . h. h. perkins | , . | . levi lagoo | . | . m. shults | , . | . +----------------+------------ total | $ , . | $ , . ------------------------------------------------------------ willow river. =========================================================== names. amt. property. total tax. ----------------------------+----------------+------------- james purinton | $ . | $ . wm. r. anderson | . | . samuel clift | . | . joseph kelner | . | . p. d. aldrich | . | . moses perin | . | . ammah andrews | . | . john b. page | , . | . lewis massey | . | . joseph lagrew | . | . wm. h. nobles | . | . lemuel nobles | . | . milton e. nobles | . | . john collier | . | . philip aldrich | . | . peter f. bouchea | . | . a. smith | . | . mcknight | . | . wm. steets | . | . joseph abear | . | . +----------------+------------ total | $ , . | $ . ------------------------------------------------------------ mouth of lake st. croix. ================================================================== names. |amt. property. | total tax. ----------------------------+---------------+---------------------- thomas m. finch | $ . | $ . mrs. lockwood | , . | . freeman, larpenteur & co | . | . frank trudell | . | . louis barlow | . | . fog & crownenbald | , . | . i. l. minox | . | . j. r. rice | . | . g. w. mcmurphy | . | . h. doe | . | . wm. kimbrough | . | . w. h. morse | . | . wilson thing | . | . w. c. copley | . | . willard thing | . | . george shagor | , . | . george barron | . | . joseph monjon | . | . joseph monjon, jr. | . | . henry thaxter | . | . aaron cornelison | . | . james cornelison | . | . lewis harnsberger | . | . ----------------------------+---------------+------------------ totals | $ , . | $ . ============================================================== the above roll was published in pamphlet form, certified to by wm. r. anderson, clerk of board of county commissioners, and an order issued to moses perin to collect such taxes, and pay over to the treasurer of st. croix county. the amounts were duly collected. hudson city. the first settlement in st. croix county was made on the present site of hudson city in by peter bouchea, louis massey, wm. steets and joseph lagroo, frenchmen, who subsisted chiefly by hunting and fishing, but who also raised garden crops of corn, beans and other vegetables. these people were contented and jovial, fond of dancing and social enjoyment. beyond the mere pleasure of living they seemed to have but little care and were without enterprise or ambition. more enterprising and industrious people followed them to the new settlement, and as the public lands were not open for entry until , settled upon the lands and made some improvements, awaiting patiently the time when they could acquire a legal title. the original claimants of the town of buena vista in were peter bouchea, louis massey, wm. steets, joseph lagroo, joseph lenavil, ---- revere, ammah andrews, w. h. and m. v. nobles, john b. page, philip aldrich, and w. r. anderson. these parties, after the survey and prior to the entry of the land, made an equitable division of their claims. peter bouchea and louis massey were then delegated to purchase the lands, which they did, bouchea purchasing the southwest quarter of southeast quarter of section , township , range , and massey, the northwest quarter of the southeast quarter of section , township , range . deeds were then made to the various claimants according to the original agreement. the first individual survey of lots was made on massey's entry, harvey wilson, of stillwater, being the surveyor. the village thus platted was at first called buena vista, but some confusion arising as to the title of lots in , the legislature changed the name of the town and village to willow river, which, by vote of the people in , was changed to hudson. the original proprietors of the village of buena vista were paschal aldrich, james sanders, moses perin, james r. patten and joseph abear. additions were surveyed in and by gibson, henning and others. to avoid confusion we shall discard the earlier names applied to what has since become the city of hudson and speak of it solely by its later and better known name. in the locality, as seen from a passing steamer, seemed a wilderness of orchard oaks and maples, filling the valley of willow river, and clothing the slopes of the hills. a closer view might have revealed an occasional shanty, a cabin of the first french settlers, with small gardens, the whole inclosed by high picket fences as a protection against strolling indians. seven years later loggers were at work on willow river under capt. j. b. page. the same year a couple of frame houses appeared in the oak openings. the first was built by w. h. nobles, which is still standing and is occupied by mrs. col. james hughes. the second was built by ammah andrews and is now occupied by horace champlin. in james purinton commenced a saw mill and dam at the mouth of willow river, which were not, completed until . in wm. h. nobles started a ferry over the lake. james purinton opened a store and moses perin built a hotel and boarding house, which stood opposite champlin's present livery stable. in miss richards, from prairie du chien, taught the first school. mrs. a. m. richardson, the wife of the methodist minister, the second. a school house was not built until . john g. putman built the buckeye house, corner of first and buckeye streets. horace barlow built a residence. mr. stone also put up a store building. the first attorneys, daniel noble johnson and col. james hughes, commenced practice in hudson in . the first public building stood on the lot now occupied by the methodist church. it burned down in the spring of , and an account of the fire, as published at that time, stated that the "court house, methodist, baptist, congregational and episcopal churches, together with the high school buildings, were all consumed." it is but fair to say that there were no regular church organizations at this time, but occasional services by local and transient ministers. rev. lemuel nobles, a methodist minister, preached the first sermon in . the first society organization was that of the baptists, rev. s. t. catlin, pastor, in . in the same year rev. a. m. richardson was regularly appointed as pastor of the methodist episcopal church. in the first presbyterian church was organized under the pastorate of rev. chas. thayer, and rev. wilcoxson became the first rector of the episcopal church. in rev. father mcgee took charge of the catholic church. in rev. c. h. marshall was called to the pastorate of the congregational church. a norwegian lutheran church was organized in . all of these church organizations have good church buildings, and the catholic church has a flourishing school connected with it. school interests were not neglected by the early settlers. a good school house was built in and graded. the first deed recorded covering hudson property was by louis massey and frances, his wife, to wm. h. nobles; warranty; consideration, $ . ; situate in east half of southwest quarter of section , township , range . city government. hudson was incorporated as a city in , and the first municipal election was held in april of that year. the city was divided into three wards. a. d. gay was the first mayor. the following were the first aldermen: first ward, james b. gray, milton v. nobles, j. m. fulton; second ward, alfred day, r. a. gridley, chas. e. dexter; third ward, chas. thayer, n. p. lester, n. perry. the remaining city officers were: city clerk, o. bell; city attorney, cyrus l. hall; surveyor, michael lynch. at the first meeting of the city council, after the appointment of committees on by-laws, bond sales, salaries, etc., license for selling intoxicating liquors was fixed at fifty dollars per annum for hotel keepers, two hundred dollars for wholesale dealers, with various grades for retail saloons. the first license issued was to john cyphers, for keeping saloon and billiard hall. mayors of hudson city. . a. d. gray, . alfred day, . silas staples, . john comstock, . s. n. clough, . a. d. richardson, . c. r. coon, . h. l. humphrey, . j. h. brown, . simon hunt, . lemuel north, . c. h. lewis, . h. a. wilson, . a. j. goss, . p. q. boyden, . d. c. fulton, . m. a. fulton, . samuel hyslop, . sam. c. johnson, m. d. . wm. h. phipps. city schools. graded schools were established in . they have ever maintained an excellent reputation. in charlotte mann was chosen principal, and taught the eight ensuing years. a new school building was completed in at a cost of $ , . this building is devoted to high school purposes. the schools of the city are graded. there are eleven departments and twelve teachers. each ward of the city has a separate building. the school fund amounts to about $ , per annum. the schools are under the control of six commissioners. a military institute was organized at river falls by prof. j. r. hinckley, and shortly afterward removed to hudson, and a building worth $ , erected for its accommodation. in it was purchased by the catholics, and it is now known as st. marys academy. mills and manufactories. the first saw mill, as already noted, was completed in . it was known as purinton's saw mill. other saw mills were built, but destroyed by fire. we have no record of ownership and losses, but estimate the aggregate of the latter as near $ , . the willow river mills, built in , consist of two flouring mills, with a capacity of four hundred barrels per day. connected with these are a large elevator and cooper shop. the present proprietors are cooper, clark & co. the invested capital is $ , . the hudson lumber company, in , built a saw mill, below the steamboat landing. this mill has a capacity of , , feet per annum, and has a planing mill attached. it is complete in all its departments, manufacturing all classes of lumber, from timber to mouldings. the capital stock amounts to $ , . the officers are h. a. taylor, president; c. r. coon, vice president; m. herrick, secretary; f. d. harding, treasurer; s. w. pierce, superintendent. the hudson foundry and machine shop was established in . the north hudson foundry and car shops are doing a fine business. the hudson carriage works were established in , and the hudson furniture manufactory in . the amount invested in this enterprise is $ , , and it furnishes employment to one hundred men. c. r. coon is president of the company. there are two breweries--moctreman's, established in , and yoerg's in . banks. the st. croix valley bank was organized in . it was a bank of issue, payable at gordon, wisconsin. it closed in . the hudson city bank, organized sept. , , went into operation under the general law of wisconsin, capital stock $ , , secured by michigan and missouri state stocks. j. o. henning was president and m. s. gibson, cashier. it soon closed. the farmers and mechanics bank, a state bank, went into operation in and closed the following year. the hudson first national bank was organized in , with a capital of $ , . the first officers were john comstock, president; alfred j. goss, cashier. the officers in are john comstock, president; a. e. jefferson, cashier. the surplus fund is $ , . the directors are h. a. taylor, h. l. humphrey, john c. spooner, a. l. clark, f. d. harding, a. t. goss, and w. h. crowe. the hudson savings bank was organized in , with a capital stock of $ , . alfred goss, president; a. j. goss, cashier. alfred goss died in --, but the bank is in successful operation, the son still retaining his father's name as head of the firm. the oliver wendell holmes hospital. [illustration: oliver wendell holmes hospital.] the beautiful private hospital which takes the name of america's popular poet, oliver wendell holmes, was opened june , . the credit of this hospital scheme is entirely due to dr. irving d. wiltrout, of hudson, who for some years has been assiduously at work maturing the plans. the owners are dr. wiltrout and the johnston brothers, of boardman. the site is upon a beautiful wooded slope of willow river, about a mile from its mouth, overlooking lake mallalieu, an expanse of the river, and a broad sweep of the st. croix with its undulating banks, commanding the most delightful and extensive views. the building is lighted by the mather self regulating, incandescent system of electricity. the dynamo, engine and boilers are located in a fireproof brick structure, some distance from the building proper, communicating with the hospital by an underground passageway. the hospital is under the direction of the following board: president, a. j. goss; first vice president, john comstock; second vice president, john e. glover; secretary, thomas hughes; treasurer, rev. m. benson. water works. the hudson water works, supplied from lake st. croix, are situated upon liberty hill, in the rear of the southern part of the city. they are owned by w. s. evans. the hill is two hundred and seventeen feet above the lake, and commands a magnificent view of the surrounding country. the summit is easily accessible. the city is also well supplied with water from artesian wells, which were sunk to a depth of five hundred feet, and afford a flow of two hundred gallons per minute. hotels. the principal hotels are the chapin house, first built in , but twice destroyed by fire. the last structure was erected in , by h. a. taylor. the tracy house was built in , the seely house in , the commercial hotel in , and the central house in . the great fire. may , , hudson city was visited with a destructive conflagration. sixty-four business houses and twenty-five residences were destroyed. it was probably the result of accident or carelessness. it commenced in the rear of h. a. taylor's furniture rooms and printing office, and spread with such rapidity that it was with the greatest difficulty that merchants and others were able to save their valuable papers. the wind blew a gale and the flames spread and caught in every direction. the fire occurred fortunately in the daytime or it might have been attended with a frightful loss of life. as it was, there were many narrow escapes. the total losses from this fire were $ , , on which there was but $ , insurance. a destructive fire occurred in , destroying the chapin hall house, valued at $ , , and other property to the value of $ , , on which there was but $ , insurance. during the same year another fire occurred, destroying , bushels of wheat and the furniture of the chapin hall house, which had been saved from the previous fire. the loss was estimated at $ , with $ , insurance. social and benevolent organizations. st. croix lodge, a. f. and a. m., founded ; colfax lodge, no. , i. o. o. f., founded ; hudson city lodge, no. , i. o. g. t., founded ; ladies' library association, founded ; st. croix r. a. chapter, founded ; y. m. c. a., founded ; nash lodge, i. o. g. t., founded ; temple of honor, founded ; st. croix commandery, founded ; st. croix lodge, a. o. u. w., founded ; equitable union, founded . in addition to the foregoing there is a volunteer fire company, a boat club, an old settlers' club, a bible society, a building and loan association, and a cemetery association. biographical. louis massey came of a long-lived french-canadian family. his father lived to the age of one hundred and seven and his mother to one hundred and five and he himself lived to the age of ninety-nine years. he was born in canada, near montreal, in . in he left home to enter the service of the british fur traders at detroit. in his eventful life he had many adventures and passed through many perils. he was once arrested with his employer by the american authorities and once made prisoner by the indians. in he entered the employ of the notorious col. dickson, and, while with him, made a trip from detroit by way of mackinaw, green bay, fox and wisconsin rivers to prairie du chien in a birch canoe. he made two trips in mackinaw boats from prairie du chien to new orleans and return. in one trip he was four months making his way from new orleans to st. louis. he made one voyage in a birch canoe from montreal via ottawa river, georgian bay, lake huron, st. marie's river and lake superior to fond du lac, at the mouth of st. louis river, via sandy lake and the mississippi river to lake winnibagoshish, and another from fond du lac to brule river, across to st. croix river, thence to the mississippi, and by way of st. peter's river to lake traverse by canoe. in he entered the service of the american fur company, and lived at fond du lac, the headquarters of the company, for ten years. there he was married to a sister of peter bouchea. in he settled on the reservation near fort snelling, where he was held in such estimation that, on the expulsion of the settlers, the officers of the fort assisted him in his removal to willow river, whither he came in with peter bouchea. wm. steets and joseph lagroo soon followed them. these four were the first settlers in hudson. mr. massey lived at his old home with a son-in-law, richard picard, until his death, oct. , . his only child living is mrs. picard. peter bouchea was born at sault ste. marie, michigan, about . he spent his early life in the neighborhood of lake superior, was married to a daughter of ---- bruce, and came to the mouth of willow river in . mr. bouchea had been educated for the catholic priesthood. he was a truthful, intelligent, reliable man and filled some positions of responsibility. he had many stirring adventures and was once wounded by indians and cared for by gov. cass, of michigan, at detroit and fort gratiot. he died in , at fort edward, on the north shore of lake superior. william streets came to willow river in , a refugee from the fort snelling reservation. he was frozen to death in the winter of . capt. john b. page came from piscataquis county, maine, to the st. croix valley in , and engaged for awhile in cutting pine logs on willow river. while rafting on the mississippi he met, and after a brief courtship married, a woman who returned with him to his home on willow river and who survives him. mrs. page had some reputation as a (thomsonian) physician. they made their home in hudson in . their daughter abigail was the first white child of american descent born in hudson. abigail married george bailey, and their sons, george w. and david, were for a long time residents of hudson, and have but lately deceased. mr. page died feb. , . dr. philip aldrich, although not a permanent settler till , was an occasional or transient visitor, and had made a land claim in section . he took a deep interest in the affairs of the pioneer settlement, and at his house many of the public gatherings, political and social, were held. he was the first postmaster, and, in the exigencies of the service, sometimes carried the mail on foot. while a resident of st. croix falls in , he was appointed probate judge. in he was appointed treasurer of the county of st. croix, and at the election in november of the same year, elected to that office. dr. aldrich was born in new york in , and died at his home in hudson, march , . the nobles family settled in hudson in . rev. lemuel nobles, the father, was a methodist local minister, and in preached the first sermon at the mouth of willow river. he came originally from new york, lived a few years in the valley and removed to michigan, where he died. his children were william h., milton v., john, mrs. battles and mrs. morton s. wilkinson, deceased. wm. h. became a resident of minnesota and a noted man. his biography is given elsewhere. milton v. nobles was born in new york in ; removed to michigan; was married to matilda edwards, sept. , , in stillwater, and came to hudson in , where he followed lumbering until , when he returned to new york and located at elmira, where he resided until his death. while at elmira he became an inventor and took out several valuable patents. his fortunes varied, and as is frequently the case with inventors, at one time he was wretchedly poor. in the midst of his galling poverty he sold one of his patents for a beautiful homestead in elmira. mrs. nobles had not been informed of the transaction, but with her husband had visited the occupants of the homestead. mrs. nobles could not but contrast this pleasant home with her own poverty stricken surroundings, and in inviting her entertainers to return the call, told them plainly that she lived in a very humble home, and feared she could not make a visit pleasant to them. at this point the host stepped forward, and, by a preconcerted arrangement, presented her a deed to the mansion and grounds--a joyful surprise. john nobles, the youngest son, returned to michigan and new york, where he became a methodist minister. some time subsequently he removed to colorado, where he died. james purinton was born in , in tamworth, new hampshire. he was married to mary mann, in sandwich, new hampshire. he afterward removed to maine. he came to st. croix falls in , and leased the st. croix mills, and some time after became part owner. this venture not being successful, he removed to willow river in , where he built a large dam across the river, and with others erected a saw mill on the point of land between the lake and river. this venture was not successful and the mill property passed into other hands. mr. purinton was an experienced lumberman and an active, energetic man. the north side of willow river, in which he was so much interested, became afterward quite valuable on account of the centralization of shops, depots and business of the west wisconsin and north wisconsin railroads. mr. purinton died in hudson in , leaving two married daughters--mrs. ----graves and mrs. james mcphail. ammah andrews was born in herkimer county, new york, in , and passed his early life in that place. in he was married to laura andrews, and in the same year moved to michigan. he came to hudson in . mr. andrews was a carpenter and took some important building contracts. he was one of the first commissioners of st. croix county under the state government, and also one of the first school directors. he has been an active and influential member of the methodist episcopal church the greater part of his life. he has three sons, now living in nebraska, and one daughter, the wife of f. d. harding, of hudson, wisconsin. mr. andrews died jan. , . james walstow.--mr. walstow was born in nottingham, england, in ; was married there, and came to hudson in . he removed to nebraska in . james sanders was born in devonshire, england, in ; came to america in , and lived for years in new york. in he married mary walstow, removed to st. croix falls in and to hudson in , where he opened and improved the first farm in the present st. croix county. mrs. sanders died in . she left two sons, william and walstow. mr. sanders removed to osceola in . j. w. stone was born in connecticut in . he came to hudson in and opened the first store the same year. he died in . joseph bowron was born aug. , , in essex county, new york. his parents were from newcastle on the tyne, england. his mother was a member of the society of friends. she died when joseph was five years old, and he was reared by his aunt until nineteen years of age, when he engaged in business for himself in lower canada. some time afterward he removed to the united states and obtained work on the illinois canal. he next removed to st. louis, and from thence, in , to st. croix falls, where he acted as clerk, scaler of logs and mill superintendent. he was a member of the first state legislature of wisconsin, in . w. r. marshall had received the certificate of election, but mr. bowron successfully contested the election. mr. bowron removed in to hudson, where he attended to general collections, and served as justice of the peace. in mr. bowron was married to celia partridge, of columbia county, wisconsin, who died three years later. in he was married to rosanna partridge, who died in . mr. bowron died april , , leaving two children, who now reside in kansas. moses perin was born in ; came to st. croix falls in and to hudson in . he was the first collector of st. croix county. in he built a warehouse and saw mill at lakeland, minnesota. the warehouse was burned, and the saw mill removed. in mr. perin removed to san diego, california. john o. henning was born at bellefonte, centre county, pennsylvania, in . his great grandfather was the first settler in that county. in his father removed to ithaca, new york, and there the youthful henning received his education at the academy. during the excitement of the jackson administration he became an ardent democrat, and, that he might enter more fully into the political strife of the day, learned the printer's trade and devoted himself more or less to newspaper work. he visited the mississippi valley in , remained some time at st. louis, missouri, springfield, illinois, burlington, iowa, and some other places. in he established the _journal_ at fond du lac, wisconsin, and in removed to hudson, wisconsin, where he still resides. he served eight years as register of the united states land office at that place. he represented st. croix county in the assembly of the fourth wisconsin legislature and has held many other positions of trust. mr. henning was married, jan. , , to fidelia bennet. mrs. henning died june , , aged sixty-six years. moses s. gibson was born in , in livingston county, new york. he received the rudiments of a common school education. he was engaged in mercantile pursuits a large portion of his life. he settled at sheboygan, wisconsin, in , but afterward moved to fond du lac. he represented fond du lac county in the constitutional convention in . he was appointed receiver of the united states land office at hudson in . in he was married to carrie f. gilman. during the rebellion he acted as paymaster, united states army, and was assigned to the department of missouri, with headquarters at st. louis. in he was appointed assistant in the sixth auditor's office, washington, district of columbia. mr. gibson has led a busy and useful life and has acquitted himself well in the various positions of responsibility to which he has been called. col. james hughes.--col. hughes was born in prince edwards county, virginia, oct. , . he received a classical education at hampdon-sydney college, virginia, studied law, and was admitted to practice in virginia. he came to ohio in , and was elected to the legislature in and . he was married in to elisabeth mather, in jackson county. he remained in ohio until , publishing successively the _jackson standard_ and the _meigs county telegraph_, both whig papers. in he came to st. paul and brought with him the first printing press and outfit in that city, and established the _minnesota chronicle,_ which subsequently united with the _register_. the first number bears the date june , . in november of the same year he sold his interest in the _chronicle and register_ and removed to hudson, where he established the _st. croix banner_, the first paper printed and issued in the st. croix valley. mrs. hughes was associated with him in its management. they subsequently published the hudson _republican_. mr. hughes died at hudson in , leaving a widow and eleven children, seven sons and four daughters. of the sons, eleazer is a farmer in st. croix county; geo. r. is engaged in the real estate business in st. paul; edward p. is a lawyer in anoka; james s., a surveyor; chas. v. is manager of the western telegraph company; and lucius a. is a telegraph operator in st. paul. daniel anderson was born in , in new york; received a common school education, and removed with his parents to macoupin county, illinois, in ; was married in to eliza hoxsey; lived in dubuque in and , and moved to hudson in , where he followed merchandising until . he was county treasurer in and part of the year following. he died july , : mrs. anderson died in september of the same year, leaving a daughter, medora, wife of alfred day, of hudson, and one son, jarret, now a resident in montana. alfred day was born in , in vermont, and came to hudson in , where he engaged in the real estate, farming and livery business. mr. day was married in hudson, to a daughter of daniel anderson. he died in st. paul, nov. , , leaving a widow, three sons and two daughters. dr. otis hoyt.--dr. hoyt was born in sandwich, new hampshire, dec. , . his parents were george and mary hoyt. both grandfathers were soldiers in the war of the revolution. he received a common school education; prepared for college in the academy at fryburg, maine; graduated at dartmouth in , and from jefferson medical college, at philadelphia, in . he practiced his profession at mason, new hampshire, and framingham, massachusetts, until , when he entered the service as surgeon in the united states army during the mexican war. in he came to st. croix falls, and practiced medicine. in he removed to hudson. the same year he was elected to the fifth wisconsin legislature, as assemblyman. in he entered the united states service as surgeon of the thirtieth wisconsin volunteer infantry, but was on detached service most of the time. for awhile he had charge of the hospital at camp randall, madison, wisconsin. he was examining surgeon of , recruits, and was medical director at bowling green and louisville, kentucky. he was eminent in his profession, yet public spirited, and engaged at times, successfully, in real estate and railroad enterprises. as a physician, it is said, to his credit, that he was impartial to the last degree, and as prompt and punctilious in visiting the log cabin of the poor man as the parlor of a state or government official. he was married in to mary king. two children were born to them, charles and mary (mrs. h. a. wilson, deceased). mrs. hoyt died at framingham. in dr. hoyt was married to eliza b. king, sister of his first wife. their children are ella frances, married to dr. chas. f. king, hudson; annie, married to dr. eppley, of new richmond; hattie, married to ----wyard, crookston, minnesota; ida, a teacher at stillwater, and lizzie, married to rev. w. r. reynolds, of hudson. dr. hoyt died at his home in hudson, nov. , . mrs. hoyt died oct. , , in boston, massachusetts. her remains were brought to hudson for burial. s. s. n. fuller.--mr. fuller was born in attleboro, massachusetts, in . he removed to harford, pennsylvania, with his parents when six years of age. he was educated at harford. he studied law and was admitted to practice at montrose. he practiced at great bend, pennsylvania. he came to fond du lac county, wisconsin, in , where he was seven years district attorney. he came to hudson in , removed to iowa in and died at logan, harrison county, iowa, in . he was married to clarissa a. day in , who with one son and four daughters, all married and resident in iowa, survives him. he was district judge some years for the st. croix valley district. miles h. van meter was born in kentucky in . he received a common school education and learned the trade of a builder. he was married to mary p. litsey, in kentucky, in , moved to illinois in and to hudson in . he has six sons and two daughters. abe c. is editor of the _st. croix republican_ at new richmond. two of his sons are in illinois, three in dakota. mrs. van meter died in . philip b. jewell was born in hopkinton, new hampshire, oct. , ; was raised on a farm; obtained a common school education; in was married to hannah j. fuller, and in came to st. croix falls, where he lived until , when he removed to hudson. he engaged in lumbering and piloting on the st. croix. at the beginning of the late war he enlisted in the twelfth wisconsin infantry and served during the war. in he was appointed inspector of logs and lumber of the fourth district. mrs. jewell died in . he married, as his second wife, ellen restiaux. john tobin.--mr. tobin was born in ireland in . his father died in , and he came with an uncle to this country. he settled at marine in , and in came to st. joseph's township, where he resided until his death, jan. , . he was married in illinois in and his widow still lives at the old homestead. of twelve children seven are now living. horace a. taylor, son of rev. adolphus taylor, of norfolk, new york, was born in . his father died in . at the age of ten years horace was earning his living on a farm. at thirteen he came to river falls. some time after he returned east and spent four years on a farm. returning to wisconsin he established a stage line between prescott and hudson. in , with his brother lute a., he established the river falls _journal_, and, in , purchased the hudson _chronicle_ and changed its name to the hudson _times_. four years later the _times_ and the _north star_ were consolidated under the title of the _star and times_. mr. taylor is a man of energy and enterprise and has engaged in real estate transactions on a large scale. he is a man of quick perceptions and of ready wit and has been honored with some important public positions. he was for some time state agent of railroad lands. he was appointed consul to marseilles by president garfield in , but resigned the position in . in he was married to lizzie madden, of chicago. jeremiah whaley was born in , in castile, new york. his father dying he aided in caring for his widowed mother. he was married in pike county, new york, in , and came to hudson in , where he engaged in the mercantile and real estate business and acted as postmaster. mr. whaley died in hudson in , leaving a widow, two sons in michigan, one in pipestone, minnesota, and four daughters. simon hunt was born in camden, maine, in . he lived at home until seventeen years old; acquired a common school and academic education; served an apprenticeship of five years at boot and shoe making in georgetown, massachusetts, and came to hudson in . he was married to jane c. arcy in maine in . mr. hunt has served as mayor of hudson and was for several years superintendent of schools. mrs. hunt died in . john s. moffatt was born in tompkins county, new york, in . he received a common school and academic education. in he was married to nancy bennett. he removed to hudson in , and was in the land office several years. he is a lawyer by profession; has served thirteen years as police justice, and eight years as county judge. james h. childs was born in montear county, pennsylvania, in ; came to wisconsin in ; settled in hudson in , and engaged in the real estate and lumbering business. he was married to elisabeth mccartney, in hudson, . william dwelley was born in foxcroft, maine, in ; came to the st. croix valley in , and settled in hudson in . mr. dwelley was an explorer, scaler of logs, and surveyor. he died april , . james m. fulton--the ancestors of mr. fulton came from scotland and settled in new york about . his father served in the army during the war of and died while in the service. james m. fulton with his family came to hudson in , where he died, march , , aged about forty-six. mrs. fulton still lives in hudson. marcus a. fulton, oldest son of james m. fulton, was born in bethel, sullivan county, new york, in . he came with his parents to hudson in , and engaged with his brother in the mercantile and real estate business. he was elected to the state senate in and . in he was elected mayor of hudson. he has also served on the board of education, and as alderman. he was married in to augusta ainsley, who died in . in he was married to adelia frances ainsley. david c. fulton, second son of james m. fulton, was born in new york, february, . he came to hudson with his parents, and, after completing a common school and academic education, engaged in mercantile and real estate business. mr. fulton has been elected to various important positions. he was mayor of hudson one term, supervisor of st. croix county three years, member of the board of education, alderman, and member of the state assembly ( ). he served three years during the civil war as captain in the thirtieth wisconsin infantry, and was promoted to position of major. since the war, he served six years as one of the board of managers of the national home for disabled soldiers, and is now serving, by appointment of president cleveland, as united states marshal for western wisconsin. mr. fulton was married in to minnie champlin. n. s. holden was born in ; was one of the early settlers of the st. croix valley, and for many years a citizen of hudson. he followed surveying and scaling. he died suddenly, july , . he left a widow, two sons and four daughters. william h. semmes was born in alexandria, virginia. he came to hudson in , and practiced law, as a partner of judge mcmillan, in stillwater. he was a young man of great promise, but died early and much lamented, sept. , . sterling jones was born in steuben county, new york, in . he removed to indiana in , and in was married to elisabeth sines. they removed to beloit, wisconsin, in , and to hudson in . mr. jones died in . mrs. jones, five sons and two daughters are still living. edwin b. married a daughter of rev. w. t. boutwell. jerome b. married a daughter of rev. wm. egbert, of hammond, and resides in hudson. he has been sheriff and treasurer of st. croix county and has held town and city offices. the remaining sons, george r., henry b. and harvey j., and the daughters, eunice m. and sarah e., are married and reside in hudson. d. r. bailey was born april , , in vermont. he attended oberlin college, ohio, and graduated in law at albany law school, in . he was collector of customs at highgate, vermont, from to . he practiced law at st. albans, vermont, ten years, and was state representative in and . he was a delegate to the republican national convention in , and a member of the vermont senate from to . he made his residence in st. croix county in , where he resided till , when he removed to sioux falls, dakota. while in st. croix county he engaged in farming, lumbering and manufacturing. henry c. baker was born in , in genesee county, new york; graduated at albany university, new york, in , and was admitted to the bar in , and came to hudson in . he has practiced law continuously since; has also held many town and county offices; has been attorney of the various railroads centring in hudson, and is now attorney of the minneapolis, soo st. marie & atlantic railroad. he was married in to ellen m. brewster. mert herrick was born in orleans county, new york, in . he received a common school education. he came to st. croix in ; was married in to lois p. willard; enlisted at the beginning of the civil war in the thirtieth and later in the fortieth wisconsin volunteer infantry, and served during the war. he has held the office of treasurer of st. croix county for six years. he is at present a member of the hudson lumber company. d. a. baldwin, president of the west wisconsin railroad, built a fine residence on the shore of the lake, north of willow river, in the latter part of the ' s, and did much to promote the interests of north hudson, which he surveyed into village lots in . d. a. and h. a. baldwin erected a commodious hotel in north hudson in . the hotel was subsequently sold to h. a. taylor and removed to hudson, where it was known as the chapin hall house. mr. baldwin removed from hudson when the west wisconsin railroad passed into other hands. john comstock was born in cayuga county, new york, in . when he was twelve years old his parents removed to pontiac, michigan. he here served an apprenticeship of three years to a millwright, and afterward engaged in business at pontiac until . he came to hudson in , and was city contractor six years. in he founded the first national bank of hudson, in which he has ever since been a director. mr. comstock has been engaged in many public enterprises and has been uniformly successful. he is one of the most reliable and substantial of the business men of hudson. he was married in . lucius p. wetherby was born in onondago county, new york, october, . at eighteen years of age, he went to weston, new york, where he studied law with martin grover and w. j. angell. he was married in to sophia antremont, and in removed to hudson. in he was elected judge of the eighth district, wisconsin, and served six years. john c. spooner.--mr. spooner was born in lawrenceburg, indiana, jan. , . he was educated at the district schools until , when his father, judge spooner, removed to madison, wisconsin. this removal afforded the son an opportunity of entering upon a course of classical instruction in the state university, which he would have completed but for the civil war. in he enlisted as a private in the fortieth wisconsin infantry. he did honorable duty at the front until compelled by sickness to retire from the army. after having served a short time as assistant state librarian, and having been restored to health, he raised a company which was attached to the fiftieth wisconsin regiment, and became its captain. his regiment was sent to the missouri river to do service among the indians, and was stationed at fort rice, dakota. in july, , it was mustered out of the service. he then returned to madison and commenced the study of law. [illustration: john comstock] when gen. lucius fairchild was elected governor, mr. spooner was chosen as his private and military secretary. he held this position for eighteen months, when he resigned and entered the office of the attorney general of the state as assistant. in he removed to hudson and began a general law practice. the following year he was elected a member of the state legislature. while a member of this body he vigorously championed the state university, which institution was at that time in sore trouble. his service in this matter was afterward recognized by the governor, who appointed him a member of the board of regents of the university, which position he still retains. he was for twelve years general solicitor of the west wisconsin railroad company and the chicago, st. paul, minneapolis & omaha company. in may, , he resigned. mr. spooner stands deservedly high in his profession, and has acquired eminence also as a political speaker. the wisconsin legislature elected him to the united states senate, january, , and he at once took rank among the most eloquent and able members of that body. he is of small physique, not weighing over one hundred and twenty-five or one hundred and thirty pounds, has a dark complexion and a smoothly shaven face, and is possessed of great bodily as well as mental energy. thomas porter.--mr. porter was born in tyrone, ireland, in ; received a common school education, and learned the trade of wagonmaker. he came to america in ; served three years during the civil war as a private in company a., thirtieth regiment, wisconsin volunteers; moved to hudson in , and represented st. croix county in the assembly in . herman l. humphrey was born at candor, tioga county, new york, march , ; received a public school education, with the addition of one year in cortland academy; became a merchant's clerk at the age of sixteen, in ithaca, new york, and remained there for several years; studied law in the office of walbridge & finch, was admitted to the bar in july, , and removed to hudson, wisconsin, where he commenced practice in january, ; was soon after appointed district attorney of st. croix county, to fill a vacancy; was appointed by the governor county judge of st. croix county, to fill a vacancy, in the fall of , and in the spring of was elected for the full term of four years from the following january; was elected to the state senate for two years, and in february, , resigned the office of county judge; was elected mayor of hudson for one year; was elected in the spring of judge of the eighth judicial circuit, and was re-elected in , serving from january, , until march, . he was elected a representative from wisconsin in the forty-fifth congress as a republican, and was re-elected to the forty-sixth congress. during the past three years he has devoted himself to his profession in hudson. mr. humphrey has been twice married. in june, , he was married to jennie a. cross, in dixon, illinois. mrs. humphrey died in january, , leaving two sons, herman l., jr., and william h., and three daughters, fanny s., mary a., and grace j. mr. humphrey was married to mrs. elvira dove, at oswego, new york, october . in he served again as a member of the assembly. theodore cogswell was born in , at whitehall, new york. he received a common school education and learned the trade of a painter. he removed to stillwater in and to hudson in and to st. paul in . he was married to augusta b. kelly in . his son was for many years editor of the hudson _republican_. frank p. catlin is of revolutionary and connecticut stock. his father entered the war of the revolution at eleven years of age as a musician. he served seven years. his discharge is signed by george washington. mr. frank p. catlin is the youngest of fourteen children. he was born in susquehanna county, pennsylvania, in . he was married in to elizabeth dubois, who died in , leaving three sons, charles l., frank e. and fred. mr. catlin was married to his second wife in , who died in , leaving one son, william w. mr. catlin moved to green bay in , to green lake in , and to hudson in , having been commissioned by president taylor as register of the willow river land office. this position he held four years. mr. catlin spent some time traveling in foreign lands. in he removed to ripon, wisconsin, but returned in to hudson, where he still lives. charles y. denniston was born in orange county, new york, in ; graduated at university of vermont in ; studied law in iowa in - , and came to hudson in , where he engaged in real estate and insurance business, in which he has been quite successful. he was married in to maria a. coit, of hudson. mrs. denniston died aug. , . a. e. jefferson.--mr. jefferson came from genesee county, new york, to hudson in . for the past fifteen years he has officiated as cashier of the hudson first national bank. samuel c. symonds was born in , in hooksett, new hampshire. he graduated at the university of vermont in and the ensuing year came to hudson, where he taught school and studied law for three years and afterward engaged in the real estate business and subsequently officiated as county judge four years. he was married in to mary c. bloomer. in he was commissioned postmaster of the city of hudson by president cleveland. john e. glover, an old citizen and successful lawyer of hudson, has gained a prominent position amongst the solid business men of the city by his untiring industry, combined with rare judgment and knowledge of men. in addition to his law business he is an extensive operator in real estate, flouring and lumber mills. lemuel north, a reliable merchant of hudson, a public spirited citizen and a kind hearted man, merits the respect which his townsmen accord him. he has been successful in business. edgar nye, much better known under his _nom de plume_ "bill nye," was born in . when a boy he came west with his parents to the kinnikinic valley. mr. nye studied law and practiced some years in laramie city, wyoming territory, where he obtained a national reputation as a wit from his connection with the laramie newspaper known as the _boomerang._ mr. nye's mirth-provoking sketches have been published in book form. his parents still live at river falls. william thompson price.--mr. price was born in barre, huntington county, pennsylvania, june , . after receiving a fair education, he came west, and in settled in black river falls, wisconsin, where he at once entered upon the occupation of a lumberman. in he was elected to the assembly as a democrat, but on the organization of the republican party in , he united with the organization, with which he remained during the balance of his life. in and he was judge of jackson county; in he was under sheriff. he was a member of the state senate in , , , , , and ; a member of the assembly in ; was collector of internal revenue from to , and held many local offices in his county. for many years he was president of the jackson county bank. in he was elected to the forty-eighth congress; was re-elected in to the forty-ninth, and in to the fiftieth. he died at his home at black river falls, dec. , . he was a man of immense energy and endurance; and was ever ready to do his full share of labor in all places. as a public man he acquitted himself well. in addition to business tact and energy, and practical common sense, he was a public speaker of unusual readiness and ability. in private life he was a generous hearted man, strongly attached to his friends, and greatly respected for his sterling qualities of character. e. b. bundy.--judge bundy was born in broome county, new york, in . he received a common school and academic education and attended one year at hamilton college. he came to dunn county, wisconsin, where he practiced law until , when he was elected judge of the eighth judicial circuit, to which position he was re-elected and is still serving. he stands high in the estimation of his associates and the people as a judge, and not less high in social life. baldwin. this town is coextensive with township , range . it was set off from the township of springfield and organized dec. , . wm. whewell was chairman of the first board of supervisors. baldwin village, located on the west wisconsin railroad, on the west boundary of the township, has a population of eight hundred, about evenly divided between the norwegian and american elements, the latter being principally from vermont. the _bulletin_, a lively weekly paper, established in , is published by b. peachman. the graded school has three departments, with two hundred and twenty-five scholars, under the control of prof. j. e. brainard. the school building cost $ , . a state bank, organized in , has a capital stock of $ , , and a surplus of $ , . f. a. decker is cashier. baldwin has one elevator, of , bushels capacity, two flour mills--one with a capacity of two hundred and fifty barrels per day, built at a cost of $ , ; the other of one hundred and twenty-five barrels, at a cost of $ , ; one creamery, one cheese factory, one tannery, a good town hall, capable of seating six hundred persons, four good church buildings--lutheran, presbyterian, episcopal and congregational--and over thirty stores or shops. the water supply is ample, the village being furnished with public cisterns and wells, and having an excellent fire department, with hook and ladder company. the village is surrounded by a rich agricultural country. woodville village is situated four miles east of baldwin, on the west wisconsin railroad, at the junction of a branch road extending into pierce county. it is the centre of heavy lumbering operations, and is a flourishing village. it has one church. cady. cady is the southeastern township in st. croix county, and occupies township , range . it is drained by eau galle waters. amongst the first settlers were irving gray, charles, john, and brazer bailey. a post office was established near the centre of the town in . d.c. davis was first postmaster. a branch railroad traverses the town from northwest to southeast. there are two lumber mills. the town was organized in . the supervisors were william holman, charles palmer and mead bailey. the village of brookville is on the west line of the town. cylon, including township , range , lies on willow river. it is a rich and populous township, consisting originally of mixed prairie and timber lands. the first settlement in this town was made in . the early settlers were otto natges, j. smith, h. fouks, e. johnson, george goodrich, s. w. beel, and j. tomlinson. the town was organized in . the supervisors were c. a. hall, chairman; john sweet and john gibson. a post office was established in , mrs. john b. gibson, postmistress. the wisconsin central railroad passes through the southwest, and the north wisconsin through the northwest part of the township. there are four church buildings, one on section , one near cylon post office, and two in deer park village. this village, a station located on the north wisconsin railroad, is a wheat buying centre of considerable importance, and has several business houses. the school house is one of the best buildings in the county outside of hudson. the catholics and methodists have churches here. eau galle, township , range , is drained by the eau galle and rush rivers. we have not the date of the first settlement, but it was amongst the earliest in the county. the first settlers were william holman, andrew dickey, joseph barnish, and uriah briggs. the town was organized in , with the following as supervisors: wm. holman, ---- babcock, and ---- mccartney. a post office was established in , of which w. holman was postmaster. mr. holman built a saw mill the same year, the first in the region. there are now six, mostly lumber mills. the township is traversed from north to south by a branch of the west wisconsin railroad. wildwood, a thriving station on this road is the headquarters of the st. croix land and lumber company, a stock company with a capital of $ , . the town of eau galle has one church building belonging to the evangelical society. emerald includes township , range . it is drained by the waters of willow and menomonie rivers, and was originally covered with pine and hardwood timber. it was organized in . the wisconsin central railroad passes through the northeast part of the township and has one station, emerald. a high mound is a conspicuous object near the centre of the township. erin prairie. erin prairie, township , range , lies on willow river. john casey entered the first land in . the first house was built on section , in may, , by john ring. among the settlers of , of whom there were about twenty families, we have the names of michael hughes, peter queenan and james, michael and thomas mcnamara. the town was organized in , with the following board of supervisors: richard joyce, chairman; alexander stevens and peter queenan, and wm. mcnally, clerk. richard joyce was first school teacher and first postmaster. there are now two post offices, one at erin centre village, and the other at jewett's mills, two and a half miles apart. there are at erin centre one store, one wagon shop, one blacksmith shop, and a catholic church; at jewett's mills a store, a saw, a planing and a flour mill, all run by water. there are six good school houses in the township. it is traversed by the wisconsin central railroad. forest, embracing township , range , occupies the northeast corner of the county. it is heavily timbered with pine and hardwoods, is a new town and is fast being converted into an agricultural district. willow river has its sources in this town. it was organized dec. , , with s. d. love as chairman of the first board of supervisors. glenwood, set off from the town of emerald at its organization in , embraces township , range . it was originally a pine and hardwood region. its waters flow eastward into the menomonie. the wisconsin central railroad crosses the township from east to west. its only station is glenwood. it is being rapidly settled and has already some good farms and several saw mills. h. j. baldwin was the chairman of the first board of supervisors. hammond includes township , range . it is drained by tributaries of the rush river. of the first settlers were the peabodys, james r. ismon, rev. wm. egbert, rev. george spalding, mert herrick, john thayer, mrs. adams, john nelson, and thomas byrnes. the town was organized sept. , , with a. g. peabody as chairman of supervisors and john g. peabody, clerk. it is now a prosperous farming town. the west wisconsin railroad passes through the south part of the township. hammond village, located on the line of this road, in sections and , has seven hundred inhabitants. it is situated on a commanding elevation, giving an extended view of the rich farming country surrounding it. it has a school house, built at a cost of $ , , with rooms for three grades, and one hundred and seventy-five scholars, one elevator of , bushels capacity, one first class hotel, the gardiner house, odd fellows', good templars' and grangers' halls, and three church buildings, with parsonages--the catholic, congregational and methodist. the village contains about twenty-five stores and shops. the water supply, on account of the elevation, is from wells and cisterns. rev. george spalding preached the first sermon and was the first merchant in the village. hammond was incorporated sept. , , with j. b. fithian as president of supervisors and john w. owen, clerk. john thayer was born in , in worcester county, massachusetts, from which place he moved to ohio, and, after residing there fifteen years, came to wisconsin and settled at hammond village. he has been twice married, his second wife still living, and has one son, andrew p. the father and son are engaged in merchandising in hammond. rev. wm. egbert was born in , in oneida county, new york. he obtained a common school and academic education. he spent his early life in new york city; came to indiana in and to hammond, wisconsin, in . the first trial in hammond was before mr. egbert, as justice of the peace, in . he has been for forty-one years a local minister in the methodist episcopal church. he has been twice married, his second wife still living. he has four children. hudson. hudson includes sections to , inclusive, of township , range . willow river flows through the northwest part. the north wisconsin and west wisconsin railroads pass through the township. it is one of the handsomest and richest farming townships in the state. it was organized as a town in . its history is given in that of the county of st. croix and in the biographies of its early inhabitants. james kelly was born at osnabruck, ireland, where he grew to manhood. in he came to hudson and located on a farm, where he prospered, and became an honored citizen. in he married catherine, daughter of wm. dailey. he died at turtle lake, barron county, wisconsin, of injuries received from a rolling log, feb. , , leaving a widow, three sons and one daughter. daniel coit was born in vermont in . he learned the trade of a house carpenter; came west as far as galena, illinois, in , to st. croix valley in , and to hudson in . he died in baldwin in . he was a man of eccentric manners, but upright life. james virtue came to willow river mill in , settled in the town of hudson, and died in . theodore m. bradley was born in , in jackson county, illinois. he lived three years in lafayette county, wisconsin; came to osceola mills in , and to hudson in . he has engaged chiefly in farming. in he was married to margaret wilson. they have two sons and three daughters. mr. bradley died in . william dailey was born in cork, ireland, in ; came to america in , and settled in hudson in , where he lived, a successful farmer, until his death in . he left five sons--william, guy w., jacob, edward, and asa, all farmers, industrious and prosperous, all good citizens, and church members, all married and settled in st. croix county. guy w. represented st. croix county in the state assembly of . in he was president of the st. croix agricultural society. robert and william mcdiarmid, brothers, came from st. stevens, new brunswick, and settled in hudson in , on a farm in sections and . by industry and perseverance they have become independent, and own fine farms, with blooded stock, improved agricultural implements, and all the appliances for successful farming. robert married in , and has three sons and three daughters. william married laura rabold, in , and has three sons and four daughters. william has been chairman of the county board of supervisors several years. william martin was born in vermont, in . in he moved to janesville, wisconsin, and in to hudson, where he engaged in farming. he was an exemplary christian man, and a member of the baptist church. his son, geo. w. martin, succeeds him on the farm. he died in . paschal aldrich was born in the state of new york, in ; came to illinois with his parents in ; was married in illinois, to martha harnsberger, in , and came to marine in the same year. he returned, for a short time, to illinois, and again moved to the valley of the st. croix, settling at hudson in , where he died in , leaving three sons and five daughters. kinnikinic originally included nine towns of townships and , from st. croix lake east. by the setting off of pierce county from st. croix, the towns in township were stricken off, and the territory has since been reduced until comprised in township , range . it is a wealthy agricultural township. its surface is agreeably diversified with undulating prairies and high hills. the kinnikinic, a beautiful and clear winding stream, drains it from the northeast. the famous monument rock, an outlying sandstone formation, is in the centre of this township. from the summit a magnificent view may be obtained of this fine farming region. the farmers have fine dwellings and barns, and the town has numerous school houses; one church is located on section . the history of the town, as far as we were able to obtain it, may be found in the biographies of the mapes brothers. duncan mcgregor was born in perth, scotland, in . his educational advantages were limited. he emigrated to canada while yet a youth, served seven years in the british army, and was one year in canada during the papineau rebellion. he was married to jane morse, in canada, jan. , , and in removed to the united states and settled at river falls, where he still lives on the homestead which he pre-empted. mrs. mcgregor was the first resident white woman, and mr. mcgregor the second person who settled at the falls. his mother, an aged lady living with him at the falls, at one time found the house surrounded by over a hundred sioux indians, who commenced plundering the garden of everything eatable. mrs. mcgregor bravely confronted and drove them away. the only crops in the valley at the time were those of messrs. foster and mcgregor. mr. mcgregor learned in early life the trade of a mason. while a resident of river falls he followed farming except during a few years in which he kept a hardware store. he was three years county commissioner of st. croix county. he has three children living, roderick, malcolm and neville. w. b. and jas. a. mapes, brothers, from elmira, new york, landed at willow river sept. , . they proceeded at once with an ox team and cart, on which last was placed all their worldly goods, to the valley of the kinnikinic. having selected a claim and erected a temporary shanty, william b. returned by river as far as galena, for a breaking team, wagon and plow, and other farm furniture and provisions, while james remained to make hay. after the brother's return, a substantial winter cabin was built. the ensuing spring they broke ground and raised a fair crop, consisting of bushels of oats, of buckwheat, of corn and of potatoes. the winter of their arrival, duncan mcgregor came to the settlement and spent the winter with judge foster. in the fall of came ira parks and family, and settled on lands adjoining the mapes farm. this family and others were entertained by the mapes brothers, with genuine frontier hospitality. among the families coming in at this time were those of dr. whipple, mrs. sprague, lorenzo daggett, and the widow of josephus medley, of stillwater. this year came also the pomeroy brothers, luke and frank, from new york state, and j. g. crowns, james penn, and william tozer, from illinois. during several families settled in the valley, among them james chinnoch and elisha walden, from ohio; alanson day and john scott, from pennsylvania; the brothers w. l. and j. e. perrin, single men, from new york state, and mrs. lynch, from illinois. previous to the settlement of these families there were no young ladies in the town. the arrival of fifteen young ladies, mostly marriageable, produced a flutter of excitement among the lonesome bachelors of the colony, and the services of rev. s. t. catlin were soon called into requisition. the first couple married was james a. mapes and eunice e. walden, in . the next year w. b. mapes and catherine scott were married. in j. w. mapes, a younger brother, joined the colony. in g. w. mapes located a mexican war land warrant on adjoining laud. w. b., j. a. and c. w. mapes had also mexican war land warrants. in j. w. mapes sold his farm and returned to new york, enlisted in the one hundred and first pennsylvania volunteers, and served through the peninsular campaign under mcclellan, and afterward in north carolina, where he was captured at plymouth, april , , and taken to andersonville, where he died, june , . w. b. mapes sold his farm to chas. davies and removed to macon county, mississippi, in , at which place he died in . his widow and five children still reside there. c. w. mapes sold his farm to g. i. ap roberts, and kept store for awhile in the village, and in removed to sussex county, virginia, where he still resides. he has four children living. jas. a. mapes still resides on the old homestead. mr. mapes was honored with an election to the office of treasurer for st. croix county in and . pleasant valley. pleasant valley includes the west half of township , range . it is drained by the headwaters of the kinnikinic. the first settlement was made sept. , . among the first settlers were sheldon gray, asa gray, s. w. mattison, and allen webster. the town was organized march , , with peleg burdick as chairman of supervisors. the first school was taught in , by miss mary munson. a post office was established in with peter hawkins as postmaster. richmond. richmond is a rich agricultural township, consisting chiefly of undulating prairie land. it is included in township , range . willow river flows diagonally through it from northeast to southwest. the following persons settled within the present limits of the town prior to : eben quinby, lewis oaks, james taylor, harvey law, norman hooper, j. j. smith, a. s. kinnie, w. r. anderson, francis kelly, clinton boardman, s. l. beebe, the beal brothers, e. p. jacobs and e. w. darnley. the town of richmond was organized in , with the following officers: supervisors, robert philbrick, chairman; c. a. boardman and harvey law; clerk, w. m. densmore; assessor, w. r. anderson; treasurer, g. w. law. the first post office was established at the house of joel bartlett, who served as postmaster. this post office was known as the richmond post office. it was a small affair. the first mail, brought on a mule's back from maiden rock, contained but one letter. the first quarter's commission amounted to but one dollar and fifty-nine cents. the post office case contained but four boxes, five by six inches in size. this case is preserved at the _republican_ office, as an interesting relic. small as was the office, and meagre as were the receipts, the postmaster was able to employ a deputy, f. w. bartlett. by way of agreeable contrast we give the commission for the first quarter of as $ . . boardman village is located on the east bank of willow river and near the western boundary of richmond. it is a flourishing village. its public buildings are a methodist church and a large school house. boardman has a good flour mill. everything in the village bespeaks enterprise and thrift. gridley village was platted by gridley & day in , and, together with fremont village, platted by henry russell, was incorporated in the village of new richmond in . the first officers of the new village were: president, f. w. bartlett; trustees, b. c. b. foster, wellington pierce, thos. porter, peter schore, s. m. bixby, geo. c. hough. new richmond city was incorporated in . it includes the northwest quarter of section and the northeast quarter of section of township , range , and the south half of section , township , range . this latter half section originally belonged to star prairie, but is now attached to new richmond. the first election was held april , , at which the following officers were elected: president, ward s. williams; aldermen, first ward, f. w. bartlett, geo. a. gault, th. gaskell; second ward, a. l. greaton, a. h. stevens, j. c. sabine; third ward, john halversen, d. h. dodge, h. f. fall; treasurer, l. taft; clerk, w. f. mcnally; assessor, d. a. kennedy. the city is beautifully located on a level prairie. the streets are from eighty to one hundred feet wide and bordered with maple, elm and boxwood trees. the city lots and grounds attached to the residences are beautifully adorned with shrubbery and flowers and are without fences. the commons and unoccupied spaces in the city are covered with a luxuriant growth of white and red clover, filling the air with its pleasant odor, and suggesting the title of "clover city." it has many fine business buildings and tasteful residences. it is in the midst of a fine farming country, on the banks of a beautiful stream, willow river, and two railroads, the north wisconsin and wisconsin central, furnish abundant means of communication with the outer world. it has one steam saw mill with a capacity of , feet per day, and a water power flour mill with a capacity of one hundred barrels per day. the bank of new richmond was organized in , with a paid up capital of $ , . in the bank did a business of about $ , , . the bank had a surplus in of $ , . it has an extensive agency in flour, wheat and other agricultural products, also in lumber and real estate. the officers are: president, f. w. bartlett; vice president, mathias frisk; cashier, john w. mccoy. the annual business of the city amounts to $ , , . the city has a high school, established in , with six departments. the building cost $ , . the baptists, catholics, congregationalists, episcopalians, and methodists have church buildings. there are several fraternities here, including the masonic, the odd fellows, good templars, women's christian temperance union and catholic knights of st. john. there are also a hook and ladder company and a library association. there are two cemeteries, one belonging to the masonic order. biographical. benjamin b. c. foster was born in new portland, maine, in . when seventeen years of age he bought his time of his father and commenced life for himself. he lived eight years in atkinson, maine, where he taught school and engaged in farming. in he was married to charlotte s. gilman. in he went to california where he remained three years. he came to new richmond in and built a saw mill and dam, and a board shanty in which he lived with his wife and two children. around the mill has since grown up the beautiful city of new richmond. the first school taught in new richmond was taught at the house of mr. foster by amanda dayton. in his house was organized the first sunday-school, the first sermon was preached in it and the first school meeting was held there. robert philbrick was born in old town, maine, in . he learned the trade of a millwright, and in moved to north hudson. he was married in to frances cook. they stood on a raft, afloat in the st. croix river, just below the falls, while ansel smith, of taylor's falls, performed the ceremony. mr. philbrick removed to new richmond and built a frame house in . the house is still standing. one daughter of mr. philbrick is the wife of d. l. nye. amaziah, a son by his first wife, is a stonemason. alice m., daughter by his first wife, is married to john mcgregor. mr. philbrick died prior to . linden coombs came to new richmond in , built the first hotel in , and some years later moved away. eben quinby was born in lisbon, new hampshire, in , and came to new richmond in , where he has since continuously been engaged in farming. in he was married to mrs. philbrick, widow of robert philbrick. lewis oaks was born in sangerville, maine, in ; came west in and to new richmond in . he is a farmer. henry russell was born in vermont in . his ancestors took part in the revolution. he was married in vermont, lived seventeen years in new york, came to hudson in , and to new richmond in , where he bought the pre-emption made by robert philbrick, and had it surveyed and platted as the village of fremont. he died in . mrs. russell survives him and is now ( ) eighty-five years of age. their sons alexander and austin are prominent citizens of new richmond. joseph d. johnson was born in huron county, ohio, may , . from eight years of age he was thrown upon his own resources. the greater part of his youth was spent in michigan. in he removed to winnebago, illinois, where he married marcella l. russell. he settled at new richmond in . one son, ezra o., is editor of the _northwestern news_, at hayward, wisconsin, and one daughter is married to frank f. bigelow. joel bartlett was born in hebron, maine, in . he received an academic education and became a teacher. he was principal of a high school in bath, maine, before he was twenty-one years of age. in he went to harmony, maine, where he was engaged in lumbering until . in he was a member of the maine legislature; in and he followed lumbering in fairfield, maine, and then removed to new york where he lived six years. in he came to new richmond, where he has since led an active business life. mr. bartlett was married in maine in . one of his sons, j. a., is a presbyterian clergyman in centreville, iowa. he graduated at waterville college, maine, and practiced law three years in new york city before entering the ministry. francis w. bartlett, the second son of joel bartlett, was born in maine in . he received an academic education, and has been an active and successful business man. he came to new richmond in , and served as register of the land office at bayfield from to . he was married in to mary j. stewart, of pennsylvania. he was engaged in the coal trade in milwaukee three years, and two years at detroit and toledo, but returned to new richmond and is now president of the new richmond bank, and dealer in furniture, hardware, etc. george c. hough was born in fairfax county, virginia, in ----. he has led a somewhat adventurous life. he served awhile as a soldier in the black hawk war under gen. dodge. afterward he went to missouri, graduated at the state university, and engaged in lead mining and prospecting. he went to california in , where he practiced law. he returned in , and located in richmond where he still resides. silas staples was born in lisbon, maine, sept. , . he came to hudson, wisconsin, in , took charge of the willow river mills, buying a quarter interest at $ , , including , acres of land on willow river. in he sold his interest to jewell and bodie, of maine, for $ , , and for three years carried on a banking business in hudson. in the winter of - he removed to new richmond. in he returned to hudson and put up a shingle and lath addition to his saw mill. he built a flouring mill at new richmond in . he built large dams on willow river for driving logs, and carried on lumbering operations until , when he removed to canada and carried on milling and lumbering enterprises four years, at collins' inlet, georgian bay. in he returned to hudson and to a farm, and was also engaged with mr. gibson in mercantile business. in he returned to new richmond, and, buying a half interest in the mill, took charge of it for one year, then removed to stillwater and took charge of his brother's (isaac staples) saw mill. in he removed to elk river, minnesota, and took charge of a farm. the next year he returned to new richmond, where he settled his family and bought a half interest in a saw and grist mill at jeweltown. he also built an elevator there with a capacity of , bushels. mr. staples was married in to hannah williams, of bowdoinham, maine, who died in . he was married in to abigail ann rogers of oldtown, maine, who died in the spring of . he was married in the fall of to nancy d. gilman, who died in . he was married to mrs. nancy b. jamison in the fall of . he has six children, charles a., silas g., nellie b., nettie, edward p, and lizzie g. henry m. murdock.--dr. murdock was born at antwerp, new york, in october, . his father, dr. hiram murdock, moved to gunning, at which place the son attended school till he was fifteen years of age. the father moved to pulaski, new york. henry studied medicine with his father until he was nineteen years of age, then attended medical lectures at castleton, virginia, where he graduated at the age of twenty-one. after practicing three years at dexter, and after a co-partnership of seven years with his father in a drug store at pulaski, he came west and settled in stillwater, where he bought the drug store and business of dr. carli. in he went to taylor's falls and practiced medicine until the spring of , when he removed to hudson and formed a partnership with dr. hoyt. in the fall of he accepted the position of assistant surgeon of the eighth wisconsin, and served during the war, having been promoted meanwhile to the position of brigade surgeon. in he removed to new richmond, where he has since resided, having now retired from business. he was twice married, in to cornelia a. sandford, who died childless, and in to sarah j. allan. his children are cornelia a. and henry a. steven n. hawkins was born in galway, ireland, dec. , , but while he was a mere child his parents emigrated to america; remained a few years in connecticut; came west in , and made their home in pleasant valley, st. croix county. his early life was marked by the usual vicissitudes of life in a new country. he tried for a time various occupations--farm work, rafting, sawing lumber, teaching, and, during the later months of the war, was a volunteer soldier. he managed to secure a good education in the common schools and at the river falls academy. he studied medicine and surgery a few months, but devoted himself chiefly to teaching until , when he engaged in a mercantile enterprise at which he continued four years, but at the close of that period found himself obliged to suspend, with an aggregate of $ , against him. this he afterward paid, but he concluded, perhaps wisely, to change his occupation. he studied law, and was admitted to the bar, july, . in this profession he has achieved an enviable success. in he was married to margaret early, of alleghany county, new york. they have had four children, the first of which died in infancy. rush river occupies the east half of township , range . the first settlement was made in . the following came in - : daniel mccartney, amos babcock, joseph king, stephen claggitt and z. travis. the town was set off from kinnikinic and organized in , with daniel mccartney as chairman of the board of supervisors. at his house was held the first election. woodside has one church and several buildings, is near the centre of the town, and new centreville in the southern part. the date of settlement is second to that of hudson. it was traversed by the old hudson and prairie du chien stage route. it was originally a mixed timber and prairie district. somerset occupies sections to , inclusive, of township , range , two sections of township , range , and all of township , range , lying east of the st. croix river. the surface is generally undulating, but along the st. croix and apple rivers abrupt and hilly. the first settlers were french colonists at apple river falls in . they built a school house and catholic church upon the bluffs below the falls. the latter is a conspicuous object as seen from the st. croix river. the falls of apple river, about one and a half miles above its junction with the st. croix, is one of the finest of the wisconsin waterfalls. apple river traverses the county from northeast to southwest. the wisconsin central railroad crosses the southern part. the town of somerset was organized sept. , , with thomas j. chappell as chairman of supervisors. mr. chappell was also appointed postmaster in at apple river falls. somerset village, located about three miles above the falls, has a good improved water power, a flour mill with a capacity of one hundred and fifty barrels per day, and a saw mill, built and owned by gen. sam harriman, the founder of the village. in a church and school house were erected at a cost of about $ , . samuel harriman.--gen. harriman was born in orland, maine. he spent four years in california, engaged in mining and lumbering, and dug the second canal in the state for sluicing purposes. he came to somerset in , and has ever since made it his residence. he is one of the founders and platters of the village, and built most of the houses, including the hotel and two stores on the east side of apple river, and all the dwelling houses on the west side. he has been remarkably successful in the various pursuits to which he has turned his attention, and may well be considered a man of remarkable executive ability. he has a farm of five hundred and fifty-five acres, and his agricultural and stock products are second to none. as a lumberman he has cut , , feet per year. he has a rotary saw mill with a planing, lath and shingle mill attached, and under the same roof he has a flouring mill and six run of stone; he has a large store in which he keeps a general stock of merchandise; he has also a cooper shop, where he makes his own barrels, a warehouse and a blacksmith shop. he has also an excellent stone quarry on his premises. we look in vain for his name in the wisconsin blue book, or among the list of office holders. he has been too busy to turn aside in quest of political preferment. we believe, however, that he was commissioned as notary public by govs. taylor and smith. when men were needed for the defense of the country he left his interests to enlist as a private. his military record is brilliant. he enlisted in company a, thirtieth wisconsin volunteer infantry, june , , was made captain on the organization of the company, which position he held till feb. , , when he was commissioned colonel of the thirty-seventh wisconsin infantry. this regiment was recruited by col. harriman, he having been commissioned for that purpose. its services on many a hard fought field, and especially about petersburg, is a matter of well known history. its most memorable action occurred on the thirtieth of july, just after the explosion of the mine under the enemy's fort. col. harriman, with the thirty-seventh wisconsin, was ordered to occupy the dismantled fort, which he did under a heavy fire, and the walls had been so leveled as to afford but slight protection from the enemy's batteries. while in possession they repelled all attempts to dislodge them until four o'clock the next morning, when, receiving no support, the thirty-seventh regiment, "all that was left of them," fell back to the line. at roll call that evening, of two hundred and fifty men that answered to their names before the action, only ninety-five responded. the remnant of the regiment was attached to a new brigade, of which col. harriman was commissioned commander. on the tenth of september, the war having ended, the tattered flag of the thirty-seventh was returned to the governor of the state and brig. gen. harriman returned to private life and his business enterprises. the general is a genial, kind hearted man, fond of a good joke and story, even though they are at his own expense. he narrates of himself, that when mustered out of the service at washington he was addressed as _general_ harriman; on his way home he was saluted as _colonel_; when nearing wisconsin, he was hailed as _major;_ in the state, as _captain_; in st. croix county and at home as mr. harriman; when met by the boys, they greeted him with "_hello, sam._" st. joseph includes the three lower tiers of sections of township , range , fractions of range , and the six upper sections of township , range . willow river traverses the southeast corner. the surface varies from undulating to hilly. in the eastern part of the town is balsam lake, a picturesque body of water two miles in length. there are also two high elevations of land, or ridges, that serve as conspicuous landmarks. the earliest settlers came in , and located on farms in different parts of the town. st. joseph was organized in . the north wisconsin railroad passes through the southeast corner of the town. houlton. opposite stillwater, on the shore of the lake, is a platted village known as houlton, which has improved much during the last few years. j. s. anderson & co. built a large saw mill at this place, which has changed ownership several times. the residences of the village are on the high bluffs overlooking the lake, and commanding from a point two hundred feet above the level of the water a most magnificent view, including stillwater, hudson and lakeland. burkhardt village is situated upon willow river, just above the falls. joseph bowron and others built a mill here in . the mill property changed hands many times, and finally passed into the hands of burkhardt. in march, , the mill was consumed, with a loss to mr. burkhardt of $ , , an immense loss, representing the earnings of a lifetime; but with tireless energy mr. burkhardt went to work rebuilding, and, it is to be hoped, will soon re-establish his thriving business. there is one church near burkhardt. springfield, at its organization in , embraced its own territory and that of baldwin, set off in . it now includes township , range . it was originally covered with pine and hardwood timber. within the last few years it has been improved and much of the timber land is used for farming. it is drained by the headwaters and tributaries of rush and menomonie rivers. the west wisconsin railroad passes through the southern tier of sections, and a branch road, leading southward into a pine district, has a junction at hersey. most of the early settlers were union soldiers. among them were s. t. adams, thomas ross, isaac burgitt and capt. rogers. springfield was organized nov. , , with j. r. ismon as chairman, and perrin and hall as supervisors. hersey. the village of hersey, located on section , is a station on the west wisconsin and branch railroad, has a lumber mill, and is a flourishing village. wilson village, section , is also a station on the west wisconsin road, and an important manufacturing place. the village is owned and controlled by the wilson manufacturing company, which has a capital stock of $ , . there is one church in the village. stanton was set off from star prairie and organized dec. , , with trueworthy jewell as chairman of supervisors. it is a rich prairie town, well drained by the waters of apple and willow rivers, and well cultivated. the north wisconsin railroad passes southwest to northeast through this town. star prairie village lies partly in this town and partly in the town of star prairie. there are two church buildings in the town of stanton. star prairie, township , range , was organized jan. , . at its organization it included township , ranges and , and north half of township , ranges and . the first election was held at the house of b. c. b. foster, in new richmond. apple river flows through the town from northeast to southwest. cedar lake, in the northeast part, furnishes at its outlet a good water power. among the first settlers were the jewell brothers, ridder and sons. huntington village is located near the outlet of cedar lake and on the stream by which the waters of the lake are borne to apple river. it has a large flouring mill. star prairie village, lying partially in sections and and partially in stanton, has a saw and flouring mill, a hotel, a school house and two churches, with some fine residences. hon. r. k. fay, born in , came from new york to wisconsin in , locating at princeton, where he resided for nine years, most of the time engaged as the principal of the high school at that place. he was a man of sterling character, who is remembered as an able teacher and public spirited citizen. he has been assemblyman from adams and st. croix counties, and a county superintendent of schools, and has taught school forty-nine terms. when a member from st. croix county, he introduced the bill requiring the constitutions of the united states and of wisconsin to be taught in the common schools. he died at his home in star prairie, jan , . five sons and five daughters survive him. his wife died about three years ago. troy, township , range , and fractional township , range , consisting of about three sections, lying along the shore of lake st. croix, has a fine frontage of bluffs overlooking the lake, with rich, level prairie lands stretching away eastward. the kinnikinic river flows through the southeast corner of the township. it was organized in as malone, the name having been chosen by the perrin brothers, who came from malone, new york, in . the name, some years later, was changed to troy. the hudson & ellsworth railroad passes diagonally through the township from northwest to southeast. the village of glenmont, section , township , range , lies on the shore of lake st. croix. it contains a large saw mill, built by the lord brothers. it has since changed hands. the village of east troy, in section , has recently been annexed by legislative enactment to the city of river falls. james chinnock, the first settler in troy, was born in somersetshire, england, in . he officiated twelve years at bristol harbor, england, as superintendent of docks and vessels. he was married in england to harriet owens; came to america in , lived in ohio until , when he came to hudson and immediately located a claim within the present limits of troy. he raised the first crop in the town, and built the first house, of stone, for greater protection from the indians. mr. chinnock made his home upon this farm until his death in . he left a widow and four sons, three of them farmers in troy. one son, james t., has been register of deeds for st. croix county from to . william lewis perrin was born in , and with his brother came to troy in , where he has since lived. he has been a successful farmer and public spirited citizen, and has filled offices in the town organization. he was married in to julia f. loring. they have three sons and one daughter. warren, township , range , is a rich prairie town, drained by the tributaries of kinnikinic and willow river. george longworth and family, of waukegan, illinois, settled here in october, . in the year following, lyman and david sanford, brothers, came from ohio, and made their home here. mr. longworth, in , broke the first ground on land now within the limits of hudson. henry m. sanford came in the spring of . warren was organized as a town in , with the following supervisors: beach sanford, george frissell and seth colbeth; l. j. sanford, clerk. a post office was established in , and mrs. beach sanford was appointed postmistress, at warren village, now roberts. the village of roberts is located on the west wisconsin railroad, which traverses sections to , inclusive, of this town. it contains one elevator, one storage house, one feed mill, one cheese factory, one machine shop, one syrup mill, several stores and shops, one hotel, one school house, one public hall, and one church building belonging to the congregationalists. no intoxicants are sold in the village. the first school was taught in , by jane sanford. james hill was born in hillsborough, new hampshire, feb. , , and settled in warren, st. croix county, in , where he engaged in farming and dealing in grain. he represented st. croix county in the wisconsin assembly of - - . town plats located in st. croix county. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ name of | town | date of plat. | surveyor. | proprietors. village. | location. | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ buena vista |hudson | in | harvey wilson |louis massey & | | | | co. new centreville|rush river | mch. , | geo. strong |daniel | | | | mccartney. hammond |hammond | july , | a. w. miller |hammond & | | | | spaulding. de soto |hudson | aug. , | |aptemards | | | | burkhart. somerset |somerset | aug. , |geo. strong |harriman & reed. glenmont |troy | jan. , |c. n. bates |m. bank, lake | | | | st. cx. huntington |star prairie| sept. , |e. w. mcclure |john brown. gridley, new} | | | | richmond and} |richmond | | |gridley & day. fremont } | | | | troy |troy | dec. , |j. a. short |cox & powell. boardman |richmond | july , |w. r. anderson |beebe & | | | | boardman. star prairie |star prairie| june , |john mcclure |simonds & | | | | millard. baldwin |baldwin | mch. , |h. j. baldwin |d. r. bailey. roberts |warren | jan. , |geo. strong |comstock, platt | | | | & co. deer park |cylon | jan. , |j. w. remmington|j. a. humbird. new saratoga} | | | | springs } |stanton | sept. , |john mcclure |a. p. muggey. hersey |springfield | dec. , |geo. strong |l. t. adams. cylon |cylon | sept. , |alfred pierce |beebe & | | | | mcnarama. emerald |emerald | july , |alfred pierce |hurd brothers. glenwood |glenwood | jan. , |h. j. baldwin |glenwood manf. | | | | co. wilson |springfield | | |west wis. manf. | | | | co. woodville |baldwin | | |woodville lumber | | | | co. wildwood |eau galle | | |st. cx. l. & | | | | manf. co. brookville |eau galle | | |wood & decker. houlton |st. joseph | not recorded | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ chapter vii. pierce county. this county, named in honor of president pierce, was separated from st. croix county in , and organized by the same act that created polk county, and gave to st. croix its present limits. it contains about six hundred square miles of territory, lying east of the mississippi river and lake st. croix. it is somewhat triangular in shape, the river and lake forming the hypotenuse, and st. croix, dunn and pepin bounding it by right lines on the north and east, pepin also forming a small part of its southern boundary. the scenery is picturesque and varied. along the river and lake is a series of limestone bluffs, broken at intervals by ravines and valleys, and leaving the impression upon the mind of the traveler on the mississippi of a rough, broken and inhospitable country, than which nothing could be further from the truth. beyond these rugged escarpments of limestone and out of sight of the traveler, the country stretches away toward the interior as an undulating prairie, with meadows and rich pasturelands, with occasional forests, the whole watered and drained by an intricate network of streams tributary to the lake and river, and the three larger streams, the kinnikinic, which empties into the st. croix and big rivers, trimbelle and rush, that empty into the mississippi. some branches of the chippewa also take their rise in this county. these streams uniformly have their source in springs and their waters are consequently pure, cold and invigorating, flowing over beds of white sand or pebbles, and in their downward course forming many ripples, rapids, cascades and some beautiful waterfalls. their total descent to the bed of the mississippi is about four hundred feet. pierce county has no inland lakes within its limits, nor any indications of their previous existence. the soil is formed chiefly from decomposed rocks or ledges worn down by the abrading forces of water and wind, of frost and heat. the rivers in their downward course have excavated broad valleys, having originally precipitous bluffs on either side, and even bluffs once islands in the midst of the streams. these, by later agencies, have been smoothed to gentle slopes and rounded into graceful mounds, towering sometimes as much as eighty feet above the valley or plains. in some places mere outlines of sandstone or limestone rock are left, turret-like, on the summit of a mound, as monuments on which the geologist may read the record of ages gone. as the character of the soil of a country depends upon the composition of the rocks underlying it, and those removed from the surface, reduced to soil and widely distributed, we give what may be considered as the section of any one of the mounds near prescott in the order of the superposition of strata: at the base--lower magnesian limestone feet. above the plain--upper sandstone feet. on the summit--trenton, or shell limestone feet. over a great part of the county the trenton and limestone are worn almost entirely away, and their former existence is attested only by a few mounds, bluffs and outlines. drift is not often met with. the soil may be considered as formed out of drift, now removed from its original position, and out of the sandstone and limestone. it is, therefore, soil of the richest quality. by the same act that created the county of pierce, passed march , , prescott was declared the county seat. the town board of prescott was constituted the county board. the commissioners were osborn strahl, chairman; silas wright and sylvester moore. at the first county election, nov. , , one hundred and ten votes were cast. the following were the officers elected: county judge, w. j. copp; sheriff, n. s. dunbar; treasurer, j. r. freeman; clerk of court, s. r. gunn; clerk of board, henry teachout; coroner, j. olive; district attorney, p. v. wise; surveyor, j. true; register of deeds, j. m. whipple. mr. whipple was authorized to transcribe the records of st. croix county up to date of the organization of pierce. the first assessment in the county, in , amounted to $ , . at the meeting of the supervisors, jan. , , the district attorney was allowed forty dollars per annum as salary. courts were held wherever suitable buildings could be obtained. during this year judge wyram knowlton, of prairie du chien, held the first district court at prescott. the first records of the court were kept on sheets of foolscap paper, and fastened together with wafers. the first case before the court was that of "the state of wisconsin, pierce county, wm. woodruff _vs._ chas. d. stevens, august lochmen, and chas. peschke, in court of said county. in equity." on reading and filing the bill in complaint, in this case, on motion of s. j. r. mcmillan and h. m. lewis, solicitors for counsel, j. s. foster, it was ordered that a writ of injunction be issued in the case, pursuant to the prayer of said bill, upon said complainant. some one, in his behalf, filed with the clerk of said court, a bond for damages and costs in the sum of $ , , with surety to be approved by the clerk or judge of said court. the first document recorded in the county is an agreement between philander prescott and philip aldrich, wherein aldrich agrees to occupy lands adjoining prescott's, at the mouth of st. croix lake on the west, and david hone on the east. the second document is a deed, conveying a tract of three hundred and twenty acres of land from francis chevalier to joseph r. brown, the land lying near the mouth of lake st. croix, and marked by stakes planted in the ground, and adjoining francis gamelle's claim, dated july , . in county treasurer ayers became a defaulter to the county in the sum of $ , . , and to the prescott bank, $ , . in , by act of the legislature, the question of changing the county seat from prescott to ellsworth was submitted to the people. the vote as declared was six hundred for removal and three hundred and seventy-three against it. technical objections having been raised as to the legality of the vote, the subject was submitted to the people a second time in . the vote for removal was confirmed. in the district system was adopted and three districts were established by legislative enactment, but in the county returned to the original system by which the board of supervisors was made to consist of a chairman from each one of the town boards. a poor farm was established near ellsworth in , at a cost of $ , . the county board also appropriated $ , for county buildings at ellsworth. the finances of the county have been admirably managed. in there was no indebtedness, and a surplus in the treasury of $ , . the educational interests are well cared for. there are over one hundred school districts in the county, with well conducted schools, and generally with good substantial buildings. the school lands of st. croix, then including pierce county, were appraised in by dr. otis hoyt, ---- denniston and james bailey, and the lands at once offered for sale. settlers' rights were respected. the county issued $ , in bonds to aid in establishing the normal school at river falls. railroads. river falls has direct communication with hudson by a branch of the chicago & st. paul railroad. in the burlington & northern railroad route was surveyed and established, entering the county on the shore of lake pepin, and running nearly parallel with lake and river to prescott, where it crosses lake st. croix near its mouth, on a bridge, the total length of which is . feet, with one draw span . feet in length, and one piled span of feet. this bridge was completed, and the first train entered prescott, may , . the grade of this road does not exceed fifteen feet to the mile. miscellaneous statistics. the grand army of the republic have posts at the following places: no. , a. w. howard post rock elm. no. , i. m. nichols post river falls. no. , ellsworth post ellsworth. no. , r. p. converse post prescott. no. , u. s. grant post maiden rock. no. , plum city post plum city. the following are the village plats of pierce county, with date of survey and location: prescott, town of prescott kinnikinic, town of river falls monte diamond (diamond bluff), town of diamond bluff saratoga, town of isabelle river falls (greenwood and fremont), town of river falls maiden rock, town of maiden rock warren, town of maiden rock trimbelle, town of trimbelle franklin, town of trimbelle martell (rising sun), town of martell beldenville, town of trimbelle trenton, town of trenton plum city, town of union el paso, town of el paso esdaile, town of hartland rock elm, town of rock elm centre hogan, town of trenton bay city, town of isabelle organization of towns. the following is the chronological order in which the towns of pierce county were organized: prescott[b]. greenwood (now river falls) martell isabelle trimbelle diamond bluff clifton oak grove perry (ellsworth) spring valley (maiden rock) trenton el paso hartland union salem rock elm deerfield (gilman) spring lake clifton, situated in the northwestern part of the county, contains a little over thirty full sections of land, those on the st. croix having a somewhat irregular boundary. the surface is somewhat broken where traversed by the kinnikinic and its tributaries. it includes twenty-four sections on the west side of township , range , and fractional township , range . it was established in . its first board of officers were: supervisors--geo. w. mcmurphy, chairman; osborne strahl and g. w. teachout. c. b. cox was the first postmaster, in , at a place called clifton mills, from which the town afterward derived its name. this post town is situated on the kinnikinic, in section , township , range west. it has one grist mill and two saw mills, belonging to cox, king & goodsall. no intoxicants are sold here. the glenwood saw mills, having a capacity of , , feet, are located on the lake shore. in a limestone quarry was opened on the lake shore, by oakley & nichols. in the firm became oakley & hall. they have a patent kiln and good machinery, and some seasons have manufactured as much as , barrels of lime. george w. mcmurphy was born at newcastle, delaware, in . in he came to st. croix falls, and in to clifton, where he pre-empted the beautiful homestead which he still holds, and where he has successfully followed the business of farming. he has been repeatedly elected to town and county offices. in he was married to maria a. rice. their children are augustus (resident of st. paul), george (a physician living in ortonville, minnesota), james a., robert, albert and edward, and two married daughters. mr. mcmurphy is a member of the congregational church. osborne strahl was born in belmont county, ohio, in ; came to galena, illinois, in , in to mauston and stevens point, wisconsin, and to chippewa falls in . during these years he followed lumbering. in he came to the town of elisabeth, st. croix county, which on subsequent division of towns and counties left mr. strahl in clifton, where he has been engaged in farming. he was married in to rebecca mcdonald. they have two sons, wm. day, living in dakota, howard p., in river falls; three daughters, mabel, wife of joseph m. smith, banker at river falls, and two daughters unmarried. mr. strahl filled various town and county offices. charles b. cox was born june , , in chenango county, new york. he learned the trade of a miller, lived in ohio seventeen years and came to clifton in . he built at clifton the first saw and grist mill in the kinnikinic valley, in . he changed his residence to river falls in , where he lived till , when he removed to california. during the year he ground three hundred bushels of wheat, the sole product of the valley. ephraim harnsberger was born in kentucky, nov. , , moved with his parents to illinois in , and to prescott in , where he pre-empted a homestead of one hundred and sixty acres. he was married at alton, illinois, in , to lizzie johnson. their children are charles, sarah etta, and jennie. diamond bluff is a triangular shaped town, the hypotenuse being formed by the mississippi river. it contains ten sections and three fractional sections in town , range , and five sections and five fractional sections in town , range . it is traversed in the eastern part by trimbelle river. the town was established in , and the first town meeting was held that year at the home of david comstock. the town board consisted of: supervisors--james akers, chairman; wilson thing and c. f. hoyt; justice, s. hunter. susan rogers taught the first school. this town has the honor of claiming the first white settler, aside from traders, in the upper mississippi valley. he came to the site of the present village of diamond bluff in , and named it monte diamond. we give elsewhere a somewhat extended account of this ancient pioneer, with some speculations concerning him and his descendants that are plausible enough to warrant their insertion. in historic times a post office was established here in , called at the time, hoytstown, from c.f. hoyt, the first postmaster. on the organization of the town the name was changed to diamond bluff. quite a village has since grown up around it. the first frame house was built in , by enoch quinby. the first sermon was preached by rev. j. w. hancock, a presbyterian minister, for some years a missionary among the indians. the first birth was that of mary day, in , and the first death that of daniel crappers, in . capt. john paine.--jack paine, as he is familiarly called, was born in england, and for the greater part of his life has been a seafaring man. for the past thirty years he has been a steamboat man on the ohio, mississippi and missouri rivers. he has been married three times: first in rhode island, second to mrs. la blond, of st. louis, and last to miss ressue, of diamond bluff. he came to diamond bluff in , with four children of his first wife, his second wife having died childless. he is now living with his third wife in la crosse. they have three children. john day was born in martinsburg, virginia. in he and his wife and three children, with allen b. wilson and his wife, came to diamond bluff. mr. day is well known as a fearless and enthusiastic hunter. in he had a close encounter with a large black bear, which, after a desperate struggle, he killed with an axe. the indians considered mr. day as "waukon," supernatural, averring that their bravest warriors would not have attacked singly so large an animal. sarah a. vance, the wife of mr. day, was born in kentucky. the vance family were famous pioneers, and some of them were noted methodist preachers. miss vance's first marriage was to john r. shores, by whom she had two children, one of whom, isabella, became the wife of a. r. wilson. allen r. wilson.--mr. wilson was born in kentucky; spent his early boyhood in shawneetown, illinois; was married to miss shores at potosi, wisconsin, april , , and in came to diamond bluff. mr. wilson took great interest in politics, was an ardent republican, and was among the first to volunteer his services for the suppression of the rebellion in . he enlisted in company b, sixth regiment, wisconsin volunteers, and fell in battle, sept. , , at south mountain. mr. wilson was well informed, a close observer of political events at home and abroad, and was a brave and efficient soldier. he left five children. e. s. coulter.--mr. coulter is a virginian by birth. in early manhood he traveled extensively as a book agent, and finally settled at diamond bluff, where he successfully engaged in farming and dealing in wheat and merchandise. james bamber, ex-musician in the british and united states armies. jacob mead, ex-shoemaker, ex-soldier and miner, a man of superior natural and acquired talent. charles walbridge came to diamond bluff in . jacob mead died in , leaving a large property. charles f. hoyt, with his wife and one child, came to diamond bluff from illinois, in . enoch quinby was born at sandwich, new hampshire; was married to matilda leighton, originally from athens, maine. mr. quinby and his wife came from pittsfield, illinois, to diamond bluff in . the first settler. there is a pretty well grounded tradition that the first white man who found his way to diamond bluff was a french vendean loyalist of the army of jacques cathelineau; that he fled from france in or , landed at quebec, and was traced by his enemies to mackinaw and chicago, where they lost his trail. he came to diamond bluff in , and named it "monte diamond." he had for his housekeeper the daughter of an indian chief. he died here about . after his death the indians always called the place the "old white man's prairie." e. quinby, of diamond bluff, to whom we are indebted for this account, adds: "all the additional evidence i can give in regard to this pioneer is that prior to his wife died, leaving him one daughter, who was deformed. a former friend of his had a beautiful daughter of about the same age of his own. after the uprising and defeat of the vendeans, they became enemies, and he, to save his life, took his former friend's daughter, instead of his own, and fled to this country. the father pursued them as far as chicago, where he saw his daughter in company with some indian girls, and having on her person some ornaments once worn by her mother. he at once seized her and carried her back with him to france, and the old frenchman found his way to diamond bluff." faribault's son,[c] now living somewhere in minnesota, wrote me a few years since, inquiring about the old frenchman, saying that his grandmother claimed that her husband was a french nobleman, and that he lived near lake pepin. he believed the old frenchman was his grandfather. the above statements were communicated to the late capt. orin smith, of galena, illinois, allen b. wilson and myself, in , or in , by an old frenchman then residing at potosi, wisconsin, who claimed to have seen and gathered these facts from the old man himself. capt. smith was well acquainted with the frenchman at potosi, and gave the fullest credence to his account. el paso occupies township , range . it is drained chiefly by rush river and its tributary, lost creek, on the west. the two post villages in this town are, el paso, located in section , and lost creek, in section . george p. walker was the first settler. he built the first house and raised the first crop; thomas t. magee came in . in the town was organized, thomas hurley and geo. p. walker being supervisors. in mr. magee built a saw and flour mill in section , and platted the village of el paso. in he removed to clear lake, polk county, of which town he was the first settler. clara green taught the first school in el paso, in . there is one catholic and one lutheran church in the village. the name el paso signifying a crossing, is of somewhat obscure derivation. ellsworth was organized under the name of perry, march , , but in it received its present name. it occupies a central position in the county and includes township , range . this is a rich farming town, originally timbered with hardwood. the surface is elevated and gently undulating. it is drained on the east by the tributaries of rush river, but has no large or important streams. the first supervisors were: p. m. simons, chairman; caleb bruce and wilson kinnie. the first settler was anthony huddleston, who came april , , and pre-empted the southeast quarter of section . on november th, of the same year, came caleb, elihu w. and eli t. bruce, who pre-empted farms on sections and . during the same year wilson and norris kinnie and david klingensmith pre-empted farms in sections and . lilly, miscen, russ, and campbell came also in . the first log house in the town was built by anthony huddleston in . norris kinnie built the first in what was afterward the village of ellsworth. the first school house, a log building, built was in , and mary filkins, now mrs. g. h. sargeant, of minnesota, taught the first school. the first marriage was that of charles stannard and mary leonard, in . the first birth, that of the twin children of wilson. both died. the first death of an adult was that of mrs. jacob youngman in the winter of . the post office was opened in , with seely strickland as postmaster. ellsworth village. the original owners of the southern half of section , and the northern half of , norris kinnie, eli t. bruce, henry p. ames, and wm. crippin laid out and platted the village of ellsworth in . wm. crippin, built a frame hotel there in . c. s. dunbar opened a store in . the prospect of ellsworth becoming the county seat gave a great impetus to business enterprises. this was decided by a popular vote in , but owing to some technical defects was resubmitted to the people of the county in , and then definitely decided. in the year the citizens of ellsworth built a log house in which the first terms of court were held; meanwhile the county officers had their offices in the basement of crippin's hotel. the permanent county buildings were not erected until . they are built of stone and cost $ , . in a frame schoolhouse took the place of the old log structure, and in a commodious brick building was erected, at a cost of $ , . the methodists, lutherans and catholics have church buildings. there is one newspaper, the _pierce county herald_, edited by e. f. case and e. s. doolittle. the barnes saw mill built in , burned down and rebuilt, has a capacity of about , feet per day. a branch railroad, built from hudson to river falls, was extended to ellsworth in . the depot is one mile from the village. the pierce county central fair grounds, containing seventeen acres, are located near the village. the grounds are inclosed and are covered with a fine maple grove, in the midst of which is a large flowing spring. d. w. woodworth was first president of the fair association. ellsworth has two handsome cemeteries, maplewood and the catholic. the village itself is beautifully situated on an elevated plateau originally covered with hardwood timber. the streets are tastefully adorned with maple trees. anthony huddleston.--mr. huddleston is of irish descent. he was born in west virginia in ; had but limited educational privileges; lived for a part of his life in ohio and indiana, and settled in ellsworth in , being the first settler in the town. he was a house carpenter for over sixty years. he was a member of the dunkard church sixty-two years. he was married in , in ripley, indiana, to susannah whetstone. they have three sons and six daughters living. perry d. pierce was born in harpersfield, delaware county, new york. he traces his lineage to ancestors who came across in the mayflower and landed at plymouth rock. he received an academic education, studied law with a. reckor, oswego, new york, and was admitted to practice at cooperstown in , practiced in albany three years, and in came to the st. croix valley, locating first at prescott, where he served as district attorney for four years, and county judge eight years. he was married in , to lua e. searsdall. he is now a resident of ellsworth. [illustration: _very respectfully hans b. warner_] hans b. warner, of ellsworth, pierce county, was born at gulbrandsdalen, norway, july , ; received a common school education; is by occupation a farmer; emigrated and settled in dodge county, wisconsin, in , and thence removed to pierce county in , where he has since resided. he enlisted in march, , as a private, in company g, thirty-seventh regiment, wisconsin volunteer infantry; was wounded and captured in front of petersburg, virginia, july , , and was held a prisoner of war in danville and libby prisons until paroled, september, ; was discharged from service on account of wounds received in battle july , . he has held various local offices, and the position of county clerk of pierce county from january, , to dec. , , when he resigned, to assume the duties of secretary of state, to which office he was elected in , and was re-elected in , serving in all four years. he was elected to the state senate in and served until . his home business is farming and real estate. he was married in , to julia e. hudson. gilman. the town of gilman includes township , range . the postal villages are gilman, section , and olivet, section . gilman was organized as the town of deerfield, in , but in the name was changed to gilman. the first supervisors were oliver purdy, caleb coon, bardon jensen. the first school was taught in , by m. l. maxgood. a norwegian lutheran church was built in , at a cost of $ , . there are six school houses with an aggregate cost of $ , . the first marriage was that of caleb coon and cenith preston, in . the first birth was a child of this married couple. the first death was that of mrs. rufus preston. the first post office was at gilman, u. f. hals, postmaster. the first settlers were b. f. gilman, in , still a resident; n. b. lawrence, soon after, now removed; rufus preston and family; joseph and caleb coon and families, in , still resident. j. r. maxgood, b. jensen and son, e. b. jensen, the matthieson brothers, z. sigursen, h. bredahl, s. j. goodell, nels gulikson, m. o. grinde, albert martin, p. vanosse, and t. b. forgenbakke are among the oldest citizens. hartland. hartland occupies township , range . it has one post village, esdaile. it has one saw mill and a factory for the manufacture of hubs and bent wood work, operated by charles betcher, of red wing, minnesota, which gives employment to seventy-five men and ten teams the year round. the village of esdaile has also two general merchandise stores and a hotel. hartland was organized in . the first supervisors were a. harris, chairman; joseph sleeper and r. m. sproul. amongst the first settlers were augustus e. hodgman, section , ; james buckingham, section , ; lewis buckmaster, section , . the first school was taught in , by mary ann stonio. the first post office was at esdaile, hiram patch, postmaster. there are three church organizations, presbyterian, methodist and lutheran (norwegian), with buildings valued at from $ to $ , . there are nine school houses, ranging in cost from $ to $ , . the good templars have an organization. isabelle. isabelle consists of the two upper tiers of section , township , range , the lower tier being much broken in outline by lake pepin on the south. it contains also fractions of sections in the third tier. bay city, on the shore of the lake, is the postal town. it was organized in . in it was annexed to hartland, but in it was re-established. the first chairman of supervisors was john buckingham. the election was held at the house of abner brown. charles r. tyler and lorenzo d. philips settled here in , and built a saw mill where now stands the thriving village of bay city. saratoga plat was laid out upon this ground in , by a. c. morton. a. j. dexter was the original claimant of the land. mr. morton purchased the land which covered a part of bay city from the government. a surveyor named markle was employed by morton to run the lines, which mr. dexter considered an intrusion upon his rights, and he shot markle. dexter was tried before judge s. s. n. fuller, in , was convicted, and sentenced to prison for life. after a few years he was pardoned by gov. barstow. maiden rock. maiden rock occupies the four upper tiers of sections of township , ranges and , except such portions on the southwestern corner as are cut off by lake pepin. it contains about forty sections. the town was organized under the name of spring valley, in . its postal villages are maiden rock, on the lake shore, section , range , and warren, also on the lake shore, section , range . the site of maiden rock village was purchased from the government in , by albert harris and j. d. trumbull. in they erected the first house, and in built a saw and shingle mill. j. d. trumbull platted the village in , and christened it maiden rock, from the celebrated rock of that name a few miles further down the lake. among the first settlers in the village were j. h. steel, j. d. brown, john foster, and joseph b. hull. the first hotel was run by g. r. barton, in a house built by j. d. trumbull. this hotel has since been enlarged and is now the lake view house. the first marriage was that of a. j. smith and corinda eatinger, in ; the first birth was that of ida trumbull, in , and the first death that of william trumbull, in . the first school was taught by lottie isabel, of batavia, illinois. the first sermon was preached by rev. james gurley, a methodist preacher from north pepin. a post office was established in , of which j. d. trumbull was postmaster. the receipts the first year were eleven dollars, the expenses, fifty dollars, paid by the postmaster. the town of maiden rock has six school houses, one saw and one grist mill. christopher l. taylor was born in oneida county, new york, in ; came to chicago at an early day, and to maiden rock in , where he engaged in manufacturing. he served as county supervisor for eight years, and as member of the wisconsin legislature in . he removed to st. paul in , where he still resides. he is a dealer in real estate. martell. martell occupies township , range . joseph martell, john dee, louis lepau and xerxes jock, frenchmen, were the first settlers. they located here in , and remained till , when they moved further west, allured by the attractions of frontier life. martell was organized in , with the following supervisors: amos bonesteel, chairman; m. statten and r.j. thompson. the first school was taught in , by w. bewel. martell is the postal village. the first postmaster was o. rasmunson. there are two evangelical lutheran churches in the town, built at a cost of $ , and $ , . there is also a good town hall, valued at $ . the martell mutual insurance company is in successful operation. oak grove. oak grove includes township , range (with the exception of section and parts of and ), and six sections of range , in all about forty sections. it is drained by big river. it was set off from clifton in . hart broughton was the first chairman of supervisors. it contains a flouring mill on big river; catholic, lutheran, and methodist church buildings; that of the catholic cost $ , , and has a school attached. there are seven school houses. big river is the postal village. john berry was first postmaster. the first settlers were ( ) the thing brothers, the harnsberger brothers, the cornelius brothers, rice, schaser, mcmurphy, rissue, and the miner brothers. lewis m. harnsberger was born in kentucky, april , , and moved with his parents to illinois, where he lived nine years. he came to prescott in , and pre-empted a farm in oak grove, where he has since continuously resided. he has filled many public positions creditably. he was married to annie jeffreys, of illinois, in . their sons are ephraim, lewis and john. prescott city is beautifully located at the junction of the st. croix and mississippi rivers. the business portion of the city is on a terrace at the base of the bluff, and between it and the river and lake. the public buildings, churches, school house and residences are chiefly on the upper terrace, or bluff, and command an extensive view of the valley of the two rivers, the whole forming a landscape of unrivaled beauty. the advantages of the position are by no means limited to its picturesque surroundings. prescott, from its position at the junction of the two rivers, was early recognized as an important point for the reshipping of freight and re-embarkation of passengers. the st. croix, which comes in from the north, rises within a few miles of lake superior, and after running a course of two hundred miles, empties its waters into lake st. croix, twenty-four miles above its outlet. the lake is navigable at all times to stillwater and to taylor's falls at the dalles. the mississippi comes in from the northwest, and is navigable to st. paul, a distance of thirty miles. the two channels at the junction are each about , feet wide, with an average depth of fifteen feet, and the banks slope to the water's edge, or stand in some places in vertical ledges, thus forming a natural quay along the entire front of the city. the quay, or landing, is semicircular in shape, the upper terrace, or bench, about one hundred feet in height, is likewise semicircular, the convexity being toward the river and lake. the crest of the terrace is worn down by the rains into ravines, leaving rounded points, or promontories, on the summit of which the ancient mound builders have left traces of their peculiar art. the first settlement of prescott was made by philander prescott, col. thompson, dr. emerson, and capt. scott, the three last named being army officers at fort snelling. mr. prescott, acting as agent for the others, made the claim in , remaining three years to hold it, when it was left in the care of joseph mosier until . in seven acres were broken and fenced, constituting the entire landed improvements within the present bounds of pierce county. in one hundred and fifty acres were improved. geo. schaser and h. doe were the first resident farmers. from to a trading post for indian supplies was kept by persons holding the claim. w. s. lockwood opened a store in , and other improvements were made. as the army officers were called to other fields of labor, mr. prescott soon found himself in sole possession of the original claim, he purchasing their interests, and in , when the lands had been surveyed by the government, he entered sixty-one acres. in dr. o. t. maxon and w. j. copp purchased a greater part of the town site and surveyed and platted it as the city of prescott. a charter was obtained in . a post office had been established here in , called the "mouth of st. croix," but it was removed across the lake and named point douglas. the post office was re-established at prescott in . dr. o. t. maxon was first postmaster. the number of persons who came that year to prescott is estimated at about one hundred and fifty.[d] mr. schaser platted an addition to the city of sixty-one acres in . when the city received its charter the following officers were elected: mayor, j. r. freeman; aldermen, first ward, n. s. dunbar, thomas dickerson and seth ticknor; second ward, hilton doe, george w. oakley, n. a. miller; president of the council, seth ticknor; justices of the peace, i. t. foster, o. edwards; city attorney, p. v. wise; city surveyor, wm. howes; superintendent of schools, thomas dickerson. wm. schaser built the first frame house, and mrs. wm. schaser was the first white woman. their daughter eliza was the first white child born in the new settlement. the first marriage was that of g. w. mcmurphy to a daughter of mr. rice, april , . the first death was that of w. s. lockwood, in . when the county of pierce was organized prescott was designated as the county seat, and so remained until , when, by popular election, ellsworth was chosen. in messrs. silverthorn & dudley started a saw mill, which they operated until , when mr. dudley purchased his partner's interest, and erected a flouring and saw mill. a wagon and carriage manufactory was established by f. menicke, in , the prescott brewery in , by n. p. husting, and the prescott machine shops in , by h. b. failing. the city bank of prescott was organized in , charles miller, president; w. p. westfall, cashier; capital stock, $ , . it closed in . the national bank was established in , by w. s. miller. the first school in pierce county was taught by a missionary named denton, at prescott, in . in miss oliver taught a private school. in the first district school was established. the school board were: directors, m. craig, george w. mcmurphy; treasurer, n. s. dunbar; clerk, dr. o. t. maxon; teacher, miss matthews. the first school house was built in . a building for a graded school was erected in . a high school building was erected in , at a cost of $ , . the first religious society was that of the methodists, organized in , under the labors of rev. norris hobart. their first building was erected in . its dimensions were × feet, ground plan. in they erected a building × feet, ground plan, at a cost of $ , . in the baptist church was organized by rev. e. w. cressy. in the congregationalists organized, with rev. p. hall as pastor, and in built a brick church, × feet, ground plan. in the presbyterians organized, and in built a church. the lutheran church was organized in , by rev. c. thayer. under the preaching of rev. m. guild the episcopal church was organized in . previous to this date revs. breck, wilcoxson and peabody had labored from time to time. the catholic church was organized by rev. father vervais in . in a church edifice was built. the following social and benevolent orders have organizations in prescott: northwestern lodge, a. f. and a. m organized prescott lodge, i. o. o. f " lodge no. , i. o. g. t " prescott juvenile temple, no. " prescott temple of honor " converse post, g. a. r. " pierce county agricultural society, o. t. maxon, president " the agricultural society has fair grounds just east of the city, well arranged, with a half mile race track, and buildings in good condition. fairs are held annually. pine glen cemetery is situated on the bluff half a mile below the city. it was established in . nature has done much for the site. the view of the mississippi valley is unobstructed for a distance of from twelve to twenty miles on the south, and to the bend of the river bluffs above hastings. the grounds are handsomely laid out and adorned with shrubbery. destructive fires. prescott has suffered severely from fires. the following is a partial list of losses: lowry & co., saw mill loss $ , todd & horton's mill " , stevens, lechner & co. ( ) " , fire on main street ( ) loss $ , fire on main street ( ) " , fire on main street ( ) " , redman, cross & co., flour mills ( ) " , the latter was insured for $ , . total loss, nearly $ , . biographical. philander prescott was born in , at phelpstown, ontario county, new york. late in the year he came to fort snelling and remained there, or in the vicinity, the greater part of his life. from his constant association with the indians, especially with the sioux, he learned to speak their language. he was also related to them by his marriage with a sioux woman. this fact, added to his influence among them, and being a man not only of a high character for integrity, but well educated and intelligent, he was able to render the officers of the fort much service. he made a translation into the sioux dialect of a number of english and french hymns for the use of the mission schools near prescott. he gave his children an english education. in , while acting as indian interpreter, he came to the present site of prescott, and in conjunction with several officers of the fort, he acting as their agent, laid claim to considerable territory, and made some improvements in the shape of log buildings. when the army officers were sent to other posts, mr. prescott purchased their interests and held the claim. in , after the government survey, he pre-empted sixty-one acres and laid out what he called the city of prescott. he resided here and at the fort alternately until his death, which occurred in . he had been sent by the government on a peace mission to the indians in rebellion, met them at a point near mankato, and was cruelly assassinated by those to whom he had ever proven a true friend, and whom he had every reason to suppose friendly to him. george schaser is a native of austria, and came to the mouth of the st. croix in . in he returned to st. louis and married christine bucher. mrs. schaser was the first white woman resident in prescott. mr. schaser built the first frame house in the settlement, in . this house was regarded for many years as the finest house between prairie du chien and st. paul. in mr. schaser surveyed an addition to prescott on land he had pre-empted in . in he built the brick hotel known as the st. nicholas. mr. schaser died may , , leaving a widow, three sons and one daughter. his sons are henry, edward and george a. his daughter emma was married to capt. john e. ball (deceased ). an older daughter, eliza, the first child born in pierce county, was married to e. w. haviland, and died in , near new orleans. william s. lockwood, a native of new york state, came to prairie du chien in , and to prescott in . the year following his family followed. mr. lockwood died in . his widow, georgiana barton, was married to orange b. walker, of marine mills, and died at marine, oct. , . james monroe bailey was born in , in sullivan county, new york, where his youthful days were passed. he came to prescott in , where he has since been engaged in farming, mercantile and real estate business. he was married in , in prescott, to nettie crippin. they have one son, victor, and two daughters, myrtle, wife of e. l. meacham, of prescott, and jessamine. mr. bailey has a very pleasant home in prescott. he has filled various offices, among them that of treasurer and clerk of st. croix county, prior to the organization of pierce. adolph werkman was born in germany in ; came to america in , and to prescott in . he was married at prescott in . joseph manese (alias joseph abear) was of french extraction and a native of lower canada. while yet a youth he came into the lake superior region, where he was employed most of his time in hunting and trapping by the fur companies. his history, if written in full, would abound in stirring incidents and adventures. he was a man of unusual strength and activity, and in disposition light hearted, vivacious and gay even to hilarity. he died in prescott in . hilton doe was a native of new york state, and came to red wing, as indian farmer, about . he settled in prescott in , in sections and , pre-emptions subsequently surveyed into town lots. mr. doe married miss daily, in illinois, in . mrs. doe died in , mr. doe in . lute a. taylor, a young man of decided talent, a good classical scholar, a brilliant writer and humorist, came to river falls in , and in , with his brother horace, established the river falls _journal_, which they continued to publish jointly for three years, when horace removed to hudson and established the _times_. lute a. removed to prescott, taking with him the material of the _journal_ office, and established the prescott _journal_, which he edited and published until , when he removed to la crosse and published the la crosse _leader_ until his death, which occurred in . mr. taylor was a correspondent of various papers and an entertaining lecturer. as a conversationalist and wit, he was without a rival. a slight impediment in his speech, if anything, added to the humorous effect of his pithy sayings. he is well remembered in the valley of the st. croix. a volume containing his biography and some characteristic sketches has been published since his death. john huitt, a canadian, came to prescott in , and erected the first blacksmith shop in the village. he was married in prescott to a daughter of joseph mosier, and subsequently pre-empted a quarter section of land on prescott prairie. he built a saw and planing mill on trimbelle river. he died at trimbelle in . john m. rice was born in sudbury, massachusetts, in ; was married in , in massachusetts, to mary a. goodenough; came in to marine, illinois, and in to prescott. mr. rice was a house carpenter, but followed also the business of farming. he was an upright man and a member of the congregational church. he died in , leaving one son, david o., living in prescott; a daughter, maria a., wife of g. w. mcmurphy, of prescott, and a daughter in illinois. an indian battle. the feud between the sioux and chippewas originated in prehistoric times and from causes not now known. it has been a tribal vendetta, continuous and relentless, with the advantages in favor of the chippewas, who, in the course of time, have steadily forced the sioux westward from the sault ste. marie to the mississippi at prescott. we give the following account of one of their battles, being an indian version, translated and written out by philander prescott. this fight occurred in , on the site of the city of prescott. as the indians had been supplied by the french with firearms as early as , there is nothing improbable in their alleged use on this occasion. but for the story: "the chippewas, a thousand strong, attacked a camp of eighteen sioux lodges by night and killed most of the warriors. the women and children fled to the canoes, and, jumping in, pushed from the shore, but, in their hurry, without paddles. a large eddy in the river carried the canoes round and round, and, as they swept near the shore, the chippewas seized them, pulled them to the shore and butchered the women and children. a few sioux warriors had fled up the bank of the lake, where they hid in crevices and caves of the rocks. the chippewas discovered their hiding places and killed all but one, who rushed from his retreat, and, diving again and again in the lake, swam for the opposite shore. as often as his head appeared above the water the chippewas fired a volley of bullets, which fell around like hail, but harmlessly. the bold swimmer finally reached the opposite shore unharmed, when he gave a whoop of joy and disappeared in the thicket. the chippewas, filled with admiration at his daring exploit, returned his farewell whoop with interest." river falls occupies township , range , and a tier of two sections from range . trimbelle river drains the eastern portion and the kinnikinic the northwest. its early history is identified with the history of river falls city, its first settlement. it was organized in , as greenwood, but in the name was changed to river falls. as river falls city was not incorporated until , we shall give its early history in connection with that of the town. the first settler was joel foster, in the fall of . in , came d. mcgregor, james and walter mapes; in , messrs. hayes, tozer, penn and parks, and not long after the powells and clark green. these early settlers chose locations at, or near, the present site of river falls city, and along the banks of the kinnikinic, which here, owing to its numerous waterfalls, offered unusual facilities for milling and manufacturing. the first crop was raised by joel foster, in . the first saw mill was built in by the brothers n. n. and o. s. powell, just below the site of the present greenwood mill. this was burned in . in the powell brothers platted the village of river falls, called at first, kinnikinic, setting apart for that purpose two hundred acres of land. this plat included the upper waterfalls within the present city limits. the largest water power they donated to c. b. cox as a mill site, to encourage settlement in the village. the brothers co-operated in building up the village, amongst other things building a frame store and stocking it with goods. this was the first store in the kinnikinic valley. they dealt also in real estate and lumber. the name of river falls, as applied to the village, dates from the establishment of the first post office, in . charles hutchinson was the first postmaster, and the office was held in this pioneer store. j. s. rounce, in , built the first foundry in pierce county. the water powers of river falls have been extensively utilized, many saw and flouring mills having been erected at various times on the kinnikinic. of these, in , the more notable are, the junction mills, owned by freeman, rhyder & co., with a capacity of barrels daily, and a barrel manufactory attached, which gives employment to men and turns off from to barrels daily. the greenwood mills, owned by geo. fortune & co., capacity barrels; the cascade mills, owned by the baker estate, capacity barrels; the prairie mill, built by c. b. cox in , and now owned by j. d. putnam, capacity barrels. in educational matters river falls has taken and maintained an advanced position. the first school house was built in , by seven men, at a cost of five hundred dollars. helen flint taught the first school. in a joint stock association was incorporated as "the river falls academy." a building was erected, × feet, ground plan, and two stories in height. prof. wilcox was the first principal. this school was maintained as an academy until , at which time it was superseded by the free schools. in the fall of the building was destroyed by fire. subsequently a commodious brick structure was erected in its place at a cost of $ , . excellent private schools were maintained by hinckley, cody and baker, for five years during the ' s. the state normal school, of which a more extended account is given elsewhere, was established here, and a building erected in , at a cost of about $ , , the people of river falls and other towns contributing to this fund $ , , with private subscriptions to the amount of $ , , and a donation of ten acres of land. of the $ , river falls gave $ , , troy $ , , clifton $ , , while pierce county contributed $ , , and kinnikinic, st. croix county, gave $ , . the building, a handsome brick, four stories high, including the basement, stands on an elevated plat of ground in the southeastern part of the city. the first board of instruction consisted of w. d. parker, president, with the following assistants: j. b. thayer, conductor of teachers' institute; a. earthman, history, geography, music; lucy e. foot, english literature, reading, spelling; julia a. mcfarlan, mathematics; margaret hosford, latin and english literature. model department, ellen c. jones, teacher, grammar grade; mary a. kelley, teacher, intermediate grade; lizzie j. curtis, teacher, primary grade. the following are the churches of river falls, with date of establishment and name of first pastor when known: congregational, , rev. james stirratt; baptist, , rev. a. gibson; methodist, ; episcopal, , rev. chas. thorpe; catholic, , rev. father connelly; seventh day adventist, . with the exception of the last named, these church organizations have good buildings. the congregational church building erected in was superseded by a building in that cost $ , . this was destroyed by a tornado in , but has since been rebuilt at the cost of the building destroyed, and a parsonage has been added at a cost of $ , . a sunday-school was established in river falls in , and the first sermon was preached, in or , by rev. julius s. webber, a baptist missionary. rev. john wilcoxson, an episcopalian, held occasional services as early as . associations. the following are the social and benevolent associations of river falls, with dates of organization: masonic lodge, june, ; i. o. o. f., ; i. o. g. t., march , ; juvenile temple of honor, march , ; temple of honor, march , ; a. o. u. w., . the hall, fixtures and charter of the odd fellows lodge was destroyed in the fire of , but the lodge was rechartered the same year. the bank of river falls was organized jan. , . ---- bartlett, president; joseph m. smith, cashier. capital, $ , . it was reorganized in , under state law, r. s. burhyte, president; w. d. parker, vice president; j. m. smith, cashier. capital stock, $ , . total business in , $ , , . . hudson & river falls railroad. this road was built in , the people of river falls contributing $ , to its construction. the road is ten miles in length. in it was extended to ellsworth, a distance of twelve miles. river falls board of trade was established in . a. d. andrews, president; c. h. keys, secretary. fires. in the metropolitan hotel, costing $ , , and other buildings were burned; loss $ , . the insurance was light. in a large portion of the town was destroyed by fire. river falls city. river falls was incorporated as a city in . at the first election for city officers, held april th, three hundred and nineteen votes were cast, and the following persons were declared duly elected to the positions named: mayor, a. a. andrews; treasurer, g. e. pratt; assessor, e. h. daniel; aldermen, first ward, w. w. wadsworth; second ward, l. m. rosenquist; third ward, r. n. jenson; fourth ward, l. styles; marshal, r. n. bevens; city clerk, allen h. weld. the license for the sale of intoxicants was fixed at $ . the population of river falls in was , . it is a lively, prosperous city, planned on a liberal scale, with wide streets, well shaded with ornamental trees. the mills have reservations by which they are separated from the business part of the city. the beauty of the original waterfalls is somewhat marred by the mills and their debris. originally they were very beautiful and picturesque, and were widely celebrated, and much visited by the lovers of nature. of these falls there are four, two on the south branch, one on the north branch, and one some rods below the junction of the two streams. the falls were not noted for their grandeur, but rather for their quiet beauty, the water falling over ledges but a few feet in height, and so broken in two of them as to present the general appearance of a succession of stairs, or steps, of unequal elevation, over which the water falls. an interesting feature at the junction of the two rivers is the cave in which the pioneer settler, judge joel foster, with his negro boy, spent the winter of - . from his cave cabin he had full view of the falls on the two streams, no less beautiful in their winter dress of gleaming icicles, with the frost-whitened boughs of the willow and alder drooping over them, than in their summer brightness. the judge has told me that he loved, almost worshiped, this spot. the cave cabin stood about one hundred feet from the sparkling stream. there, in the early morning, he could cast his line, and have for his regal breakfast the speckled trout. above him towered a precipice crowned with evergreen trees, and around him, on the borders of the streams, were the elm and maple, and an undergrowth of alder and birch. there certainly could have been no fairer scene in the west. to-day no traces remain of the old cave cabin. the junction mills have effaced the more beautiful and poetic features of the scene. the judge has passed away, and found a grave on an elevation overlooking his old home and the scenes he loved so well. the judge, although a friend to progress, and active in advancing the material interests of the locality in which he lived, was unalterably opposed to the movement to incorporate river falls, and did all he could to defeat the measure. when the incorporative act had been passed, he moved outside of the city limits, declaring that he would neither live nor die within them; but having been fatally injured by an accident, he was brought back to his old home, and died within the city. the fourth state normal school at river falls--history. the constitution of the state, adopted in , provides "that the revenue of the school fund shall be exclusively applied to the following objects: "_first_--to the support and maintenance of common schools in each school district, and the purchase of suitable libraries and appurtenances therefor. "_second_--that the residue of the income of the school fund shall be appropriated to the support of academies and normal schools, and suitable libraries and appurtenances therefor." no effort was made to take advantage of this provision of the constitution for the endowment of normal schools until , when an act was passed providing "that the income of twenty-five per cent of the proceeds arising from the sale of swamp and overflowed lands should be appropriated to normal institutes and academies, under the supervision and direction of a 'board of regents of normal schools,'" who were to be appointed in pursuance of the provisions of that act. under this law, the income placed at the disposal of the regents was distributed for several years to such colleges, academies and high schools as maintained a normal class, and in proportion to the number of pupils in the class who passed satisfactory examinations, conducted by an agent of the board. the law under which these schools are organized provides that "the exclusive purpose of each normal school shall be the instruction and training of persons, both male and female, in the theory and art of teaching, and in all the various branches that pertain to a good common school education, and in all subjects needful to qualify for teaching in the public schools; also to give instruction in the fundamental laws of the united states and of this state, and in what regards the rights and duties of citizens." regulations for admission to the normal schools. tuition is free to all students who are admitted to these normal schools under the following regulations of the board of regents: _first_--each assembly district in the state shall be entitled to eight representatives in the normal schools, and in case vacancies exist in the representation to which any assembly district is entitled, such vacancies may be filled by the president and secretary of the board of regents. _second_--candidates for admission shall be nominated by the superintendent of the county (or if the county superintendent has not jurisdiction, then the nomination shall be made by the city superintendent) in which such candidate may reside, and shall be at least sixteen years of age, of sound bodily health and good moral character. each person so nominated shall receive a certificate setting forth his name, age, health and character. _third_--upon the presentation of such certificate to the president of a normal school, the candidate shall be examined, under the direction of said president, in the branches required by law for a third grade certificate, except history, theory and practice of teaching, and if found qualified to enter the normal school in respect to learning, he may be admitted after furnishing such evidence as the president may require of good health and good moral character, and after subscribing to the following declaration: i, ---- ----, do hereby declare that my purpose in entering this state normal school is to fit myself for the profession of teaching, and that it is my intention to engage in teaching in the schools of the state. _fourth_--no person shall be entitled to a diploma who has not been a member of the school in which such diploma is granted, at least one year, nor who is less than nineteen years of age; a certificate of attendance may be granted by the president of a normal school to any person who shall have been a member of such school for one term; provided, that in his judgment such certificate is deserved. as an addition to the work of the normal schools, the board of regents are authorized to expend a sum not exceeding $ , annually, to sustain teachers' institutes, and may employ an agent for that purpose. institutes are regarded as important auxiliaries and feeders to the normal schools. at present one professor from each normal school is employed conducting institutes every spring and fall. the normal school fund now amounts to over $ , , , and yields an annual income of about $ , . it will be increased by the further sale of swamp lands, and will prove ample for the objects for which it is set apart. in the legislature divided the swamp lands and swamp land fund into two equal parts, one for drainage purposes, the other to constitute a normal school fund. the income of the latter was to be applied to establishing, supporting and maintaining normal schools, under the direction and management of the board of regents of normal schools, with a proviso that one-fourth of such income should be transferred to the common school fund, until the annual income of that fund should reach $ , . during the same year, proposals were invited for extending aid in establishment of a normal school, and propositions were received from various places. in the board of regents was incorporated by the legislature. joel foster.--judge foster was born at meriden, connecticut, dec. , . he was liberally educated. he came to edwardsville, illinois, in , and to hudson, then known as buena vista, in . after a careful exploration of the country he made choice of the valley of the kinnikinic, and made him a home in the fall of , at the junction of the two branches of that stream, and within sound of its beautiful cascades. he was the pioneer settler of the river falls of to-day. he built the first dwelling house, raised the first crops, and ever proved himself a worthy citizen, first in every good work and enterprise. he was a man of far more than ordinary intelligence and moral worth, was temperate, industrious, public spirited, sagacious and independent. he has filled many positions of responsibility, amongst them that of judge of st. croix county. during the mexican war he served as a quartermaster in col. bissell's second illinois regiment. judge foster was married at chicago in to charlotte porch. he died at his home in river falls, aug. , . jesse b. thayer was born oct. , , in janesville, wisconsin; was educated at milton college in , and is by profession a teacher. during the rebellion he served in the fortieth and forty-ninth wisconsin volunteers as a private. he served five years as principal of the public schools in menomonie, and since has been connected with the state normal school at river falls as conductor of institutes. in he was elected to represent pierce county in the state assembly. a. d. andrews.--dr. a. d. andrews was born in lowell, maine, sept. , . he graduated at the chicago medical college in , and in was commissioned assistant surgeon of the sixth wisconsin infantry, of the famous iron brigade, with which he served up to the battle of gettysburg. after retiring from the army he came to river falls and engaged in milling, in which business he successfully continued until , when he retired. he was elected state senator in . he was appointed a regent of the fourth state normal school in . he died at his home an river falls, after a short illness, july , . he was mayor of the city at the time of his death. joseph a. short.--mr. short was born in madison county, new york, april , . he learned the trade of a millwright. he visited the east and west indies. he came to milwaukee in . in he went to california, but returned in , and settled in river falls, where he built a saw and planing mill, laid out an addition to the village and in various ways promoted the interests of the settlement. mr. short was a member of the methodist church sixty years, and of the masonic fraternity fifty years. he was married aug. , , in new york, to olive prossen. he died at his home, may , , aged eighty years, leaving a son and three daughters. allen h. weld.--prof. a. h. weld, widely known as a pioneer educator, and as the author of an excellent grammar, was born in vermont in . he graduated at yale college. he came to river falls in and taught the first graded school in the village. for two years he was principal of the high school at hudson, and for six years was superintendent of schools in st. croix county. he was a member of the state board of regents nine years, and was prime mover in securing the location of the state normal school at river falls. the excellent character of the schools in st. croix county, and the high educational position of river falls, are due to his untiring effort and wise direction. mr. weld was a member of the congregational church and a consistent christian as well as a progressive, public spirited man. he died in , at his home in river falls, leaving a widow and one son, allen p. allen p. weld was born in north yarmouth, maine, in . in he graduated at dartmouth college. he studied law and was admitted to practice in , at albany, new york. he taught school at albany three years, and came to river falls in , where he is a dealer in real estate. he was married in to alice powell, daughter of lyman powell. george w. nichols was born in , at braintree, vermont. his father was a soldier in the revolution. at the age of seventeen he enlisted and served in the war of . he lived in vermont fifty years, in massachusetts ten years, and in came to river falls, where he engaged in farming until he was eighty years of age. he was married in vermont to deborah hobart, who died in . his sons george h. and william h. reside in river falls. they were soldiers during the war of the rebellion. his son isaac n. was a member of capt. samuels' company, and was killed at perrysville, kentucky. the grand army of the republic post at river falls has his name. he died in . w. d. parker--prof. parker was born in bradford, orange county, vermont, in . he received a common school and academic education. at the age of sixteen years he entered the janesville high school, and four years later graduated. he taught two years in janesville, four years at delavan, and one year in monroe, green county, wisconsin. in he visited europe, after which he taught two years at lake geneva, wisconsin. he was superintendent of schools five years at janesville. in he was elected to the presidency of the fourth state normal school at river falls. in he was elected state superintendent of public instruction. prof. parker was married to justine b. hewes, of chicago, in . the powell family.--william powell, the father, came to river falls in , where he lived with his sons until his death, nov. , . his second wife was the widow of ---- taylor, and the mother of horace and lute taylor, the well known journalists. mrs. powell died in july, . lyman powell came to river falls with his family in . he was married to lucinda taylor, sister of horace and lute taylor. mr. powell died at river falls, nov. , , leaving a wife, two sons and five daughters. nathaniel n. powell, the second son, born may , , in st. lawrence county, new york, came to river falls in , and pre-empted the northeast quarter of section , now a part of the site of river falls city. he was married to martha ann hart, sept. , , at hudson. he died at river falls, sept. , , leaving one son and one daughter. oliver s. powell, the youngest son, was born june , , and came to hancock county, illinois, in , where he lived eight years. he had no great opportunities for gaining an education. he came to stillwater in , bringing with him the first threshing machine north of prairie du chien. he threshed the first grain threshed in the county in the fall of that year, for fiske, on a farm three miles below stillwater. in november, , he located in river falls, pre-empting the south half of the southeast quarter of section , town , range , lands lying just north of those claimed by his brother, and which afterward became a part of river falls. mr. powell was a representative in the state assembly in - - , and was a county commissioner many years. he was married in to elmira nichols. they have three sons, harvey c., newell n. and lyman t., and four daughters, lucy m., sarah h., amy e., and miriam. nils p. haugen was born in norway in ; came to america in and to river falls in . he graduated in the law department of michigan state university in . mr. haugen was phonographic reporter of the eighth and eleventh judicial circuits for several years, and a member of the assembly from pierce county in and . he was elected railroad commissioner for wisconsin in , and re-elected in . in he was elected representative to congress. h. l. wadsworth was born july , , in erie county, new york. he learned the trade of a shoemaker, came west in , and settled at river falls some time in the ' s, and engaged in farming. he has filled many positions of trust in the st. croix valley, and in represented st. croix county in the assembly. in he was married to miss a. r. baldwin. eight children have been born to them. rock elm includes township , range . it was organized as a town nov. , . the first town meeting was held at the house of j. prickett. the first commissioner was sylvester fox, chairman. the post offices are at rock elm, on the western line of the town, section , and rock elm centre, sections and . at the latter place is located rock elm institute, a school of high grade, founded in . harrison lowater is the principal. the town is well supplied with schools, there being as many as nine within its limits. among its first settlers were loomis kellogg, charles a. hawn and sylvester fox. salem. salem occupies township , range . it is drained by rush river. it was organized as a town jan. , . first board of supervisors, c. c. carpenter, eben white and j. h. shults. the first school was taught in , by thompson mccleary. the first marriage was that of harvey seeley and kate mckinstry. the first child born was sarah fuller. the first death was that of john mccleary, sept. , . the first post office was established at rush river, may , joseph seeley, postmaster. the first settlers were jeremiah fuller, from ohio, and w. wells, ; harvey seeley, ; thomas boyle and james white, ; john f. davis from ireland, (town clerk twenty years); john h. brasington, from pennsylvania (town treasurer fifteen years); eben white, james walsingham, john strong, h. m. hicks, from pennsylvania, ; john foley and brothers, from ireland, ; james h. shults, joseph seeley, h. c. brown, john mcclure, from ireland; c. c. and ira w. carpenter, from connecticut, . mrs. fuller, the wife of the pioneer, was here over six months, during which time she did not see a white woman. spring lake is the extreme northeastern town of the county, occupying township , range . the post offices are oak ridge and spring valley. the town was organized nov. , . the first town meeting was held at the house of a. m. wilcox. the first supervisors were: w. d. akers, chairman; jonas nebb; levi hess, clerk. the first school was taught in , by agnes harriman. the methodist and baptist churches have organizations, and the methodists have a building worth five hundred dollars. the first marriage was that of h. m. wilcox to mrs. kate rice, of lake city, by w. d. akers, justice of the peace. the first child born was a daughter of ole p. gardner. the first death was that of leota wilcox, in . the first postmaster was b. h. preston, . the first settlers in the order of their coming were james gilmore, o. p. gardner, george wilcox, john francisco and w. d. akers. trenton. trenton contains about twenty-eight sections, those on the mississippi having very irregular boundaries. twenty-four whole sections lie in township , range , and the remainder in township , range . trenton, in section , township , is its post village. trenton was organized in ; james akers, chairman of supervisors. wilson thing, the pioneer settler, came in . trimbelle. trimbelle includes township , range . its post villages are trimbelle and beldenville. it was organized march , . its supervisors were f. otis, chairman, and aaron cornelison. among its earliest settlers were the cornelisons, f. otis and m. b. williams. it has four saw mills and one flouring mill, five school houses and one church (methodist). martin b. williams was born in new york in . he received a common school education, and at the age of sixteen years was thrown upon his own resources. he learned the trade of blacksmith. he was married in new york, and has four sons, clark m., frank t., g. glen and a. judd. mr. williams is one of the pioneer settlers of trimbelle, and has held many public town and county positions. he served as treasurer of pierce county four years. he has been a local preacher in the methodist episcopal church for over thirty years. union. union consists of township , range . it is drained by plum creek. it has two post offices, plum creek, in section , and ono, section . it was organized aug. , . among its first settlers were eleazer holt, hiram n. wood, and capt. horst, who made their homes here in the early ' s. footnotes: [b] in the town of elisabeth was organized by st. croix county, and included what is now pierce county. the first board of supervisors were william thing, chairman; aaron cornelius, and l. m. harnsberger; clerk, hilton doe; treasurer, geo. w. mcmurphy. in , by legislative enactment, the name elisabeth was changed to prescott. [c] a member of the well known faribault family, after whom the town of faribault has been named. [d] note.--when i touched at prescott in , it was generally known as the "mouth of st. croix," though by some called "prescott's landing." the residents were hilton doe, a farmer; geo. schaser, boarding house keeper; w. s. lockwood, merchant; joseph mosier, an indian trader or storekeeper. the principal trade was with indians. chapter viii. burnett, washburn, sawyer and barron counties. burnett county. burnett county was named in honor of a genial, kind hearted and eccentric lawyer, thomas pendleton burnett, of prairie du chien. it is somewhat irregular in outline, and is bounded on the north by douglas, on the east by barron, on the south by polk and barron counties, and on the west by the st. croix river. it includes townships to , range ; from to , range ; from to , ranges and ; from to , ranges and ; from to , range . seven of these townships bordering on the st. croix are fractional. much of the soil of the county is a sandy loam admirably suited to cereals and vegetables. some townships in the southeast are first class wheat lands. the timber is mostly a thicket-like growth of small pines, constituting what is called pine barrens. the southeast portion of the county is timbered with hardwoods. it is drained by the st. croix, trade, wood, clam, yellow, and namakagon rivers, with their tributaries, and with the wood lakes (big and little), mud hen, trade, yellow, spirit, and numerous other lakes. there are besides many thousand acres of marsh land. these marsh lands are by no means valueless, as they have given rise to a very important industry--the growing of cranberries. there are fine deposits of iron. large tracts of bog ore are found in townships to , ranges to . there is an abundance of wild meadow land, easily drained and profitable to stock growers. the settlers of this county are, for the greater part, swedish and norwegian emigrants, an intelligent, moral and religious class of people who, while they cherish the traditions, manners, customs and language of their native country, still readily adapt themselves to american institutions, taking kindly to our common school system and to other distinctive features of their adopted country. a liberal spirit has characterized these people in building roads, bridges, school houses, churches, and making other public improvements. they have succeeded well also in their private enterprises, the cultivation of farms and the building of homes. organization. the county, originally a part of polk, was set off march , , and included also at that time, and till the year , the present county of washburn. it was organized in . the first county officers, appointed by the governor, were: judge, nimrod h. hickerson; clerk of court, canute anderson; register of deeds, peter anderson; treasurer, s. thompson; sheriff, martin b. johnson; district attorney, jacob larson. grantsburg was selected as the county seat. the first county supervisors, consisting of michael jenson, chairman, thore ingebritson and peter anderson, met jan. , . the first election was held at the house of nimrod h. hickerson, nov. , . the first frame house in the county was built at grantsburg in , by w. h. peck. the first crops were raised in township , range , by charles ayer. the finances of the county have been managed discreetly. the state drainage fund was judiciously expended. the first deed recorded in burnett county was a tax deed from polk county to simon estonson, of the southeast quarter of the southwest quarter of section , township , range . it bears date jan. , . the pine barrens. so prominent a feature in burnett and other counties in northwest wisconsin, consist of sandy stretches of undulating, though sometimes of level lands, sparsely covered with a growth of young pines, generally of the black prince variety. in some places, where the trees are crowded thickly together, they are not unlike immense cane-brakes. the trees, from their proximity, have grown very tall and slender. the lateral branches, crowded together and deprived of sunshine, have perished early and the growth of the young trees is chiefly vertical. the lower dead limbs remaining attached to the trunks give the young forest a peculiarly ragged and tangled appearance. there is abundant evidence to prove the existence of ancient pine forests where these pine barrens are now the only growth. in fact some of the larger trees are still standing, and the charred trunks and decaying remnants of others. the gradations from the younger to the older growth may be very plainly seen. fire is undoubtedly the efficient cause of the stunted and irregular growth of the pine barrens. the matured forests are destroyed by fire, and are succeeded by the young pines which are further reduced and injured by annual fires. it is a mistake to suppose that the soil of these barrens is necessarily poor. many of them have a black, sandy soil, capable of producing fine crops. in most of them there is a dense undergrowth of blueberry bushes, producing annually millions and millions of bushels of their small but luscious fruit. murders. burnett county is not without the traditions of lawlessness and murder that tarnish so many frontier settlements, and here, as elsewhere, the primal cause of most of such crimes is whisky. whisky maddens the brain and nerves the arm of the assassin. whisky hardens the heart and blinds the eyes to what is right, and the sale of whisky on the frontier, authorized or unauthorized, in nearly all cases the latter, is the bartering of the human life for gold. the money received for it is the price of blood, although in some instances the seller himself may be the victim. it is whisky that does the work. jack drake, a whisky seller at wood lake, whose outfit was supplied by samuels & partridge, naturally of a quarrelsome disposition, was especially so when under the influence of liquor. on one of these occasions he was killed by a half-breed known as robideau, and his body was buried on the shores of little wood lake. robideau was imprisoned a short time at st. croix falls, but being carelessly guarded, easily made his escape and was not heard of afterward. what did it matter? it was only the result of a drunken row. the body of a murdered stranger was found by a crew of men working on little wood river, in the spring of . he had left superior city with an indian guide for st. paul, and was not afterward seen alive. his land warrants and watch, which had been taken from him, were afterward recovered, and the indian who had been his guide was himself mysteriously assassinated the following spring. geezhic.--at wood lake, burnett county, wisconsin, lived in an aged and blind indian woman who calculated her pilgrimage on earth by moons. all traces of her traditional beauty as an indian maiden had long since departed. shriveled, decrepit, bent, she was the impersonation of all that is unlovely and repulsive in age. taciturn and sullen, her mind lethargic and dull, she seemed but little more than half alive, and could not easily be aroused to the comprehension of passing events, or to the recognition of those around her. she must have been very old. when aroused to consciousness, which was but seldom, she would talk of things long past. a light would come into her sightless eyes as she recounted the traditions, or described the manners and customs of her people, and spoke with evident pride of their ancient power and prowess when her people planted their tepees on the shores of the "shining big sea water" (lake superior) and drove their enemies, the dakotahs, before them. her people wore blankets made from the skins of the moose; elk and buffalo, with caps from the skins of the otter and beaver. there was then an abundance of "kego" (fish) and "wash-kish" (deer). there were no pale faces then in all the land to drive them from their tepees and take their hunting grounds. of course there had been occasional whites, hunters, trappers and missionaries, but the formidable movements of the now dominant race had not fairly commenced. counting the years of her life on her fingers, so many moons representing a year, she must have numbered a score beyond a century, and she had consequently witnessed, before her eyes were dimmed, the complete spoliation of her people's ancestral domain. the physical features of the country have undergone a change. the towering pines have decayed or been leveled by the woodman's axe. some of the small lakes have receded, and tall grasses wave and willows grow where once the "kego" sported in the clear blue waters. "the sun drew the waters up into the heavens," but the old shores may still be traced, by the fresh water shells that are crushed by the foot of the explorer, and by the ineffaceable mark of the water breaking upon the beach and undermining the rocky ledges. a few indians still linger on the old hunting grounds and about the graves of their fathers, but as a race they are doomed, and the time is not far distant when their only memorials will be the printed or striped rocks that are found along the streams and lakes, and here and there the sunken graves of the vanquished race. the first mission. in the autumn of the year the first mission was established in the st. croix valley, at the outlet of yellow lake, in burnett county. this may be considered the first actual movement in opening the way for white settlements in the st. croix valley. the good and indefatigable laborers, who came away into these western wilds, spent many years in this valley endeavoring to improve the benighted aborigines. their labors were successful, until the bane of the human family--alcoholic drinks--was introduced by the corrupt border traders. rev. fred ayer (since a resident of belle prairie, minnesota, and a member of the convention that framed our constitution), mrs. ayer, with miss crooks (afterward mrs. boutwell) as teacher, arrived at yellow lake sept. , . miss crooks opened her school on the twenty-fourth, with eight scholars. this was evidently the first school in the st. croix valley. this mission was under the patronage of the american board of commissioners for foreign missions. thirty or forty indians came to the trading house, a mile from the mission, for the purpose of obtaining ammunition and moccasins for making what is called the fall hunt. during their visit at the traders', mr. ayer had the opportunity of explaining the object of his mission--schooling their children, and aiding them in agriculture, planting their gardens, and furnishing them with seeds. to the objects of the mission all listened with interest, but, as the chiefs were not present, no reply was made to mr. ayer. after obtaining their supplies from the traders, they dispersed for their fall hunt. the school in the meantime progressed, and frequent opportunities occurred for giving religious instructions to adults during the winter. in april some twenty-five families encamped near the mission; many were interested in the objects which the mission proposed. in the spring of four families made gardens by the mission and schooled their children; three of the families belonged to the influential in the band. one of these, the chief who visited washington during the administration of adams, was gis-kil-a-way, or "cat ear." the indian mind is suspicious of the white man. waiingas, "the wolf," another chief of considerable note, was prejudicing the minds of his friends against the whites. he openly declared that if the indians would join him, he would burn the mission house and drive the teachers from his country. on one occasion a party of indians, including this hostile chief, passed the evening at mr. ayer's. the chief closed his speech at midnight with these words: "the indians are troubled in mind about your staying here, and you must go--you shall go; not only i say so, but all here present say so!" the next morning all the indians assembled. the trader, the late dr. borup, and his wife were present. the wolf and his party were determined to expel all the whites. the friend of the white man, cat ear, took the floor and shaking hands with dr. borup and mr. ayer, began a speech of half an hour's length. pointing to the wolf and to two other chiefs sitting side by side, he says: "i speak for them. look at them. to them belong this land. since last evening we have considered this subject. we have changed our minds. the great spirit made us all--made us red--you white. he gave you your religion, manners and customs--he gave us ours. before we saw white man we dressed in skins and cooked with stones. you found our land on the map and come--since then you have clothed and provided for us. why should we send you away? we only should be the sufferers--all of us tell you to stay--again we say, stay. we do not wish you to go; no, no--we say to you all, stay; you may plant and build, but the land is ours. our great father has sent you here--we are glad--we will tell you why we fear the whites--we fear you will get our land away. if this room were full of goods we would not exchange our lands for them. this land is ours and our children's; it is all we have." the mission at yellow lake had been in progress two years. several families had listened with glowing interest to religious instruction, schooled their children, and cultivated gardens near the mission, when mr. ayer visited the band of indians at pokegama. here were some thirty-five or forty families in the year . the chief and two or three families expressed to him a desire to settle down and school their children. they requested him to come and bring all with him who wished to come from yellow lake. the reasons that induced him to pokegama were, first, the means of subsistence were more abundant, both for the indians and the mission family--wild rice and fish in particular; this being the case the indians could be more stationary and send their children to school. second, the soil for agricultural purposes was superior to that of yellow lake. as one of the leading objects of the mission was to induce the indians to settle down and adopt habits of civilization, this object could be better attained at this place than at yellow lake, where it was comparatively sterile and sandy. a third object gained would be to locate in the midst of a larger number of indians, with whom we could come in more frequent contact, and last, but not least, put the mission in a nearer point of communication with st. peter, from whence all the family necessaries were obtained at that day. these reasons, together with the solicitation of one of the chiefs, and his permission to build on his land, and use his wood, water and fish, led mr. ayer, in the fall of , to remove to pokegama. for the continued history of this mission the reader is referred to the history of pine county. chippewas of wood lake.--a small band of chippewas, as late as , lingered about big wood lake, unwilling to leave their old hunting grounds. though brought directly in contact with civilization, they adopted its vices, otherwise remaining savages, taking no part in cultivating the soil or educating their children, contented to live and die in the old fashion of their race. they subsist, as far as possible, by hunting and fishing, and are by no means above begging when occasion may offer. they retain their annual dances and festivals, at the occurrence of which other bands join them from a distance. a dance with its accompanying feasts occupies generally about ten days, and is conducted according to rigid formulas. these dances are intended as representations of hunting, fishing or fighting, and are honored accordingly. they are accompanied with music upon rude instruments, and a weird chant in guttural and nasal tones, which may be understood as a poetic recital of their deeds or expression of their feelings. their dead are buried in conspicuous places. the graves are decorated with splints of timber. a pole with rags and trinkets is planted near the graves. there is nothing that can long mark their resting places or keep them from being desecrated by the share of the plowman. grantsburg was founded by canute anderson, in , in section , town , range . he built a flour and saw mill, the first in the county, a good hotel, and opened a store. it became the centre of trade for the county, prospered continuously, and now (in ) contains a good court house, built at a cost of $ , (burned december, ), a school house, four churches, two hotels, five stores and numerous shops and dwellings. there are two resident lawyers and one physician. grantsburg is the terminus of the st. paul & duluth (branch) railroad, completed in . the scheme of building a branch road to connect with the st. paul & duluth railroad at rush city was long cherished by canute anderson, and through his efforts the road was finally built. the county voted $ , bonds, at seven per cent interest, which bonds the state of wisconsin cashed. the road was graded from grantsburg to the st. croix river in , from rush city to st. croix in . the st. paul & duluth railroad company built the railroad and assumed the bonded indebtedness, payable in fifteen annual installments. cars ran to the st. croix river in . the bridge over the st. croix, completed in , cost $ , . the road was opened to grantsburg jan. , . at this opening over a thousand persons were present, five hundred of whom came in on the train. canute anderson made an address of welcome, followed by james smith, president of the road. congratulatory letters were read from hons. s. s. fifield, henry m. rice, and w. h. c. folsom, the tenor of which was highly complimentary to mr. anderson, and full of hope for the future of the railroad and its terminus. canute anderson was born in norway, . he came to america in , and three years later settled in the northeast quarter of section , township , range , making a large stock farm, part of it being a fine natural meadow, with running stream. in the first post office in the county (called anderson) was established at his house, and he was appointed postmaster. in he represented ashland, barron, bayfield, burnett, douglas, and polk counties in the legislature. he is and ever has been a master spirit in his county, using all his influence to further the interests of his adopted home. many of the early settlers were poor,--strangers in a strange land,--and for them mr. anderson's house was ever a resort. it was also an intelligence office, where the inquiring immigrant could obtain reliable information as to the country and its resources, and facilities to the settler. in mr. anderson was married to catharine nelson, daughter of magnus nelson, one of burnett county's first settlers. the hickerson family came from ohio to wisconsin. nimrod h., the oldest brother, settled on wood river in , built a saw mill, kept a hotel and established a post office on the st. paul and bayfield stage route in . mr. hickerson went to california in , and died there. joel, the second brother, is a merchant at grantsburg. he served during the later years of the civil war as a soldier, company c, seventh minnesota volunteers, and was pensioned for disabilities. he was married in to mary anderson. perry d., the third brother, keeps a hotel in grantsburg. he was also a member of company c, seventh minnesota volunteers, and with his brother was mustered out at the close of the war, and has received a pension for disabilities. he was married to ellen m. anderson, daughter of peter anderson. they have eleven children. newton, the fourth son, lives in grantsburg. he was a soldier in company d, twenty-first ohio, during the war. was wounded and totally disabled. he has no pension. he is unmarried. the anderson family.--the four brothers, peter, george, hans and martin, with their aged parents, came from norway and settled in grantsburg in . the father but recently died. the mother is still living, having reached the extreme age of ninety-seven years. during the last six years she has been blind. peter anderson was married in norway in . his wife died in , leaving three sons and four daughters. he was married to his second wife in . peter has served as county supervisor, and filled other offices. the brothers have been active in promoting the interests of their town and county. robert a. doty was born in niagara county, new york; lived some years in genesee county, michigan, and settled in sterling, polk county, in . he subsequently became the first settler in the town of marshfield, burnett county. he was accidentally killed in by being thrown from his wagon. his widow and two sons live in grantsburg. john h., the oldest son, resides on the old homestead in sterling. the cranberry marshes. the cultivation of the cranberry is an important industry in burnett county. the berry is raised chiefly in townships and , ranges and . the writer of these sketches visited the localities named in , and although there have been many changes and improvements since then, the description quoted from an essay read before the horticultural society will still be generally applicable: "the scene on approaching these marshes, where the native cranberry was found, before the white man had commenced to improve them, was picturesque in the extreme to those who have a taste for nature's handiwork. there are extensive tracts of land covering thousands of acres, dotted here and there with islands of young pine and points of highland projecting in various shapes into the marshes. it reminded me of an ocean bay, in a calm, only changing the ocean water color to endless green. there are in these marshes somewhere from one to two townships of land, on which cranberries were then growing, or susceptible of being improved so that cranberries can be raised thereon. one township contains , acres. the parties operating on the marshes i visited already have some or miles of ditch made, averaging feet at the top, feet at the bottom, with an average depth of feet, at a cost of about cents per rod. these ditches are to drain the water from the marshes when desired. they have dams across these ditches, to flood the marshes when desired. the flooding of the marshes aids in subduing the wild grasses and other incumbrances, also is essential to the growth of the berries. on these marshes, wherever the flowage is killing the grass, the vine is rapidly spreading, without transplanting. undoubtedly they would yield a quicker return by transplanting. large tracts of these lands, which, at this time have no vines, are bought by companies, mostly from the cranberry lands in eastern wisconsin, who are experienced in this business, and know what they are doing. they openly declare that vines can be grown on these marshes, where sufficient water can be obtained and controlled to flow the lands. mr. irvine informed me that this flooding process, and the manner in which it was controlled, was the key to success. i examined the effect which one year alone had accomplished, as these companies commenced operations in . it surprised me when i saw the mode, and heard it explained, that so little was generally known of this business. after the marshes are subdued, dams and ditches built, there is comparatively small cost in raising the fruit until the harvest, when men, women and children flock in from the farming countries to pick, to pack, to store, to dry, to box, and convey to market. an expert will pick from five to ten bushels per day by hand, no rakes being allowed. in these marshes had an abundant yield. these companies paid to outsiders one dollar and fifty cents per bushel. there are several companies operating in burnett county. they have made and are making substantial improvements, in building roads, dry houses, dwelling houses, etc. the past year a saw mill was erected for sawing staves for barrels, lumber for boxes, etc. these marshes are about twenty miles east of the superior railroad." washburn county. washburn county was organized in , and embraces townships to , inclusive, and ranges to , inclusive, a total of townships. it is drained by st. croix waters with the exception of the southeast corner, which is drained by a branch of the chippewa river. it has been a rich timbered region and large forests of pine still remain. the greater part of the county is adapted to agriculture, and is settling rapidly. two lines of railway traverse the county, one from south to north, and the other from southwest to northeast, giving the county excellent facilities for transportation and marketing of products. the county is divided into two towns, bashaw in the south and veasie in the north. these towns were organized in , while washburn was a part of burnett county. the first supervisors of bashaw were: l. e. thomas, chairman; john arbuckle and john mcmullen. the town of bashaw was the first settled. john mcmullen settled in township , range , in , in bashaw valley. he married a member of the hart family, old settlers of the town. he died in . l. e. thomas was the second settler in bashaw and in washburn county, and has been officially connected with the town and county organization. he is a native of michigan, and has followed lumbering and farming. l. e. thomas built the first house. nellie raberge taught the first school in bashaw, in . miss raberge has since become the wife of milton stratton. the first post office was established in , mrs. malcolm dobie, postmistress. the first sermon was preached by rev. ellingwood. g. p. pearly was the first physician; a. l. bugbee, the first lawyer. messrs. hart, baker, gardner and others have large farms in bashaw valley. by the act organizing the county, shell lake was made the county seat. it is beautifully located on the shores of summit lake. it has a court house, built at a cost of $ , , in , one of the most tasteful buildings of the kind in the st. croix valley. the town is built on railroad lands, purchased by the shell lake lumber company, and by them surveyed into lots. the streets are from sixty-six to eighty feet wide. a restriction in the deeds to the lots and lands against the sale of alcoholic drinks has been continuously violated. in the town board fixed license at five hundred dollars, a plain violation of the original agreement. a fine school building with four apartments was built in , at a cost of $ , . prof. halphyde is principal of the schools. the episcopalians and catholics have church buildings. the baptists, methodists, lutherans and presbyterians have church organizations. the masons, good templars and knights of labor have organizations. summit lake, on the west bank of which the town is situated, is about two and a half miles broad by three and a half long. it has bold, gravelly shores. the water is deep, clear and pure. the slopes surrounding it are covered with evergreen, and hardwood timber. one small steamer floats upon its waters. the first board of county officers was as follows: treasurer, leander e. thomas; clerk, frank b. nelson; sheriff, james wynne; attorney, frank gudette; register of deeds, albert l. bugbee; judge, l. h. mead; clerk of court, a. gibson; superintendent of schools, clara stratton; surveyor, patrick kelly. the first circuit court was held in june, , hon. s. s. clough, presiding. the county has two court terms for the year, in june and december. the shell lake lumber company was organized in , under iowa laws. it is composed of c. lamb and david joice and sons, of clinton, iowa; laird, norton & co., of winona; weyerhauser & dinkeman, of rock island, illinois; s. t. mcknight, of hannibal, missouri; d. r. moore, eau claire, wisconsin. their mills are located on the northwest side of summit lake. they have a capacity of , , feet per year. the capital stock amounts to $ , . employment is furnished to men. in the hour system of labor was adopted. a narrow gauge railroad, twelve miles long, supplied with two locomotives and fifty cars, is used for bringing logs to mill. this road has a steel track and , feet of piling. the refuse burner of the mill is feet in diameter and in height. there are tenement houses to accommodate the laborers. a. h. earle superintends this vast concern. sawyer creek obtained its name from seth m. sawyer, of stillwater. this stream flows into yellow river, five miles from summit lake. it rises from springs three hundred feet from the lake, and one hundred feet lower down, and may be considered its subterranean outlet, as visible outlet there is none. the lake, literally a summit lake, the receding and descending slopes, the springs uniting to form a larger stream, form a peculiar landscape, quite park-like in some of its features, and worthy of being converted into a park. spooner, in the township of veazie, on the north branch of the yellow river, township , range , is a dinner station on the north wisconsin railroad. the railroad company have fitted up an elegant eating house, and a few neat buildings, the nucleus of a much larger village, cluster around it. veazie village is in township , range , and has a post office. the town of veazie, occupying the northern part of the county, was organized in . millions of feet of pine timber have been gathered and marketed from this town, and it is estimated that , , feet still remain. ames and sinnot station are in the township of veazie. sawyer county. sawyer county was organized march , . it is comprised of townships to , and ranges to , inclusive. of these townships twenty-five are drained by chippewa waters and five by namakagon river. the county is heavily timbered with pine, though vast quantities have been taken and marketed. the county seat was located at hayward in the bill organizing the county. the county officers, appointed by gov. rusk, were: sheriff, a. blaisdell; clerk, c. h. clapperton; register of deeds, h. e. ticknor; treasurer, r. l. mccormack; county judge, h. w. hart; attorney, n. e. ticknor; superintendent of schools, miss m. mears; surveyor, w. j. moulton; coroner, e. g. gregg. the court house was built in , at a cost of $ , . the county at its organization assumed the following indebtedness: to ashland county $ , to town of ashland, ashland county , to town of butternut, ashland county , to chippewa county , to town of flambeau, chippewa county (disputed claim) , to town of big bend, chippewa county , to town of sigel, chippewa county , outside indebtedness, total $ , all this indebtedness, with the exception of the unsettled claim of flambeau, chippewa county, has been paid. since its organization the county has expended $ , on roads to chippewa waters. this, added to the cost of the court house, $ , , a school house for the town of hayward, $ , , town hall for hayward $ , , makes a total of expenditures for the county within the past three years of $ , , a remarkable sum for a new county with so sparse a population to pay, but not so remarkable when we take into account the immense value of its lumber products and standing timber. hayward is the only town in the county. its first board of supervisors were: a. j. hayward, chairman; thos. manwarin and michael jordan. a. l. mccormack was first treasurer, and c. c. claghorn, clerk. the village is situated in sections and , township , range , upon a level pine plateau on the north side of namakagon river, a tributary of the st. croix. the village was platted in , but a post office had been established the year before, c. h. clapperton being the first postmaster. the first marriage in the town of hayward and county of sawyer was that of fred emmons and mary lindmark, in . the first birth was that of a daughter to al. blaisdell. the first death was that of nels j. eggin. rev. a. safford preached the first sermon. anna shafer taught the first school. e. g. gregg opened the first store. h. e. ticknor was the first lawyer and j. b. trowbridge the first physician. the first school house, built at a cost of $ , , was burned. there was an insurance of $ , . a new building was erected at a cost of $ , , with three departments, and with steam heating apparatus. prof. f. a. nichols was the principal. the congregational church at hayward is one of the finest church buildings in the northwest. it is built in the queen anne style, with circular seats, the whole finished in exquisite taste. senator sawyer, after whom the county was named, contributed a town clock and bell worth $ , . the catholics have a church here, and the lutherans an organization. the odd fellows and knights of labor have organizations. the sawyer county bank was organized march , , with a capital stock of $ , , divided equally between three stockholders, r. l. mccormack, a. j. hayward and e. h. halbert, the latter being general manager and cashier. the bank deals in real estate, abstracts, insurance and general monetary business. the business transacted for the year ending june , , amounted to $ , , . the bank building is a substantial brick. the hayward lumber company has a mill on the namakagon river. the water power has a fall of eighteen feet and a flowage of about three miles. a sixty foot channel has been left through the flowage for slucing logs. the saw mill has a capacity of , , feet per annum. it has a planing mill attached. the company is composed of t. f. robinson, weyerhauser & dinkeman and r. l. mccormack. mr. weyerhauser is president of the company. mr. weyerhauser is also president of the rock island lumber company and of weyerhauser, dinkeman & co., of rock island, and is a stockholder in renwick, crosset & co., cloquet, minnesota, shell lake, barronett, masons, white river, and chippewa falls lumber companies, and is president of the beef slough boom and chippewa and mississippi logging companies. mr. weyerhauser is the most extensive holder and owner of unoperated pine lands in the west, or probably on the continent. the stockholders of the hayward lumber company are all men of wealth accumulated by their own industry. mr. r. l. mccormack, the resident stockholder and manager, is admirably adapted for the position he holds. mr. mccormack was a citizen of minnesota for fourteen years, and a member of the minnesota legislature in . he was born in pennsylvania in . dobie & stratton, contractors for pine stumpage on the lac oreilles indian reservation, reside in hayward. they cut , , feet of logs in the winter of - . malcomb dobie, of this firm, is a native of canada. he came to the st. croix valley in , and was married to harriet stratton, at st. croix falls, in . milton v. stratton, brother of mrs. dobie, was raised at st. croix falls, and engaged in business with mr. dobie. in , his health failing, he removed to california. barron county. barron county was formerly a heavily timbered tract of country, but is now being rapidly cleared and settled. it is well watered by the red cedar and its tributaries, and has many beautiful lakes, among them turtle, beaver, chetek, red cedar, rice, bear, and long lakes. the county was first established as dallas county, in , and attached to polk for judicial purposes. in it was organized for county and judicial purposes, and the county seat was changed from manhattan to barron, section , township , range . by act of legislature in , the name of the county was changed to barron, and the county seat was called by the same name, in honor of hon. henry d. barron, then judge of the eleventh circuit. it comprises townships to , inclusive, and ranges to , in all townships. barron county has three railroads, on the lines of which thriving settlements have sprung up. the railroads are three, the north wisconsin, a branch line of the omaha, and the minneapolis, soo ste. marie & atlantic. the north wisconsin railroad passes through the northwestern part of the county. the chippewa falls & superior city branch of the omaha enters the southeast corner, and traverses the county in a direction west of north. the minneapolis, soo ste. marie & atlantic passes through the middle of the county in a direction from east to west. turtle lake town was organized in . the village of turtle lake is situated in sections and , township , range . it contains a large saw mill with a capacity of , , feet per annum; a union depot, used by the north wisconsin, and minneapolis, soo ste. marie & atlantic railroads, and stores, shops and dwellings, all new. the minneapolis, soo ste. marie & atlantic railroad was built through the county in , and completed in . barron, the county seat, is a growing lumber town, with farming lands to the south. it has a population of over , . the "soo line" railway has a station here. perley village is located also in turtle lake town, in section , township , range , and on the line of the north wisconsin railroad. it has a large saw mill with a capacity of , , feet per annum. the village is beautifully located on horse shoe lake. cumberland village is situated in the town of cumberland, section , township , range , on beaver dam lake. it is pleasantly situated, and is the largest village on the line of the northwestern railroad. its appearance gives evidence of enterprise and thrift on the part of its citizens. the beaver dam lumber company have here a saw mill with a capacity of , , feet per annum. cook & co. have a saw mill (burned and rebuilt) with a capacity of , , feet. the village has a bank and one newspaper, the cumberland _advocate_, first issued in as the _herald_. cumberland was organized as a village in , and organized under a city charter in . the population is now about , . the mercantile business will aggregate about $ , annually. the aggregate output of lumber is , , feet, while other industries aggregate $ , per annum. there are four churches, one graded school of five departments in which students are prepared to enter college. there is here one banking house. sprague is a village in cumberland, on the northwestern railroad. it has a saw mill with a capacity of about , , feet per annum. comstock, in cumberland, on the northwestern railroad, has a shingle mill and saw mill, the latter having a capacity of about , , feet. barronett, in cumberland, is located in township , range , in the midst of a well timbered region. its saw mill, directly on the county line, has a capacity of , , feet. m. bowron has a farm adjoining the village of acres, improved and yielding tame grass. de graw and granite lake mills are also located on the northwestern railroad. turtle lake, scott's siding, cosgrove, barron, the county seat, cameron and canton, are on the minneapolis, soo ste. marie & atlantic railroad. chetek, cameron junction, rice lake and bear creek are located on the omaha branch. charles simeon taylor.--mr. taylor was born in geneva, wisconsin, october, ; graduated at the wisconsin state university; studied law and settled at barron, barron county, in , where he practices his profession and edits the _barron county shield_. he was elected member of the thirty-seventh wisconsin assembly in - and represented the counties of barron, bayfield, burnett, douglas, and washburn. chapter ix. ashland, bayfield and douglas counties. ashland county. ashland was originally a part of crawford county, afterward of st. croix and la pointe, and was set off from the latter march , . it is bounded on the north by lake superior and montreal river, on the east by oneida, on the south by price and chippewa, and on the west by bayfield and chippewa counties. it includes townships to , ranges , , and east of the fourth principal meridian, and townships to west of the same; the northern towns bordering on montreal river and lake superior are fractional. the group of apostle islands belongs to this county. the surface is generally level except where broken by the iron and copper ranges in the middle and southern part of the county. the gogebic range, southeast of ashland, is especially rich in iron. a railroad along this range connects ashland with the michigan roads. the soil is somewhat varied, ranging from sandy loam in the interior, to red clay on the lake shore. the county is drained by bad, white and montreal rivers and their tributaries, and the headwaters of the chippewa. the timber is pine, fir, birch, etc. the apostle islands, situated in lake superior at the mouth of chequamegon bay, form a fine natural harbor. the group consists of twenty-two islands, the most considerable of which are madeline, oatez, oak, hemlock, rice, basswood, presque, bear, sand, and michigan. the islands range in area from a very few acres up to , . they are heavily timbered with hardwood, have fertile soil, and are well adapted to farm and garden culture. the largest of these islands is madeline, situated directly at the entrance to chequamegon bay, and noted as containing the oldest settlement on the lake. claude allouez, a jesuit missionary, landed at madeline island oct. , , and erected a bark chapel at the place now known as la pointe, and commenced instructing the indians of the algonquin and huron tribes. since that time the island has been held by missionaries and trading companies, with some pretty long intervals of abandonment. in , m. cadot, a french trader, came to la pointe, erected fortified dwellings and lived here till his death, in . at the commencement of the present century the american fur company made its headquarters on the southern part of the island, and occupied a post there until , when they removed to la pointe. rev. sherman hall, of the presbyterian church, established a mission here in . in rev. father baraga, a catholic missionary, arrived, and built a church which he occupied until , when he built a better one, which still stands in the inclosure of an ancient burying ground. this church contains a painting said to be over two hundred years old. some of the graves are quite ancient, and have quaint inscriptions upon their tombstones. one that has often been copied and commented on by tourists is as follows: "erected to the memory of abraham beaulieau who was accidentally shot as a mark of affection by his brother." these islands are becoming a fashionable resort for tourists, and many of them have been utilized as pleasant summer residences. some of them are occupied by lighthouses of which there are five in all. the islands abound in brown stone, which is being quarried extensively for building purposes. the stone for the milwaukee court house was taken from the quarries on basswood island. la pointe county election.--in la pointe county was set off from st. croix county, and at an election held nov. , , john h. wells and leonard wheeler were elected justices of the peace, and j. f. hughes was elected clerk of the board of county commissioners. returns of their election and that of members of the legislature were made to hudson, county seat of st. croix county. hon. john w. bell, born in new york city in , in his eighth year went to canada with his parents, learned to be a watchmaker, a ship builder and a cooper, and came to la pointe in , where he has since resided. he carried on the coopering business first, for the american fur company, and then for himself established a trading post, became interested in mining stocks, and filled various county offices, having served as county judge and register of deeds a great many years. in later life he was postmaster at la pointe. he was married in to miss margaret brahant, in the catholic chapel, by bishop baraga. he died in . ashland is situated on a plateau of about thirty feet elevation, on the south shore and near the head of chequamegon bay. the first house, a cabin, was built in . other cabins were added the same year. in the cabin erected by mr. asaph whittlesey, in the winter of - , was preached the first sermon in ashland by rev. l. h. wheeler, of the odanah mission. a post office was established in march, , mr. whittlesey, postmaster. the first american child born was the second daughter of asaph whittlesey. the name of ashland was conferred upon the town by martin beaser, an ardent admirer of henry clay, it being the name of mr. clay's homestead. the village and post office was first known as whittlesey, but on the organization of the county in , the name of ashland was applied to both. the new town was not destined to immediate and continuous prosperity, and at one time, in , had decreased so much in population that its post office was discontinued for a period of nine years. after that date it entered upon an era of prosperity. julia wheeler taught the first school in . the methodists organized the first protestant society in . the catholics commenced a church building in . in the first newspaper in ashland, the _press_, was established by sam s. and hank o. fifield, under whose charge it remained until , when s. s. fifield bought his brother's interest in the paper and has since published it continuously, and in established a daily. in the wisconsin central railroad commenced work at the bay, and the outlay for improvements that year amounted to $ , . the wisconsin central railroad built the hotel chequamegon in . it is built in the form of an l, feet front and feet deep with feet of veranda, and accommodations for guests. there are numerous other hotels in the city, and several boarding houses receive guests during the summer season. ashland has vast lumber interests. the ashland lumber company built the first mill, in , which had a capacity of about , , feet per annum. the union mill, built in , has a capacity of about , , feet. mueller & richie's mill, built in , has a capacity of about , , feet. there is also a planing mill belonging to geo. white. ashland has become a railroad centre. the wisconsin central, st. paul & omaha, milwaukee & lake shore and northern pacific concentrate a heavy freight for their elevators and lake docks. the largest dock in the world was built in ashland in . it was built almost expressly for iron ore shipments from penoka and gogebic ranges. asaph whittlesey selected the site of ashland in , and in conjunction with george kilborn built the first dwelling. he was the first postmaster. he was appointed in . he represented ashland, burnett, douglas, la pointe, polk, and st. croix in the wisconsin assembly in . j. p. t. haskell was the second settler in ashland. he came with his wife, nov. , , but did not long remain. s. s. vaughn was born in cuyahoga county, ohio, sept. , . he came with his brother to la pointe in , and engaged in the fishing and fur trade until , when he returned to ohio. after taking a course in a commercial college, he returned to wisconsin in , took a claim of one hundred and sixty acres at ashland and opened a store at bayfield. in he surveyed and platted what is known as vaughn's addition to ashland. in he represented ashland, barron, bayfield, burnett, douglas, and polk counties in the wisconsin assembly. at ashland he built docks, warehouses and a store, and in later years dealt largely in iron mines and in lumber. he was married to miss e. patrick, of ohio, in . he died at ashland, february, . he induced the wisconsin central railroad company to make ashland their lake terminus. he did more for that city than any other man. edwin ellis, m.d., was born in oxford county, maine; was educated in farmington academy, colby university and bowdoin college, where he graduated and afterward completed a medical course at the university of new york. he came west in , and located first at st. paul, but in removed to ashland where he made a claim, which, in part, became in ellis' addition to ashland. he practiced his profession at ashland and ontonagon, michigan. he was married in to martha b. baker, of sharon, maine. martin beaser, one of the pre-emptors of the site of ashland, was born in erie county, new york, oct. , . for many years he was a seafaring man. he spent seven years in whaling, at the close of which time he came to ontonagon in a sailing vessel, and thence with three companions in a dog sledge to ashland, arriving february, . here he pre-empted land, and assisted in laying out the village. he engaged in the mercantile business. he was drowned in november, , while trying to cross chequamegon bay in an open boat during a storm. mr. beaser was a public spirited man and freely used his wealth in attempting to build up ashland. he never lost faith in the ultimate prosperity of his adopted home. hon. sam s. fifield was born in corinna, penobscot county, maine, june , . his early days were spent in bangor, and he had but limited school privileges. he was early thrown upon his own resources and learned lessons in the rough school of life. he spent his time variously, as errand boy, hotel clerk, night watch on a steamboat, toll keeper; but finally, having served a brief apprenticeship in a printing office, he became the proprietor of the _polk county press_ in . in he and his brother hank o. established the ashland _press_, of which he is now sole editor and publisher. mr. fifield entered the political arena as a republican and has been remarkably successful. his record from the wisconsin blue book is as follows: - --assembly proof-reader and assistant sergeant-at-arms. - --assembly sergeant-at-arms. - - --member of assembly from ashland, barron, burnett, douglas, and polk counties. --speaker of the assembly. --member of the senate. - --member of the senate. - --lieutenant governor. mr. fifield was married to stella grimes, at prescott, . considering the disadvantageous circumstances of his youth, mr. fifield's career has been a notable one. bayfield county. bayfield county includes townships to , except as affected by the irregular outline of its lake boundary on the north, and ranges to . it has seventy-five miles of lake shore, with some fine harbors, the finest of which are those in the shelter of the apostle islands, on the northeast. the country is covered with dense growths of evergreen and hardwood timber. numerous streams flow into the lake on the north, and into the tributaries of the st. croix on the south. the chippewa indians formerly occupied the country. the red cliff indian reservation is located at buffalo bay, a short distance north of bayfield city. the territory of bayfield county has been successively in the bounds of crawford, st. croix and la pointe. by subsequent subdivisions douglas and ashland counties were set off from la pointe, and the apostle islands given to ashland, and the remaining part of la pointe was organized as bayfield county, with the county seat at bayfield, in . aside from traders and adventurers and the occasional advent of a missionary, the first settler was elisha pike, who came with his family in , and settled in section , township , range , not far from bayfield. bayfield was named in honor of admiral bayfield of the british navy, who made a survey of lake superior in - . bayfield. the village of bayfield was platted in , by h. m. rice. it has since been incorporated. it is beautifully situated. the site slopes gently from high timbered regions to the shores of the bay. the waters of the bay are deep, clear, and, from the shelter afforded by the apostle islands, almost unruffled. the harbor thus afforded is among the best on the lake. bayfield was made a port of entry in . the city is well supplied with stores, mills, hotels, school houses, and churches. there are many pleasant homes, with fountains playing in front, lawns, shade trees and ornamental shrubs. the landscape, especially to those residing in the rear of the city on the higher grounds, is exquisitely beautiful. there are many beautiful trout brooks and ponds in the suburbs. as a summer resort bayfield is becoming every year better appreciated. the bayfield _press_, established in , is the local newspaper. it is edited and published by currie c. bell. washburn is a new town on the west side of chequamegon bay. it is the lake terminus of the omaha railroad. it has a fine harbor, large mills and other enterprises that mark it as a growing town. drummond, pratt and mason are prosperous manufacturing villages, with large saw mills, located on white river, on the line of the north wisconsin railroad. cable station, on the railroad, in township , range , contains about a dozen buildings. mathews, olson & co. are working a silver mine near cable which yields twenty-three dollars per ton. there are several other villages and stations on the line of the two railroads passing through this county. douglas county. this county occupies the extreme northwestern corner of the state, having a frontage of six townships on the lake by six on the minnesota state line, making a total of thirty-six whole townships and five fractional, the latter lying along the lake. the northern part of the county is drained by the tributaries of st. louis river and lake superior, the principal streams being the nemadji, middle and brule rivers. the southern part is drained by the st. croix and tributaries. the omaha railroad intersects the county from south to north, having its northern terminus at west superior. the northern pacific crosses the upper tier of towns, having its principal station at superior. thriving villages are growing up along these lines of railroad, and the county is being rapidly settled. it was organized as a county in february, , from territory originally belonging successively to crawford, st. croix and la pointe counties. the first election was held nov. , . the following officers were elected: county judge, j. a. markland; sheriff, asa a. parker; district attorney, r. r. nelson; register of deeds, f. a. whitaker; county treasurer, bradley salter; supervisors, frank perfect, chas. h. kimball and alexander paul; supervisors' clerk, c. h. kingsbury; superintendent of schools, j. j. post; coroner, r. h. barrett. judge j. a. markland held the first term of court, june , . the first deed filed in the county was from william herbert to geo. l. becker, being a warranty in section , township , range . consideration, $ . the deed was recorded february, . at the organization of the county, superior was made the county seat. superior city. the site is on a beautiful plateau originally covered with pine, lying on the southern shore of lake superior, separated, however, from it by the waters of superior bay, a fine natural harbor shut in from the lake by tongues of land called minnesota and wisconsin points. these approach within a half mile of each other, the space thus left being the original outlet of the bay. between wisconsin point and the main land lie the waters of allouez bay, extending in length a distance of three miles, and in width in its widest part about one mile. the nemadji river flows into superior bay near its outlet. the bay of st. louis finds an outlet into superior bay between rice's point and a tongue of land a mile or more in length, projecting from the wisconsin main land. minnesota point, which separates superior bay from superior lake, is a strip of land seven miles in length, with an average width of seven hundred feet, beautifully fringed with pines. at the outlet of superior bay two piers have been constructed, extending into the lake three-fourths of a mile. on one of these piers is a forty-day lighthouse, constructed by the government. the bay forms one of the finest harbors in the world. the plateau on which superior city is located is about thirty-five feet above the waters of the bay. the site occupies the triangular space lying between st. louis bay and the bays of allouez and superior, and has at least eleven miles of frontage on these bays, along which numerous docks and piers have been built and projected, some of them costing as much as $ , . the government surveys were made in , by george r. stuntz. in july of the same year j. addison bulmer made a location on allouez point. in august, john t. morgan settled at the mouth of the nemadji river. they were followed by wm. h. newton, george e. nettleton, benjamin thompson, col. d. a. robertson, r. r. nelson, and d. a. j. baker, of st. paul. in september the roy brothers and ---- cadott came. the same autumn frank roy, abraham emmuit and louis souvenard made pre-emptions of frontage on superior bay. several buildings were erected. mr. roy and others give to col. robertson the honor of building the first house in superior. it is still standing. in the fall of mineral explorations were made, and mines were worked during the ensuing winter. an indian trail was widened and a road opened into the st. croix valley by which supplies were brought from st. paul. this road was not wide enough for wagons, but was traveled during the winter in dog sledges and on snowshoes. the winter following the opening of the road, messrs. robertson, nelson and baker went over it to st. paul on foot. in the spring of newton and others made additional surveys of the town site of superior city, and the same was recorded nov. , . settlers came in rapidly. o. k. hall built a hotel. at the organization of douglas county, in , superior was made the county seat, the proprietors donating twelve acres of land for county buildings. two lots for every eight blocks were donated for schools, twenty lots for churches, and a square for a park. a weekly mail to and from st. paul was established in july of that year. a saw mill was erected. a land office was established at superior that year. rev. david brooks, a pioneer methodist minister, preached the first sermon, using a carpenter's shop as an audience room. an old settlers' association was organized september, , known as the fond du lac historical society. its officers were: r. b. carlton, president; w. h. norton and e. f. ely, vice presidents; e. w. perry, secretary. the superior _chronicle_ issued its first number june , . it was the first newspaper published at the head of lake superior. ashton & wise were the publishers. the second number contained the announcement of the opening of the ste. marie canal and the passage through it of the first boat, the steamer illinois. it contained also the astonishing announcement, from the st. anthony _express_, that a salt lake had been discovered by w. h. ingersoll, one hundred and fifty miles west of st. cloud. the salt was said to be of good quality, and in such quantity that it could be gathered by the bushel. large beds of coal had also been discovered near the lake. the _chronicle_ was discontinued in and succeeded by the superior _gazette_ in . the _gazette_ has been succeeded by the superior _times_, now edited by j. lute, thomas bardon, proprietor. superior city has passed through periods of depression as well as of advancement. at an early period speculators were lured to the spot by the manifest advantages it presented for the building of a great city. the favorable site attracted attention throughout the union. wealthy men and men prominent in the political history of the country invested largely. amongst these we find the names of w. w. corcoran, of washington; robert j. walker, of new york; g. w. cass, of pittsburgh, pennsylvania; horace s. walbridge, of toledo, ohio; the breckenridges of kentucky; the rice brothers, of st. paul; and james stinson, of chicago. with the influence of these names, and the means furnished, the new city had a rapid, if not healthy growth. the prosperity was short lived. the adjacent country was not sufficiently developed, the shipping interests languished, and those who had been attracted hither by dreams of becoming suddenly rich, were discouraged and moved away, till, in , the city was half deserted. the period of depression continued through the civil war, and for years afterward, until, by the building of railroads and the consequent development of the country, the claims of superior as a centre of trade were again acknowledged, and the tide of emigration was turned back. with allouez, superior and duluth bays for its harbor, with its railroads already built, building or projected, its enterprising people are ready to contest with duluth for the sovereignty of the unsalted seas. superior, being a combination of old superior and west superior under one municipality, was organized as a village aug. , , and held her first village election sept. , , with a population of , people. it was organized with the following officers: president, l. f. johnston; trustees, wm. munro, neil smith, l. g. moran, a. lederman, a. a. cross, and howard thomas. west superior was platted in . the first buildings were erected in october of the same year. the city has now a population of , . it has excellent graded schools, under the supervision of prof. g. glen williams. the catholics, presbyterians and congregationalists have church buildings, and the methodists are about to build. a hotel is in process of building that will cost when completed $ , . west superior is supplied with water works, the electric light, extensive coal docks and elevators, and has three newspapers, the superior _inter-ocean_, established june , ; the west superior _news_, established june , ; and the _sunday morning call_, established july, . the bardon brothers.--james, thomas and john a. bardon came early to superior city and upheld her doubtful fortunes in the days of trial, never losing faith in her prospective greatness. they have not toiled and watched and waited in vain. the expected railways have been built; the improved harbor, with dredge boats, well built piers and lighthouse, has been completed. surveys and terminal approaches of other roads insure the commercial prosperity of the city. thomas has for some years been a resident of ashland, wisconsin. wm. h. newton, an early citizen of superior city, is among those who have never lost faith in its future prosperity, believing the head of the lake to be the natural terminus of european trade and a centre of american commerce. he is an engineer, surveyor, real estate dealer, and is interested in some of the converging lines of railroad at superior city. solon h. clough.--mr. clough was born in madison county, new york, aug. , ; was educated at fulton academy, since known as falley seminary, oswego county, new york. he attended for a short time hamilton college, new york, studied law, and was admitted to the bar at syracuse in . he came to hudson, wisconsin, in the fall of ; in was elected mayor of hudson; in , judge of the eleventh circuit, and removed to osceola. in he removed to superior city; in returned to hudson, but removed again to superior in , where he still resides. he was re-elected circuit judge in , and in was appointed by gov. rusk to fill the vacancy caused by the death of judge barron. at the conclusion of his term he was re-elected for the ensuing term. judge clough was married in to kate taylor, of new york. vincent roy, a brother of peter roy, well known among the pioneers of the northwest, was born in fort francis in ; came to la pointe in ; attended school a few terms, and engaged in the fur trade. in he came to superior, where he still resides, and is an active, enterprising merchant. d. george morrison, a son of william morrison, the discoverer of the source of the mississippi, resides at superior city, where he has served as register of deeds for douglas county since , a period of thirty-one years. he came to superior an . august zachau came to superior in , from chicago, where he had been for three years, working at the carpenter's trade. he was then twenty-seven years of age, and a prussian by birth. he was engaged by the superior town site company to superintend the building improvements going on at what is now the east end. when he came up, no ste. marie canal had been dug, and a portage was necessary between lakes superior and huron, involving a change in the line of vessels. he built the first hotel in superior, the old pioneer house, which burned in , and also the present nicollet house, which was built of logs, cut on what is now tower slip. he also built the quebec pier, the first dock ever built at the head of lake superior. he also assisted in cutting the old government trail through to the st. croix river. he was an active participant in the defense of the town site people in their battles with the claim jumping pre-emptioners, who had settled on the lands adjoining, and who filed contests on much of the town site as soon as the plats were returned to the land office at willow river, now known as hudson. in cutting the sixty miles of trail to the st. croix, every able-bodied man turned out, except enough to guard the homes and cut kindling wood. the axemen ground their axes at fond du lac, the only trading station of importance at that time on the st. louis river. he pre-empted, in the interest of his fellow sufferers on the town site, eighty acres of land, now part of superior. he has always led a quiet, laborious life; now runs a small general store at the east end, and does a little general contracting for ties and bridge timbers and dock piling. he has a family of five boys and one girl now living, all in superior. among the first settlers were judge hiram hayes, ---- ritchie and ---- gates. chapter x. pine county. prior to the organization of minnesota territory, in , pine county was included within the limits of st. croix county, wisconsin. until the organization of chisago county, in , it was within the limits of ramsey, and from thence until , within the limits of chisago, when it was organized under its present name. until it included the territory of the present counties of kanabec and carlton. it is bounded on the north by carlton county, on the east by the st. croix river and the state line, and on the west by aitkin and kanabec counties. it is well watered by the st. croix, kettle and kanabec rivers with their numerous tributaries. there are many fine lakes within its borders. the finest of these are cross, pokegama, pine and sturgeon lakes. this county was originally heavily timbered with pine, from which fact it derived its name. though immense quantities have been removed, the supply is still great enough to make this region a lumberman's paradise for years to come. the facilities for floating logs to the st. croix are scarce equaled elsewhere. since the kanabec river has been a principal feeder to the lumber trade of the st. croix valley. in some of the forests a new growth has succeeded the old, and should the land be not otherwise used, the lumberman may yet reap successive harvests in periods ranging from eight to fifteen years. much of the land in this county is well adapted for agriculture. the soil is chiefly a sandy loam with clay subsoil. much of the county will eventually become a good grazing and cereal growing region. the southern townships are heavily timbered with hardwood and are rapidly being converted into good wheat farms. a large quantity of cordwood, piles and ties is annually marketed by means of the railroad. kanabec river is navigable from chengwatana and pine city to brunswick, in kanabec county. the same steamboat that since has navigated the kanabec, also makes trips, six miles up the rice and pokegama rivers. the first crops raised in the county, except those raised by traders and missionaries, were raised on the greeley farm, kanabec river, near the western limits of the county, by royal c. gray. at the organization of the county, herman trott, george w. staples and royal c. gray were appointed commissioners. the county was attached for judicial purposes to chisago until , at which date the county seat, located at chengwatana by legislative enactment, was changed by a popular vote to pine city. the first district court was held in october, , judge crosby, presiding; john d. wilcox, clerk; edward jackson, sheriff. the first marriage license, issued in , was to john kelsey and mary hoffman. the first board of county officers, after the removal of the county seat, were: commissioners, hiram brackett, george goodwin and edward jackson; auditor, adolph munch; register of deeds, don willard; county attorney, treasurer and superintendent of schools, john d. wilcox. the first article recorded by the register of pine county was a military land warrant, no. , in the name of prudence rockwell, located by william orrin baker upon the southeast quarter of section , township , range , subject to forty days' pre-emption, dated stillwater, june , ; t. m. fullerton, register. assigned, june , , to enos jones. the second record is of a warranty deed from john f. bradford to w. a. van slyke, of ramsey county, of the west half of the northwest quarter of section , township , range , and the west half of the northwest quarter of the same section. the finances of the county were in good condition until , from which time, owing to heavy expenditures for new roads, with possibly injudicious management, and two defalcations of county auditors, considerable embarrassment ensued. in the state legislature bonded the county indebtedness of $ , , in ten year bonds, at ten per cent interest. these bonds were readily received by the creditors, and the county is now free from debt. during the last year a bridge feet long was built across the kanabec river near pine city, at a cost of $ , , for which the state appropriated $ , and the county $ , . the lake superior & mississippi railroad was completed to kanabec river in , and in extended northwest to the county line. the building of this road was speedily followed by the erection of numerous mills along its line, a list of which is appended, with the very remarkable statistics of the losses by fire, from which but four of these mills were exempt: north branch, swenson & co., flour mill; burned; loss, $ , . rush city, taylor & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , . rock creek, edgerton & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , ; rebuilt. rock creek, strong & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , ; rebuilt. rock creek, long & co., capacity , , feet yearly; removed. pine city, ferson & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , ; rebuilt. pine city, ferson & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , ; rebuilt. pine city, munch & burrows, stave mill; burned; loss, $ , . pine city, brackett & co., capacity , , feet yearly. mission creek, taylor & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , ; rebuilt. mission creek, taylor & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , . hinckley, grant & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , . hinckley, mckean & butler, capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , ; rebuilt. miller station, robie & co., shingle mill; burned; loss, $ , . kettle river, s. s. griggs & co., capacity , , feet yearly; never operated; loss, $ , . moose lake, mcarthur & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , . barnum, cooley & co., capacity , , feet yearly; burned; loss, $ , . barnum, bliss & co., capacity , , feet yearly. northern pacific junction, payne & co., two mills burned; loss, $ , ; rebuilt the third time. pokegama lake. this beautiful lake lies in township , range . it is about five miles in length by one in breadth and finds an outlet in kanabec river. it is celebrated for its historical associations. thomas conner, an old trader, informed the writer of these sketches, in , that he had had a trading post on the banks of this lake thirty years before, or about the year . this was before fort snelling was built. mr. conner said that there was a french trading post at pokegama long before he went there. it was in the spring of , after a wearisome day's tramp, that i made his acquaintance and shared his unstinted hospitality. his post, at that time, was located at the mouth of goose creek, chisago county, on the banks of the st. croix. his rude, portable house was built of bark, subdivided with mats and skins into different apartments. although at an advanced period in life, his mind was clear and he conversed with a degree of intelligence which caused me to ask him why he lived thus secluded, away from all the privileges of a civilized life. his reasons, some of them, were forcible; he liked the quiet of the wilderness, away from the turmoils of the envious white race. i learned from him many interesting facts connected with travelers, traders and explorers of our st. croix valley. this was the last season he spent on the river. in , when i visited pokegama, jeremiah russell, an indian farmer, had a very pretty farm on a point of land on the southwest side of the lake, and between the lake and the river. a frenchman, jarvis, lived a short distance from russell. across the lake from russell's were the neat and tasteful log buildings and gardens of the presbyterian mission. the mission was established in the spring of , by rev. frederic ayer and his associates, under the auspicies of the american board of foreign missions. mr. ayer had been laboring at yellow lake mission, but, owing to the growing unfriendliness of the indians, had been removed to pokegama. much pertaining to the mission work, both at pokegama and elsewhere, will be found in the biographies of the principal missionaries. we mention here only such incidents as may be of more general interest. for many of these incidents we are indebted to mrs. elisabeth j. ayer, of belle prairie, the widow of rev. frederic ayer, for a long time missionary to the ojibways. this estimable lady has passed her eighty-fifth year, but her mind is still clear and her hand steady, her manuscript having the appearance of the work of a precise young schoolmistress. she mentions an old canadian, who had been in the country sixty years, and for seven or eight years had been entirely blind. he was known as mushk-de-winini (the-old-blind-prairie-man), also the old trader, thomas conner, the remains of whose mud chimney and foundation of the old trading house may still be seen on the southern shore of the lake. franklin steele was the first white man to visit the mission. in the spring of the mission aided three or four families in building. february, , rev. mr. hall, of the la pointe mission, visited pokegama, and organized a church of seven members,--three of whom were natives,--administered the ordinance of baptism to eight persons, and solemnized two marriages, probably the first in the valley of the st. croix. revs. boutwell and ely came to the mission in . a school had been opened, some indian houses built, and gardens enlarged, and the future of the mission seemed assured. mrs. ayer relates the following account of the battle of pokegama. in the sioux selected this settlement as the place to avenge the wrongs of the ojibways--some of recent date; the principal of which was the killing of two sons of little crow (done in self defense) between pokegama and the falls of the st. croix. the sioux arrived at pokegama in the night, and stopped on the opposite side of the lake, two miles from the mission. the main body went to the main settlement, and, after examining the ground where they intended to operate, hid among the trees and brush back of the indian gardens, with orders that all keep quiet on both sides of the lake till a given signal, when the indians were busy in their gardens, and then make quick work. but their plans failed. most of the ojibways of the settlement had, from fear of the sioux, slept on an island half a mile out in the lake (i mean the women and children), and were late to their gardens. in the meantime a loaded canoe was nearing the opposite shore and the few sioux who had remained there to dispatch any who, in time of battle, might attempt to escape by crossing over, fired prematurely. this gave the alarm, and saved the ojibways. the chief ran to mr. ayer's door and said, expressively: "the sioux are upon us," and was off. the indians seemed at once to understand that the main body of the enemy was at hand. the missionaries stepped out of the door and had just time to see a great splashing of water across the lake when bullets came whizzing about their ears, and they went in. the sioux had left their hiding place and the battle commenced in earnest. most of the women and children of the settlement were yet on the island. the house of the chief was well barricaded and most of the men gathered in there. the remainder took refuge in a house more exposed, at the other end of the village. the enemy drew up very near and fired in at the window. one gun was made useless, being indented by a ball. the owner retired to a corner and spent the time in prayer. the mother of the house, with her small children, was on her way to the island under a shower of bullets, calling aloud on god for help. the missionaries seeing from their windows quantities of bloody flesh upon stumps in the battle field, thought surely that several of their friends had fallen. it proved to be a cow and calf of an ojibway. the mission children were much frightened and asked many questions, and for apparent safety went up stairs and were put behind some well filled barrels. in the heat of battle two ojibways came from the island and landed in front of mr. ayer's house. they drew their canoe ashore and secreted themselves as well as the surroundings would permit. not long after three sioux ran down the hill and toward the canoe. they were fired upon and one fell dead. the other two ran for help but before they could return the ojibways were on the way back to the island. not having time to take the scalp of their enemy, they hastily cut the powder horn strap from his breast, dripping with blood, as a trophy of victory. the sioux drew the dead body up the hill and back to the place of fighting. the noise ceased. the battle was over. the missionaries soon heard the joyful words, quietly spoken: "we still live." not a warrior had fallen. the two school girls who were in the canoe at the first firing in the morning were the only ones killed, though half the men and boys in the fight were wounded. the sioux women and boys who had come with their warriors to carry away the spoils had the chagrin of returning as empty as they came. the ojibways were careful that no canoe should be left within reach of the sioux. from necessity they took a canoe, made by mr. ely, and removed their dead two miles up the river, dressed them (seemingly) in the best the party could furnish, with each a double barreled gun, a tomahawk and scalping knife, set them up against some large trees and went on their way. some of these articles, including their head-dresses, were sent to the museum of the american board, in boston. in the closing scene the missionaries had the opportunity of seeing the difference between those indians who had listened to instruction and those who had not. the second day after the battle the pagan party brought back to the island the dead bodies of their enemies, cut in pieces, and distributed parts to such ojibways as had at any time lost friends by the hands of the sioux. one woman, whose daughter was killed and mutilated on that memorable morning, when she saw the canoes coming, with a head raised high in the air on a long pole, waded out into the water, grabbed it like a hungry dog and dashed it repeatedly on the stones with savage fierceness. others of the pagans conducted themselves in a similar manner. they even cooked some of the flesh that night in their kettles of rice. eunice (as she was named at her baptism) was offered an arm. at first she hesitated; but for reasons, sufficient in her own mind, thought best to take it. her daughter-in-law, widow of her son who had recently been killed and chopped into pieces by the sioux, took another, and they went into their lodge. eunice said: "my daughter, we must not do as some of our friends are doing. we have been taught better," and taking some white cloths from her sack they wrapped the arms in them, offered a prayer, and gave them a decent burial. about this time a mr. kirkland was sent from quincy, illinois, by a party who wished to plant a colony not far from the mission station. he arrived at pokegama very soon after the battle. notwithstanding what had happened he selected a location on cross lake, just where a railroad has now been in operation for some years. he worked vigorously for two or three weeks, and then went to consult the indian agent and the military at fort snelling. they gave him no encouragement that the two tribes would ever live in peace; and he went home. the ojibways lived in constant fear, and the place was soon deserted. this was a great trial to the missionaries; but they did not urge them to stay. they separated into small parties and went where they could get a living for the present and be out of danger. the teachers remained at their post, occasionally visiting the indians in their retreat, hoping they might soon think it safe to return to their homes. in this they were disappointed. these visits were not always very safe. on one of these trips mr. ayer was lost, and from cold and hunger came near perishing. not finding the party he sought, he wandered about for a day or two. in the meantime the weather became much colder. not expecting to camp out he took only one blanket and food enough for one meal. in crossing kettle river on a self-made conveyance, and there being ice on the opposite shore, he got wet. the indians, anticipating his visit, had sent a young man to the mission station to guide him to, their new locality. he returned in haste, fell on mr. ayer's track, and a light sprinkle of snow enabled him to follow it until he was found. mrs. ayer relates several incidents illustrative of indian character. as her husband had been stationed at yellow lake, and afterward at red lake, these incidents are not necessarily located at pokegama: a noble chief. the red lake indians were a noble band--they had a noble chief. in civilization he led the way, in religion he did not oppose. he shouldered a heavy axe, and could be seen chopping on one side of a large tree, in perspiration, while his wife was on the other side, helping all she could with her hatchet. this chief was also an advocate of temperance. not that he didn't love whisky, but he hated the effect of it on his band. he dictated a letter to the president, begging him not to let the white faces bring any more firewater to his people, giving as one reason that they had teachers among them who must be protected, and if they had whisky he did not know what might happen. frank confessions. in the church there was much childish simplicity. once when mr. ayer was lecturing on the eighth commandment, he paused, and without expecting an answer, said: "now who is there among you who has not stolen?" one woman began to confess--another followed, then another. one thought she had stolen about seven times. another entered more into particulars, mentioning the things she had stolen, till the scene was quite amusing. another rose to confess, but was cut short by her husband, who said: "who knows how many times he has stolen? we are a nation of thieves." and with a few remarks the meeting closed. a cowardly deed. after a medicine dance, according to indian custom, they proposed a feast, but there was nothing on which to feast. there was a large company and all were hungry. mr. ayer's cow was in the barnyard near. three daring fellows sitting by themselves began to taunt each other in regard to their comparative prowess. after an excitement was created, one of them, to show his bravery, shot the cow. mr. ayer was in his garden and witnessed the performance. two or three of the leading men in this pagan party came immediately to mr. ayer to learn whether he would take the cow for his own use. while they were talking (perhaps twenty minutes) the cow was cut in pieces, and in the indians' kettles preparatory to a good time. after the indians had sold their land they paid for the cow. an unjust accusation. indians are said to be revengeful. they are. so are white men. they fight for their rights. so do white men. they are thieves and liars. so are white men. quarrelsome, envious, jealous. so are white men. experience teaches that according to their knowledge they compare favorably with anglo-saxons. sin is none the better, nor less mischievous, for being civilized. a missionary, a good man, too, he was, accused an innocent woman of stealing his shirts that were laid out on the snow to whiten. his wife, not remembering that she had brought them in early in the morning, asked him to go out and get them. but they were not to be found! "who has been here this morning?" was asked. "ekwazans; i don't remember any other." "well, she shan't have those shirts. i'll overtake her before she gets home." he followed her four miles, determined to have his shirts. the woman declared her innocence, and told him to search the wigwam. he did so, but said himself that it was done rather roughly. in the meantime the wife espied the shirts just where she had put them. this affair was ever after a source of regret to them. some of the indians laughed heartily; others made remarks rather sarcastic. the woman herself felt disgraced by the accusation, but never manifested signs of wanting to "pay back," or in any way to avenge the wrong. indian magnanimity. an employe of the american fur company, a "green hand," was crossing a portage. the load on his back was topped off with a bag of flour. the hill was steep and long. steps were cut in it like a flight of stairs. as he reached the top a mischievous indian touched the bag, and it went tumbling to the foot of the hill. the frenchman immediately sent the indian tumbling after it. some of the company advised the frenchman to run away, for the indian might kill him. he told them boldly that he would not run away. the indian gathered himself up, came to the top of the hill, told the frenchman he had done just right, offered his hand and they were firm friends. magnanimous had it been a white man. rev. frederic ayer was born in stockbridge, massachusetts, in . when he was two years old the family moved to central new york. his father was a presbyterian minister, and they intended that their son should follow the same profession; but before he was prepared his health failed and he turned his attention to other business. he commenced his labors for the indians in , by teaching the mission school at mackinaw, under the superintendency of rev. m. ferry. the pupils of this school were not all ojibways but were from many different tribes, and spoke different languages. mackinaw was then a general depot of the north american fur traders. they brought not only their own children to the school but such others as parents among whom they were trading wished to send. they were gathered from lake winnipeg, british america north, to prairie du chien and the head of lake michigan south. they were taught in english only. in the summer of mr. ayer went to la pointe, lake superior, with mr. warren, opened a school and commenced the study of the ojibway language. in he met at mackinaw, revs. hall and boutwell, who were sent out by the american board of commissioners for foreign missions to the indians, and he returned with mr. and mrs. hall and their interpreter to spend another winter at la pointe. the next year, , mr. ayer wintered with another trader at sandy lake. he opened a school there and completed a little ojibway spelling book which was commenced at la pointe. in the spring of he left sandy lake for utica, new york, to get the book printed. mr. aitkin, with whom he had wintered, gave him eighty dollars, and with a pack on his back and an experienced guide, he started on his journey. before they reached sault ste. marie the ice on lake superior was so weak that mr. ayer broke through and was saved only by carrying horizontally in his hands a long pole to prevent his sinking. mr. ayer hastened on to complete the object of his journey, that he might return to mackinaw in time to go up lake superior with the traders. mr. ayer, hitherto an independent worker, now put himself under the direction of the "american board," and was sent to yellow lake, within the present bounds of burnett county, wisconsin. miss delia cooke, whose name should never be forgotten among the early missionaries of the american board to the indians, and miss hester crooks, a girl educated at mackinaw, and who had some experience in teaching, were among the number who coasted up lake superior in a mackinaw boat; the former to la pointe mission, the latter to yellow lake with mr. and mrs. ayer. they wintered in dr. borup's family. mrs. borup also had, for some years, been a pupil at mackinaw. the next year miss crooks married rev. mr. boutwell and went to leech lake, and j. l. seymour and miss sabrian stevens, also henry blatchford, an interpreter from mackinaw, were added to yellow lake mission. when mr. ayer told the indians his object in coming among them, they gave him a welcome. but six months later, seeing two or three log houses in process of building, they were much troubled, and met in a body to request him to go away. a menomonie from the region of green bay had stirred them up, not against the missionaries, but against the general government. the speaker said: "it makes the indians sad to see the white man's house go up on their land. we don't want you to stay; you must go." further on he said: "you shall go!" mr. ayer answered him. the party left at midnight, and the missionaries went to bed with heavy hearts, thinking they might be thurst out almost immediately. but before sunrise the next morning about two-thirds of the same party returned, and said they had come to take back what they said the night before. the war chief was speaker, but his words were mild. "why," said he, "should we turn these teachers away before they have done us any harm?" they would like to have us stay, he said, but added that they did not want any more to come, for the result might be the loss of their lands. we might use whatever their country afforded, but they would not give us any land, or sell us any. "for," said the speaker, "if we should sell our land where would our children play?" mr. ayer finished his school house, and went on with his work as though nothing had happened. but evidently things were not as they should be. the chief seemed to "sit on the fence," ready to jump either way. the war chief was always friendly, but he had not so much control over what concerned us. he did what he could without giving offense, and was anxious that his daughter of fourteen years should be taken into the mission family. mr. ayer remained two years longer at yellow lake. in the meantime the chief of the snake river band sent messages inviting the teachers to come and live among them. accordingly in the spring of the mission was removed to pokegama lake, eighteen miles up the river. the chief did all he had promised, and showed himself a man. nothing was said here to remind the missionaries that they were using the indians' wood, water and fish. on the contrary, when they sold their land, it was urged that the teachers' children should be enrolled for annual payment, the same as their own. the chief said that as they were born on the land it was no more than right, and he wished it might be done. in mr. ayer went with his family to the states; and in oberlin was ordained preacher to the ojibways. he soon returned to the indian country, and david brainard spencer, an oberlin student, with him. they spent the winter of - in traveling from one trading post to another, selecting locations for missionary labor. for their own field they chose red lake. when mrs. ayer, with her two little boys, six and eight years old, went to join her husband at the new station, alonzo barnard and wife and s. g. wright, all of oberlin college, went with her. other missionaries soon followed, and that station was for many years supplied with efficient laborers. more recently the work there was assigned to bishop whipple, and is still carried on. mr. and mrs. ayer, in , offered their services to the freed-men of the south and were employed at atlanta, georgia. mr. ayer organized a congregational church and a baptistry connected with the house of worship, that he might baptise by immersion or otherwise, according to the wishes of the candidate. he also formed a temperance society, which some months before his death numbered more than six hundred members. there was great grief at his death amongst all classes. an aged man, who had lost a small fortune in his devotion to the confederacy, embraced the corpse, and said: "if he had not holpen me, i should have before gone him." many others, in word or action, expressed a similar feeling. all classes of people were represented at his funeral. his remains were buried in the atlanta cemetery, oct. , . thus passed away one who had spent a life for the benefit of others. mr. and mrs. ayer in some instances taught three generations of ojibway blood, and north and south, they were, in the course of their labors, associated for a longer or shorter time, with more than eighty different missionaries,--a noble band,--with few exceptions worthy the name they bore. most of them have passed away, and their graves are scattered here and there from british america to georgia. rev. william t. boutwell, who figures so prominently in the history of the early missions in the st. croix valley, was born in hillsborough county, new hampshire, feb. , . he was educated at dartmouth and andover colleges, and in , the year of his graduation at andover, he came to the northwest as a presbyterian missionary. he spent one year at mackinaw, learning the chippewa language, under the instruction of rev. w. m. ferry, father of senator ferry, of michigan. in our government sent an embassy of thirty men, under the control of the indian agent at ste. marie, henry r. schoolcraft, to tranquilize the tribes and effect some advantageous treaties. the embassy was accompanied by an outfit of soldiers under the command of lieut. allen, dr. houghton, physician, george johnson, interpreter, and mr. boutwell. the embassy had a liberal outfit of provisions, equipages and trinkets for the indians, and was conveyed in a large bateau of several tons capacity, and some birch canoes, the largest of which was thirty feet long, and capable of containing nine persons. on arriving at fond du lac, the head of navigation on the st. louis river, mr. boutwell wrote as follows to the missionary board: [illustration: william t. boutwell.] "on arriving here i was not a little surprised to find four hundred souls, half-breeds and white men. the scene at our landing was such as i never before witnessed, and enough to fill one, unaccustomed to the like as myself, with wonder, if not with fear. the yelling of indians, barking of dogs, crying of children, running of the multitude, discharge of musketry, and flourish of flags, was noise in the extreme. at ten o'clock i preached to about forty in english, the first sermon ever preached here, and at p. m. i addressed, through mr. johnson, more than twice that number of french, half-breeds and indians; many of the latter of whom for the first time listened to the word of life. all listened with attention and interest. my interpreter sat on my right, while a chief occupied a seat at my left. around and below me, on the floor, sat his men, women and children, in a state of almost entire nudity, many of whom had no more than a cloth about the loins, and a blanket, but some of the children not even a blanket,--all with their pipes and tobacco pouches, painted with all the variety of figures that can be imagined." from fond du lac he proceeded with the expedition up the st. louis river, crossing the falls by a portage, and ascending to the point nearest sandy lake, which was reached by a portage. the expedition proceeded up the mississippi to leech lake. learning from the indians at this point that cass lake, the reputed source of the mississippi, was not the real source, the expedition proceeded, under the guidance of a chief and a number of his tribe, to ascend the river further. when they reached the lake, now known as itasca, five of the party, lieut. allen, schoolcraft, houghton, johnson, and boutwell, were sent in canoes with indian guides to explore the shores of the lake. no inlet being found the party came to the conclusion that this was, as the indians claimed, the true source of the mississippi river. mr. schoolcraft being satisfied as to the correctness of the observations, landed his party on an island near the middle of the lake. he was puzzled to know what name to give the lake, and asked mr. boutwell if he knew of any word that would express the term "true head of the river." mr. boutwell said he could think of no single word that would express it, but there were two latin words that would answer the purpose, and those were _veritas_--true, and _caput_--head. mr. schoolcraft immediately wrote on a piece of paper the two words, and then erasing the first syllable of the first word and the last syllable of the latter, joined the remaining syllables. he then planted the stars and stripes on a little eminence, and formally christened the lake "itasca." they then proceeded to descend the mississippi. "as we were passing through the outlet of the lake," said mr. boutwell, "i stopped my canoe on the shore and jumped across the mississippi. i considered that a great thing to relate in after years." the party with their own boats descended the mississippi, distributing tobacco, medals and flags to indians on their way.[e] "when i see the great cities of minneapolis and st. paul now," said mr. boutwell, "i have to reflect that when we made our memorable trip down the river in we stopped at st. anthony falls, and i stood on the east bank and looked across the river in profound admiration of the most beautiful landscape i had ever seen, with only a few head of government cattle belonging at fort snelling grazing upon it. the whole country on both sides of the river was as god had made it. when we passed the locality of st. paul there was not even an indian tepee to be seen." the party halted at a sioux indian village at kaposia, a few miles below st. paul, and after a short consultation proceeded to the mouth of the st. croix, and ascending the st. croix to its source, made a portage of two miles to the source of the burnt wood river, which they descended to lake superior, and thence returned to their starting place. in the following year mr. boutwell established a mission at leech lake. in giving an account of his reception by the indians, he says: "when i arrived the men, with a few exceptions, were making their fall hunts, while their families remained at the lake and its vicinity to gather their corn and make rice. a few lodges were encamped quite near. these i began to visit, for the purpose of reading, singing, etc., in order to interest the children and awaken in them the desire for instruction. i told them about the children at mackinaw, the sault, and at la pointe, who could read, write and sing. to this they would listen attentively, while the mother would often reply: 'my children are poor and ignorant.' to a person unaccustomed to indian manners and indian wildness it would have been amusing to have seen the little ones, as i approached their lodge, running and screaming, more terrified, if possible, than if they had met a bear robbed of her whelps. it was not long, however, before most of them overcame their fears; and in a few days my dwelling, a lodge which i occupied for three or four weeks, was frequented from morning till evening by an interesting group of boys, all desirous to learn to read, sing, etc. to have seen them hanging, some on one knee, others on my shoulder, reading and singing, while others, whether from shame or fear i know not, who dared not venture within, were peeping in through the sides of the cottage, or lying flat upon the ground and looking under the bottom, might have provoked a smile; especially to have seen them as they caught a glance of my eye, springing upon their feet and running like so many wild asses colts. the rain, cold and snow were alike to them, in which they would come, day after day, many of them clad merely with a blanket and a narrow strip of cloth about the loins. the men at length returned, and an opportunity was presented me for reading to them. the greater part listened attentively. some would come back and ask me to read more. others laughed, and aimed to make sport of both me and my mission." he continued to labor here until , when the indians becoming troublesome, and having murdered aitkin, an agent of the fur company, he deemed it advisable to remove the mission to pokegama lake. he labored here faithfully, much respected by the indians for his firmness and christian devotion. in he removed to stillwater and settled on a farm near the city, where he is spending the remainder of his days, cared for by his affectionate daughter kate and her kind husband, ----jones. though infirm in body on account of advanced age his mind is clear and his memory retentive. he enjoys the respect accorded to venerable age, and that which pertains to an early and middle life spent in unusual toils and hardships in the noblest work intrusted to the hands of man. mrs. hester crooks boutwell deserves honorable mention as the early companion of the devoted missionary. she was the daughter of ramsey crooks, of new york, an indian trader. her mother was a half-breed ojibway woman. hester crooks was born on drummond island, lake huron, may , . her father gave her a superior education at mackinaw mission. she was a woman of tall and commanding figure, her black hair and eyes indicating her indian origin. she was a fluent conversationalist, and careful and tidy in her personal appearance. she died in stillwater in , leaving a family of seven children. chengwatana. this town derived its name from the chippewa words, "cheng-wa" (pine) and "tana" (city), applied to an indian village which from time immemorial had been located near the mouth of cross lake. this locality had long been a rallying point for indians and traders. when the writer visited it, in , it had the appearance of an ancient place of resort. half-breeds and whites with indian wives settled here, and in there were several log houses, and a hotel kept by one ebenezer ayer. there was also a dam built for sluicing logs. among the early settlers were duane porter, george goodwin, herman trott, john g. randall, emil, gustave and adolph munch. mr. trott built a fine residence on the shore of cross lake, afterward the home of s. a. hutchinson. the munch brothers built a store and made other improvements. john g. randall, in - - , manufactured lumber, ran it down the kanabec and st. croix rivers to rush seba, sunrise and taylor's falls. in , and soon after the building of the government road to superior city, a post office and a stage route from st. paul to superior city were established. the dam, to which reference has been made, was built in , by elam greely. it is at the outlet of cross lake and has ten feet head. the flowage covers many thousands of acres. the ownership has changed several times. the tolls levied amount to from ten to fifteen cents per thousand feet. the chartered operators control the flowage completely, opening and shutting gates at their pleasure. many of the first settlers removed to other localities. mr. trott and the munch brothers to st. paul, j. g. randall to colorado, and louis ayd to taylor's falls. in an effort was made to found a village on the site of the old indian town of chengwatana. judd, walker & co. and daniel a. robertson surveyed and platted the village of alhambra, but the name was not generally accepted, and the old indian name of chengwatana superseded it. the town of chengwatana was organized in . the first supervisors were duane porter, resin denman and ferdinand blank. louis ayd was born in germany in ; came to america in and settled in chengwatana. he served three and a half years as a soldier during the rebellion, and was seriously injured in the service. on his return he settled in taylor's falls. he is a well-to-do farmer and dealer in live stock for the meat market. he has been a member of the roman catholic church from childhood. he was married to rosabella hoffman, of hudson, wisconsin, in . duane porter, the son of a surgeon in the united states army in the war of , was born in washington county, new york, in ; came west as far as illinois in , and to st. croix falls in . he was married in to mary lapraire, and in the same year located at chengwatama. his occupation is that of an explorer and lumberman. he has ten children living. s. a. hutchinson.--mr. hutchinson was a native of maine, and while yet a youth came to the valley of the st. croix, and located at chengwatana, where he married a chippewa woman, and raised a family of half-breed children. "gus" hutchinson, as he was familiarly called, had many noble traits of character and was very popular with his associates. he had a well trained mind; was skilled as a lumberman and explorer, and was of a genial disposition, honest in heart and true in his friendships. he was elected sheriff of pine county, and served four years. on the night of aug. , , he was found in a sitting posture on his bed, lifeless, a rifle ball having pierced his heart. it appeared, on investigation, that his oldest son wanted to marry an indian girl, to which his father objected. on the night after the murder the marriage took place in indian style. suspicion pointing strongly toward mother and son, they were arrested, and an indictment found by the grand jury against the son. he was tried and acquitted. hinckley. the township of hinckley was organized in . it includes a large area of land; heavily timbered with pine and hardwood. the soil is varied, consisting of black and yellow sand loam with clay subsoil. it abounds in meadows, marshes, tamarack swamps, pine and hardwood ridges, and is capable of cultivation. the village of hinckley lies midway between st. paul and duluth, on the st. paul & daluth railroad. it was founded soon after the completion of the road. the manitoba railroad passes through the village, running from st. cloud to superior. it was incorporated in . the following were the first officers: president, james j. brennan; recorder, s. w. anderson; trustees, james morrison, nels parson, john perry; treasurer, john burke; justices of the peace, john brennan, a. b. clinch; constable, andrew stone. prior to this incorporation, hinckley had suffered considerably from the lawlessness of its occasional or transient residents and visitors, and the large majority of the vote in favor of incorporation is justly considered as a triumph of law and order. the village has a saw mill doing a large business, a good depot, round house, four hotels, several stores, shops, and fine residences, a commodious school house, and two churches--a lutheran and catholic. the minneapolis & manitoba railroad connects here with the st. paul & duluth railroad, and is being extended to superior. james morrison was born on cape breton island in . mr. morrison was one of the first settlers of hinckley, having come to the settlement in , in the employ of the st. paul & duluth railroad. he has followed farming and hotel keeping. he is an active and industrious man, the proprietor of a large hotel, and a member of the presbyterian church. sandstone village is located in the northwest quarter of section , township , range . it contains about forty dwellings, three large boarding houses, two stores, one hotel and a stone saw mill with diamond-toothed saw, built by ring & tobin, at a cost of $ , . the stone quarries of the kettle river & sandstone company are located on sections , and , in township , range , and extend two and three-quarters miles on each side of kettle river. the first work in opening the quarries was done aug. , . the village plat was surveyed in june, , and a post office established there the february preceding, w. h. grant, jr., being the first postmaster. the saw mill and the quarries give employment to about four hundred men. sandstone is located on the old site of fortuna. the kettle river railroad was built to the quarries in , from the st. paul & duluth railroad, a distance of five miles. the manitoba railroad, running to superior, passes through the village. william h. grant, sr., one of the founders of hinckley, and the proprietor and founder of the sandstone enterprise, was born dec. , , at lyndborough, new hampshire. he received his education at hancock academy, new hampshire, and yates academy, orleans county, new york. he studied law and was admitted to practice in at hillsborough, new hampshire. he came to st. paul in , where he still resides, his property interests at sandstone being immediately under the super vision of his son, w. h. grant, jr. he sold his interest in may, , for $ , . he was married to martha mckean in new hampshire, january, . kettle river. the town of kettle river, including townships and , lying on the west line of the county, was organized in . s. s. griggs was chairman of the first board of supervisors. the town contains but one school district. the first settler was s. s. griggs, who, in company with john s. prince, of st. paul, built a saw mill at the st. paul & duluth railroad crossing on kettle river, in - . this was not a successful venture. a post office was established at the mill, and s. s. griggs was appointed postmaster. the manitoba and st. paul & duluth railroads pass through the town from south to north. the township now has no settlement except about twenty-four families at the station and village. it is heavily timbered with pine and hardwood. there are meadows, marshes and tamarack swamps, fine streams and beautiful lakes, and much excellent farming land besides. the pine lakes in township , range , are beautiful sheets of water. there are no good roads or public improvements. john c. hanley was born in covington, kentucky, and was educated at oxford college, ohio. he came to st. paul in , as a machinist and millwright. he was married in , at st. anthony, to sophia ramsdale. in he enlisted in company m, minnesota mounted cavalry, a company recruited principally at sunrise, chisago county, by capt. james starkey. he was commissioned second lieutenant and was with gen. sibleys expedition against the sioux. subsequently he received a captain's commission, and recruited company m, second minnesota cavalry, stationed on the frontier. he was mustered out in . he resides at kettle river. mission creek was organized as a town in . the first supervisors were m. thomas, t. johnson, wm. mckean; messrs. h. a. taylor and philip riley & co., of st. paul, were the first operators here. they built a saw mill with a capacity of , , feet per annum. this property has changed owners, and is now held by the john martin lumber company, of st. paul. it was burned down in , but was immediately rebuilt. pine city. the town of pine city was organized in . the first supervisors were hiram brackett, h. b. hoffman and james griffith. the village of pine city was platted in . the original proprietors were james and stephen h. petrie, catherine sloan and luther mendenhall. the survey was made by b. w. brunson. wm. branch acted as attorney and the acknowledgment was made by j. j. egan, notary public, of st. louis county. the village was organized in , but the officers did not qualify until the following year. the oldest settler was probably a mr. kirkland, of quincy, illinois, who worked for some time on the banks of cross lake, on the present site of pine city, hoping to be able to plant a colony there, but, according to the testimony of mrs. e. t. ayer, the missionary became disheartened by the indian troubles, and left in , abandoning his scheme. the completion of the railroad which crosses the kanabec river at this point gave a great impetus to the prosperity of the village and neighborhood. it now contains a fine court house, built at a cost of $ , , roman catholic, presbyterian and lutheran churches, good buildings for graded and common schools, and three hotels. pine city has besides a pleasant park, the gift of capt. richard g. robinson, which has been adorned and embellished and named after the donor, "robinson park." richard g. robinson was born in jackson county, iowa, in ; he moved thence with his parents to illinois, and to st. croix falls in , where he followed lumbering, scaling, surveying and exploring. he lived at st. croix and taylor's falls until , when he received the appointment of land examiner for the lake superior & mississippi railroad company. he was in the employ of the company twelve years, making his home at pine city, where he still lives, engaged in lumbering and real estate. he was married to catharine a. fullenwider, of iowa. mrs. robinson died at pine city in . hiram brackett was born in , in china, maine, and came to pine city in from aroostook county, maine. he was among the first to make improvements. he built a hotel and was the first postmaster in the town. he died in , leaving an estimable widow, three sons, john, albert and frank, and two daughters, emily, married to henry a. linn, of milwaukee, and louise, married to henry d. crohurst, of pine city. randall k. burrows, a native of connecticut, came to pine city in , and, with adolph munch, built a large stave mill on the shores of cross lake. this proved an unfortunate investment, resulting in litigation, during the progress of which the mill was destroyed by fire, in . mr. burrows was an active, enthusiastic man, and worked hard for the interests of pine city, filling many positions of trust. he was elected to the state senate from the twenty-eighth district, in . his seat was contested by john hallburg, of centre city. the senate referred the question to the people, but in the election that followed ( ) he was defeated. in he removed to dakota, where he died three years later. john s. ferson came from michigan to pine city in . during that and the succeeding year he was principal in building a first class steam saw mill. it was located on a bay in the western part of the city. this mill was burned in , rebuilt and burned again. mr. ferson has since removed to dakota. samuel millet settled in pine city in , and in erected the bay view house, on an elevated plateau commanding a fine view of cross lake and kanabec river. mr. millet died in , leaving a widow, two sons and three daughters. rock creek was organized march, . the first supervisors were enoch horton, frank england, and s. m. hewson. obadiah hewsom was town clerk. enoch horton and c. w. gill were justices of the peace. mr. horton was the first settler, he having come to the county in . the year following he raised the first crop. mr. horton was from colchester, new york. he was born in , and came to minnesota in . he was the first postmaster at rock creek. other settlers came in slowly. edgerton, gill & co. built a saw mill in , with a capacity of , , feet. this property has changed hands several times. capt. enoch horton commenced official life at the age of twenty-two years, in new york, where he served twenty-eight years as justice of the peace and county judge. he served during the rebellion as captain of a company of sharpshooters. royalton was organized in . the first supervisors were edward peterson, alexis kain and joseph heiniger. it is a good farming township with many good farms. the first settlement was made by elam greely, in , who made a farm and built a large barn, hauling the lumber from marine mills, a distance of seventy miles. the town was named in honor of royal c. gray, who located on the greely farm in , in the northwest quarter of section , township , range , on the banks of the kanabec river. windermere was organized as a town jan. , . the first supervisors were august schog, william champlain and frank bloomquist. the towns of kettle river, hinckley and pine city were organized, and chengwatana reorganized by special act of the legislature in , and at that time embraced all the territory in the county. since , mission creek, rock creek and royalton have been set off from pine city and windermere from kettle river. the following villages were platted at the dates named: neshodana, by clark, cowell & foster, in townships and , ranges and , in ; fortuna, by w. a. porter, surveyor, at the crossing of kettle river and the military road, january, ; st. john's, by m. l. benson, surveyor, in section , township , range , october, ; midway, by frank b. and julia l. lewis, proprietors, in the northwest quarter of section , township , range , september, . a rock creek murder. a man passing under the name of harris had been arrested for stealing horses. george hathaway started with the prisoner to sunrise. five days afterward hathaway's dead body was found, and the inquest decided that he probably met his death by stabbing or shooting at the hands of his prisoner, who made his escape, and was never again heard from. hathaway was a native of passadumkeag, maine. the burning of a jail. march , , a couple of young men, john cope and william leonard, were arrested for drunkenness and disorderly conduct, and confined in the pine city jail, a wooden structure. about three o'clock the next morning the jail was found to be on fire. all efforts to extinguish the flames or rescue the unhappy prisoners were unavailing. the fire originated from within, in all probability from the careless action of the prisoners themselves in striking matches, either for the purpose of smoking or of exploring their cells. a disfigured family. mr. redman, the agent at the kettle river railroad station, called my attention to the fact that old batice is singularly disfigured. he was born without thumbs or big toes. the fingers and remaining toes resemble birds' claws. two of the fingers of each hand and two of the toes on each foot are united to the tips but have distinct nails. of his four children three are disfigured like the father. his grandchildren are many of them worse than himself, one having but one finger. indian faith cure. a woman at pokegama was badly burned by the explosion of gunpowder while she was putting it in a flask. her face became terribly swollen and black. the missionaries did what they could for her, but thought she must die. after two days the indian doctors held a medicine dance for her benefit. after they had gone through with their magic arts the woman arose, and, without any assistance, walked around distributing presents to the performers of the ceremony. it was truly wonderful. she recovered rapidly. indian graves. the chippewas bury their dead much as the whites do. the body is deposited in a grave and covered with earth. a low wooden covering, somewhat like the roof of a house, is reared above it, the gables resting on the ground. the roof is covered with white or bleached muslin, and surmounted by a board cross. an aperture about six inches square is left in each end of the structure. the head of the grave is toward the west, and here are deposited offerings of fruits and trinkets of various kinds. we found at one grave a broken saucer, an oyster can filled with blueberries, a large red apple, and a pair of old shoes. friends of the deceased visit the graves for one or two years, renewing their tributes of affection, and bringing offerings of fruit according to the season, and various foods, from acorns to dried venison, but in time these visits are discontinued and the graves are neglected and forgotten. stoicism of the indian. on the banks of the kettle river a five-year-old boy burned his hand badly. the mother, after examining the wound, decided that it was incurable, ordered the boy to place his hand upon a block, and by a single blow from a common hatchet severed it from the wrist. the boy endured the suffering without flinching. old batice, _alias_ "kettle," lived on kettle river in . counting by moons he claims to have lived there ninety-nine years. he is certainly very old. he says that he has always been a friend to the whites, and that in the sioux outbreak of he counseled his people to remain quiet; that he was the enemy of the sioux, three of whom he had killed and scalped. to commemorate his warlike deeds in slaughtering his enemies, he wore three large eagle feathers in his gray hair. he claims to be half french. an indian dance. in june, , the indians were practicing a new dance near the kettle river railroad station, part of which it was my privilege to witness. the dance house was a rudely constructed pole frame covered with birch bark, fastened down with willow twigs. about thirty dancers, male and female, and of all ages, were crowded in the dance house, sweating, grunting, hopping and bounding at the tap of a deer skin drumhead, and the "chi-yi-chi-yi-chi-hoo" of a quartette of boys and girls, squatted in a corner of the bark house. the din was incessant, the chant of the singers, or howlers, monotonous and wearisome, yet the dancers stepped and bounded to their rude music as readily as do civilized dancers to the more exquisite music of stringed instruments. this dance was the same that so frightened the burnett county people, and required at least ten days for its complete performance. a few minutes' observation amply satisfied us, and we gladly withdrew. footnotes: [e] several years prior to this william morrison had a trading station upon the shores of this lake, and is probably the first white man who visited it, but it does not appear that he identified it as the source of the mississippi. chapter xi. kanabec county. kanabec county, prior to , was included in st. croix county, wisconsin; thence until it was a part of ramsey county, minnesota; until a part of chisago county; and thence until its organization in , a part of pine county. it was attached for judicial purposes at various times to chisago, isanti and pine counties. in it was organized for judicial purposes, judge crosby holding the first term of court at brunswick. the second term was held at mora in , in the new court house. the writer, when a member of the minnesota senate in , selected the name and introduced the bill for the formation of the county. its boundaries are aitkin county on the north, pine on the east, isanti on the south, and mille lacs on the west. it is well watered and drained by the kanabec and its tributaries. this river is navigable to brunswick, and one of its tributaries, rice river, is navigable six miles from its mouth to rice lake. the soil is a rich, sandy loam, deep, strong and productive. one-fifth of the entire surface was originally covered with pines. about , acres are natural meadows, while much of the remainder is covered with hardwood, and a small portion is brush prairie, which can be easily rendered fit for cultivation. the best crops are wheat, oats and potatoes, but indian corn can be grown profitably as compared with other localities in minnesota. small fruits, wild and cultivated, grow luxuriantly. cranberries have been shipped in considerable quantities. redtop, clover, and timothy grow rank, and are profitably cultivated. upward of , tons of hay are cured annually. the lumbering interests are still important, about , , feet of logs being annually driven to the stillwater boom. this county is spotted with lakes and abounds in streams capable of being utilized as water powers. good building granite is found on the kanabec river above mora, which will eventually be quarried and exported. the first permanent settlers were george l. staples and james pennington, who came in . they were followed by stephen w. tolman, alvin de wolf, john l. spence and others. gov. sibley appointed the following as the first board of officers, june , : county commissioners, geo. l. staples, chairman; daniel gordon, benj. l. gifford; clerk and register of deeds, james c. morrison; treasurer, alvah lougee; sheriff, benj. l. gifford. the first election was held in october, . the following were elected county officers: county commissioners, geo. l. staples, chairman; james pennington, geo. morrison; auditor, benj. bill. in the bill organizing the county, brunswick was designated as the county seat, and so remained until , when by popular vote mora was selected. in the county built a court house at a cost of $ , , and a jail costing $ , . in the county built a bridge across the kanabec at brunswick, the bridge and its approaches being , feet in length, at a cost of $ , . in the county built a bridge across the kanabec at grass lake at a cost of $ , . as this bridge obstructed navigation in , the county, at a cost of $ , , rebuilt it in such a way that steamers could pass underneath. in another bridge was built across the kanabec in the town of arthur at a cost of $ , . the first post office was established at brunswick in , geo. l. staples, postmaster. the first mail was from anoka via cambridge to brunswick. in rev. w. s. boutwell preached the first sermon within the present limits of the county. the first deed recorded was a warranty deed from ralph potter to john a. snyder, both of illinois, in june, , conveying lands in sections and , township , range . the second deed recorded was from david bagley to hersey, hall, whitney and fenno, of boston, and isaac staples of stillwater, conveying the northeast quarter of section , township , range , and other lands. arthur. the town of arthur includes township , ranges , and . it was organized in . the first supervisors were: ira a. conger, andrew e. westling and charles a. staples; clerk, stanton d. seavey. the village of mora was the first settlement. anna c. larson was the first child born in the town. the first marriage was that of frederick g. turner and edith perkins. the first death was that of henry rust, in , killed by indians. there is one house of worship, at what is known as the swedish mission. mora, a village, platted in , is located in section , township , range , on the hinckley branch of the manitoba railroad. myron r. kent, owner of the town plat, made the first improvements, building a hotel and post office, of which he became postmaster. alvah j. conger opened the first store in . the village now contains a court house, school house, two hotels, five stores, three saloons, and many fine residences. lake mora, a lovely sheet of deep, blue water, about one hundred and fifty acres in extent, is located within the village limits. the village is beautifully situated on a plateau on the east side of kanabec river. stephen l. danforth lived in the county of kanabec during the ' s. his occupation was that of a farmer or lumberman. he died in stillwater in . n. h. danforth, brother of s. l., also settled here in the ' s, and still resides here, an active business man. alvah j. and ira conger are cousins. they came from maine to minnesota in . alvah j. kept the tombler house in wyoming. subsequently he removed to cambridge, where he kept a hotel and store, and thence removed to pine city, where he kept a store until , when he moved to mora. he was married to charlotte pennington. they have no children. ira conger has been actively engaged in business at cambridge and other places, and moved to mora in , where he is proprietor of a hotel and store. his oldest son, john, has charge of his business interests. bronson. this village is yet unplatted. it is located in section , range , on the line of the manitoba railroad. a post office was established here in , of which frank p. burleigh is postmaster. adjoining and including this village is the large farm of isaac staples, including , acres, of which six hundred and fifty acres are under cultivation. the improvements on the farm are two large barns, one store, one blacksmith shop, one wood working shop, and commodious dwellings for employes. this farm is headquarters for the lumbering interests of mr. staples in kanabec county. brunswick includes township , ranges and . the town was organized in . the first supervisors were eric hokansen, john rines and haquin ekman. the first school was taught by charlotte pennington, in . the first death was that of ---- cowan, killed accidentally, in . there are two church organizations, swedish baptist and swedish lutheran. stephen e. tallman built a saw mill in , and a flour mill in . the village of brunswick is located in the southwest quarter of section , township ; range . it was platted in , by isaac and george staples. it was originally designated as the county seat. ground house city was platted by isaac staples for hersey, staples & co., jan , , in section , township , range . james pennington was born in queensborough, new brunswick, in . he lived in houlton, maine, fifteen years, and came to kanabec county in with his family, who were the first permanent settlers in the county. mr. pennington farmed and lumbered. he died in december, . mrs. pennington died in . six sons and three daughters are living. the sons are residents of minnesota. the daughters are married as follows: elisabeth to ---- grant, of detroit, minnesota; charlotte to a. j. conger, of mora, minnesota; augusta to b. c. newport, of pipestone, minnesota. george l. staples settled in section , township , range , in . he lived there eight years and filled various responsible offices. he was an upright, conscientious man, much respected by all who knew him. in he removed to monticello, minnesota, and died in , leaving a widow, five sons and a daughter. mr. staples raised the first crop in the county, opened the first store, and gave the name of brunswick to the town. isaac edwin staples, son of george, was the first white child born in the county. he was clerk of court in morrison county in . daniel gordon was born in readfield, maine, in . in he settled in the southeast quarter of section , township , range . he was married to widow tallman in brunswick. this was the first marriage in the town. mrs. gordon died in june, . grass lake includes township , range . it was organized in . it is thickly settled, mostly by swedes. they have good farms, roads and schools. the first settler was solomon anderson; the second, benjamin norton; both were farmers. there are in this town three houses of worship, two belonging to the swedish mission, and one to the baptists. there are five school houses. the remainder of the county, consisting mostly of pine lands, and including nine townships, is without organization or township government. it is divided into three assessment districts over which the county exercises jurisdiction, making levies and collecting taxes. isanti county. isanti county lies directly west of chisago and south of kanabec. it is bounded on the west and south by sherburne, mille lacs and anoka counties, and contains about fourteen towns. the soil is well adapted for agriculture. the county has no large lakes, but is well watered by tributaries of rum and sunrise rivers. it is well timbered in the north with sugar maple. the settlers are chiefly scandinavians, who, by their industry, have made the plains and oak ridges to blossom with clover and the cereals. the county was organized feb. , . it took its name from a tribe of indians who some time ago occupied the country about mille lacs. the first board of county commissioners consisted of oscar smith, hugh wylie and elbridge g. clough. the first county officers were: william tubbs, auditor; f. h. moon, treasurer; g. g. griswold, register of deeds; stephen hewson, judge of probate; h. m. davis, clerk; george l. henderson, sheriff. the first court was held by judge c. e. vanderburgh in october, . prior to this time isanti had been attached to auoka county for judicial purposes. cambridge, the county seat of isanti, was incorporated as a village in . it is pleasantly located on the west side of rum river. it has one flouring mill, a newspaper office, and several stores, shops, dwellings and churches. the county buildings are neat and convenient. the new court house cost $ , . it is worthy of mention that b. a. latta, as county treasurer, paid the first money into the hands of the state treasurer for war purposes. the first postmasters in the county were van vliet ainsley, of spencer brook, and g. g. griswold, in . north branch town lies on the headwaters of the sunrise river. it was settled, as early as , by john p. owens, w. a. hobbs, b. t. huntley, and john schinler. it was organized as a town in , john p. owens being chairman of the first board of supervisors. john schinler raised the first crop, in . schools were established in . oxford. rensselaer grant, m. hurley and stephen hewson settled within the present limits of this town in . at that time the town was not organized. in it was included within the limits of north branch, but in the town of oxford was set off as now defined. the first supervisors were john bachelor, p. lillygrin and p. berg. stephen hewson was town clerk, and has retained the office ever since. a post office was established in . stephen hewson was postmaster, and has held the office continuously ever since. the town is well settled by farmers. in a cyclone passed through the town, destroying everything in its track, which was about twenty rods wide. not a building was left on the homestead of mr. hewson. his fine large barn was torn to pieces and the fragments scattered for the distance of a mile. stephen hewson is a native of england, which he left in . he resided in canada a few years, then came to chicago, and later to minnesota. he was for awhile a partner in the publishing firm of e. s. goodrich & co., then proprietors of the st. paul _pioneer_. he made his present home in oxford in , and has since that time been intimately identified with its history and that of the county of isanti. he was a representative from the fourth district in the legislature of . he has filled the offices of county auditor, county commissioner and judge of probate court. as an ordained minister of the methodist church he takes an active interest in religious matters, serving as superintendent of the sunday-school, and occasionally filling the pulpit. five of his daughters are school teachers, one of whom, mary, in , taught the first school in oxford. he remains hale and hearty in his seventy-seventh year. george w. nesbit was born in , in delaware county, new york. he received an academic education. he came in to st. francis, anoka county, minnesota, and in to isanti county. he has been engaged in farming and selling goods, and is an energetic, busy man. he made the first pre-emption timber claim on the mille lacs reservation, which was rejected. mr. nesbit was married in new york and has a family of six children. rensselaer grant was born in new york in . his father was a native of scotland but emigrated to the united states and took part in the war of . mr. grant was married in saratoga county, new york, in , to libiah mitchell. the grants moved to illinois in , and to isanti county in . mr. and mrs. grant died at north branch, in , leaving, three married sons, two living in isanti county, and one at rush city, and three daughters, the eldest married to j. w. delamater, the second to w. h. hobbs, the third living in st. paul. mille lacs county. this county is bounded on the north by mille lacs lake and aitkin county, on the east by isanti, kanabec and aitkin, on the south by sherburne and on the west by morrison and benton counties, and includes about townships extending from south to north a distance of miles, and having a breadth of miles, excepting the two upper series of towns, which have a width of miles. it is, excepting two agricultural towns in the south, heavily timbered, chiefly with pine. it is well watered by rum river and its tributaries, and by the body of water known as mille lacs, a large picturesque lake, which covers over one hundred and five sections of aitkin, crow wing and mille lacs counties. the tributaries of the st. croix also drain the northeastern part of the county. the southern townships consist of prairies and oak openings, the northern and central parts being covered with hardwood and pine. immense quantities have been already marketed. the hardwood ridges and flats offer good farming lands, and the wild meadows, scattered over the county, excellent hay and pasturage. mille lacs lake, the largest inland lake in minnesota, is a beautiful and picturesque sheet of water, with receding wooded shores, with but little low land adjoining. the waters are deep and clear and abundantly supplied with fish. this lake, when reached by railways, will be one of the most pleasant summer resorts in the northwest. it already attracts the attention of the tourist. a steamer built in floats upon its waters. the lake is about eighteen miles long by from twelve to fifteen wide, and covers about six townships. three small islands gem its surface, one of which, from its columnar appearance, seems to be of volcanic or igneous formation. the mille lacs reservation covers about four fractional towns, bordering the southern shore of the lake. since the treaty these lands have been covered by pre-emptions, soldiers' warrants and half-breed scrip, but are held by a doubtful tenure owing to the uncertain and various rulings of the land department. under the provisions of the treaty, the indians, a band of chippewas, were allowed to retain possession until ordered to remove. in anticipation of this order settlements have been made at various periods, and patents have been issued to the pre emptors in a few cases, but in many cases refused. half-breed scrip has been laid upon thousands of acres under one administration at washington, the permission to be countermanded by another. meanwhile the indians, not having received the order for removal, claim to be the owners of the land, and with some show of justice. in the manitoba railroad company built a road through the county from east to west, through township , ranges and . in the early divisions of minnesota into counties, the territory of mille lacs was included in ramsey and benton counties. prior to its present organization, a county called monroe, covering the territory of mille lacs, was established but never organized. by legislative enactment in mille lacs county was established and organized by the people in , the counties of which its territory was originally a part concurring, and princeton was made the county seat. in there had been effected the organization of one town in the county, known as princeton. this has since been subdivided into princeton greenbush, and milo. the officers of the town organization in were: supervisors, c. w. houston, charles pratt, joseph l. cater. the first county election, held april, , resulted in the election of the following officers: county commissioners, joseph l. cater, chairman; samuel orton, c. s. moses; auditor and register of deeds, w. w. payne; clerk of court, s. m. byers; treasurer, e. j. whitney; sheriff, wm. mccauley; probate judge, samuel ross. the first term of court was held june , , e. c. vanderburgh, presiding judge. the first recorded deed was from e. j. whitney to isaac staples, and bears date aug. , . milacca has a pleasant site on the manitoba railroad, on the banks of rum river at the crossing of the manitoba & superior and the junction of the elk river & princeton railroad. the manitoba company have a good saw mill here, with a capacity of , feet per day, built at a cost of $ , . a planing mill is attached. there is a good three story hotel, well kept, here. the village was surveyed and platted march , ; chas. keith, surveyor; james j. hill, president of the mille lacs lumber company, proprietor. it is located in the town of greenbush. bridgman village, located in the town of milo, has a steam saw mill, spoke and hub factory, around which are several residences. princeton. the village of princeton is located at the junction of the two branches of the rum river, on a beautiful prairie, surrounded by rich prairie and timber lands. the first log house was built in , and kept as a stopping place by a mulatto known as "banjo bill." this house is still standing. the first permanent settlers were a. b. damon, o. e. garrison, c. h. chadbourne, edwin allen, john w. allen, chas. whitcomb, joseph l. cater, w. f. dunham, and samuel ross. they were also the first settlers in the county, and came in - . in messrs. damon and allen farmed on the present site of the village. the village was surveyed and platted feb. , , by s. ross & co. s. ross also built a hotel where the north star hotel now stands. this year the first frame building was erected and used as a store. w. f. dunham built a steam saw mill. the first school house was built, although school organization was not effected until . james m. dayton taught the first school. a post office was established with o. e. garrison as postmaster. samuel ross brought the mail once a week from anoka. a congregational church was established, of which rev. royal twichell was chosen as pastor. the methodists organized a society the following year. the village was incorporated march , , by legislative enactment. the commissioners appointed under the organic act were e. c. giles, h. b. cowles, c. h. rines, b. f. whiting, and charles keith. at the election ordered by them the following officers were chosen: president, c. h. rines; trustees. f. m. campbell, isaiah s. mudgett, thomas f. caly; recorder, silas l. staples; treasurer, d. h. murray; justices of the peace, scott m. justice, charles keith. the princeton _appeal_ was established by rev. john quigley in , but discontinued in . in december, , robert c. dunn started the princeton _union_, which he still publishes. the manitoba branch railroad from elk river to milacca village passes through princeton. the first train arrived nov. , . the county contributed $ , in bonds at five per cent interest for twenty years, to aid in building the road. the st. paul, mille lacs, brainerd, leech lake & crookston railroad will, when completed, pass through princeton. an excellent school building was erected in , at a cost of about $ , . guy ewing is principal of the school, which is graded. the grand army of the republic have a post here known as the wallace rines post. the masons have an organization, with a splendid hall. a three story hotel, built by samuel ross, is kept by his only daughter, mrs. barker. a two story brick hotel, the commercial house, henry newbert, proprietor, a handsome structure, was built in . the mille lacs county bank, located here, has a paid up capital of $ , . charles erickson is president; l. p. hyberg, vice president; frank hewse, clerk. princeton has one steam saw mill, two flouring mills, one feed mill, two elevators with a capacity of , bushels, and one brewery. a court house and jail are in process of erection at an estimated cost of $ , . biographical. samuel ross was born aug. , . he attended western reserve college, but through ill health did not graduate. he came to iowa in , where he was married to mary vaughn in . he came to princeton in , where he took an active part in building up the town and county, filled many prominent and responsible positions in the village and county, and served as representative of the first state legislature. mrs. ross died in ; mr. ross died in , leaving an only daughter, olive r., widow of a. p. barker, who was a prominent lawyer of princeton. mrs. barker was elected superintendent of schools in , to which position she has been re-elected and is at present filling the office efficiently. she was the first female superintendent elected in minnesota. joseph l. cater was born in strafford county, new hampshire, in . he came to princeton in and engaged in farming. his name appears in all the original organizations of town and county. m. v. b. cater and sons have also been active and prominent citizens of princeton. m. v. b. cater died some years since. edwin allen, originally from welton, maine, came to princeton in and engaged in farming. john h. allen came from maine to princeton in , engaged in farming and became prominent as a public spirited citizen. he held various positions of trust in the county and was appointed receiver of the land office at fergus falls by president hayes, and resides there. a. b. damon came from maine to princeton in and made the first claim on the town site. c. h. chadbourne was born at lexington, massachusetts. at the age of sixteen he embarked in a seafaring life in which he continued nine years. mr. chadbourne, wishing to abandon his seafaring ways, and to put himself beyond danger of resuming them, came to the centre of the continent and located on a farm near princeton in . he has since followed farming continuously. his farm consists of acres under cultivation, of which is devoted to tame grass and pasturage, on which he feeds head of blooded stock. he has a large dairy which nets him $ , annually. he was a member of the state legislatures of - and was seven years county commissioner of sherburne county. mr. chadbourne was married in to deborah crowell. they have three sons and two daughters. chapter xii. chisago county. location--surface--scenery. chisago county, located on the west bank of the st. croix river, between the counties of pine on the north and washington on the south, the st. croix river on the east and the counties of isanti and anoka on the west, presents an agreeable variety of surface, upland and generally undulating, covered with hard and soft wood timber, well watered by lakes and streams. its principal streams are the st. croix and its tributaries, rush and sunrise rivers and goose creek, and its principal lakes are chisago, sunrise, green, rush, and goose lakes. its lake scenery is unsurpassed in beauty. the county takes the name of its largest and most beautiful lake. in its original, or rather aboriginal, form it was ki-chi-sago, from two chippewa words meaning "kichi," large, and "saga," fair or lovely. for euphonic considerations the first syllable was dropped. chisago lake. this lake is conspicuous for its size, the clearness of its waters, its winding shore and islands, its bays, peninsulas, capes, and promontories. it has fully fifty miles of meandering shore line. its shores and islands are well timbered with maple and other hard woods. it has no waste swamps, or marsh borders. when the writer first came to taylor's falls, this beautiful lake was unknown to fame. no one had seen it or could point out its location. indians brought fish and maple sugar from a lake which they called ki-chi-sago sagi-a-gan, or "large and lovely lake." this lake, they said, abounded with "kego," fish. in the writer, with bart emery, made a visit to this beautiful sheet of water. we found it what its indian name imports, "fair and lovely water." the government had, the year before, completed a survey of the lake, and it was high time that it should be given a name by which it should be designated on the map and recognized by civilized visitors. what name more beautiful and appropriate than that which the indians had already given it. that name we at once recognized and used all our influence to perpetuate under somewhat adverse influences; for swedish emigrants having settled in its neighborhood, a strong effort was made to christen it "swede lake," but the lake is to-day known as chisago, and chisago it is likely to remain. we believe in the policy of retaining the old indian names whenever possible. as a rule they are far more musical and appropriate than any we can apply. the indians have left us their lands, their lakes, their streams; let us accept with them the names by which they were known. some have been translated into english and appear on the maps as goose, elk, beaver and snake. by all means let us retranslate them in memory of the race that once owned them. dalles of st. croix. chisago county shares with polk county in the ownership of the wildest and most peculiar scenery in the valley of the st. croix. at taylor's falls, the head of navigation, the river flows between ledges of trap rock, varying in height from fifty to two hundred and fifty feet, for the most part perpendicular, but wildly irregular, as is common in trap rock formations. these ledges are crowned with pine trees and a dense undergrowth of bushes and vines. the prevailing color of the rock is a cold or bluish gray, but broken occasionally by brilliant patches of coloring, red, yellow or green, as they may be stained by oxides of the metals, or covered with lichens and mosses. this formation is known as "the dalles," sometimes improperly styled "dells." the rocks composing it are porphyritic trap, an igneous rock forced upward from the interior of the earth through crevices in the crust while still in a liquid state and then solidifying in masses, sometimes prismatic but oftener in irregular polygons, and broken by parallel lines of cleavage. some geological experts claim that these rocks are "in place" as forming a part of the original crust of the earth, but the balance of evidence seems to be in favor of their having been erupted at a comparatively modern period. this is evidenced by the presence of water-worn boulders and pebbles, imbedded in the trap, somewhat like plums in a pudding, while it was yet plastic; and now forming a species of conglomerate as hard and compact as the trap itself. these rocks are supposed to be rich in copper and silver, and miners have spent much time in prospecting for these metals. whatever the origin of the rocks, it is conceded that they were once plastic, at which time this region could not have been a safe or pleasant dwelling place for such beings as now inhabit the world. the theory of a comparatively recent eruption of these rocks is not a pleasant one, for the suggestion forces itself upon the mind that that which has been, at least in recent times, may occur again. the occasional recurrence of earthquakes on our western coast, and the recent severe disturbances in south carolina and georgia, raise the query whether this region may not again be visited with an outburst and overflow of trap, terrible and destructive as the first. the foundations, however, seem firm enough to last forever. the rocks are of unusual hardness, and the crust of the earth is probably as solid and thick here as elsewhere. the dalles proper are about one mile in length. the river, in its passage through them, varies in width from one hundred and fifty to three hundred feet. it was formerly reported unfathomable, but in recent years, owing to a filling up process caused by the debris of the log drivers, it is found to be not more than a hundred feet in its deepest place. the river makes an abrupt bend about a bold promontory of trap known as angle or elbow rock. to the first voyageurs this seemed to be the end of the river, and gave rise to the story that at this point the river burst out of the rocks. much of the frontage of the rocks upon the river is smooth and perpendicular, and stained with oxides of iron and copper. in places it is broken. the upper rocks are disintegrated by the action of rain and frost, and, where far enough from the river, have fallen so as to form a talus or slope of angular fragments to the water's edge. [illustration: the devil's chair.] the devil's chair. there are some instances in which, by the breaking away and falling of smaller rocks, larger rocks have been left standing in the form of columns. most notable of these are the "devil's pulpit," and the "devil's chair." the former, owing to surrounding shrubbery, is not easily seen. the latter is a conspicuous object on the western shore of the river a few rods below the lower landing. it stands on the slope formed by the debris of a precipice that rises here about feet above the river. its base is about feet above low water mark; the column itself reaches feet higher. it is composed of many angular pieces of trap, the upper portion bearing a rude resemblance to a chair. it is considered quite a feat to climb to the summit. the face of the rocks is disfigured by the names of ambitious and undeserving persons. the nuisance of names and advertisements painted upon the most prominent rocks in the dalles is one that every lover of nature will wish to have abated. to spend an hour climbing amongst these precipices to find in some conspicuous place the advertisement of a quack medicine, illustrates the adage: "there is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous." the wells. a more remarkable curiosity may be found on that bench or middle plateau of the dalles, lying between the upper and the lower taylor's falls landings, in what has been not inaptly styled "the wells." these are openings, or pits, not much unlike wells, in places where the trap is not more than feet above water level, varying in width from a few inches to or feet, the deepest being from to feet. these seem to have been formed by the action of water upon pebbles or boulders, much as "pot holes" are now being formed in the rocky bottoms of running streams. the water falls upon the pebbles or boulders in such a way as to cause them to revolve and act as a drill, boring holes in the rock proportioned to the force of the agencies employed. some of these boulders and pebbles, worn to a spherical shape, were originally found at the bottoms of these wells, but have been mostly carried away by the curious. some of the wells are cut through solid pieces of trap. the walls of others are seamed and jointed; in some cases fragments have fallen out, and in others the entire side of the wells has been violently disrupted and partly filled with debris. the extreme hardness of the trap rock militates somewhat against the theory of formation above given. it is, however, not improbable that this hardness was acquired after long exposure to the air. settlement and organization. in the history of st. croix falls mention has been made of some of the pioneers of chisago county. st. croix falls and taylor's falls, the pioneer settlement of chisago county, though a river divides them which is also the boundary line of two states, have much that is common in their early history. the inhabitants were always greatly interested in what was going on over the river. we may add, that although they now stand in the attitude of rival cities, their interests are still identical, and we believe that, but for the unwise policy of making st. croix river a state line, they might be to-day under one city government, and as compact and harmonious as though no st. croix river rolled between them. the river is their joint property; both have the same heritage of trap rocks and pines, the same milling privileges, the same lumbering interests, and, it must be confessed, they remain up to the present time about equally mated. j. r. brown was unquestionably the pioneer of the settlement. frank steele says he found j. r. brown trading, in , on the spot now the site of taylor's falls. he was not, however, the first white man upon the soil. there is some documentary evidence of the establishment by the french of a fort forty leagues up the st. croix some time between the years and . this fort was in all probability erected on the plateau below the dalles, the distance given, forty leagues, being exaggerated after the fashion of the early voyageurs. it was called fort st. croix. there was also a prehistoric settlement, the ruins of which the writer noted as early as , on the school land addition to taylor's falls. these were the foundations of nine houses, plainly visible. over some of them trees two feet in diameter were growing. the rock foundations ranged in size from twenty to thirty feet, with the hearth containing ashes underlying the debris of ages, on smooth hearthstones showing years of service, being apparently a century old. these were the homes, undoubtedly, of a civilized people, and we may claim for taylor's falls, chisago county, one of the first improvements made by whites in the limits of minnesota. during the last half of the last century a prominent trading post was established and maintained for many years on the st. croix river, which was founded by pierre grinow, and during the close of the last century it was in the charge of one james perlier, who afterward became one of the most useful citizens of green bay, wisconsin. lawrence barth was also here in . the evidence of the existence of this trading post rests upon traditions and the ruins referred to. recurring to the pioneer brown, the most irrepressible of all the advance guard of civilization, we find him only a transient inhabitant. he stayed long enough to cut , feet of pine logs from the present site of taylor's falls, when the neighborhood lost its attractions. these were the first pine saw logs cut in the st. croix valley. in a french trader, robinet, was located at the same place, but in the summer of the same year came mr. jesse taylor from fort snelling where he had been following the business of a stonemason. he had heard of the ratification of the indian treaty by congress, and he greatly coveted some of the rich lands brought into market by that treaty. mr. taylor, with an indian guide, came to the dalles of the st. croix. as mr. steele had already claimed the east side, mr. taylor concluded that he would claim the west side. returning to fort snelling he reported to an associate, benjamin f. baker, formed a partnership and returned with men, boats, provisions and building material, but on his return to the falls he found robinet, the trader, in a bark shanty (at the present junction of bridge and river streets). robinet was in actual possession of the coveted acres. robinet having no other function than that of a trader, and consequently having no serious designs on the lands was easily bought off, and baker & taylor, in august, , commenced improvements, building a log house, a blacksmith shop, a mill, and commencing a mill race which had to be blasted. they also built piers and a wing dam just above the present location of the bridge. the mill was located at what has since become the upper steamboat landing. mr. taylor named the lower falls baker's falls, and the settlement, taylor's place. when the town was platted, in , it was called taylor's falls. the name came also to be applied to the lower falls. the mill enterprise was a melancholy failure. the builders were not practical mill men. the improvements were expensive. the work of blasting rock and building made slow progress. there was no income as long as the mill was in process of building. in the midst of these embarrassments, in , mr. baker died. mr. taylor took entire possession with no other right than that of a squatter sovereign. in mr. taylor sold the unfinished mill to parties in osceola, and in everything movable was transferred to that place. the double log cabin remained, and there mr. taylor lived for eight years on the proceeds of the sale, performing in all that time no work more worthy of the historian's notice than fixing his name upon the settlement and falls. many of the later residents query as to why it was ever called taylor's falls. it takes a keen eye to discover any fall in the river at the point named. the falls indeed were once far more conspicuous than they are now, owing to the fact that a large rock rose above the water at the ordinary stage, around which the crowded waters roared and swirled. that rock, never visible in later days, was called death rock, because three hapless mariners in a skiff were hurled against it by the swift current and drowned. the old log house, the sole remnant of the baker and taylor project, if we may except some holes in the rock made by blasting, and some submerged ruins of the wing dam and pier, has passed through various changes. it has been used as a store, as a boarding house, as a warehouse, as a church, as a school house, and as a stable. part of it still remains and is habitable. it is located on lot , block . in jesse taylor sold his claim to joshua l. taylor for two hundred dollars. this claim, like most of the claims made prior to the survey of government lands, was not accurately defined. it included, however, all the lands, on the west side of the river, extending northward to the st. croix company's claim, at the upper falls, and including the present site of taylor's falls. aside from mill building, nothing was done in the way of improvements until , when jerry ross and benjamin f. otis commenced farming on what was subsequently known as the morton and colby farms. both raised potatoes and garden vegetables and built houses. this was the first cultivation of the soil in chisago county. in mr. otis sold his improvements to wm. f. colby, who, in that year, raised the first corn grown by white men in the county. in thornton bishop commenced improvements on a farm at the head of the rapids, six miles above taylor's falls. j. l. taylor, in , built a pre-emption shanty midway between the upper and lower falls. in he proved up his pre-emption to lots , and , section , township , range . n. c. d. taylor pre-empted the northeast quarter of the southeast quarter of section , and the west half of the same quarter section; also lot , section , township , range . in lewis barlow and wm. e. bush became citizens. an abstract of the canvassed returns of an election held november th shows but six votes in the settlement. in w. f. colby pre-empted the northeast quarter of section , township , range , and w. h. c. folsom the southeast quarter of the southeast quarter of the same. at a regular meeting of the st. croix county board, held at stillwater, april , , the following judges of election were appointed within the present limits of chisago county: st. croix falls precinct, wm. f. colby, wm. holmes, n. c. d. taylor; rush lake precinct, levi clark, walter carrier and richard arnold. at a meeting, held oct. , , the petition of lewis barlow and ten others, of st. croix falls precinct, was presented, asking for a special election, to elect two justices of the peace. their petition was granted. the poll was: wm. e. bush, one vote; john h. reid, six votes; ansel smith, five votes. reid and smith were declared elected. the first survey of town lots was made in , by theodore e. parker, of stillwater, and under this survey the village was legally established as taylor's falls. the first deeds recorded in chisago county were transcripts from washington county of lands consisting of town site property, dated , conveyed to w. h. c. folsom by j. l. and n. c. d. taylor. the movement for the organization of a new county from the northern part of washington commenced in the winter of - . a formidable petition to the legislature to make such organization, drawn up and circulated by hon. ansel smith, of franconia, and the writer, was duly forwarded, presented and acquiesced in by that body. the writer had been selected to visit the capital in the interest of the petitioners. some difficulty arose as to the name. the writer had proposed "chi-sa-ga." this indian name was ridiculed, and hamilton, jackson, franklin and jefferson were in turn proposed. the committee of the whole finally reported in favor of the name, chisaga, but the legislature, in passing the bill for our county organization, by clerical or typographical error changed the last "a" in "saga" to "o," which, having become the law, has not been changed. the eastern boundary of the county was fixed as the st. croix river; the southern boundary, the line between townships and ; the western, the line between ranges and , for three townships south, and the line between ranges and for the remaining townships north. to show how little was known of the geography of the section we refer to the record of the county commissioners of washington county, dated dec. , , at which st. croix district, the present chisago county, was established as "bounded on the north by sunrise river and on the west by line between ranges and "--an utter impossibility, as the sunrise river flows in a northerly direction entirely through the county and at its nearest point does not come within three miles of the range line mentioned. the election for the first board of county officers was held at the chisago house, oct. , . twenty-three votes were polled at this election. the following officers were elected: commissioners, samuel thomson, chairman; n. c. d. taylor, thomas f. morton; clerk of board and register of deeds, f. w. abbott; treasurer, w. h. c. folsom. the bill establishing the county provided that "the seat of justice of the county of chisago shall be at such point in said county as the first board of commissioners elected in said county shall determine." in accordance with this law, at the first meeting of the commissioners, held at the office of n. c. d. taylor in taylor's falls, jan. , , the town of taylor's falls was chosen as the county seat, "agreeable to the revised statutes, chapter st, section th." as the population of the county increased the project of moving the county seat to a more nearly central position was agitated. in a vote was taken which resulted in favor of its removal to centre city. the matter of the legality of the vote was referred to the court, and decided by judge welch adversely, on the ground that a majority of the voters of the county had not voted. the county seat consequently remained at taylor's falls. in another vote was taken by which the county seat was removed to chisago city, and there it remained under somewhat adverse circumstances. chisago city having but a small population and no conveniences for such a purpose, and being for several years without even a post office, repeated efforts were made for another removal, until in a vote to remove it to centre city carried. in january, , the records were removed. the county authorities issued $ , bonds for a court house which was erected on a point of land extending into chisago lake, a beautiful situation. the bonds have been paid and the county is without indebtedness, and has a surplus of about $ , . the town of amador comprises two eastern tiers of sections of township , range , and two fractional sections of township , range , fractional township , range , and one fractional section of township , range . the st. croix river forms its boundary on the north and east. the surface is undulating. the western and southern part is covered with hardwood timber and has rich soil. the northern part has oak openings and prairie, with soil somewhat varied, in some places more or less sandy. it is well watered and drained. thornton bishop, the first settler, came in , and located a farm on the banks of the st. croix, at the head of the rapids, in section . richard arnold settled on amador prairie in , and was followed by james p. martin, carmi p. garlick and others. garlick was a practicing physician, but engaged in other work. he built a steam saw mill and made many other improvements, among them laying out the village of amador in section , township , range . h. n. newbury, surveyor, not succeeding in his undertaking, issued the prospectus of a paper to be called the _st. croix eagle_ and to be published at taylor's falls. this failing he removed to osceola. amador was organized in . the first supervisors were c. p. garlick, r. arnold and james martin. a post office was established in ; henry bush, postmaster. mr. bush had a small farm at the mouth of deer creek, where he built a large public house, two stories high. this house burned down. he established a ferry across the st. croix. he had a large family of boys who roamed the woods freely until one of their number was lost. the other boys came home as usual but of one they could give no account. parties were organized for the search, which at last was given up as unsuccessful. a year afterward the bones of the missing boy were found some miles away, by the side of a log, where the little wanderer had doubtless perished of starvation and exposure. mr. bishop raised the first crops of the town. the first marriage was that of charles s. nevers and mary snell, by john winans, esq., feb. , . thornton bishop was a native of indiana. he came to st. croix falls in and was married to delia wolf in , by rev. w. d. boutwell, at the pokegama mission. this wife was a well educated half-breed. they raised a large family of children. he came to amador in and farmed for some time at the head of the rapids, when he sold his farm and moved to sunrise. in he removed to kettle river station. in - - - he served as commissioner for pine county. william holmes came to amador and settled on a farm at the head of the rapids in . the farm is now held by john dabney. mr. holmes married a sister of mrs. thornton bishop. she was educated at pokegama mission. they raised a large family of children. in mr. holmes removed to sunrise and thence to trade river, wisconsin, in , where he sickened. his brother-in-law, bishop, came to his relief, removed him to his own home and cared for him till he died, may, . james m. martin was one of the first settlers in amador. he came originally from missouri, where he was married. he died july , ; mrs. martin dying some years prior. their sons are james m., harvey, charles, isaac, and theodore. their daughters are mrs. cowan, mrs. wilkes, mrs. nordine and mrs. lanon. branch. the town of branch, occupying township , range , was set off from sunrise, and organized in . the first supervisors were william winston, peter delamater and frank knight. a post office was established in ; geo. w. flanders, postmaster. the surface is mostly undulating, and the soil a sandy loam. there are oak openings, and along the course of the north branch of the sunrise river, which flows through the town from west to east, there are many excellent wild meadows. the north part originally contained pine forests; about , , feet have been cut away. branch contains some pretty and well cultivated farms. the st. paul & duluth railroad traverses the town from south to north. north branch station. the only village in the town of branch was platted in january, , the proprietors being the western land association, l. mendenhall, agent. the plat includes the north half of the northwest quarter of section , and the northeast quarter of section , township , range . the first settler was g. m. flanders, who opened a store here in , which was burned in . henry l. ingalls erected a good hotel and other buildings. in gurley & bros. established a store; b. f. wilkes built a hotel; winston, long & co. established a store. in j. f. f. swanson built a flouring mill, which was burned in . the loss was about $ , , with but little insurance. the village now contains two elevators, three hotels, six stores and the usual proportion of dwellings. there are two churches, the episcopalian building, erected in ; and the congregational, in . there is also a good school house. the village was incorporated in . in december, , the store of singleton & bonnafon was burned; loss estimated at $ , , with but little insurance. henry l. ingalls was born in abingdon, connecticut, in . in he was married to lavina l. child, of woodstock, connecticut, and with his wife and younger brother emigrated to illinois, settling at chandler, cass county. there he remained seventeen years, when, his impaired health necessitating a change, with his son henry he went to california. in he returned and settled on sunrise prairie, then an unbroken wilderness. for seventeen years he lived on his farm and kept a popular country hotel. in he removed to north branch and built a large frame residence, where he lived until his death, which occurred sept. , . mr. ingalls left three sons, ephraim, henry and van rensselaer. mrs. lavina l. ingalls, whose maiden name was childs, was born in connecticut in ; was married as above stated in , from which time she cheerfully and uncomplainingly shared the fortunes of her husband in the west, undergoing the usual toils and privations of the pioneer. while at sunrise, during part of the time she had no neighbors nearer than taylor's falls. the first post office in chisago county north of taylor's falls was at her house, and was known as muscotink. she and her husband, during the later years of their lives, were spiritualists, and derived great comfort from their peculiar phase of belief. mrs. ingalls was a talented and kind hearted woman, charitable in act and beloved by her associates. she died dec. , . chisago lake. the town of chisago lake includes the four western tiers of sections of township , range , and township , range . a permanent characteristic of this town is its unrivaled lake scenery, rendering it not only attractive for residences but a favorite resort of visitors. its principal lake has already been described. the first settler was john s. van rensselaer, who located on an island opposite the present site of centre city in the spring of , and raised a crop of corn and vegetables. he built him a cabin and lived there three years. eric norberg, a prominent swede, came to the lake from bishop's hill, illinois, in april, , and being pleased with the locality, came back with a colony of swedes, including peter berg, andrew swenson, peter anderson, peter shaline, daniel rattick, and others. they came by steamboat, landed at taylor's falls june , , cut a road to chisago lake and took undisputed possession of its shores, finding no trace of human occupancy save some deserted indian tepees and the claim cabin of mr. van rensselaer on the island. mr. berg settled on the west part of lot , section , and southwest quarter of southwest quarter of section , township , range . peter anderson on the east part of lot , and northwest quarter of northeast quarter of section , township , range . andrew swenson on lot , section , township , range . mr. norberg had come first to the country at the invitation of miles tornell, who was murdered in , near st. croix falls, by some indian assassins, hired to commit the deed by one miller, a whisky seller. mr. norberg originally intended to make his home at chisago lake, but died at bishop's hill, illinois, while on a visit in . the colony in raised the first rye, barley and flax in the county. they also raised potatoes, green corn and vegetables, cut out roads, cleared timber, and made other improvements. peter berg raised flax and made linen thread in , the first made in minnesota. settlers came in rapidly. among the arrivals in and soon after were the petersons, strands, johnsons, frank mobeck, dahliam, porter, and others. a post office was established in ; a. nelson, postmaster. the town was organized in . the first supervisors were: ephraim c. ingalls, chairman; frank mobeck and daniel lindstrom. the first church organization in the county was that of the swedish evangelical lutheran, in . here was built the first church edifice in , a frame structure subsequently enlarged, but in superseded by a fine brick building, costing $ , . its dimensions are × feet, ground plan, and the spire is feet in height. a fine organ was purchased at a cost of $ , . this church building is an ornament to the town and the state, and would be creditable even to our great cities. the first pastor was rev. p. a. cedarstam. his successors are revs. c. a. hedengrand and john j. frodeen, the present incumbent. the communicants number about , . in the st. paul & duluth railroad extended a branch road from wyoming to taylor's falls. this passes through the town of chisago lake, from west to east, crossing three arms of the lake. to secure this road the town gave $ , in twenty year bonds. it obtains in exchange an outlet for the products of its farms and forests. the bridge across chisago lake was built in , at a cost of $ , . it has since been made an embankment bridge at an additional cost of $ , . of this the state furnished $ , and the county $ . centre city, the county seat of chisago county, was platted may, , on lot , section , township , range ; andrew swenson, proprietor; alex. cairns, surveyor. it is located on a peninsula midway on the east shore of chisago lake. few villages are more beautifully situated. it contains two hotels, three stores, a saw and feed mill, two church buildings, a swedish lutheran and swedish methodist, a school house and many pleasant residences. the court house was built in , at a cost of $ , , on a promontory commanding a fine view of the lake. the depot of the branch of the st. paul & duluth railroad is located half a mile south of the village. summer excursionists assemble here in goodly numbers, and the location bids fair to become very attractive as a summer resort. during the indian outbreak in , and the period of uncertainty as to the probable attitude of the chippewa indians, the people of chisago lake built breastworks for protection, on the isthmus connecting centre city with the mainland, and planted cannon upon them for defense. the remains of these old fortifications may still be seen. andrew swenson.--mr. swenson, the founder of centre city, came to the shores of the lake in , and made his home on the present site of the city. he was born in sweden in ; came to america in , and remained a short time in new orleans before coming to minnesota. he was a farmer and a member of the methodist church. he was married to catharine peterson in . he died in july, , leaving two sons and two daughters. john s. van rensselaer came to chisago lake in the spring of , and settled on an island, where he lived three years in hermit-like seclusion, raising corn and vegetables. his cabin, always neat and tasteful, was furnished with a choice library. in he removed to sunrise lake, where he lived fifteen years, engaged in farming. he removed thence to sunrise city. mr. van rensselaer was the founder of the first cheese factories in the county, at sunrise city and centre city. he is an honorable and upright man, whose high aim is to exemplify the golden rule in his life and deportment. axel dahliam settled on the west shore of east chisago lake in . mr. dahliam had been an officer in the swedish army. he was a cultivated gentleman. he died in . nels nord was born in lindhopsing, sweden, in . in his eighteenth year he enlisted in the swedish army and served twelve years. he came to america in and located on chisago lake, in the northeast quarter of section , township , range . he was married in sweden to lisa anderson. they have one son, john p., who has been for seven years the popular and efficient auditor of chisago county. he was married in to hildah, daughter of rev. c. a. hedengrand. they have one daughter. john a. hallberg was born at smolland, sweden, in . he came to america in and to centre city in . in he purchased a saw and feed mill of shogren brothers. in he built a hotel. he has held the office of justice of the peace many years and has served four years as county commissioner. he was married to matilda e. carlson in . chas. a. bush is of german descent. his father, wm. h. bush, lived in wyoming. his great grandfather came to this country in and fought on the side of the colonies. chas. a. came to minnesota in from pennsylvania. he has served as treasurer of chisago county four years. lars johan stark was born in sweden in ; came to america in , and settled at chisago lake in . he was married in , and again in . he has eleven children living. in sweden he served as clerk ten years. in his american home he has followed farming chiefly. he has served as justice of the peace and county commissioner, and has filled some town offices. he was engrossing clerk of the house of representatives in . he was a member of the house in the sessions of and . in he moved to the town of fish lake, and in to harris. frank mobeck was born in sweden in . he came to america in , and in to chisago lake, where he settled on lot , section , township , range . his home is on a beautiful elevation, on a point of land projecting into the lake. mr. mobeck served in the swedish army seventeen years. he has raised a large family of children, all of whom are good citizens. robert currie was born in ayrshire, scotland. after reaching manhood he was employed many years as superintendent of a fancy manufacturing company. he was married in scotland. in , after the death of his wife, he came to america, and in selected a place for a home on the north shore of west chisago lake, where he lived till his death by drowning in . the site of his home was well chosen. it commanded a beautiful view of the lake, and in the summer months was luxuriantly adorned with flowers. mr. currie was a man of fine intellect, well cultivated, and an ardent admirer of his countryman burns, from whom, and from shakespeare and other masters of english literature he could quote for hours. mr. currie's occupation was farming, but he filled several offices acceptably. he was superintendent of schools, judge of probate and clerk of district court. though somewhat eccentric, he was a social, kind hearted man. andrew n. holm, formerly andrew nelson, his name having been changed by legislative enactment in , was born in sweden in . he learned the trade of carpenter, came to america in and located in centre city in , of which city he was first postmaster. he served as a soldier during the civil war and at its close removed his family to taylor's falls, which is still his home. lindstrom village, located on the line of the taylor's falls branch of the st. paul & duluth railroad, on lot , section , town , range , was platted in by g. w. sewall, surveyor. the proprietors are james and elisabeth smith. it is situated on high ground and almost surrounded by the waters of lake chisago. it would be difficult to find a lovelier site. maurice tombler built the first store and elevator here, in . there are now three stores, one hotel, one railroad station and several shops and dwellings. a post office was established at lindstrom in ; charles h. bush, postmaster. daniel lindstrom was born in , in helsingland, sweden. he had no early advantages for obtaining an education, and spent most of his youth herding goats amongst the mountains in the north part of sweden. in he came to america and located on chisago lake, choosing a beautiful location, which has since been laid out as a village, and bids fair to become a place of popular resort. mr. lindstrom was married first in sweden, and now lives with his second wife, the first having died in . he has a family of three children. he has filled official positions in his town acceptably. magnus s. shaleen was born in sweden in ; came to america in , and made a homestead near lindstrom in section , town , range , where he died in . mrs. shaleen died in . john, the oldest son, resides on the family homestead. he has served as sheriff of chisago county six years, and state senator eight years. peter, the second son, has served as postmaster of centre city fourteen years, and clerk of the district court five years. sarah, the eldest daughter, married john swenson. they have three sons, john h., henry a. and oscar, industrious, reliable young men, all in the employ of the st. paul & duluth railroad company. mary married andrew wallmark at chisago lake, in . one daughter is unmarried. chisago city. the village of chisago city is located on a hardwood ridge, between chisago and green lakes, in sections and , township , range . it was platted by isaac bernheimer & co., of philadelphia, on lot , section , township , range , in . they built a hotel, several dwellings, and a saw and grist mill on the banks of chisago lake, at an expense of about $ , . these mills were burned in . a stave factory was built on the site of the burned mills, which was operated successfully for many years under the management of george nathan, otto wallmark, w. d. webb and others. this stave mill gave a new impetus to the prosperity of the village, under the influence of which the county seat was transferred to it. its subsequent growth, however, did not justify expectations. it was for many years without even a post office. in the county seat was removed to centre city. the lutherans have here one of the finest church buildings in the county. the branch railroad depot is located one mile north, and quite a village has grown up around it. otto wallmark was born dec. , , in the province of halland, sweden. in his minority he was nine years clerk in a store. he received a common school education. in he came to america and directly to chisago city, where he lived many years, making a homestead, which has since been his permanent home. he served eighteen years as chisago county auditor. he served several years as postmaster at chisago city, and in was elected state senator for four years. his first wife was mary helene, his second wife, eva palmgreen. they have one son and one daughter. andrew wallmark, brother of otto, was born in sweden in ; received a liberal education, and came to chisago lake from sweden in . he has filled several town offices; has been register of deeds for chisago county nineteen years; was married to mary shaleen in . they have two sons and three daughters. fish lake. the town of fish lake includes township , range . it was originally well timbered, chiefly with hardwood, but , , feet of pine timber has been cut from it and mostly manufactured in the town. there are some fine lakes in the town, of which the largest and finest are horseshoe and cedar. the soil is black clay loam with subsoil of clay. the town was cut off from the town of sunrise and organized in . the first supervisors were chas. f. stark, benjamin franklin and john a. hokanson. a post office was established in ; benjamin franklin, postmaster. the first settlers were peter olaf and peter bergland, in section . the first school was taught by miss mattison. the first marriage was that of john hokanson and matilda samuelson. the first death was that of john erickson. the population is mostly from sweden. there is a good swedish lutheran church built near the centre of the town. there are also a swedish methodist and a swedish baptist society. the people are a well-to-do, independent class. fish lake has a saw mill with a capacity of about , , feet. in hosburg, the watchman of this mill, was killed by priestly, an englishman. hosburg, in accordance with the rules, had ordered him not to smoke on the premises. the englishman was arrested, tried for murder and acquitted. peter berg was born in sweden in ; came to america in , and settled at chisago lake in . some time subsequently he settled on the north shore of fish lake. in , at the age of eighty-five years, he is still a vigorous, active man. mr. berg was married in sweden. he has one daughter, katharine, who married sam hamilton, of taylor's falls. mr. hamilton died in . she married as her second husband swain g. yongren. benjamin franklin, though he bears the name of america's most illustrious philosopher, is a native of sweden, whence he came with a swedish colony in , settled at taylor's falls, and subsequently removed to the northern shore of fish lake. by way of explaining how he came by his american name we add that soon after his arrival he came to the writer somewhat puzzled as to how he should write his swedish name in english. he gave it as "ben franz norel," but pronounced it in such a way that it sounded rather like benjamin franklin. we suggested that name as a happy solution of the difficulty, telling him something about the illustrious man who had made it honorable. he adopted it at once, and has never disgraced it. he is still a worthy, industrious and honorable citizen of fish lake. franconia includes the two eastern tiers of sections of township , range , and fractional township , range , including about fifteen whole sections, and four fractional. the soil is good, and originally supported a growth of hardwood. the surface is undulating. it is well watered by lawrence and several other small creeks tributary to the st. croix, and has several small but clear lakes. ansel smith was the first settler of the town and village, which he named after franconia in the white mountains. he came here in , and located a claim on the present site of the village, on the st. croix river, section , township , range . he did much for the prosperity of the village and town. he raised the first crops and was the first postmaster ( ). the town was organized in . the first supervisors were ansel smith, leonard p. day and a. j. adams. the town is now well settled and has many excellent farms. the branch st. paul & duluth railroad has a depot three-fourths of a mile from the village of franconia. a german methodist church is located near the centre of the town. franconia village was platted in , by ansel smith. it was incorporated in . paul munch, in , erected a first class, three storied flouring mill on lawrence creek. a saw mill, erected in by the clark brothers and ansel smith, has passed through many changes of ownership. it is now the property of matthews & jourdain. henry f. and leonard p. day built the first good dwelling in the village, on the banks of the st. croix, just above the steamboat landing. margaret smith taught the first school. the first death in the village was that of neil monroe. ansel smith came from vermont to st. croix falls in and engaged in teaching. in he helped erect the chisago house in taylor's falls. in he made a claim on the st. croix river, in section , township , range , and there platted the village of franconia, clearing away the worst of the timber with his own hands. he was an energetic, active business man, and took an interest not only in the affairs of his town and neighborhood, but in the country at large. he represented his district in the fifth, sixth and seventh legislatures. he was appointed register of the united states land office at duluth in and served till . mr. smith died at his residence in duluth in , leaving a wife and three promising sons, two of them practicing attorneys in duluth; one cashier of a bank in duluth. henry f. and leonard p. day.--the day brothers came from st. lawrence, new york, to the st. croix valley in , and settled in franconia in . henry married margaret smith, daughter of david smith. during the rebellion he served in company c, seventh minnesota volunteers. he moved to florida in . leonard p. was married to mary mitchell in . he died in , leaving a widow, two sons and two daughters. his widow (in ) is the wife of henry wills, of osceola. henry wills was born in , in illinois, and married his first wife in missouri in , who died in , leaving nine children. mr. wills was one of the first farmers in franconia, and has been active in promoting improvements in his town and county. he moved to osceola in . the clark brothers came from maine and located in franconia in , where they built the first mill in the village. subsequently they became citizens of taylor's falls, engaging in the mercantile, livery, saw and stave mill business. james, the oldest, married carrie jellison in , and moved to windom, minnesota. rufus, the next in age, married kate strand in , and died may, , leaving a widow, three sons and one daughter. charles, the youngest, was married to martha j. gray in , and removed to fergus falls. david smith was born in scotland. he came to franconia in , where he has now one of the best farms in chisago county. his youngest son, james, lives on the old homestead with him. his second son, john, has made his home in rush city. andrew, his oldest, served during the rebellion in company c, seventh minnesota. his oldest daughter, margaret, is the wife of h. f. day. his daughter nancy is the wife of n. h. hickerson and resides in california,. barbary, the third daughter, is the wife of john grove of burnett county. jonas lindall was for many years an enterprising and prosperous business man in franconia. he opened up an extensive wood trade with st. paul, in which c. j. vitalis is his successor. mr. lindall represented his county in the senate of the fifteenth and sixteenth state legislatures. he was accidentally drowned from a barge of wood at hastings in may, . his widow is married to chas. j. vitalis. wm. peaslee came from maine to the st. croix valley and settled in franconia in , and followed mercantile pursuits at that place and at taylor's falls. he died at the latter place in . mr. peaslee was married at palmyra, maine, to sophia e. harriman, who, with clarence, an only son, survives him. his widow resides in taylor's falls and superintends a millinery and fancy store. clarence succeeds his father in the grocery and dry goods business at taylor's falls. he married rosa, a daughter of patrick fox. charles vitalis was born in smolland, sweden, in ; came to america in and settled in franconia village. he was for five years employed as clerk. in he embarked in the mercantile and wood business. in one year he shipped , cords of wood, and has averaged for the last years , cords, making a total of , cords. he was married to josephine nelson, widow of jonas lindall, in . they have three children. elof, john, elias and hans are brothers of charles vitalis, residing in the town of franconia. august j. anderson was born near wexico, sweden, in ; came to america with his parents in , and to franconia. at thirteen years of age he commenced clerking for c. vitalis, with whom he continued until , when he associated himself with him in the mercantile business. he visited europe in . frank n. peterson.--mr. peterson came to america in , and in settled in the valley of the st. croix. he attended school at carver, minnesota, one year, when he became a traveling salesman for leopold & co., of chicago, and in settled in franconia. he organized the lumbering firm of borens brothers & peterson, which continued until , when a new organization was formed, called the franconia lumber company, consisting of p. jordan, sam mathews, of stillwater, and the subject of our sketch. [illustration: frank n. peterson.] mr. peterson has been the president of franconia since its incorporation. in he married miss ingur johnson, daughter of eric johnson, a pioneer of st. peter, minnesota, and is the father of two children, axel, a promising son, who died in february, , at fourteen years of age, and maria, now a student in the ladies' seminary at faribault, who is developing marked ability as a pencil artist. mr. peterson owns one of the finest houses in the valley, romantically situated, which is supplied with pure spring water. it is a pride to the village and attracts general attention. he is also the inventor and patentee of the lindholm & peterson adding machine. harris. the town of harris contains twenty-four sections of township , range , the four western tiers of sections. the soil is a sandy loam with clay subsoil. the town is well watered and drained by goose creek, which entering the town from the northwest, and bending at first southward, then eastward, leaves the town near its southeastern line in section . the timber consisted originally of oak openings and pine; , , feet of the latter have been removed from the southeastern portion. luxuriant wild meadows are found along goose creek. the first improvement was a farm, made by w. h. c. folsom in sections and in . the first permanent settler was henry h. sevy, who located on this farm in . the town of harris was organized in . harris village. a charter organizing harris village was granted by the district court, under the general law, in . a question arose as to the legality of the act. a subsequent legislature, by legislative act, confirmed all similarly organized villages in the state. the supreme court decided the organization of such villages illegal and the legislative act sanctioning it unconstitutional. it was subsequently organized legally. the village was surveyed by a. d. miller and platted in may, , in the south half of section , township , range , philip s. harris and n. d. miller, proprietors. it derived its name from philip s. harris, a prominent officer of the st. paul & duluth railroad. fred wolf was the first settler, in , and first merchant and first railroad agent, in . he acted as postmaster subsequently and filled other offices of trust. his interests are intimately blended with those of the village. isaac savage was the second settler and merchant. he was the first postmaster, in . the first school was taught by mary gwinn, in . the first marriage was that of m. p. smith and charlotte swenson. the first child born was brague, son of w. d. sayers. the first death was that of isaac morrill. a good school house was built in . the village is rapidly growing. it has an extensive trade in hay, wood, ties and piles. wheat shipments are large. it has four stores, two hotels, three elevators, three hay presses, two wagon and smith shops, one agricultural warehouse, one skating rink, one livery stable, two saloons, one meat shop and a railroad depot. lent. this town includes the whole of township , range . it is well watered and drained by sunrise river, but has no lakes. the soil is a sandy loam; the timber chiefly oak openings. the early settlers were harvey lent, from whom the town derived its name, william robinson, james buchanan, who raised the first crops in , joshua dawson, jesse moore and others. the town was organized in . the first supervisors were dawson, moore and robinson. the first post office was established in , at stacy, a railroad station on the st. paul & duluth railroad, which traverses this town from south to north. frank dawson was the first postmaster. nessell. nessell includes township , range . the surface was originally covered with a growth of hardwood, with some pine. of the latter, about , , feet has been cut. the soil is adapted to wheat culture. it is well watered. rush lake occupies a nearly central position, and is a beautiful sheet of water with about fourteen miles of meandering shore line, crystal clear, and deep, well stocked with fish, and bordered with groves of maple, oak and linden. the town was set off from rush lake and organized in . the first supervisors were wm. h. mccray, john h. breit and matts colleen. the town is settled by a class of industrious, upright people. there are three churches, with prosperous societies, the swedish baptist, the swedish lutheran and german lutheran. martin linnell was the first child born. the first marriage was that of wm. vanetta and anna johnson, in . alice draper taught the first school. rev. cedarstam preached the first sermon. robert nessell was the oldest settler. the town was named for him. he was born in germany in ; came to america in , and to minnesota in . he was married at sunrise to kate torbert, of shafer, in , and the same year located his present home. other early settlers are john h. breit, john lindsey, p. kelley, and the jarchow brothers. stephen b. clark made nessell his home in . mr. clark was born in vermont in ; came to marine in . he served three years during the rebellion in the second wisconsin cavalry. he removed to rush city in . rush seba. rush seba comprises township , range , and fractional part of township , range , consisting of about ten sections, irregularly bounded by the st. croix river. it is timbered with hardwood, has good soil, chiefly a black clay loam, with clay subsoil, and is well watered by rush river and rock creek and tributaries. wild meadows and marshes are intermingled with the timber. the town was organized in , with george b. folsom, robert newell and timothy ward as supervisors. a post office was established in , in section , george b. folsom, postmaster. george b. folsom was the first settler, raising the first crops in the town in . the st. paul & duluth railroad traverses the town from south to north. it was built in , and a branch road to grantsburg, wisconsin, was built in . josephine blanding taught the first school, in . the first death was that of james ward, who died from accidental poisoning. rush city. in , at the completion of the st. paul & duluth railroad, a depot was built and a station established at the crossing of rush river, around which rapidly grew up the village of rush city. it was surveyed and platted by benjamin w. brunson, surveyor, in january, , in the northeast quarter of section , township , range . the western land association, l. mendenhall, agent, was proprietor. thomas flynn was the first settler, he having in pre-empted the land which afterward became the site of the village. among the improvements in was a steam saw mill, built by taylor & co. this mill was burned in , at a loss of $ , . rush city was incorporated in . frank h. pratt was president of the first village council. rush city has now a commodious town hall, an exchange bank, one elevator, one foundry, a good school house, built at a cost of $ , ; a good graded school, under the supervision of prof. v. d. eddy; a lodge of ancient order united workmen (no. ), a board of trade, a woman's christian temperance union association, a sons of temperance lodge, a post of the grand army of the republic (ellsworth post, no. ), and a masonic organization (jasper lodge). the following denominations have churches and societies: catholic, episcopalian, german lutheran, swedish lutheran, and swedish evangelical. the catholics are building a church at a cost of $ , . thomas flynn was born in county mayo, ireland, . he came to america in , and lived in canada east until ; when he located in minnesota, pre-empting the northeast quarter of section , township , range . his farm became the site of the village of rush city in , and in he built the first frame house in its limits. mr. flynn has been married three times, losing each of his wives by death. he has two sons living, james h. and frank a. patrick h. flynn was born in county mayo, ireland, in ; came to america in ; lived in canada east until , and coming to minnesota pre-empted the northwest quarter of section . he was married in to margaret kelly, of illinois. they have two sons and two daughters living. mr. flynn, in , erected the globe hotel in rush city, where he now resides. rufus crocker was the second settler in rush seba. he was the first justice of the peace and held other offices. mr. crocker was married to miss mercy hewson, of isanti county. he is now a citizen of rock creek. frank h. pratt was born in skowhegan, maine, in . his father, henry p. pratt, a veteran editor, who had served twenty years on the kennebec _journal_, and later was connected with the somerset _journal_ and skowhegan _people's press_, came to st. paul in with his family, and was associated with john p. owens as assistant editor of the st. paul _minnesotian_. on sunday, may , , mr. pratt went on board the steamer royal arch, which had landed at the st. paul levee that morning with a cargo of passengers, sick, dying and dead of cholera. thirteen had already died on the boat. mr. pratt, sr., went on board to alleviate the sufferings of the sick and dying, and in consequence, within two days, himself sickened and died. the writer and his family were passengers on the royal arch, and witnesses to these scenes of suffering and death and mr. pratt's heroic self-devotion. after his father's death frank continued in the office of the _minnesotian_ as printer. he worked also in the offices of the st. paul and st. peter _tribune_ and the prescott _transcript_. in - he served as local editor and foreman in the _transcript_ office. in he removed to taylor's falls, and established the taylor's falls _reporter_, the first newspaper published in chisago county. in he enlisted in company c. of the seventh minnesota volunteer infantry; was commissioned second lieutenant, and served until he resigned his office in the latter part of , having been promoted to the captaincy of company c. after the war he located in sunrise city, and engaged in mercantile pursuits. in he removed to rush city, continued in mercantile business, and took an active part in all enterprises looking to the welfare of the city. he built a store, elevator and a fine residence, which was burned in . mr. pratt represented his district in the sixteenth legislature. he was married to helen a. bossout, at st. paul, in . they have one son, fred, and three daughters. mr. pratt moved to st. paul in , where he died, march , . fred, his son, succeeds him in business in rush city. he is married to a daughter of jonathan chase, of east minneapolis. voloro d. eddy was born in java, wyoming county, new york, sept. , ; received a common school education supplemented by two years' attendance at griffith institute, springfield, new york; gave up his school to enlist in his country's service, as a member of the "ellsworth avengers" (the forty-fourth new york volunteers). the regiment was mustered into service at albany, new york, aug. , . he served in this regiment until june , , when he was taken prisoner at old church, virginia. he endured the horrors of prison life until feb. , , and was discharged from service may , . in he came to taylor's falls and engaged in teaching, which he has made his profession, having taught continuously since . he has been county superintendent of schools for twelve years, during which time he has resided at rush city. mr. eddy was married to frances cowley, at taylor's falls, sept. , . mrs. eddy died june, . he was married to anna r. olmstead, july , , at arcadia, new york. ferdinand sweedorff christianson was born in copenhagen, denmark, april , ; came to the united states in , to minnesota in , and to chisago county in . he was married to selma a. willard, at red wing, minnesota, dec. , . he represented chisago county in the legislature of . he was assistant secretary of state from to . in he established the rush city bank. in he was appointed member of the state board of equalization, and in was one of the committee for selecting a location for the third hospital for the insane. shafer comprises all of the territory of township , range , excepting the plat of taylor's falls, and fractional sections in the northeast corner of the township. it was at first heavily timbered with hardwood, interspersed with marshes and meadows. the soil is good. lawrence and dry creeks drain the greater part of the township. it is now well settled, and has many fine farms. a swedish colony settled here in , consisting of peter wyckland, andros anderson, eric byland, tuver walmarson, and others. the town organized first as taylor's falls, but the name was changed to shafer in . john g. peterson, john nelson and john carlson were the first supervisors. the first school was taught by ella wyckoff, in the marshall district, in . the first marriage was that of peter abear to kittie wickland. the branch st. paul & duluth railroad passes through the southern part of this township. the township contributed to this road $ , in bonds. a railroad station in the southwest quarter of section bears the name of shafer, derived, together with the name of the township, from jacob shafer, who, as early as , cut hay in sections and . he seems to have been in no sense worthy of the honor conferred upon him, as he was but a transient inhabitant, and disappeared in . no one knows of his subsequent career. the honor ought to have been given to some of the hardy swedes, who were the first real pioneers, and the first to make substantial improvements. peter wickland came from sweden in , and settled in the northeast quarter of section . he moved to anoka in , and was drowned in rum river in . his son peter is a prominent merchant in anoka. tuver walmarson was born in sweden in . he was a member of the swedish colony of , settled in the northwest quarter of section . mr. and mrs. walmarson reared a fine family of children. nelson tuver walmarson, the eldest son, inherits the industry and frugality of both parents. by hard work and close attention to business the family has prospered abundantly. andros anderson came also from sweden in and settled in the east half of the northeast quarter of section . mr. anderson moved to taylor's falls in and died there in . he left but one child, the wife of daniel fredine, of shafer. mr. anderson was a born humorist and fond of practical jokes. on one occasion his ready wit was exercised at the expense of a man to whom he had mortgaged his farm. deeming the house in which he lived his own, in the absence of the mortgagee he removed it to taylor's falls. the mortgagee, e. w. holman, told him that he had stolen the house and must replace it. anderson told holman to take the house and replace it himself, but if he took his (anderson's) family along with it he would have him sent to the penitentiary. mr. holman did not see his way clear and the house was not disturbed. eric byland, another of the swedish colony, settled in the west half of the southeast quarter of section . in he sold out and moved further west. the farm he left is now owned by john nelson and is one of the finest farms in chisago county. jacob peterson was born in and came with his parents to chisago county in . they located on a beautiful spot in franconia, on the shore of a small lake, where they made a farm and where jacob passed his boyhood and youth. in he commenced business at shafer station as a merchant and dealer in wood. he was the first postmaster at shafer. he was married in to mary heline. ambrose c. seavey was born in machias, maine, in ; was married to elizabeth ayers, in crawford, maine, in , and came to st. croix falls in . in he removed to taylor's falls, and opened the first blacksmith shop. he was absent two years in colorado, and when he returned settled on a farm in the town of shafer. he has a family of four sons and six daughters. sunrise. the town of sunrise includes the two eastern tiers of sections of township , range , one whole and eight fractional sections of township , range , and all of township , range , except the two eastern tiers of sections. it is well watered by the st. croix and sunrise rivers and their tributaries. the latter river rises in washington county, having for its principal source forest lake, and flows through the town in a northerly direction into the st. croix. it has three considerable tributaries from the west known as north, middle and south branches. st. croix river has, as tributary, goose creek, which flows through the northern part of the town. the soil varies from a rich sandy loam to a sandy soil. the town contains many fine farms. the old government road from point douglas to superior passes through the town. sunrise was incorporated as a town oct. , ; isaac a. parmenter, david lovejoy and a. c. mattison, supervisors. a post office was established in ; george s. frost, postmaster. the first marriage was that of robert nessell and kate torbert, by j. d. wilcox, esq. the first child born was joshua taylor gallaspie. the first death was of an unknown man who died from the kick of a horse. wm. holmes, the first settler, located on sunrise prairie in , and raised crops on fifteen acres that year. john a. brown and patten w. davis cultivated thirty-five acres the same year on sunrise prairie. messrs. brown, davis and ingalls made a wagon road from sunrise to st. paul in . john a. brown, in the same year, built a hotel and opened a store. the hotel was built of logs, the store was a frame, the first erected in sunrise. in he built a saw mill. his hotel was burned in . these buildings were the nucleus of sunrise village. sunrise village was platted july, , in the north half of the northeast quarter of section , and the west half of the southwest quarter and the northeast quarter of the southeast quarter of section , and the southeast quarter of the southwest quarter of section , all of township , range . the proprietors were john a. brown, j. s. caldwell and c. l. willis; surveyor, w. f. duffy. it contains a first class roller flour mill, a saw mill, both owned by caspar spivac, two stores, a school house and several shops and dwellings. in a colony from western new york settled in and around sunrise village. the wilcoxes, wilkes, collins, gwynne, smith, and others were of this colony. the village has suffered greatly from fires. the buildings lost at various times were one flouring mill, valued at $ , , four hotels and several private dwellings. the flouring mill was the property of mrs. j. g. mold. two lives were lost at the burning of the mill. in the fall of , immediately after the sioux outbreak, and while considerable apprehension was felt as to the attitude of the chippewas toward the white settlers, a company of volunteers under capt. anderson was stationed at sunrise. this company built temporary quarters of logs, and were very comfortably fixed during the winter. they had presumably a very good time, but repelled no savage foes. kost village is located in the west half of section , township , range . it has a first class roller flouring mill, owned by ferdinand a. kost, erected in at a cost of $ , , and a saw mill, also owned by f. a. kost, erected the same year. it has two stores, a number of shops and dwellings and a post office, established in , of which f. a. kost is postmaster. chippewa was platted march, , by benj. dinsmore, surveyor, in the northwest quarter of section , and the west half of the northeast quarter of section , township , range . the proprietors were james starkey, charles s. patteys, michael e. ames, isaac van etten, and moses sherburne. it makes a fair farm. drontheim was platted in , in the southeast quarter of the northeast quarter and the northeast quarter of the southeast quarter of section , township , range ; c. c. p. myer, proprietor. it is still a brush and swamp plat. nashua was platted july, , h. h. newbury, surveyor, on lots and of section , and lot in section , township , range . proprietors, n. f. taylor, w. h. c. folsom, l. k. stannard and n. c. d. taylor. it has made two fair farms. washington was platted august, , w. f. duffy, surveyor, in the south half of section , township , range . proprietors, james y. caldwell and l. c. kinney. on this site the starkey indian battle was fought. john a. brown.--mr. brown, a native of pennsylvania, came to sunrise in , and was for awhile quite prominent, building a store, hotel and other buildings. in he was married to emeline hartwell. he prospered in business, but owing to some domestic difficulties, in left suddenly for parts unknown. his property was sacrificed to meet obligations, and his wife left helpless. mrs. brown died in minneapolis in . patten w. davis was a native of virginia. he came to stillwater in , and soon after removed to osceola mills, where he lived two years. in he removed to sunrise, and was associated in business for two years with john a. brown. he has held the positions of postmaster, town clerk, treasurer, county commissioner, supervisor, and assessor. in he married a virginia lady, and returned to his native state. james f. harvey was born in , in penobscot county, maine. he came west in and settled at marine mills. in he removed to sunrise and located in the northeast quarter of section , township , range , at what was known as goose creek crossing. his first wife, whom he had married in maine, died shortly after their arrival at sunrise, leaving one daughter, maria, wife of leonard clark, of stillwater. mr. harvey was married in to widow patience knight, the mother of mrs. floyd s. bates, albert s. and frank e., of taylor's falls, and ella medora harvey, wife of j. a. shores, of minneapolis. mr. harvey died at his home in . mrs. harvey died at taylor's falls in . floyd s. bates, originally from maine, has been since a prominent lumberman on the st. croix, living first at sunrise, and in later years at taylor's falls. he owns an extensive farm in cass county, dakota. of his three brothers, e. hines resides in taylor's falls, and j. herrick and charles in dakota territory. isaac h. warner was born in new york in , was married in and came to sunrise in , where he followed farming and selling goods. he has served as postmaster, justice of the peace and held other positions. he has three children. his eldest, a daughter, wife of samuel mcclure, a lumberman of sunrise, died february, . mr. warner removed to dakota in . charles f. lowe was born in in concord, new hampshire, received a collegiate education and came to sunrise in . he interested himself in real estate but devoted about one-half of his time to travel, of which he was passionately fond. he made one trip around the globe, writing back interesting letters descriptive of what he had seen. he made his last annual tour in , and, while sailing in a small boat in some of the waters of florida, the boat was struck by a squall, capsized and mr. lowe was drowned. mr. lowe was a member of the minnesota constitutional convention. wells farr came from new york state to sunrise prairie in , where he has since lived in a comfortable home, a successful farmer. he has a family of four sons and two daughters. his oldest daughter is the wife of ephraim c. ingalls. his second daughter is the wife of frank dawson, of lent. mr. farr died in march, . john g. mold came to sunrise in , where he engaged in milling, hotel keeping and mercantile business. he was the proprietor of the sunrise city mills, since burned. he died in , aged fifty years, leaving a widow, two sons and two daughters. george l. blood, during his early life, was a seafaring man, spending many years upon the ocean, and visiting during this time many foreign ports, keeping a daily record of his journeyings. mr. blood had learned the trade of house joiner, but coming to sunrise in , attempted farming, at which he was not successful. in he removed to taylor's falls, where he died in . his life was an exemplary one, and his death that of a christian. his family returned to their old home in connecticut. his two sons reside in st. paul. joel g. ryder came from new york to the st. croix and settled in the town of sunrise, near the village, about the year . he was energetic and able, and was called to fill many town and county offices. he was a representative in the fifteenth state legislature. in he was married to lizzie perkins. john dean was born in --; was married to mary draper in ; came to minnesota in --; served some time as river pilot, and settled on his farm near sunrise city in . mr. dean represented his district in the house of the twenty-first and twenty-second legislatures. taylor's falls. the village of taylor's falls was platted in , a survey of lots having been made at that time by theodore s. parker, of stillwater. additions were made from time to time as the increasing population demanded. a year before the survey a frame building was erected on what was subsequently the northwest corner of river and first streets. in and some streets were opened, but with considerable difficulty, on account of the trap rock, which to be removed required blasting. bowlders that could not be removed were buried. the work of cutting a street to the upper steamboat landing was specially difficult. there were no roads to the village, and the only means of travel was by steamboat, bateaux, or birch bark canoes, until the government road was opened sometime in . a post office was established in march, , and a weekly mail was ordered from stillwater. prior to this time a semi-monthly mail had been carried between the points named. of the office established in , n. c. d. taylor was first postmaster. the office was in w. h. c. folsom's store, folsom acting as deputy postmaster. the successors of mr. taylor have been, porter e. walker, edward p. wyman, thomas holmes, oscar roos, george w. seymour, and n. m. humphrey; not a long list for thirty-five years. the location of the office was changed with each successive incumbent. the mail carrier in was the hon. warren bristol, since then four times a representative and senator from goodhue county in the state legislature, and united states judge in arizona. the mail service has passed through all the gradations from a semi-monthly to a semi-daily mail. the mail has been carried in canoes or bateaux, on foot, on horseback, on steamboat and rail car. it is now carried by rail. of the baker & taylor mill an account has been given elsewhere. the next mill, a grist mill, was built by n. c. d. taylor, w. h. c. folsom and the day brothers, in . it was several years later remodeled and changed into a carding mill, and is now the property of jonas gray. kingman brothers built a saw mill in , with a capacity of , feet per day. several parties succeeded to the ownership and control of the mill, but, after doing good service for many years, it was abandoned. clark brothers built a lumber and stave mill in . after ten years this mill was removed. the first merchant was daniel mears, who sold goods as early as . w. h. c. folsom opened a store in ; taylor & fox in . the chisago house was built by thomson & smith in , on the corner of bench and first streets. in the name was changed to dalles house. it has changed landlords many times, the last being henry kattenberg. the cascade house was built in , on the corner of walnut and bench streets, by richard arnold. it is no longer used. the falls house was built in , on bench street near walnut, by erastus guard, and converted into a hotel in , with henry kattenberg as proprietor, by whom it was conducted as a temperance house. it is now in charge of eugene fitzgerald. the first physician was lucius b. smith. susan thomson taught the first school. the first marriage was that of charles d. turney and cecilia ring, ansel smith, justice of the peace, tying the knot. wm. colby was the first white child born in the village. the first death was that of a three-year-old daughter of ansel smith, in . rev. w. t. boutwell preached the first sermon, in . in three young episcopal ministers, revs. breck, myrick and wilcoxson, alternated in holding services, but did not organize a society. rev. julius s. webber, baptist, preached occasionally in and ; rev. w. miner, congregationalist, in and became the first resident minister. in april, , rev. silas bolles, a methodist, organized a society, the first in the village. in june, , rev. a. m. torbet organized a baptist society and served as pastor four years. the society built a church in at a cost of $ , . in the swedish evangelical lutherans built a church on the corner of mulberry and government streets, at a cost of $ , . rev. c. a. cedarstam was pastor in - - , rev. ---- tornell the three succeeding years, and three other pastors have served since. in rev. john g. hall organized a presbyterian society, and built a church in , on the corner of river and chisago streets, at a cost of $ , . mr. hall served as pastor four years. the roman catholics erected a church on the corner of walnut and centre streets in , at a cost of $ , . they have as yet no settled priest or parish school. the st. croix bridge company was organized in . the incorporators were w. h. c. folsom, patrick fox, joshua l. taylor, w. s. hungerford, wm. kent, nelson mccarty, john dobney, w. f. colby, orange walker, fred w. lammers, and n. c. d. taylor. the bridge was built in ; w. s. sewall, st. paul, was the engineer. the capital stock amounted to $ , , and was divided into shares at $ each. the bridge was rebuilt in , on the same plan, and in was replaced by an iron bridge, at a cost of $ , . the bridge has a span of feet and is a light and graceful structure. it was the first bridge that spanned the st. croix and mississippi rivers. the chisago county bank was organized in , under the state banking law; capital stock, $ , ; levi w. folsom, president; s. c. gould, cashier. it was closed in . the taylor's falls copper mining company was organized dec. , ; w. h. c. folsom, president; george w. seymour, secretary; l. w. folsom, treasurer; d. a. caneday, mining agent. the operations of this company extended to sinking a shaft to a depth of one hundred and thirty feet. the kahbakong cemetery association was organized in . the first board of officers were w. h. c. folsom, president; joshua l. taylor, secretary. the cemetery is located a mile and a half from the village and contains fifteen acres of ground beautifully located. zion lodge, no. , a. f. &. a. m., was organized march , . sherman post, no. , g. a. r., was organized in july, , caspar hauser, commander. taylor's falls library association was organized oct. , , e. d. whiting, president; j. a. mcgowan, secretary. within two years the library numbered , volumes and since that time the number has been increased to , . in the village of taylor's falls was regularly incorporated with the following board of officers: trustees, patrick fox, president; w. h. c. folsom, e. d. whiting, l. w. folsom; recorder, h. h. newbury; treasurer, wm. comer. an indian dance. the last indian dance in taylor's falls was given by a party of chippewas in . they had come down the st. croix in birch canoes with furs and cranberries to exchange with samuels in st. croix village for "scootawabo," or whisky. they remained about a week, drinking and carousing in their peculiar style. one sabbath, and when, for a wonder, they were quite sober, they visited taylor's falls and gave a series of grotesque and laughable dances in the street, opposite folsom's store, after which they called for presents as tokens of friendship and appreciation, kindly and gravely shook hands and recrossed the river. "thus departed hiawatha." chapter xiii. biographical. jesse taylor, the first permanent settler of taylor's falls, came to the falls in , as narrated in the general history of the village. nothing is known of his life before coming to the falls, except that he was originally from kentucky, and lived at fort snelling, where he was employed as a stonemason. by the death of his associate, b. f. baker, he came into possession of the mill property and its belongings. this he sold to joshua l. taylor in , and removed to stillwater, where he took a contract for stone work on the prison walls. his name appears as a member of the house from stillwater in the territorial legislature for and . he was married in to abigail, daughter of widow edwards, of stillwater. he left stillwater in . joshua l. taylor was born in sanbornton, new hampshire, in . in he removed to alton, illinois, where he lived until , when he came to taylor's falls in the employ of the st. croix falls lumber company. in he purchased the property of jesse taylor. he engaged in logging until , meanwhile pre-empting portions of the site of taylor's falls. in the fall of he went to california, and was fairly successful in his mining ventures. he returned to taylor's falls in , where he has since resided. he was married in october, , at skowhegan, maine, to clarinda wyman. mrs. taylor died may , , leaving no children. mr. taylor built a fine residence in , on block , river street, taylor's falls, commanding a beautiful view of the river. mrs. gilmore, a sister of mr. taylor, and her daughter mary, lived with him many years. mrs. gilmore died in . mary gilmore was married to d. g. sampson in and now lives in ashland. mr. taylor had many opportunities of entering public life, but, with a solitary exception, declined them. at the organization of the territory of minnesota, in , he was appointed united states marshal, but declined. he was afterward appointed warden of the penitentiary at stillwater, and served two years. nathan c. d. taylor, elder brother of joshua, was born in sanbornton, new hampshire, in ; removed to alton, illinois, in and was for several years in the employ of godfrey, gilman & co., merchants of alton. mr. taylor came to st. croix falls in . he was one of the original pre-emptors of the site of taylor's falls. in he engaged with patrick fox in the mercantile business. they carried on an extensive trade in goods and logs until . the firm of taylor & fox erected a good store building on lot , block . he was a member of the house in the fifth and seventh territorial legislatures, and speaker of the fifth. in he was elected county treasurer of chisago county, and thereafter to the same office continuously for ten years. mr. taylor never married. he died at taylor's falls, march , . thomas f. morton was born in south carolina. he came to st. croix falls in . in he settled on a farm adjoining taylor's falls, known as the jerry ross claim. he pre-empted the southwest quarter of section . in he was married to mrs. margaret boyce, his second wife, mother of silas boyce, of amador. he followed farming successfully a few years, and in enlisted in his country's service, as a private in company c, seventh minnesota volunteer infantry, and along with his friends colby and guard did noble service, participating in several battles, in one of which, the battle of nashville, he was wounded by the bursting of a shell. he remained with the regiment, however, until, disabled by his wound and by sickness at the siege of spanish fort, he was compelled to return home. he never recovered his health, but in peacefully passed away. he was a good man, a brave soldier, and an exemplary christian. henry n. setzer.--mr. setzer is a descendant of a north german family. he was born in montgomery county, missouri, oct. , , and received his education at home, which he left at the age of fourteen years, and afterward at st. charles college, missouri. in mr. setzer came to the st. croix valley, where he engaged in lumbering for himself and others, and devoted some time to public affairs. from to he resided alternately at stillwater, marine, taylor's falls and chengwatana. mr. setzer represented the fourth district, including marine, rush lake, rice river and snake river precincts, in the house of the first territorial legislature, and the first district, including the counties of washington, itasca, chisago, superior and doty, in the council of the seventh and eighth territorial legislatures. he was a member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention in . in he was appointed warden of the state prison at stillwater, which position he held until , when he was appointed register of the land office at cambridge, isanti county. he held this position until april, . having devoted his leisure time to the study of law, and having been admitted to practice in the supreme court of minnesota, he concluded to devote himself entirely to practice. he established a law office in taylor's falls with l. k. stannard. he removed to superior city in , to duluth in , and returned to taylor's falls in . he has served as town and county attorney in chisago county for many years, and has an extensive practice in the higher courts. patrick fox was born in tipperary county, ireland, in ; came with his parents to america in , and to davenport, iowa, in . in he came to st. croix falls, where he lived three years, moving thence to stillwater, where he engaged in logging until , when he removed to taylor's falls and engaged in lumbering for a year, then entered into a mercantile partnership with n. c. d. taylor. the firm closed business in . mr. fox has been a public spirited citizen, contributing freely of his means for the improvement of the village, aiding in opening roads, building levees and bridges, and school houses, before such enterprises could be paid for out of tax revenues. mr. fox represented chisago county in the second legislature, . mr. fox is a good neighbor, industrious and temperate. he was married at davenport, iowa, to elisabeth riley. they have three sons and two daughters. the eldest daughter is the wife of clarence peaslee; the second daughter became the wife of winfield p. larcy, of dakota, in . w. f. colby was born in whitefield, maine, june , . in his early life he was a sailor. he came to st. croix falls in . he was married to salina de attly in , and removed to the west side of the river, where he located on the otis farm which he had previously bought. he followed lumbering and farming and kept a lodging house for travelers. he built a good house, and the first frame barn in chisago county. he sold his property, consisting of one hundred and sixty acres and improvements, for $ , . in mr. colby enlisted in company c, seventh minnesota volunteer infantry, and served until the close of the war as sergeant. mr. colby is a bluff, square, outspoken man, hearty in his manner, and somewhat sailor-like in his expressions though almost a lifetime has passed since he trod the deck of a vessel. oscar roos was born in west gothland, sweden, in . he came to america in , and located in taylor's falls, where he has since resided continuously, taking an active part in public affairs, and a deep interest in everything pertaining to the growth of the village and county. mr. roos was postmaster at taylor's falls years, register of deeds years, register of the land office years, and county treasurer years. he is engaged in exchange, loaning money, etc., and has a branch office in centre city. he was married to hannah swanstrom in . samuel thomson, a pennsylvanian by birth, came to taylor's falls in , and in company with ansel smith built the chisago house, a notable enterprise at that time, as neither the resources of the village or surrounding country had been developed in such a way as to give any assurance of success. mr. thomson removed in to polk county; and settled on a farm in osceola, where he made himself an attractive and pleasant home. his farm has long been celebrated for its trout pond. mr. thomson has given much attention and been quite successful in fish culture. the farm was sold in , and mr. thompson removed to arkansas, where he died nov. , . susan thomson, sister of samuel thomson, taught the first school in taylor's falls, in . she had just come from pennsylvania, and had traveled on horseback from stillwater, there being no carriage roads above marine. she was married to daniel mears, of osceola, in . george de attly, a native of virginia, came to st. croix falls with his family in , and removed to taylor's falls in , locating in section , and making a pre-emption. he was a carpenter. he raised a large and respected family. one son is in the black hills, dakota territory. his oldest daughter is the wife of wm. f. colby, of taylor's falls. his second daughter was the widow of jacob markley. his third daughter is the wife of alvah brown. one son, george, resides in taylor's falls. mr. de attly died in nebraska. jacob markley came from virginia to the st. croix valley in , settling first at st. croix falls, and in locating at taylor's falls, where he pre-empted the northeast quarter of the northeast quarter of section . he went to montana in , where he died a tragic death. his widow and two children reside in the black hills, dakota. john dobney was born in england in ; came to america when a child, to stillwater in , and to taylor's falls in . he followed logging for many years, and made himself a permanent home on a farm in amador, on the banks of the st. croix river, in . he was married to eveline page, in michigan, in . william dobney, younger brother of john, came to taylor's falls from michigan in , and engaged, with characteristic energy, in lumbering and selling goods until his death, which was the result of an accident, he having been thrown violently from a wagon which he was driving, in the spring of . he was married in to fanny m. gray, who with two children survives him. the oldest, a son, is married and resides in minneapolis. the daughter is the wife of dr. greely murdock, of taylor's falls. henry h. newbury came to st. croix falls in , and to taylor's falls in . mr. newbury is a practical surveyor and explorer. he served as county surveyor and commissioner many years. he was married first to sarah ayers, widow of e. r. st. clair, who died in . in he was married to fanny m. gray, widow of wm. dobney. emil munch was born in prussia in ; came to america in , and to taylor's falls in , where, until , he worked at the carpenter's trade, when he removed to chengwatana, pine county, and engaged in lumbering and dealing in pine lands. he served as register of deeds in pine county, and represented washington, chisago, pine and kanabec counties in the house of the third legislature in . he enlisted at fort snelling, minnesota, oct. , , as a private in the first minnesota battery, and was chosen captain on the following month; was wounded at shiloh, april , ; returned to his battery in september of the same year, took part in the battle of corinth, october th and th, and in the after campaign was appointed chief of artillery, in october, , and from effects of exposure on the march was forced to resign in the december following, but again entered the service to fight the sioux indians on the minnesota frontier in may, june and july, . he entered the veteran reserve corps in august, . at the close of the war, in , he settled in st. paul and acted as deputy state treasurer. in he was elected state treasurer and held the office until . mr. munch lost most of his property in a long litigation, in consequence of some unfortunate ventures in buying pine lands. subsequent to his term of office as state treasurer he removed to lakeland and engaged in the lumber business. in he removed to afton where he took charge of a flouring mill. he was married in to bertha segar. he died aug. , . alvin mason wilmarth.--mr. wilmarth came from massachusetts to the valley of the st. croix in , and to taylor's falls in . he has followed lumbering and farming. mr. wilmarth is a steady, temperate man. lucius kingsbury stannard was born in franklin county, vermont, july , . he had good educational advantages and improved them. he completed his literary course at barkersfield academic institute, vermont, afterward studied law at st. albans, and was admitted to the bar in . in he came west and located at taylor's falls, where for some years he had charge of the business of taylor & fox. in he was a member of the territorial legislature, representing in the house the counties of washington, itasca, chisago, superior, and doty. he was a member of the republican wing of the constitutional convention of . he represented chisago, pine and isanti counties in the state senate of - . he was a member of the house of the thirteenth legislature, , representing washington, chisago, pine and kanabec counties. he held the position of receiver in the united states land office at taylor's falls from to . he was the first lawyer admitted to practice in the courts of chisago county. he was associated in his law practice for several years with h. n. setzer. he has served as prosecuting attorney and probate judge. he served several years as county surveyor. he has, in later years, been engaged in the lumbering and mercantile business, in the firm of ellison & stannard. in october, , he was appointed register in the land office, which position he now holds. mr. stannard has a very pleasant home within the village limits, but some distance beyond the settled portion. he is a man of sound judgment, of grave and almost severe demeanor, outspoken and positive in his views, but withal a reliable citizen and kind neighbor. he was married in to harriet stevenson, in st. louis. they have one son, luke. james w. mullen was born in nova scotia in . he came to davenport, iowa, in . he commenced life on a steamboat at the age of fourteen years. he was employed on the steamer boreas, plying between st. louis and keokuk, and followed river life most of the time until . in he built the vincent house, st. croix. taylor's falls has been his home at different times since his marriage in . he was married to margaret riley, of davenport, iowa. their children are william, edward and elsa. david caneday was born in vermont in , and settled in taylor's falls in . mr. caneday has devoted much of his time to prospecting as a mineralogist. during the years - he edited the _st. croix monitor_, and from - the _st. croix dalles_. in he enlisted in company c., seventh minnesota infantry, and served till the close of the war. his record as a soldier was good. after the battle of tupelo he volunteered to remain with the wounded, of whom there were about sixty, in the hands of the enemy. two of these wounded were comrades and friends in company c., andrew j. colby and john s. swenson. the former died. mr. caneday remained at great personal risk, and saw the inside of several prisons before being exchanged. after his return mr. caneday engaged in mining and prospecting, except such time as he edited the _st. croix dalles_. he is now mining on kettle river, in pine county, minnesota, and in burnett county, wisconsin. he was married in to laura, daughter of judge n. m. humphrey. george b. folsom was born in st. johns, new brunswick, april , . he was married to deborah sawyer, october, , and came to taylor's falls in , where he engaged in lumbering. in he removed to rush seba, locating in section . he was the first settler in the town and raised the first crops; built the first log and the first frame house, and was prominent in advancing the educational and other interests of the town. he was appointed postmaster in , and held the office fourteen years. he held the office of county commissioner ten years. in he was appointed receiver of the land office at taylor's falls, which office he held for ten years, since which time he has resided in the village. aaron m. chase was born in machias, maine, april , . he received a home and common school education. in the fall of he came to st. anthony and engaged in lumbering. he and sumner farnham ran the first logs down the mississippi from rabbit river to fort ripley and st. anthony, in . in the spring of , in company with pat morin, he built a tow boat, clearing for that purpose a tow path on the eastern side of the river a distance of eighty miles. he carried freight for the american fur company, but the introduction of steamboats put an end to this enterprise. in the fall of he went to st. louis and remained there till august, , when he returned north, locating at the outlet of balsam lake, polk county, wisconsin, where he built a saw mill. he built a dam and mill, bringing the materials together without other team than himself and five men. after completing the mill he engaged for some years in lumbering. he located at taylor's falls in . in he supervised the building of a series of dams on streams tributary to the upper st. croix, the water collected by them to be used at low stages to float logs to the st. croix and down that stream to stillwater. these dams are operated under a charter from the state of wisconsin, and have proved a great benefit to the lumbermen. mr. chase is president of the company. he is a man of strong, clear mind, deliberate in action, positive in his opinions and pointed in his expressions, and withal a kind hearted, generous and true man. mr. chase is unmarried. peter abear was born in canada east in ; came to stillwater in , but subsequently removed to taylor's falls where, in , he was married to kitty wickland, who died in , leaving a son, franklin e., merchant at anoka. mr. abear married again. his second wife died in , leaving a daughter, mary. mr. abear married a third wife, who died in , leaving no children. mr. abear is a machinist but has given much of his attention to farming. levi w. folsom was born in tamworth, carroll county, new hampshire, sept. , . he was fitted for college at gilmanton, entered penn college at gettsyburg, pennsylvania, and graduated in . returning to new england, he studied law at cornish, maine, with caleb r. ayer, and was admitted to practice in the county of carroll, new hampshire. he came to taylor's falls in , and was admitted to practice in the supreme court of minnesota, and practiced law for a period of fifteen years, when he engaged in real estate and other business. he is a pleasant and agreeable speaker, stands high in the masonic fraternity, is an ardent and uncompromising democrat, a positive man with strong home and social feelings. he has been vice president of the taylor's falls branch of the st. paul & duluth railroad since its organization. he was married in to abbie shaw, in st. paul. eddington knowles was born in kentucky in ; came to st. croix falls in , and followed lumbering. he was married to ann carroll at taylor's falls in , and made his residence at taylor's falls. he enlisted for service during the rebellion in the third minnesota volunteers, but was discharged for disability before the close of the war. he died at hayward, wisconsin, in , leaving a widow and three children. his oldest daughter is the wife of douglas greely, of stillwater. his body was brought to the taylor's falls cemetery for interment. dr. lucius b. smith.--dr. smith was the first regular physician in taylor's falls, having located here in . he was born in berlin, erie county, ohio, in the year . he was married in , and after some years' practice of medicine in his native town he came west and located in taylor's falls, where he resided until , when he was appointed surgeon of the seventh minnesota volunteer infantry, in which regiment were many of his friends and associates. he performed well his duties in that position, but was killed on the day preceding the battle of tupelo, the division to which he belonged having been ambuscaded by forrest's troops. his remains were carried to the field of tupelo and there buried, but have since been removed to kahbakong cemetery, at taylor's falls. dr. smith was a tall man, of fine presence, with the air of an officer, for which reason, doubtless, some sharpshooter singled him out for destruction. dr. smith left a widow, one son, charles, and one daughter, mary, the wife of j. w. passmore. his widow was married to e. d. whiting. both are deceased. william comer was born in cheshire county, england, in ; was married to elisabeth davis; came to america in and located in st. louis, where he remained until , when he removed to pike county, illinois. in he removed to st. croix falls and in to taylor's falls, where he has since resided. he has been treasurer of chisago county two terms, and four years register of the united states land office. for a number of years he has held the position of town and bridge treasurer. he and his two sons, george and william, are engaged in the mercantile business. his daughter, eleanor, is the wife of benj. thaxter, of minneapolis. dr. erastus d. whiting.--the whiting family, consisting of three brothers, erastus d., selah and charles b., came to taylor's falls in , and for many years were prominent merchants and business men in the village. erastus d. whiting was born in vernon centre, massachusetts, in . he was educated in the common schools and at westfield academy. at the age of sixteen he commenced reading medicine and graduated at the ohio medical college in . he practiced three years in ashtabula, ohio, and twenty years in pike county, illinois. when he came to taylor's falls he retired from practice and engaged in the mercantile and lumbering business until . during this time he served in two sessions of the minnesota legislature as representative, - . in he visited europe. he died in taylor's falls in . he was twice married; first in , to emily bradley, who died in ; and second in ----, to mrs. smith (widow of dr. l. b. smith), who died in . selah whiting was born in connecticut; came west to pike county, illinois, in , and to taylor's falls in . he engaged in the mercantile business. his wife died in . he died in . charles b. whiting was born in litchfield county, connecticut; came to pike county, illinois, in , and to taylor's falls in . he was associated with his brothers in the mercantile business. he was register of the land office four years and served as united states marshal during the war. his first wife died in taylor's falls. he was married to flavilla blanding in --. mr. whiting died in . frederic tang was born in prussia in . he learned the trade of house carpenter and served in the prussian army one year. he was married in germany, in ; came to america in and to taylor's falls in . he served three years in company c, seventh minnesota, during the rebellion. one son, frederic, resides at taylor's falls, engaged in lumbering. his oldest daughter, pena, is the wife of ernest leske, of taylor's falls. his second daughter, bertha, is the wife of david bowsher, of dakota. mr. tang died in november, . ward w. folsom was born in , in tamworth, new hampshire; was married to matilda stedman in ; came to taylor's falls in , where he kept a boarding house for several years. he died at his home, sept. , . his eldest son, charles w., was editor of the taylor's falls _reporter_ for several years. he was married to luella gray in . he died in . edward h., his second son, for some years has edited the taylor's falls _journal_. he started and conducted for some years the stillwater _lumberman_. he was married to susie way, in september, . george w. seymour was born in susquehanna county, pennsylvania, in , and came to taylor's falls in , where he has since resided, following the occupation of druggist, but occasionally holding a town office. mr. seymour held the positions of postmaster and justice of the peace for several years, and has been secretary of the taylor's falls & lake superior railroad since its organization. mr. seymour is an active member of the masonic fraternity, an ardent democrat and thoroughly trustworthy and reliable as a man and friend. he is unmarried. james a. woolley, a native of england, came to taylor's falls in . he was an engineer and in my employ as engineer and foreman in the pinery for fourteen years, during which period our association was quite intimate, and i learned to know him and esteem him as a true friend, and faithful to all his obligations as a man. he was a true christian and died in full hope of immortality. he promised, when he knew himself to be dying, to return to earth and revisit me if possible, but so far has not returned. he died in . his family removed to dakota. his oldest son, john alley, was killed in washington territory by a premature explosion of a blast in a mine, by which nineteen others were killed at the same time. alida married william mckenzie and resides at grand forks, dakota. frank w. f., the youngest son, also lives in dakota. patrick carroll, was of irish birth. his wife is a sister of patrick fox. he is about ninety years of age. they have had two sons, joseph and one drowned, and three daughters, one the wife of e. knowles, deceased, the other two becoming respectively the first and second wife of john o'brien. mr. o'brien has two daughters, minnie and lizzie, and three sons, william, joseph and daniel. joseph carroll was born at davenport, iowa, in ; came to st. croix when a boy, early in the 's, and worked for his uncle, patrick fox, in the pinery; was married to mary cotter at davenport, iowa, in . he resided at taylor's falls until , when he enlisted in a kansas regiment. he was severely wounded at springfield, missouri. he was subsequently transferred to a heavy artillery company of colored troops from tennessee, and commissioned a lieutenant. he was at fort pillow during the massacre, was taken prisoner and confined at andersonville eighteen months. after his dismissal he went to memphis and was employed in the police service until , when he and his wife died of yellow fever, leaving two daughters, one the wife of edward st. john, of marine, the other of geo. w. booth, of taylor's falls. rev. e. e. edwards was born in delaware, ohio, jan. , ; was educated at indiana asbury university, and has been employed most of his life in educational work, serving as president of whitewater college, indiana, professor of latin in hamline university, professor of natural sciences at st. charles and mckendre colleges, and president of the colorado state agricultural college. mr. edwards came to taylor's falls in the winter of , and remained two years as pastor of the methodist episcopal church, and teacher in the chisago seminary. during the last year of the war he was chaplain of the seventh minnesota volunteer infantry. in the winter of he again became pastor of the taylor's falls methodist episcopal church. he was married in to alice l. eddy, of cincinnati, ohio. his family consists of four sons and one daughter. stephen j. merrill was born in schoharie county, new york, in ; came to the st. croix valley in , and to taylor's falls in . he was married to caroline nelson in . they have six sons and one daughter. he has a beautiful and well improved homestead within the town limits, adjoining the cemetery. [illustration: rev. e. e. edwards.] noah marcus humphrey was born in , at goshen, smithfield connecticut. he removed to ohio in , served in the ohio legislature in and , and was for six years judge of probate court in summit county. he was married twice, the second time to mrs. young, in . his first wife left two children, mark, for some time a resident of taylor's falls, now deceased, and laura, wife of david caneday. judge humphrey has been justice of the peace in taylor's falls for twenty years, and postmaster for as many more. he was judge of probate court for ten years, and has recently been re-elected to that position. royal c. gray was born in bakersfield, vermont, october, . he spent his early life in vermont and massachusetts. he came west in , and located in kanabec county, where he farmed and kept a public house at greely station, on kanabec river, until , when he returned to massachusetts. in he returned to the st. croix valley and located in taylor's falls, where he still resides. he has been employed by the st. paul & duluth railroad company for ten years as surveyor and explorer, and holds some valuable pine lands. in mr. gray was married to ann eliza johnson, in massachusetts. they have one son, orin. john philip owens.--william owens, the father of john philip, came to america from north wales, and served as a soldier in the war of . john philip was born jan. , . his father died seven years later, and the son was brought up on a farm by a stepfather. he received an academic education at cincinnati, ohio. at the age of seventeen he commenced learning the printer's trade, served as an apprentice four years, and graduated on his twenty-first birthday. having some means inherited from his father, he commenced a newspaper enterprise at cincinnati, invested and lost all his money. for several years he was engaged as a reporter and assistant editor on various papers in cincinnati, louisville, vicksburg and new orleans. in he formed a business partnership with nat. mclean, of cincinnati, to establish a paper at st. paul. he arrived at st. paul may th of that year. the first number of the _minnesota register_ was printed in cincinnati and brought to st. paul for distribution in july. in october the paper was united with the _minnesota chronicle_, and so published until july, , when it was discontinued. in mr. owens and g. w. moore started the _weekly minnesotian_, adding in a daily and tri-weekly edition. the _minnesotian_ was ably edited, and was republican in politics. owing to poor health, mr. owens sold his interest in the _minnesotian_. in he was appointed quartermaster of the ninth minnesota volunteer infantry. this regiment did service in the state during the sioux war, but in was ordered south and attached to the sixteenth army corps. mr. owens served as regimental and brigade quartermaster until the close of the war. in april, , he was appointed register of the united states land office, which position he held until his death, sept. , . he was first grand master of the i. o. o. f. in minnesota; he left at his death an unpublished manuscript, "the political history of the state of minnesota." his first wife was helen mcallister, whom he married in ohio in . she left an only daughter, mary helen. mr. owens' second wife was frances m. hobbs, whom he married oct. , , in new york city. andrew clendenning was born in , in the north of ireland. he was a protestant, united with the methodist church when a young man and proved ever after a consistent christian, strong in his religious convictions and a faithful worker. he crossed the ocean in , locating first at new brunswick. in he came to michigan, in to st. croix falls, in to taylor's falls, where he resided until his death, in . he left three sons in taylor's falls, andrew, james and george, and one son in oregon. one son, joseph, died in the service of his adopted country, having enlisted in company c, seventh minnesota. one daughter, the wife of thomas thompson, of st. croix falls, died in . smith ellison was born in marine, madison county, illinois, march , . he came to marine mills in . for two years he was in the employ of judd, walker & co. the next three years he spent at osceola, wisconsin. in he engaged in logging and continued in that business for many years. in he settled on and improved a farm in sunrise. in he removed to taylor's falls and formed a partnership with l. k. stannard in the mercantile and lumbering business. mr. ellison was a representative in the eighth legislature, and served as county commissioner eight years. in late years he has been interested in a saw, planing and flour mill at stillwater. he is a stockholder and director in the first national bank at stillwater and owns large tracts of pine lands. he has applied himself closely to business, is energetic, cautious and thoroughly reliable. mr. ellison is unmarried. wyoming includes township , range . the eastern half is well timbered, the west has oak openings. sunrise river flows in a northerly direction through the township, and with its tributaries and numerous lakes supplies it abundantly with water. there are some wild meadows and tamarack swamps. green lake, in the eastern part of the township, is a picturesque sheet of water, five miles in length by one and a half broad, with sloping timbered shores and cedar points projecting into the lake, in one place forming a natural roadway nearly across, which is connected with the mainland opposite by a bridge. [illustration: smith ellison.] a colony from eastern pennsylvania settled the western part of the township in . the colony was composed of l. o. tombler, dr. john w. comfort, e. k. benton, and some others, in all ten families. the eastern part had been previously settled by swedes. the township was organized in . the supervisors were j. w. comfort, l. o. tombler and fred tepel. a post office was established at wyoming with j. engle as postmaster. the catholics and methodists erected churches in . the st. paul & duluth railroad was completed in , and in the branch road to taylor's falls. the township was settled rapidly after the completion of the railroad. at the junction of the two roads there is a good depot, two stores and a fine hotel, the latter kept by l. o. tombler. wyoming village was surveyed and platted by ben. w. brunson in , in portions of sections , and , township , range ; proprietors, western land association, l. mendenhall, agent. deer garden village was surveyed and platted by alex. cairns, october, , in sections and , township , range ; proprietor, erastus s. edgerton. lucius o. tombler was born in bethlehem, pennsylvania, in . his ancestors were moravians, who, driven from germany in the eighteenth century, came to america, and founded the colony of bethlehem, a colony famed for its thrift, advancement in educational matters, and high morality. mr. tombler and his wife, christiana brown, to whom he was married in , were educated in the moravian schools. they came with the colony from bethlehem to wyoming in , and built a two story log hotel on the st. paul and lake superior stage road, which was long noted as a rest for the weary traveler and a home for the invalid. mr. tombler was an energetic, worthy man, genial in his manners, a good farmer, a good landlord, and an accomplished musician besides. mrs. tombler possessed superior endowments as a landlady, and the house soon gained widespread popularity with the traveling public. the first hotel was burned in , but the year following a more commodious building was erected on the grounds, which, with its modern improvements within, and its park-like surroundings, is more popular with the traveling public than its predecessor. the tombler family consists of charles a., the father of lucius o., born in , but still hale and vigorous, in the possession of all his faculties, two sons, maurice and milton, and one daughter, laura. charles a., the grandfather, has received the thirty-third degree scottish masonic rite. dr. john woolman comfort was born in bucks county, pennsylvania, in . he graduated at jefferson medical college, philadelphia, in , and practiced medicine continuously, and, although an accomplished graduate of an allopathic school, was a zealous advocate and exponent of the thompsonian system, in favor of which he published several works. he was also for some years editor of the _thompsonian medical journal_. as a physician he was untiring, and impartial in the performance of his duties, never refusing a medical call on account of the poverty of the patient. he was especially kind to the poor. he came to wyoming with the colony in , and died there feb. , , leaving a widow, since deceased, one son in philadelphia, and two daughters, mrs. markley, of wyoming, and mrs. carter, of melbourne, australia. isaac markley was born in montgomery county, pennsylvania, april , . in the spring of he came westward, and engaged in steamboating. he commanded the uncle toby, and in october, , ran his steamboat from st. louis to taylor's falls for the writer of this work. he engaged in mercantile pursuits for some time in st. paul, and in came to wyoming and located on a farm. he was married to frances, a daughter of dr. comfort. he died at his home, february, . joel wright was born in pennsylvania in , and came to wyoming with the bethlehem colony in . he is a blacksmith by trade, but has also devoted himself to hunting and trapping. mr. wright has been married three times, and has three children. randall wright, second son of the foregoing, was born in pennsylvania in ; was married to anna montgomery in , and came to wyoming in . he is a house carpenter by trade. frederic tepel was born in hanover, germany, in ; received a fair education and learned the trade of blacksmithing. he came to america in , lived in new orleans one year, in st. louis ten years, in st. paul one year, and settled in wyoming in . in he was married to fredrica wilmina, of st. louis. they have seven children. mr. tepel has held many town offices to the satisfaction of his townsmen. he has been for forty years a member of the methodist church. charles henry sauer was born in germany in ; served as a soldier in the german army three years, and in the twenty-fourth year of his age came to america. the year following he returned to europe and was married. in he took up his residence in chicago, and in came to wyoming, and engaged in farming. he has three sons, fred, henry and harvey, and a daughter married to a lutheran minister. chapter xiv. washington county. the early history of washington county is to be found in the history of st. croix county, wisconsin, of which it was a part until the organization of minnesota territory in . at the first session of the territorial legislature washington county was established in full for county and judicial purposes. it included all that part of the territory lying east of the range line between ranges and and north of the mississippi as far as the british possessions and fractional parts of townships and , range . the courts held prior to this organization are referred to elsewhere. the first territorial court in washington county was held aug. , , judge aaron goodrich, presiding; judge david cooper, associate. it continued in session six days. there were sixty cases on the calendar. harvey wilson was clerk of court; a. m. mitchell, of st. paul, united states marshal; henry l. moss, district attorney; john morgan, sheriff. the lawyers present were h. l. moss; m. s. wilkinson, m. e. ames, a. m. mitchell, l. babcock, and david lambert. the second court house (the first under the new organization) was built in stillwater, corner of fourth and chestnut streets, in , at a cost of $ , . this was the first court house in the territory of minnesota. the lot was donated by john mckusick. in this building were held all the courts from to . in that year churchill & nelson donated a city block on nelson hill, a fine location overlooking the city and lake, and the county erected upon it a fine stone structure costing $ , , including jail and ground improvements. the first election was held nov. , . the following board of county officers was elected: commissioners, john mckusick, hiram berkey, joseph haskell; treasurer, socrates nelson; register of deeds, john s. proctor; judge of probate, harvey wilson; sheriff, jesse taylor. at the same election the following persons were elected justices of the peace in their various precincts: st. croix falls, jerry ross; point douglas, martin leavitt; stillwater, albert harris and h. k. mckinstry; marine, james moore and w. h. johnson. the territory of the county has been from time to time divided and subdivided for the organization of new counties. washington county, however, was divided but once. in the county of chisago was set off in the north, since which time its boundaries have been, chisago on the north, the st. croix river and lake on the east, the mississippi river on the south, anoka and ramsey counties and the mississippi river on the west. it includes the following townships: from to inclusive, ranges and , and fractional parts of townships and , range , and fractional part of township , range . afton was organized as a town in . joseph haskell, g. w. cutler and h. l. thomas were the first supervisors; minor h. thomas, clerk. it includes a fractional part of township , range . it is well watered by bolles and valley creeks, streams tributary to the st. croix. the southwestern part of the township is rolling prairie, the remainder somewhat broken. the soil is all productive and the streams afford good water powers. the township had french settlers as early as ,--baptist fornier and others. joseph haskell commenced his farm in . prior to a. mackey, l. bolles, p. j. carli, t. f. randolph, e. bissell, n. h. johnson, james getchell, and a. mchattie located in the town. the first crops were raised by the french settlers. the first marriage was that of andrew mackey to mrs. hamilton, in . the first child born was helen m. haskell, daughter of joseph haskell. the first death was that of paul j. carli, in , accidentally drowned in the lake. the first road was located between stillwater and point douglas, in . a military road was surveyed from point douglas to superior through this town in . lemuel bolles erected a flouring mill on bolles creek, in the winter of - , the first to grind wheat north of prairie du chien. the old mill was long since replaced by a new one, and the mill property has changed owners many times, emil munch being the last owner. the present mill is a fine structure with a capacity of fifty barrels per day. the first post office was at the old mill; l. bolles, postmaster. the first organized school was in the haskell district, in . the scandinavian methodists have a church in section , built in . the german lutherans have a church in section , and a parochial school. afton village. in may, , afton village was surveyed and platted by haskell, getchell & thomas, in section ; emerson & case were the surveyors. the village is beautifully located on the shore of the lake and contains one hotel, one church (congregational), one school house, an academy building, and several stores, shops and dwellings. the academy, known as the st. croix academy, was established in , and the building, a handsome three story brick structure, erected the same year. mr. gorrie was the first principal. simon putnam was the first pastor of the congregational church. south afton is located one mile south of afton, on the shores of the lake. it has an elevator, store, warehouses and other buildings. a saw mill was built by lowry & co., between afton and south afton; in , and rebuilt in by thomas & sons. the getchell brothers built a mill in , which was burned. valley creek is a small village on bolles creek, in sections and . erastus bolles located here in , and improved the water power, built a machine shop and manufactured edge tools. he sold out to his son, c. e. bolles, who further improved the property by building a corn and feed mill. in gilbert & buswell erected a flour mill with three run of stone. the post office in this village was established in , with erastus bolles as postmaster. st. mary village was platted in , on lots , and , section . thomas w. coleman, proprietor; james a. carr, surveyor. joseph haskell was born jan. , , in kennebec county, maine. during his minority he worked with his father on a farm at skowhegan, maine. in he came west, stopping two years in indiana. july , , he arrived at fort snelling on the steamer ariel, obtained employment of frank steele for whom he, with others, rowed a mackinaw boat from fort snelling to st. croix falls. while at the falls he worked on the dam and mill, then in process of building. in the fall of he made a trip to fort snelling and returned to the falls, carrying the mail in a birch canoe to catfish bar, and then across by indian trail to the fort. while on this trip he made the claim for his homestead in afton. in he put three acres under cultivation, raising corn and potatoes. this was the first attempt at farming, except by the french pioneers, who raised only garden crops, north of prairie du chien. september, , he made a trip to maine, and returned bringing three sisters with him. they kept house for him until he married. mr. haskell was married to olive furber, sister of j. w. furber, in . they have four children, helen m., mary e., henry pitt and hiram a. mr. haskell was a representative in the state legislatures of and . he was of most exemplary habits. he died at his home jan. , . lemuel bolles was born in new york. he came to st. croix falls in . in he opened a grindstone quarry in the soft, coarse sandstones, a short distance below the dalles. in - his grindstones were much used. he made stillwater his home in - , when he removed to afton. he was industrious, ingenious and eccentric. he died in stillwater in . taylor f. randolph was the first school teacher in washington county. he and his wife taught at red rock in - - - , under the supervision of the methodist mission at that place. in he settled on a farm in a valley near bissell's mounds, afton, where he and his wife died in . elijah bissell, in , located a farm near the three mounds in section , which now bear his name. he left the county in . andrew mackey.--mr. mackey, of whom some mention is made in the chapter concerning the early history, is one of the first pioneers, having come in with john boyce to the valley of the st. croix in a mackinaw boat, towed from st. louis to the mouth of lake st. croix by a steamer, from which point they poled their boat up to the st. croix falls, where they landed on the west side. from this point they made a portage and cordelled their boat, and with poles and lines ascended to snake river. he engaged for some time in lumbering, and worked at the falls until , when he settled on a beautiful farm, on a part of which afton is now situated. mr. mackey was born in kilkenny, ireland, in , and (in ) is still living. his wife died in . baytown comprises the north half of fractional township , range . the surface is somewhat uneven and broken, owing to the lake bluff formation, but there is much good farming land. originally it was covered with oaks or oak openings. it derives its name from a bay indenting the western shore of lake st. croix. at south stillwater village a considerable stream, known as spring creek, flows from some large springs and forms a good water power in its descent to the lake. two flour mills are located on this stream. in francis bruce built a house on the present site of the office of the st. croix lumber company. in the same year norman kittson built a trading post at what has been since known as kittson's point. both of these parties left in and john allen built a house and cultivated a field on the east side of kittson's point. allen sold the place in and removed to california. he raised the first crops in the town. in joseph pero became a prominent settler and made him a good home on spring creek. other parties made claims and abandoned or sold them. fiske & marty located here in . in came ambrose secrest and some others. in nelson, loomis & co. built a steam saw mill on the bay. in secrest & booth built a flour mill on spring creek. in baytown was organized as a town. the first supervisors were ambrose secrest, john parker and w. h. crosby; john j. hale, clerk. baytown village. socrates nelson, d. b. loomis, levi churchill, daniel mears, and james w. hinton, in february, , platted the village of baytown. harvey wilson was the surveyor. the location was on the lake shore, lots and , section , and lot , section . in a post office was established called south stillwater; william graves, postmaster. bangor village was platted may. , by c. i. and j. e. whitney, albert and edwin caldwell, wm. hollinshead, isaac staples, and a. j. short; j. j. carleton, surveyor. it was situated on the shore of the lake south of baytown. middletown village was platted in july, , in parts of sections and , by william holcomb; myron b. shepard, surveyor. south stillwater was platted in january, , by the st. croix railway improvement company; peter berkey, president; a. b. stickney, secretary; j. s. sewall, surveyor. south stillwater was made to include the platted villages of baytown, bangor and middletown. it has prospered greatly as a manufacturing village. in torinus, staples & co. built a steam saw mill, to which from time to time they added various manufacturing establishments. subsequently the firm became the st. croix lumber company. in the spring of this company sustained a loss by fire on their mill and appurtenances to the value of $ , , which was not insured: with indomitable energy they rebuilt, and prospered. the two leading business men in this firm were louis torinus and william chalmers. turnbull's steam saw mill, on the lake shore, has a capacity of , feet per day. the property is valued at $ , . the south stillwater lumber company has a mill with a capacity of , feet per day, with planer and other machinery attached, in which they have invested $ , . the firm consists of d. tozer, a. t. jenks, h. mcglinn, e. w. durant, and r. wheeler. the mills of the herschey lumber company, valued at $ , , have a capacity of , feet per day. the proprietor, ---- herschey, lives in muscatine, iowa. the stillwater dock company was organized in . the company consists of durant, wheeler & co., st. croix lumber company and jonah bachelder. they have built many fine steamers and barges. their repairing docks are a great convenience to steamboat lumbermen. the south stillwater soap factory, owned by mckenzie & co., deserves honorable mention. the construction of the branch railroad from stillwater in , and the st. paul & milwaukee railroad, built in , have greatly increased the prosperity of the village. aside from mills and manufactories there are many private residences, one hotel, stores, shops, a lutheran church, and a school house. there are three cemeteries in the village limits known as hazlewood, st. michael's, and the potter's field. the block for the former was contributed by secrest & pero, in . st. michael's was established by the catholics in . the potter's field was established by the city of stillwater in . the first death in the limits of south stillwater was that of sylvester, son of joseph pero. south stillwater was organized in . first board of officers were: president, b. e. meigs; clerk, edward ivison; councilmen, richard burns, c. m. anderson, charles kregor; justice of the peace, ambrose secrest. south stillwater has a graded school with four departments. cottage grove includes township and a fractional part of township , range . it was organized as a town in october, ; james s. norris, moderator; william watson, clerk; john atkinson, jacob moshier, joel munger, judges of election; william watson, john atkinson, b. winant; supervisors. wm. ferguson, lewis hill, james s. davis, jonathan brown, and jacob moshier were the first settlers, locating here in . the first marriage was that of henry w. crosby to hannah waterman, in . the first child born was nathan, son of john atkinson, in ; the first death was that of mehitable, wife of p. p. furber, in . a post office was established at cottage grove village in ; j. w. furber was postmaster. the chicago, milwaukee & st. paul railroad was completed through the town in . with its fine natural advantages of soil, and its convenient access to markets, cottage grove is well settled and prosperous. cottage grove village is situated in section . it is a pleasant inland village, well supplied with stores, shops and dwellings. it has one hotel, one school house and three churches, congregational, evangelical german lutheran and methodist. the congregational society was organized in , rev. b. hall, pastor; the evangelical in ; the methodist some years later. the universalists also have an organization. the village was platted in april, , by john p. and s. w. furber, james a. mcclusky, margaret m. ellwell and clarence smith, in the southwest quarter of the northwest quarter of section ; j. w. furber, surveyor. langdon village was platted in december, , in the southwest quarter of section , on the line of the chicago, milwaukee & st. paul railroad. it contains an elevator, hotel, three stores, a school house, catholic church and other buildings. the catholic church was erected in . father huxley is the officiating clergyman. the village was platted by joseph j. dodge; c. b. lowell, surveyor. joseph w. furber was born in new hampshire in . his ancestors came to this country with the early colonists of new england. his father was a soldier in the war of . during his minority he worked at farming, obtaining, meanwhile, an education in the common schools and at foxcroft academy, maine. he emigrated to the valley of the mississippi in , locating at alton, illinois, where he remained for two years. in he came to st. croix falls and engaged in lumbering until , when he located in cottage grove. in mr. furber represented crawford county in the wisconsin legislature as representative. he traveled on foot as far as prairie du chien on his way to the capital of the territory. he represented the first district in the first minnesota territorial legislature and was elected speaker of the house; was again a representative in the eighth territorial legislature in ; was a member of the tenth and seventeenth state legislatures. in he was commissioned major general of minnesota militia. he was also appointed united states marshal of minnesota by president fillmore. he died at his residence in cottage grove in . he was a man of strong intellect, sound judgment and high moral character. his widow, sarah wimples, to whom he was married in , one son, william w., and two daughters survive him. samuel w. furber was born in stafford county, new hampshire, in . he removed with his parents to milo, maine, and came to cottage grove in . theodore furber was born in , in farmington, new hampshire; came west in and located at st. croix falls. in the following year he moved to cottage grove. mr. furber was married to sarah j. hale in , in skowhegan, maine. mr. and mrs. furber visited california in . in they removed to california. james s. norris.--james s. norris was born in monmouth, kennebec county, maine, in . he was married at newport in to miss haskell. mr. norris came to st. croix falls in , removed to washington county in , where he settled on a farm at cottage grove, and lived continuously till his death, march , . he raised the first crops in cottage grove, and though he made farming his chief business, his abilities were such that his fellow citizens intrusted him with many official positions, in all of which he acquitted himself with honor. he acted as county commissioner, was a member of the first territorial council, member of the sixth and seventh territorial house of representatives, and speaker of the sixth, a member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention, and of the twelfth state legislature (house). lewis hill was born at hollis, maine, in . in he came to the valley of the st. croix and located at st. croix falls. in he came to cottage grove and engaged in farming, and, excepting a few years spent in dakota county, has resided there since. he was married to abbie welch in . their living children are emma c., jessie l. and frederick e. g. jacob moshier was born in nova scotia in . he removed with his parents in to canada west. in he removed to illinois, in to st. croix falls, and in to cottage grove, where he still resides. he is a house carpenter, and has also been engaged in farming. he was married in to maria shatto. their children are annie f., mahala, william, addie, grant, laura, and george. william ferguson came to cottage grove in , and made a claim in section . john atkinson was born in lewiston, maine, april , . he remained in his native town until , resided in pittsfield until , when he came west and located in cottage grove. he pre-empted eighty acres of land, purchased additions to it from time to time, and made for himself a very attractive home, where he resided thirty years. mr. atkinson was twice married, first to hannah moore, at lewiston, maine, who died in , then to mrs. a. b. fiske, of baytown, at which place he now resides, an aged, much respected citizen. his first wife left four sons and two daughters. denmark. this town is located on the point of land between the mississippi river and lake st. croix, and includes the territory lying south of afton, and between cottage grove and lake st. croix, fractional townships and , range . the surface is elevated, somewhat rolling, without lakes or streams, and the soil rich and well adapted to agricultural purposes. the early history of the town is substantially that of its earliest settlement, point douglas. it was organized in . supervisors, john shearer, thomas wright and david hone. point douglas. levi hertzell and oscar burris, young men, located in on the extreme point of the delta between the mississippi and st. croix lake, where they cut wood and sold it to the steamboats. they built a log cabin and store, under one roof, and traded with indians, discharged soldiers and french settlers. they were diligent and industrious, and prospered. in they built a frame store building. their trade increased and they grew wealthy. messrs. levi hertzell, oscar burris and david hone, in , platted the village of point douglas, harvey wilson acting as surveyor. it was named in honor of stephen a. douglas. the following settlers came to point douglas prior to : wm. b. dibble, the truaxes, harley d. white, david barber, e. h. whittaker, james shearer, martin leavitt, simon shingledecker, h. a. carter, thomas hetherington, geo. w. campbell, john allibone, mark wright, john h. craig, john o. henry, and george harris. the first post office north of prairie du chien was established in , on the site of prescott, at that time known as "mouth of st. croix." this office was removed to the opposite side of the lake in , and levi hertzell was appointed postmaster. the first school was taught in , by john craig. rev. joseph hurlbut, a methodist minister, preached here in . in rev. t. wilcoxson, episcopalian, established "st. paul's parish." mr. woodruff erected a saw mill in . the enterprise was not successful. a. j. short built a saw mill in , which eventually passed into the hands of john dudley. the first road to point douglas was the stillwater county road, located in . the point douglas and lake superior military road was built in . a ferry was established in from point douglas to prescott, which was chartered in , and controlled by w. b. dibble, who also established a ferry from point douglas to hastings in . the first marriage was that of oscar burris to amanda m. henry, nov. , . the first birth was that of emmet m. hone, born in , son of david and mary g. hone. levi hertzell came to point douglas in , and was quite successful in business. in he was married to rhoda c. pond, an adopted daughter of cornelius lyman, of stillwater. in , in company with burris and hone, he platted the village of point douglas. in the spring of , while in new york, whither he had gone to purchase goods, he mysteriously disappeared, and nothing has since been heard from him. mrs. hertzell and her three children were left in a dependent condition, she being able to realize but little from the property held in point douglas. she soon after married again. of her subsequent history nothing is known. oscar burris, associated with levi hertzell as one of the first settlers of point douglas and pioneer merchants and traders, left in for california. david hone.--the following statement was given me, on request, by mr. hone himself: "i was born in cherry valley, otsego county, new york, april , , and was married to mary henry in . we came by stage over the mountains of pennsylvania to pittsburgh and by steamboat from there to cairo, illinois, and stopped at the marine settlement until sept. , . at that time i embarked on the steamboat ariel, at st. louis, and in twenty-five days reached the head of lake st. croix, from which point i proceeded on a flatboat, propelled by poles, to st. croix falls, the trip occupying two days. i made a pine timber claim on an island opposite the mouth of kettle river. on my return, which was made with eight companions in birch canoes, i stopped at marine and made a claim where the marine mill now stands, intending to build a saw mill. we then proceeded in our canoes to galena, where we took passage on the ariel for st. louis, landing there november th, after an absence of two months, more than half of which had been spent on the water. we reported favorably, and, organizing a company of thirteen at marine settlement, illinois, with a capital of $ , , got our material together at st. louis during the winter, and embarked on the fayette, may , , for the point afterward known as marine mills, minnesota. we arrived may th and commenced at once to work upon the projected mill, which was completed sept. , . i remained at the mill until march, , when i removed to gray cloud. i made a claim at point douglas in , and moved upon it in april of that year. in i built the union house, the first frame house built in the territory now embraced in minnesota. at gray cloud i acted as justice of the peace. i was appointed deputy sheriff by sheriff r. d. lester of crawford county, and held the office until minnesota territory was organized. my first wife died in november, , leaving three sons, edwin a., john h. and emmet m. in i was married to electa barnes, of st. paul. in i removed to hastings, my present home." mr. hone died at hastings, july , . william b. dibble was born in the state of new york in . he spent part of his early life in pennsylvania, georgia, alabama and illinois. he came to the st. croix valley in , and was one of the founders of marine, minnesota, from whence he removed to point douglas in , and established ferries across lake st. croix to prescott, and across the mississippi river to hastings. he also engaged in farming. he was twice married, first in , to eliza mccauslin, who died in , then to mary wright, who, with nine children, survives him. mr. dibble died in . george harris was born in pennsylvania in . in his father removed to illinois and was killed during the black hawk war while acting as sentry. at the age of eight years george commenced working on a farm, and continued nine years. he then removed to missouri and remained until , when he came to stillwater and engaged in lumbering. soon afterward he settled on a farm near point douglas, where he still resides. his family consists of a wife (formerly alice white) and seven children. harley d. white was born in orange county, vermont, in ; came to prairie du chien in and engaged in selling goods; removed to red rock in where he sold goods in partnership with daniel hopkins, and settled on a farm at point douglas in . some years later he removed to beattie, kansas. he was married to mrs. e. tainter, of st. croix falls, in . she died in , leaving a daughter, who was adopted into the family of w. h. tinker, of st. paul. this daughter became a teacher and taught in the public schools of st. paul for a period of eighteen years, and with her earnings purchased a home for her foster parents. mr. white married a second time and reared two sons, one an editor, now residing in alameda, california. the other is engaged in farming in kansas. mr. white died in april, . thomas hetherington was born in northumberland, england, in ; came to canada at the age of sixteen years and to point douglas in and settled on a farm at basswood grove, where he died in , leaving his family in good circumstances. he was held in great esteem as an upright man by those who knew him. james shearer was born at palmer, massachusetts, oct. , . he was engaged in the mercantile business from to , when he sold out and went to canada. he came to point douglas may , , and engaged in farming. he held various offices of trust in the county and town. he served as county commissioner for years, postmaster years, chairman of town board of denmark for years, and town treasurer years. mr. shearer was married to minerva j. taylor, march , . their children are marcus, martha and irvin. simon shingledecker was born in germany in ; came to america in and located in ohio, where he worked nine years as a farmer. he removed thence to illinois, then to st. louis, and in came to hudson, wisconsin, where he engaged in lumbering. in he located on a farm near point douglas, which is still his home. in he was married to margaret truax. they have eight children. caleb traux was born in mohawk valley in . he became a citizen of montreal and was there married to elisabeth morehouse. he removed to point douglas in , where he followed the business of farmer and house carpenter. he was a representative in the fourth territorial legislature. he died at his home in , leaving seven sons and three daughters. abraham truax was born in brooklynn, canada west. he came to point douglas in ; removed to hastings in . while there he was elected sheriff of dakota county. he returned to point douglas in , where he still resides. he was married to mary lahey in . mrs. truax died in , leaving five children. george w. campbell was born in canton, new york, april , . he received a common school and academic education. his father died in , leaving to george w. the care of the family and the management of the estate. he was married in , at cornwell, canada west, to margaret harriet robinson. he came to point douglas in , where he has lived since, engaged in farming and lumbering. he was a representative in the first state legislature, - . mrs. campbell died at her home in point douglas in , aged seventy-four years. she had been a member of the episcopal church for sixty years. six of her seven surviving children with the aged husband and father attended the funeral. mr. campbell died in . forest lake. this town includes township , range . the surface was originally covered with hardwood timber, interspersed with wild meadows; the western part with oak, maple, poplar and tamarack. the first settlers were louis schiel, wilson, rice and cyrus gray. later came simmons, posten, marsh, york, and banty. the first marriage was that of francis cartwright to mary long, in . the first child born was rebecca simmons. the first death was that of frederic veith, in . in the first school district was organized. a methodist church was organized in by rev. adam ringer. the forest lake lodge, i. o. g. t., was organized in . a post office was established in ; michael marsh, postmaster. the town of forest lake was organized in ; w. d. benedict, a. c. york and george simmons, supervisors; louis schiel, clerk. forest lake village was platted may, , in the northwest part of the town, by luther mendenhall, agent of the western land company, and surveyed by b. w. brunson. it is beautifully located on the shore of forest lake and is rapidly becoming a popular place of resort for summer tourists and pleasure parties. the lake is almost separated into three distinct parts by points or capes. it is five miles from the northwest to the southeast extremity and is nearly two miles wide at the widest point. its shores are well timbered and approach the water's edge in gravelly slopes. the indications are that the lake was once much larger. in the south lakes the water is deepest, averaging twenty feet. the south lakes have also higher banks. the lake covers territory in sections to , inclusive, of township , range . capt. michael marsh is a native of wesemburg, germany, and has resided at this lake nineteen years. he has done much to make it attractive as a place of resort. he has built a hotel with seventy-five rooms for the accommodation of summer visitors, and has placed a steamer, the germania, upon the lake. capt. marsh was married in germany and has a family of two sons and three daughters. grant. this town was organized in , under the name of greenfield. in the name was changed to grant. it comprises township , range . the soil is a sand and clay loam, with clay gravel subsoil. the surface varies from undulating to rolling, and was originally well timbered with white, black and burr oak. white bear lake lies partly within the township, occupying about , acres. other and smaller lakes are pine, stone quarry, deep, ben's, and long. the first officers of the town were: moderator, joseph crane; clerk, jesse h. soule; supervisors, albion masterman, james rutherford and joseph crane. the first settlers were albion masterman and william rutherford, in . soon after came james rutherford, thomas ramsdell and george bennett. albion masterman built the first house, and his wife, formerly eliza middleton, was the first woman in the settlement. the first public highway through the town was the rum river road. the first child born was castinea o. rutherford. the first death was that of james, son of james rutherford. the first school house was built in section , in . joseph crane taught the first school. the first sermon was preached by rev. ---- hamlin, a free will baptist, but the first religious organization was that of the german protestant lutheran. rev. siegrist was the first pastor. the church building is in section , and was built in . the spiritualists had an organization in , of which jesse h. soule was president, and george walker secretary. summer meetings were held, and lecturers from abroad invited to address them. dellwood village was platted in september, , on the line of the stillwater & white bear railroad, on the shore of white bear lake; augustus k. and carrie barnum, proprietors; simon & morton, surveyors. eagle city was platted in ; proprietors, k. starkey and chas. g. pettys; surveyor, daniel s. turpen. it is located in the southwest quarter of section . mahtomedi was platted in july, ; proprietors, mahtomedi assembly; surveyors, hone & holland. white bear lake has become a noted resort for tourists and pleasure parties. a steamboat plies regularly upon its waters during the open months, and the stillwater & white bear, the st. paul & duluth and the wisconsin central railroads render it easy of access. it is made attractive by the beauty of its scenery, the clearness and brightness of its waters and its convenient distance from st. paul, minneapolis and stillwater. the mahtomedi association have erected here a fine hotel, assembly houses and numerous cottages for the accommodation of summer visitors. summer schools are held here under the auspices of the chautauqua association. the grounds are also adapted to camp meetings, conventions and military parades. wildwood park was platted in , by the park association; elmer & newell, surveyors. it is located on white bear lake, on the line of the stillwater & white bear railroad. william elliott was born in ireland in . his parents removed to new brunswick in , whence he came to minnesota in , and located in grant in , devoting himself to farming. he had been a pilot and a lumberman. his second wife was mary crawford. they have eight children. frederick lamb was born in prussia in ; served three years in the prussian army, traveled some time for a manufacturing firm in germany through switzerland, france, england, and italy; came to america in , and to stillwater in . for some time he was unsettled as to his location, but in made his home in stillwater, where he remained until , when he located in grant. he was married in to lena laroche. a son and a daughter lost their lives by accident. three daughters are living. james rutherford was born in the parish of elsdon, northumberland county, england, in . in he came with his parents to america. in he came to the valley of the st. croix and located in what is now the town of grant. he built a flour mill on brown's creek. he engaged in farming and also in lumbering for many years. he was married to elisabeth smith in . he died at his residence sept. , . four children survive him. jesse h. soule has been a prominent and enterprising citizen of grant since . he was born at avon, franklin county, maine, in . mr. soule came to grant when there were but six families in the town, and pre-empted one hundred and fifty acres of land, where he made him a pleasant and attractive home. he has held many positions of trust, having been elected town clerk, which office he held twenty-two years, justice of the peace, assessor, superintendent of schools and county commissioner. he represented his district in the house of the sixth state legislature in . mr. soule has been married three times. his first wife left one daughter, his second wife two sons, twins, osmar and winfield; his third wife, who still lives, rachel michener, to whom he was married in , has three children, alice, olive and reuel. albion masterman and william rutherford, the first settlers of grant township, are mentioned among the biographies of the chapter on stillwater. lakeland. this town includes the south half of fractional township , range , and comprises about , acres. the surface is quite diversified, ranging from undulating prairie land to hills. before settlement there were prairies and oak openings. the soil is productive and is well cultivated. the first settlers were french, who located along the lake shore in - . these early settlers raised the first crops, but were gardeners rather than farmers, and were transient. the first american settler was henry w. crosby, who came in , and located on the site of the present village of lakeland. george clark, a young man, came with him and made a claim near the ferry, but was drowned not long afterward. this was the first death in the town of which we have any mention. the first marriage was that of wm. oliver and mrs. mary davis, a sister of joseph haskell, in ; the next was that of a. b. green to eliza m. oliver, oct. , . a ferry was established in . moses perrin built a hotel and saw mill the ensuing year, and platted the village of lakeland. another mill was built by ballard & reynolds. in stearns, watson & co. built an extensive saw mill at a cost of $ , . this mill changed hands many times, finally passing into the hands of c. n. nelson, who enlarged it to a capacity of , , feet per annum, a $ , investment. the st. paul & milwaukee railroad traverses this town near and parallel to the lake shore. the town contributed $ , in ten per cent bonds to the building of the road, for which they received an equal amount of railroad stock. the st. paul & omaha railroad crosses the lake and a part of the northeastern part of the township of lakeland. the railroad bridge has its western terminus in lakeland, a short distance above the village. lakeland was organized as a town oct. , . the first board of supervisors consisted of charles a. oliver, elias megean and a. d. kingsley. lakeland village, situated on the lake shore, nearly opposite hudson, wisconsin, was platted in by moses perrin. a school was taught in by harriet e. newell. a post office was established in ; freeman c. tyler was the first postmaster. lakeland has the following benevolent and social societies: masons, golden rule lodge, no. , organized in ; temple of honor, organized ; the independent order of good templars, no. , organized in . it has a baptist and congregational church. henry w. crosby was born in albany, new york, in . he spent his youth in buffalo. in he came to st. croix falls, and in to the banks of lake st. croix, and located on the site of the village of lakeland where he resided ten years. during the ensuing thirteen years he followed his trade as machinist at various places, besides serving three years as a volunteer in the eighth minnesota volunteer infantry. he was married in cottage grove in , to hannah waterhouse. he has four sons. reuben h. sanderson.--mr. sanderson was born in genesee county, new york, in . he received a common school education and studied one year in brockport collegiate institute. he came to lakeland in , and followed the business of a house carpenter. mr. sanderson has filled many town offices, and was a member of the democratic wing of the state constitutional convention in . newton mckusick, the oldest son of john mckusick, was born in stillwater in . he received a good education in the city schools, completed at the minnesota state university, and located on a farm in lakeland in . he was married to jennie l. green, of stillwater, june , . his home and farm display taste and thrift worthy of commendation. capt. john oliver.--john oliver was born march , , at land's end, england. he was bred to a seafaring life, and the early part of his life was well spiced with adventure. he escaped from the british service to enter the american, but was twice captured, and after the second capture suffered a rigorous imprisonment at dartmoor, england. at the close of the war he came to the united states and became a boston harbor pilot, a responsible calling which he followed for thirty-three years. he came to the west in , and settled in lakeland. in he was married to sarah spear, whose father was one of the celebrated boston tea party in . capt. oliver, after his removal to lakeland, busied himself in farming. he died on the homestead in , leaving a widow who survived until , and five sons, two having died prior to . of his seven sons, six were in the union army in minnesota regiments during the rebellion: wm. h., thomas e., charles a., george a., walter j., and howard f. walter j. died in the army. asa barlow green.--the name of capt. green was once familiar on the st. croix. he was a man of varied talents and striking characteristics, who, in a public life extending over a period of many years, figured as a lawyer, sheriff, probate judge, steamboat captain, minister, chaplain, and missionary. he was born at warren, vermont, , and during his minority lived at home. he had a common school education, and by his own efforts attained a knowledge of the law and was admitted to practice in minnesota and wisconsin in . he served as sheriff in washington county, held the office of probate judge, and some minor offices. he commanded the steamer equator in , when that boat was wrecked on lake st. croix. he was part owner of the boat. in he was ordained as a minister of the calvinist baptist church. in he entered the united states service as chaplain of the third wisconsin volunteers, and served three years, after which he devoted himself to ministerial and missionary labors. he died in whitewater, wisconsin. l. a. huntoon located in lakeland in , and engaged in mercantile pursuits. he served as town clerk and postmaster, filling the latter position fifteen years. he represented his district in the house of the seventh and nineteenth legislatures. he died suddenly at his home in , leaving a wife and three children. his oldest son, samuel, a promising young man, principal of the hammond high school, and fitting himself for the medical college, was drowned oct. , , in cutter's lake, at the age of twenty-one. he was much esteemed and lamented. marine. the town of marine includes townships and , range , and fractional townships and , range . the surface is somewhat rolling, and before settlement was timbered chiefly with hardwood. it is dotted with beautiful lakes, some of which have abrupt and hilly shores. the more noted of these lakes are big, carnelian, square, bony, terrapin, long, fish, and hay. next to st. croix falls, marine contains the earliest settlement in the valley. in september, , lewis judd and david hone were deputized by a company of men residing in marine, illinois, to visit the northwest and examine the region recently secured by treaty from the chippewas, and to return the same year and report upon its advantages of climate, soil and other resources. they were authorized also to locate a claim for a future settlement, if they found one entirely suitable. they embarked on the steamer ariel at st. louis, september th, and were twenty-five days reaching the head of lake st. croix, whence they proceeded in a flatboat propelled by poles up the st. croix as far as the falls, and thence to the mouth of kettle river. returning by birch canoes, they stopped at the site of the present village of marine, and there made a mill claim. they then returned to marine, illinois, where they arrived november th, and reported favorably on the location chosen. during the following winter a verbal agreement was made by thirteen persons, all of marine settlement, to start in the spring and build a saw mill on the distant st. croix. on april th this company left st. louis on the steamer fayette for the new settlement, which they reached on the thirteenth of may. the fayette was chartered expressly for this voyage. they took with them mill irons, farming tools, household goods, three yoke of oxen, and cows. the members of the party were lewis, george and albert judd, david hone, orange walker, asa s. and madison parker, samuel burkelo, wm. b. dibble, dr. lucius green, joseph cottrell, and hiram berkey. when they landed they found jeremiah russell and levi w. stratton in possession of the claim, they having taken possession during the preceding winter. these men demanded and received three hundred dollars for relinquishing the claim to its rightful owners. the colonists set to work immediately to build a log cabin as a temporary shelter, which being completed, they commenced the mill, and worked with such energy that it was finished in ninety days. the first wheel used was a flutter wheel, which, not proving satisfactory, was replaced by an overshot with buckets. this mill sawed the first lumber in the st. croix valley. orange walker was the first clerk and chieftain of the concern, and when anything was wanted a call of the company would be made, and the members assembled. no article of agreement existed. only one book was kept for a series of years--a unique affair, no doubt. the first installment was $ ; second, $ ; third, $ ; all within two years, after which the company became self sustaining. no partner forfeited his stock. one by one the partners sold out their interest, until orange walker and g. b. judd were the owners. the company was first known as the marine lumber company. in the name was changed to judd, walker & co., the firm consisting then of the judd brothers, orange walker, samuel burkelo, asa parker, and h. berkey. in , when orange walker was sole owner, he associated with him samuel judd and w. h. veazie, and the firm name has since been walker, judd & veazie. the colonists raised, during the first year, corn, potatoes and garden vegetables. they found the indians peaceably inclined toward the settlers, though the chippewas and sioux kept up a constant warfare with each other. during the winter of - four members of the company, parker, berkey, green and dibble, were sent to the mouth of kettle river to cut logs. marine was organized as a town in , with the following supervisors: j. r. m. gaskell; john e. mower and b. f. allen. marine mills village. the settlement gradually grew into the village of marine mills, which was not platted, however, until , nor incorporated until . the following was the first board of officers: president, orange walker; councilmen, j. r. m. gaskell, ola westergreen and asa s. parker. until the mail was received from ft. snelling by private conveyance, when a monthly mail service was established from point douglas, and samuel burkelo was appointed postmaster. the first jury trial in the st. croix valley was held at marine, in , before joseph r. brown, justice of the peace. the case was that of philander prescott against chas. d. foote, plaintiff charging defendant with jumping a claim. the jury consisted of samuel burkelo, orange walker, h. berkey, david hone. j. haskell, j. s. norris, a. mchattie, a. mackey, h. sweezy, francis nason, and two others. the claim in dispute was located near prescott. the court adjourned to allow the jury to visit prescott to ascertain if the claim had been made in accordance with custom. on viewing the premises the jury failed to agree, and the matter was compromised by prescott allowing foote eighty acres of the claim. the first white child born in marine was sarah anna waterman, in . dr. wright, the first physician, located in marine in . the first marriage was that of wm. b. dibble to eliza mccauslin, in . the first death was that of a child of w. h. nobles, in . the first sermon preached was by rev. j. hurlburt, a methodist missionary, jan. , . the first school was taught by sarah judd, in . the swedish evangelical lutherans built the first church in the town of marine, in section , in , a log structure afterward used as a school, its place being supplied by a new structure in section in . in a large church × feet, ground plan, and with steeple feet high, succeeded the second structure. a fine parsonage was attached. this church was blown down by a cyclone in , but was rebuilt. the swedish methodists built a church on the south side of long lake in ; c. p. agrelius, pastor. the congregationalists commenced the first church and perfected the first organization in marine village, in . the church was completed and dedicated in . rev geo. spaulding was the first pastor. the second congregational church was erected in , in section . the swedish lutherans have a church and congregation in the village of marine. the church was built in . rev. l. o. lindh was the first pastor. oakland cemetery association was organized in and the cemetery located near marine village. improvements. a passable road was opened from stillwater to marine in . the government road from point douglas to superior was built through marine in - . the company built the first frame dwelling, on a point above the mill, in . the mill company built a frame store in the same year. this building was burned in ; loss, $ , . the only hotel until was a log building, when the marine store was built. the lightner house was built in , the st. croix house in . the marine flour mill was built in by gaskell & co. the first flour was manufactured in . the mill is four stories high and is furnished with a turbine wheel. the water is brought a distance of , feet by an elevated race. the arcola saw mills were built in the winter of - , by martin mower, david b. loomis, joseph brewster and w. h. c. folsom. they were located on the river shore three miles below marine mills. the motive power is an overshot wheel, propelled by water from two large springs. the mill is now the property of martin mower. the losses by fire in marine have been: the marine saw mill, sept. , , loss $ , ; judd & gaskell's store, jan. , , loss $ , ; samuel b. judd's dwelling, april, , loss $ , ; w. h. veazie's dwelling, april, , loss $ , . a heavy financial failure occurred in the winter of - . the firm of walker, judd & veazio were compelled to make an assignment; indebtedness, $ , . in the ensuing may, by order of the court, the mill property with its assets passed into the hands of a newly constituted organization, styled the marine lumber company. this company was composed of the creditors of judd, walker & veazie; b. c. keater, president; ed. st. john, superintendent; capital stock, $ , . in the property passed into the hands of anderson & o'brien. vasa village was platted in , in section , township , range , by b. f. and mary jane otis and john columbus; w. p. payte, surveyor. james russell, james cilley and frank register in built a steam saw mill. james russell built a three story hotel. a saloon and other buildings were erected, but the village did not prosper, and the site is now abandoned. there are several ancient mounds in the town site which have been utilized to some extent as burial mounds. one in the rear of the school house contains the remains of caroline reid, a sister of mrs. b. f. otis, and hiram otis, a son of the latter. a mound on the farm of john copas contains the remains of john columbus, buried there at his own request with the body of his favorite dog. a post office was established at scandia, in the northern part of marine, in ; john m. johnson, postmaster. the upper part of the town of marine was at one time organized as a town called vasa, but has since been merged in marine. orange walker was born at st. albans, vermont, sept. , . his ancestors were of english stock and revolutionary fame. he received a good common school education, and at the age of sixteen entered as an apprentice in a tanner and currier's establishment in st. albans. after learning the trade he worked at it some time in milton, vermont. in he came west, and located at jacksonville, illinois, where he worked at his trade and also engaged in farming until , when he became a member of the marine lumber company, and came with them to marine, where he resided a period of forty-eight years. during that time he has been the most active and influential man in the company, having been in almost constant service as its president or principal agent. mr. walker was well known to the earlier dwellers in the st. croix valley as a hale, hearty, well informed man, prompt in fulfilling his engagements, and liberal in everything that pertains to the general good. mr. walker filled many public positions. he was county commissioner ten years, postmaster twenty-five years, and represented his district in the house of the second minnesota legislature in - . he was married sept. , , to mrs. georgiana lockwood, of prescott, formerly miss barton, a native of wilkesbarre, pennsylvania. mrs. walker died oct. , . mr. walker died aug. , . lewis walker, brother of orange walker, was born in st. albans, vermont, in ; in early life removed to marine, illinois, and in came to marine mills, minnesota. he spent many years at the st. croix upper boom, and the last fifteen years of his life he lived in osceola. he was a quiet, peaceable citizen, exemplary in his habits and respected by all his acquaintances. he died in osceola in . mr. walker was married in to calphrunia white, who, with two daughters, survives him. the oldest daughter, ella, has been for many years a teacher in the minneapolis and st. paul and other schools. emma is the wife of henry fifield, a printer and journalist of northern michigan. samuel burkelo was born in kent county, delaware, march , . he came to marine in , being one of the thirteen constituting the marine lumber company. he remained with the company ten years, removed to stillwater and engaged in the mercantile business. in he removed to a farm in lakeland, where he died in . he was one of the commissioners appointed in to organize st. croix county, and represented his district in the council of the first and second territorial legislatures. he was married dec. , , to susan mccauslin, at point douglas. four children survive him. asa s. parker was born in windsor county, vermont, july , . his youth was spent in vermont, new york and illinois. he was by trade a brickmaker. he joined the marine company and came to marine in . he continued a member of the company until , since which time he has been engaged in farming and selling goods at marine. mr. parker is a quiet, unobtrusive gentleman, well posted in general matters. he was a very useful member of the company. he was eight years county commissioner, and has filled responsible town and county positions. he was married in to isabella thompson. archie i., an only son, living with his parents, was married to lena smith in . hiram berkey was born in somerset county, pennsylvania, oct. , . he came to st. louis, missouri, in , but made collinsville, illinois, his home, and engaged in farming. he came to marine mills in , and was one of the original company that founded marine. he sold his interest in , since which time he has been engaged in hotel keeping and farming. he served as county commissioner four years, and filled local offices. he was married to jennie mccarty, of pennsylvania, oct. , . they have one son, john r. geo. b. judd was born in farmington, connecticut, oct. , . in he came to illinois and engaged in farming and merchandising. in he became a member of the marine company, and came up on the fayette, but did not make his residence there until . he retained his interest in the company until about . he removed to st. louis in , and became a member of the enterprising commission firm of judd & hammond. after his removal to marine he engaged in the mercantile and lumbering business. mr. judd died at his home in marine in . james hale was born in , in putnam county, indiana; lived five years in illinois, and came to marine mills in , where he engaged in farming. he was married to mary finnegan in . mr. hale died feb. , . john holt was born in jefferson county, kentucky, in . he came to marine in . in he was married to mary jane ward, and removed to stillwater, where for two years he kept the minnesota house, at the southwest corner of main and chestnut streets. returning to marine in he followed lumbering and farming many years. during the latter portion of his life he was afflicted with partial blindness. he died jan. , , leaving two children. george holt, brother to john holt, was born in kentucky in , where he spent his early life. after spending a year at prairie du chien, in he came to marine and obtained employment with the marine company. in he removed to stillwater, and engaged in the livery stable and hotel business until , when he returned with his brother to marine. he claims to have carried, in , the first leathern mail pouch from stillwater to taylor's falls. during the rebellion he served one year in company g, fourth minnesota volunteer infantry. while residing in marine he has been engaged chiefly in farming, rafting and lumbering. in he was married to melinda ward. they have five children. william town was born in rome, n. y., . in he removed to warren county, illinois, and in he was married to louisa robinson. he came to marine in ; removed to st. croix falls in ; to osceola prairie in , and to taylor's falls in , where he died in . his first wife died at osceola in , leaving three daughters, one the wife of w. j. seavey, of taylor's falls, one the first wife of henry mallen, of farmington, wisconsin, and one the wife of e. hines bates, of taylor's falls. mr. town was married in to mrs. mary collins, formerly mary talboys. a daughter of mrs. town, by her first husband, is the wife of n. p. bailey, of taylor's falls. mr. town's aged mother came to osceola prairie in , and died in june, , aged ninety-seven years. mrs. abbott, of moorhead, and mrs. richmond, of farmington, are her daughters. matthias welshance was born in , in pennsylvania, where he lived during his minority and learned the carpenter's trade. in he removed to galena, illinois, in to st. croix falls and in to marine mills, where he worked at his trade until . from that time until his death, may , , he was engaged in hotel keeping. he was for nine years keeper of the marine hotel and has since been proprietor of the st. croix house. he was married nov. , , to mary j. hooper. they have five children living. one daughter, mrs. tolan, met a tragic death at the hands of an insane husband, in . mr. welshance died in . benjamin t. otis was born in fairfield, maine, in . he came to st. croix falls in , and engaged in lumbering. in he located on what is known as colby flat, on the site of taylor's falls, and improved a farm. in he removed to marine. his first wife died suddenly at marine. he was married to mrs. church, of stillwater, in . henry f., a son by his first wife, enlisted in , in the seventh minnesota volunteers, was wounded in , and honorably discharged. william clark was born in new brunswick, july, . he came to marine mills in , and since has followed lumbering. he married elisa jane nelson in . mrs. clark died in , leaving two daughters. james r. meredith was born aug. , , in white county, illinois, where he lived until eighteen years of age, when he removed to galena, where he spent five years in mining. he went thence to burlington, iowa, and in located in marine, and was employed by the marine company several years. in he located upon his present farm. in he was married to eleanor freeman. they have three children living. john d. and thomas e. ward. the ward brothers are natives of massachusetts. they came to the st. croix valley with their brothers-in-law, john and george holt. they have engaged chiefly in steamboating and river business. samuel judd, son of lewis judd, was born in illinois in . he graduated at mckendrie college, lebanon, illinois, and came to marine in , and became a member of the firm of walker, judd & veazie. in he was married to amelia d. flaherty, at st. louis. their children are orange w. and lucille m. in he changed his residence to st. paul. frederic w. lammers was born in germany in . he came to america in , locating first at st. louis, where he remained two years. in he removed to the st. croix valley, and for several years engaged in lumbering. in he settled on a farm in taylor's falls, and was married to helen c. nelson, of marine. in he sold his farm and removed to big lake marine. mr. lammers has been a public spirited and excellent citizen. his family consisted of fifteen children; of these thirteen are living. james r. m. gaskill was born in madison county, illinois, in ; graduated from mckendrie college in ; graduated from the medical department of the missouri state university in ; practiced medicine a short time at centralia, illinois, and came to marine in , where he practiced medicine and interested himself in milling, lumbering and merchandise. he represented his district in the house of the first legislature of minnesota, - , and of the fourteenth and fifteenth, - . he served during the rebellion as surgeon of the forty-fifth illinois volunteers. he was for many years a trustee of the minnesota state prison. in he was married to clara e. hughes. they have one son and one daughter. newport. the town of newport includes fractional townships and , range , and part of sections , and , in township , range : it was organized as a town oct. , . the first supervisors were william fowler, e. b. schofield and john willoughby. the surface is mostly prairie. this town has some points of great historic interest. gray cloud island, in the southern part, in the mississippi river, separated from the mainland by a slough, is the place where, according to some historians, le sueur planted a french fort in . it was styled the "isle pelee," and was described as a beautiful "prairie island." the description of the island tallies precisely with that of gray cloud, and is applicable to none of the other conjectured localities. it is mentioned by many antiquarian writers as a place of rendezvous for french traders during the french domination in this part of the continent. gray cloud has been known as a trading post for the last hundred years, and has the credit of being the first white settlement in washington county, and probably in minnesota. here came joseph r. brown in , and here he married the daughter of dickson, the trader. hazen mooers, one of the commissioners of st. croix county in , joseph boucher and others were living at gray cloud when the methodist mission was established at kaposia in . gray cloud is the translation of the indian name of the island. it was also borne by an indian maiden, who became the wife of hazen mooers, who seems to have been a man of excellent repute and considerable influence. the browns cherished for him a very warm feeling of regard. red rock, another historic locality, derives its name from a painted rock which seems to have been held in great reverence by the sioux indians. according to rev. chauncey hobart, a veteran pioneer and preacher still living in minnesota, it was the custom among the sioux to worship the boulders that lie scattered along the hills and valleys. when a dakotah was in danger, it was his custom to clear a spot from grass and brush, roll a boulder upon it, paint it, deck it with feathers and flowers, and pray to it for needed help. the peculiarity of the painted boulder from which red rock took its name is that it was a shrine, to which from generation to generation pilgrimages were made, and offerings and sacrifices presented. its indian name was "eyah shah," or "red rock." the stone is not naturally red, but painted with vermillion, or, as some say, with the blood of slaughtered victims. the indians call the stone also "waukan," or "mystery." it lies on a weathered stratum of limestone, and seems to be a fragment from some distant granite ledge. the dakotahs say it walked or rolled to its present position, and they point to the path over which it traveled. they visited it occasionally every year until , each time painting it and bringing offerings. it is painted in stripes, twelve in number, two inches wide and from two to six inches apart. the north end has a rudely drawn picture of the sun, and a rude face with fifteen rays. red rock is noted as the site of a mission planted here in by the methodist episcopal church, by alfred brunson, a distinguished pioneer preacher and missionary. the mission was originally established at kaposia, on the western bank of the river, in , but removed by alfred brunson in the same year to red rock. rev. b. t. kavanaugh, of this mission, and afterward a bishop of the methodist episcopal church south, superintended the erection of the first buildings. taylor f. randolph and wife were teachers here, as assistants in the indian school, and also in a school of mixed bloods and whites. b. t. kavanaugh was postmaster in . john holton was mission farmer in , under a commission from maj. taliaferro, of fort snelling. the mission was discontinued in . mr. randolph and wife made them a home in the town of afton, where both died in . the first marriage was that of john a. ford to mary holton, daughter of john holton, in . the first birth was that of franklin c. ford, september, . the first death was that of a child of rev. b. t. kavanaugh. the village of newport was platted in . w. r. brown's addition was platted in . a steam saw mill was built in by e. m. shelton & brothers. the mill was destroyed by fire in . a flour mill was built in its place by joseph irish. the first baptist church was organized jan. , . the first commodious house of worship was built in . the red rock camp meeting association was organized in . a plat of ten acres, beautifully situated in a natural grove near the village, and on the line of the chicago, milwaukee & st. paul railroad, was donated to the association by john holton. these grounds have been improved, and adorned with tasteful cottages. the camp meetings held during the summer are largely attended. gray cloud city was platted in june, , by j. r. brown and truman w. smith, and surveyed by j. donald mccullom. newport village was platted may , , by joseph h. huganin, r. c. knox, wm. and james fowler, and surveyed by b. densmore. john holton came to red rock in , with the methodist missionaries; served some years as indian farmer under maj. taliaferro, indian agent, and afterward settled on a farm just above the mission ground. he donated ten acres of this farm to the methodists for camp meeting grounds. mr. holton died in , leaving two children, mrs. ford and mrs. winters. john a. ford was born in utica, new york, in . he learned the trade of edge tool and rifle making, and in came west with his father, locating a land claim where chicago now stands. in the son came to red rock and erected a store building in which he sold goods for twelve years. subsequently he engaged in farming. with the exception of the traders mr. ford was the first merchant in washington county. mr. ford was a representative in the second territorial legislature. he was married to may holton in . their children are franklin and willis. franklin, the eldest son, was married to addie witherspoon in , and resides in newport. daniel hopkins, a native of new hampshire, came west at an early age. he was a gunsmith by trade. he located in green bay in , and removed to prairie du chien in , where he built a stone shop with a large double window over his workbench and overlooking a spot where he kept his money buried. a large mullein growing over it sufficiently indicated that his treasure was still undisturbed. growing somewhat doubtful of the security of his hoard, he removed and placed a thousand dollars in a stone quarry as a safer place of deposit. unexpectedly to him, the quarry was reopened and a well placed blast scattered the old gentleman's treasure to the four winds. he recovered but a portion of it. in he left prairie du chien and came to red rock. he was three years associated with john a. ford in selling goods, after which, in , he removed to st. paul, where he opened a store. he died in , aged sixty-five years. william r. brown was born in urbana, ohio, in . he spent his boyhood at home on a farm and served as an apprentice to a carpenter in mt. carmel, illinois. in april, , he came to red rock mission in company with rev. b. t. kavanaugh, charles cavalier and julia bosnell. he lived upon a farm until , when he sold out and removed to st. paul, where he dealt in real estate. during the rebellion he served three years in company c, sixth minnesota volunteers. he was married in to martha neuman. he died nov. , . william fowler settled in newport in and has become a prominent farmer and successful stockman. his farm, which originally cost him $ , , he sold in for $ , . he was for two years president of the minnesota agricultural society, and five years of the dairymen's association. he was a member of the house of representatives in . during the war he served as lieutenant in the eighth minnesota volunteers. oakdale. oakdale includes township , range . originally it was covered with white, black and burr oak timber; the surface is rolling, and the soil well adapted to the cultivation of wheat. it is well watered and has numerous lakes, among which lake elmo is favorably known as a summer resort. oakdale was organized as a town november, . the first supervisors were e. c. gray, john bershen and e. l. morse. the clerk was w. armstrong. the first settler was b. b. cyphers, who kept a hotel or stopping place on sun fish lake in . the year following john morgan built a more commodious house a mile and a half west on the stage road, and this was afterward known as the "half-way house," it being nearly midway between st. paul and stillwater. at this well known station the pioneer stages of willoughby & powers changed horses at noon, and the passengers took dinner. in the property passed into the hands of e. c. gray. the malones, lohmans, grays, day, stevens, and gardiner located here in the ' s. the first post office established was in , in the south part of the town, in section . arthur stephens was for ten years postmaster. the office was called oakdale, and was discontinued and another established at the half-way house, and called lohmanville post office. in it was transferred to the oakdale station on the railroad. it was discontinued in , and re-established at bass lake station, where it has since remained but is now known as the lake elmo post office. the st. paul & stillwater railroad passes through this town from east to west. it has three stations, lake elmo, oakdale and midvale. the churches of oakdale are the st. john's lutheran and the church of the holy angels. these churches have fine buildings and good congregations. the buildings are located on the line of the old stage road, and have spacious burial grounds attached. lake elmo is the only village in the town. it is handsomely located on lake elmo. the company that platted the village has expended over $ , on improvements. the hotel is an elegant and spacious building, and a favorite resort for summer tourists. the lake was originally known as bass lake, and the station was known as bass lake station. in the lake and station were rechristened elmo, a name certainly more musical and charming than the original, and inferior only to the aboriginal name, which ought to have been retained. e. c. gray came originally from pennsylvania, and located in oakdale in , having purchased the half-way house of john morgan. he died in , leaving a large family of children. two of his sons, m. p. and w. h., remain on the family homestead. others are in st. paul. all are known as men of good business ability. arthur stephens was born in scotland in . he came to america in , lived awhile in illinois, learned the trade of a mason and plasterer, came to st. paul in , worked at his trade until , when he removed to oakdale, where, with the exception of six years' residence at stillwater, he has since lived. mr. stephens served as postmaster ten years, as county commissioner three years, and has filled town offices. he was married to marie payden in . their children are harris s., arthur, elizabeth and emma. oneka. the town comprises township , range . it was organized as a town in . a. j. soule was the first moderator, george walker the first clerk and treasurer. the eastern and southern portions are diversified, being quite rugged and uneven. the western part is quite level, and was originally timbered with burr oak and poplars. the town abounds with lakes. bald eagle lies partly in the town; oneka; rice, egg, eagle, horseshoe, and others are within the town. small springs and rivulets abound. a tamarack swamp, varying in width from a few rods to a half mile, traverses the town from north to south, forming a natural barrier between the eastern and western divisions. the principal lake is oneka, located in sections and . rice lake has been celebrated as the resort of indians from mendota, who camped here annually to gather wild rice for the st. paul and minneapolis markets. the first settlers were fayette tainter and john chester, young men who came together in for the purpose of locating claims and baling hay. they carried on a stock farm for five years. the next settlers, lewis sempler and his son-in-law, joseph freeman, came in . they were followed by dunn, barnum, hatch and beecroft. the st. paul & duluth railroad passes through the western part of the town, entering in section , and leaving in section . there is but one station upon the road, centreville, a thriving little village, having a hotel, store, school house, etc. its post office was established in . the first school district was organized in . ruth miller taught the first school. the first marriage was that of joseph lambert and mary courtone. the first child born was hoyt e., son of o. l. kinyon, dec. , . the first death was that of herbert, son of o. l. kinyon, may , . oneka, located in the northeast quarter of section , was platted may, , by franklin jones; chas. b. lowell, surveyor. shady side village, located on bald eagle lake, was platted in , by chas. p. hill; brinckerhoff & phillips, surveyors. daniel hopkins, sr., son of daniel hopkins, of whom biographical mention is made in the history of newport, was born in new hampshire. he came to st. paul in , and engaged in the mercantile business on third street until , when he removed to a farm between st. anthony and st. paul, and dealt extensively in blooded stock until about - , when he purchased the farms of austin and tainter, on rice creek near the railroad. his farm consists of about acres. the railroad has a flag station at the farm known as hopkins station. stillwater. stillwater comprises fractional township , range , excepting the site of the city of stillwater. the surface is rolling and the soil good. it is well watered with rivulets and small lakes. the first settlers in the town outside the city limits were the lymans, consisting of the father (cornelius) and two sons, c. storrs and d. p., charles macy, w. t. boutwell, sebastian marty, wm. rutherford, j. j. mckenzie, albion masterman, and dr. james carey. the first white child born in the town was emily s., daughter of c. s. lyman, in . the first death was that of betsey, daughter of c. s. lyman, in . the first marriage was that of abraham click and jane sample, in . the first school was taught by cynthia pond, in . the first road through the town was from dakota village via carnelian lake and marine to st. croix falls. messrs. rutherford & booth in built a flour mill on brown's creek, which empties into the st. croix near the head of the lake. the mill was located above mckusick's lake, and has been for some years abandoned. brown's creek originally passed through sections , , and to the river, but was turned in from its natural course, and made to connect mckusick's lake with the st. croix by a new channel cut through sections and , thus giving to stillwater its initial advantages as a manufacturing centre. the washington county poor farm, consisting of acres of improved laud with good buildings and other conveniences, was located in this town in . oak park was platted may , . it is situated between the city of stillwater and south stillwater, with frontage on the lake. the proprietors were john parker, wm. dorr, gold t. curtis, mary curtis, olive a. b. anderson, and wm. m. mccluer. the surveyor was a. van voorhes. the township of stillwater was organized april , , with the following board of officers: moderator, cornelius lyman; judges of election, h. packard, w. t. boutwell, d. p. lyman; supervisors, c. storrs lyman, h. packard, henry a. jackman; clerk, sylvanus trask. david p. lyman was born in st. lawrence county, new york, in . in he came with his parents to marine. in he removed to his present residence in the town of stillwater. he was married to anna j. hannah, at farmingdale, illinois, in . they have five children. mr. lyman is an upright, reliable citizen, and a consistent member of the presbyterian church. henry a. jackman, a native of robbinstown, maine, was born july , . he was married to sarah blanchard in . mr. jackman, with his family, his father and his wife's parents, came west in and located in stillwater. in he removed to his farm. he has since engaged in farming and lumbering, and has filled several important positions. he served as school trustee for years, as county commissioner years, as warden of state prison years, as state prison inspector years, and was a representative in the territorial legislature of , and the state legislature of . mr. jackman's father, a native of brunswick, maine, died at his son's residence in stillwater, april, , aged seventy-four years. he was a man honored for his kindness and sterling integrity. his wife, the mother of henry a., died in maine in . three sons and four daughters survive them. the children of henry a. jackman are mary e. (mrs. russell pease), james e. and alice (mrs. wm. a. boxwell). frederic j. curtis, a native of ireland, was born in . before coming to america he learned the trade of boot and shoe making. he came to america in , and spent two years in new york city working at his trade. he also spent two years in st. louis and new orleans. he came to stillwater in and settled on his farm in section , where he has since lived. he held the office of sheriff two years. he was one of the first police of the city of stillwater and has been town treasurer and school director. he was married to bridget fenton in . their children are daniel, thomas, james, elisabeth, mary, maggie, and ellen b. david cover was born in westmoreland county, pennsylvania, may , . in he came with his parents to st. louis, missouri, where he became a river pilot, and engaged in lumbering for eight years, when he came to stillwater, and for some years gave his attention largely to selling logs and lumber between stillwater and st. louis. during the years between and his business transactions were heavy, involving hundreds of thousands of dollars annually, and from some injudicious movements, due to lack of experience, resulted in disastrous failure. after his failure he devoted himself to farming and fire insurance business. he was married in to elisabeth harrold. they are the parents of three sons. mr. cover was accidentally drowned in lake st. croix sept. , . his life was insured for $ , . john parker came from vermont to the valley of the st. croix in , located for a couple of years at st. croix falls, and came to oak park, town of stillwater, about . in mr. parker was married to susan, daughter of david cover, who bore him three children: edwin e., the oldest, killed by the explosion of the boilers of the steamer penn wright, near winona; john e., living at home with his mother, and ella, wife of henry pevey, of stillwater. mr. parker was a kind hearted, genial man. he was one of the early river pilots, and came to his death in june, , while in the performance of his duties as a pilot. in handling a line to "snub" a raft, he was caught in its coils and so bruised that he died. woodbury, as at present organized, includes township , range . at the date of its organization, in , it was named red rock, and made to include a little over two sections of fractional township , range . this fragment contains the famous painted rock, now included in the town of newport, and from this rock, familiarly called red rock, the town received its first name. the first board of town officers consisted of john colby; moderator; david little and c. schmeiding, judges of election; john colby, john a. ford, j. j. miller, supervisors; ebenezer ayers, clerk. the town held the name of red rock until , when, by notification from the legislature that another town bore the same name, the board changed the name to woodbury, a name given in honor of judge woodbury, of new hampshire, a particular friend of mr. colby, at that time chairman of the board. the fraction containing the painted rock was set off by order of the board of county commissioners, meeting at stillwater in , and added to newport. it is said that this act did not meet with the hearty approval of the citizens of the town. the town was originally timbered with various species of oak. the surface is undulating, and in the western part there are abrupt hills or bluffs. it is a fine agricultural town, well watered with creeks, springs and small lakes. the first settlers were the mchatties, middletons, robert cummings, john towner, and joseph cooper. the first marriage was that of john mchattie and jane middleton, jan. , . the first child born was sarah middleton, afterward the wife of anthony fritz, of newport. the first death was that of sarah middleton, may , . the first traveled road in the town was from stillwater to st. paul via bissell's mound. the first post office was established in , at oakdale, in the northern part of the town; g. hartoung, postmaster. the first school was taught in by miss a. f. colby. the german methodist church was organized in ; rev. jacob young, pastor. the church and parsonage are built of stone. the salem evangelical lutheran church was organized in ; rev. j. w. huffman, pastor. jacob folstrom.--the history of jacob folstrom reads like a romance. he was born in sweden june , , and when he was nine years of age left home as cabin boy on a steamer commanded by his uncle. the steamer was wrecked on the coast of england. he escaped with his uncle to london, and there lost sight of him. what was his uncle's fate he never knew. he understood nothing of the english language, and applied to the swedish consul for aid. lord selkirk was then raising a company of men to go to his settlement on red river, british america, and selkirk, who could speak swedish, spoke kindly to the friendless lad, and offered to take him with him to the new world. he, not knowing what else to do, consented to go. after his arrival he found employment with the hudson bay company for a time, and subsequently came down to the fort snelling reservation. when the settlers were driven from the reservation in ; he made a farm in what is now woodbury, washington county. at lake superior, in , he had been married to margaret burgo, a woman of fine mind. with her limited educational privileges, very few of any age or race can be found her equal. mr. and mrs. folstrom were both consistent christians, and members of the methodist church for many years. he lived a stirring, adventurous life, and, during his service as mail carrier between prairie du chien and fort snelling, he had many hairbreadth escapes from hostile indians. he died in july, . his wife survived him till feb. , . alexander mchattie.--at the age of sixteen mr. mchattie left his home and worked as a teamster and farmer for about five years; and in came from scotland, his native country, to america. he lived a couple of years in vermont, a short time in new york, ohio and indiana. in he came to galena, illinois, and migrated thence in the same year to st. croix falls. he also made a short stay at gray cloud island; was in prescott in ; in made a home in afton, and in at woodbury. he married margaret middleton in . john mchattie.--john, the oldest brother of alexander mchattie, came from scotland to this country in , and settled in woodbury in . he was married in to jane middleton. the middleton family.--james middleton, sr., with his wife, three sons, william, samuel, and james, and five daughters, came to this country from ireland. william, the oldest, inspired by filial duty, came first, it being his ambition to secure for his parents a home on american soil. he was not of age when, in , he left ireland, full of hope and enthusiasm for his project. he found his way to st. louis in , and came thence with hungerford & livingston to st. croix falls. he remained with them two years and then, removing further south, made a claim on unsurveyed government land in what is now the town of woodbury. during the succeeding year, , he and his brother samuel worked for john mckusick, and by diligence and self denial succeeded in earning enough to pay the passage of his father and his family to the united states, and to bring them to their claim on the prairie. it was a joyful day when the parents arrived, and since then the united family have their home at and near the selected homestead, a model family in their unity of purpose and affectionate regard for each other. william visited california. he died at his home in . samuel enlisted and did gallant service in the union army during the late civil war as a member of company e, tenth minnesota volunteers, and died in the hospital at memphis, feb. , . james, a younger brother, was born in . he made a claim near that of his brother, and is prominent in the community, in which he lives. he was sergeant-at-arms in the legislature, a member of the house in , and served five years in washington county as county commissioner. mr. middleton removed to st. paul in , where he now resides. the father died in , the mother in . newington gilbert was born in onondaga county, new york, feb. , . mr. gilbert settled in woodbury in . in company with mr. buswell he built the north star flouring mill in . he operated this mill eleven years. mr. gilbert was a member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention in . he was married to celestia bangs in . they have two children. ebenezer ayers was born in herkimer county, new york. his early life was devoted to hard labor, still such was his zeal for study and the acquisition of general knowledge, that he managed to acquire a very respectable and thorough education. in he came with his parents to fort wayne. he commenced teaching school soon after and taught eight years. in he removed to shelby county, kentucky. he was married in to lucy connelly, of shelby county. he removed to buffalo, new york, in , and sold goods until the spring of , when he located in woodbury and engaged in farming. he was a man of energy, and possessed of great will power. he took a deep interest in town and county affairs, and served as town clerk in woodbury eleven years. he was a representative in the minnesota state legislature in and , and while in that capacity proved himself a ready debater. he had natural ability as an organizer. he was an active member of the greenback party, and was rigidly opposed to monopolies. he died in . chapter xv. washington county--continued. city of stillwater. the organization of the territory of minnesota in naturally gave a new impetus to settlement, and marked an era in the progress of the settlements already made. none profited more by the new order of things than did stillwater. the future metropolis of the st. croix valley, though yet unorganized even as a village, and governed by town and county law, in presented a scene of unwonted activity. out of nearly a hundred arrivals we find the names of john c, gardiner, samuel m. register, h. c. van voorhees, john n. ahl, ralph wheeler, dr. e. g. pugsley, dr. morey, dentist, and theodore e. parker, a lawyer. this year was rendered notable by the establishment of a livery stable, by holcomb & johnson, a new store by burkelo & mower, a bakery by r. hersey, by the building of the second saw mill by sawyer & heaton, by the commencement of remmick's brewery, by the advent of antonio brothers' circus, and the occurrence of a remarkable freshet, on which occasion the steamer lamartine, taking advantage of the high water, made a pleasure excursion up the river, and over the shallows at the mouth of apple river and a short distance up that stream. morton wilkinson and michael ames were amongst the excursionists, and, looking out from the steamboat upon the broad, deep expanse of the swollen river, congratulated their fellow passengers upon the discovery of a hitherto unknown navigable stream, tributary to the majestic st. croix. the swiss bell ringers were on board, and added greatly to the pleasure of the occasion by their weird and peculiar music. the lamartine, on returning to stillwater, found the shores and levees submerged, and passing over them landed her passengers directly from the boat upon the floor of the minnesota house, on the southwest corner of chestnut and main. the water was four or five feet deep in the street before the hotel. the streets in the lower part of the city have since been raised several feet, so that a flood of the same dimensions would not overflow them as it did then. there has, however, in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, been no other flood equal to that of . allusion has been made in the history of stillwater town to the diversion of the waters of mckusick's lake by a new outlet to the river. this device, so beneficial to the city of stillwater in other respects, came near resulting in disaster. the old outlet of the lake had been obstructed by a dam, while the waters were conducted by a new outlet down a deep ravine and confined to their channel by dikes consisting of a mixture of clay, sand and gravel. this extended to within six hundred feet of the mill on the lake shore. on may , , during a terrible storm, the dam at the new outlet gave way and a tremendous body of water, carrying with it the debris of dikes and dams, rushed tumultuously down the ravine, covering the low shores of the lake beneath, and depositing a new geological stratum of drift over a surface of at least six acres to an average depth of about ten feet. it was wittily said at the time that such an extraordinary movement in real estate had never before been known; but, although a downward movement, that seemed very much like ruin to all concerned, especially to the mill, the machinery of which was completely buried, it nevertheless heralded a rise in prices. quagmires were filled, unsightly obstructions buried or swept away and a fine plateau for buildings was formed along the lake. the dam was replaced and greatly strengthened, and the water was conducted through pipes and hydrants to the city. occasionally, for years afterward, the diggers of cellars or cisterns in the buried region would unearth interesting antediluvian relics. three barrels of pork were exhumed from the cellar of mckusick's store, and found in a good state of preservation. some years later remains of a far more ancient character were also unearthed near the corner of third and myrtle streets. the tusk of a mastodon was brought up from a depth of thirty-six feet below the surface. city government. stillwater was incorporated as a city in . the following officers were elected on the first monday in april of that year: mayor, john mckusiek; recorder, c. d. gilfillan; treasurer, w. h. mower; councilmen, j. c. york, j. n. masterman, c. carli. we append a list of mayors from to the present time: john mckusick, ; john fisher, ; wm. willim, - - ; albert stinson, ; a. b. gorgas, ; t. m. fullerton, ; mahlon black, - ; f. r. delano, ; david bronson, - ; wm. grover, ; c. j. butler, ; wm. holcombe, - ; wm. mckusick, - ; a. k. doe, ; wm. g. bronson, - - ; e. w. durant, ; john s. proctor, - - ; samuel mathews, - - - ; hollis r. murdock, ; isaac staples, ; george m. seymour, - . city marshals. the following is a complete list of city marshals since : jonathan e. mckusick, ; john parker, ; john cilly, ; dennis sullivan, ; robert hasty, ; thomas sinclair, ; duncan chisholm, - - - ; john shortall, - ; john may, , six months; p. e. keefe, ; john may, , six months; john shortall, ; h. mcintyre, ; duncan chisholm, ; john lyons, - , eighteen months; mathew shortall, , and continuously to the present time. mr. shortall's long term of office proves him an effective and popular officer. f. l. mckusick is police court officer. he is a veteran of the police force and has acquitted himself to the satisfaction of the people of stillwater. the post office, established in , was located first at the corner of main and chestnut streets. the first postmaster was elam greely. his successors were john mckusick, john s. proctor, harley d. curtis, mahlon black, abraham van voorhes, h. d. cutler, e. j. butts, and ---- mccarthy. during a citizens' mail was brought from point douglas. its regularity depended somewhat on the season. during the winter it was brought some times as infrequently as once a month. in a government line was established from point douglas, and the mail was brought with greater regularity. in a mail coach line was established between stillwater and st. paul. the year following a weekly mail was established. the rapid increase of settlements on the upper mississippi created a demand for more frequent mails; consequently from to the completion of the railroad leading into stillwater, a daily mail was brought into stillwater during the summer by steamboats, and by the wisconsin overland route during the winter. rapid growth. as an evidence of the growth of the city we append post office statistics of salaries, expenses and income for the year : receipts. sales of postage stamps, envelopes, newspaper wrappers, postal cards, etc. $ , box rent received , ----------- total $ , expenses. postmaster's salary $ , expenses for rent, fuel, lights, clerk hire, etc. , $ , ---------- net income $ , money order business. received for domestic orders $ , received for fees on same received for international orders , received for fees on same ---------- $ , money orders paid $ , certificates of deposit , $ , registry business. domestic and foreign letters and packages registered , registered matter in transit , ----- total pieces handled , number of pouches dispatched daily number of pouches dispatched semi-weekly number of pouches received daily number of pouches received semi-weekly hotels. the following hotels were built in stillwater prior to : northrup house, built by anson northrup, northwest corner main street and nelson alley, . stillwater house, built by anson northrup, lot , main street, . minnesota house, built by elam greeley, southwest corner main and myrtle, . lake house, built by john w. brewster, east side of main street between nelson and chestnut, . of the hotels built subsequently to , the most popular and well known is the sawyer house, on the northwest corner of chestnut and third streets. it was built in , by henry sawyer, opened by g. e. b. whitcher, and kept in succession by j. and a. lowell, isaac staples, a. lowell and a. k. doe. the other hotels built during this period were the liberty house, by john n. ahl, ; farmers home, ; williams house, ; wexio hotel, ; the keystone house, ; the mansion house, ; central house, ; elliott's hotel, . city banks. to christopher carli is due the honor of conducting the first banking operations in stillwater. in he issued and redeemed fractional currency. darling, caswell & scheffer, jan. , , opened a private banking house, and from to operated it as a state bank, when it was changed into the first national bank of stillwater. the capital stock was $ , . the first officers were: charles scheffer, president; o. r. ellis, cashier. the officers in were: louis hospes, president; c. n. nelson, vice president; f. m. prince, cashier. the capital stock is $ , . the gross amount of debits and credits during the year closing june , , were $ , , . we append the annual report of : resources. loans and discounts $ , overdrafts , united states bonds to secure circulation , due from approved reserve agents $ , due from other national banks , due from state banks and bankers , , real estate, furniture and fixtures , current expenses and taxes paid , premiums paid , checks and other cash items , bills of other banks , fractional paper currency, nickels and pennies specie , legal tender notes , , redemption fund with united states treasurer (five per cent of circulation) , ----------- total $ , liabilities. capital stock paid in $ , surplus fund , undivided profits , national bank notes outstanding , dividends unpaid individual deposits subject to check $ , demand certificates of deposit , time certificates of deposit , cashier's checks outstanding due to other national banks , due to state banks and bankers , , notes and bills rediscounted , ---------- total $ , lumberman's national bank, organized jan. , . capital stock, $ , . first officers: isaac staples, president; h. w. cannon, cashier. in the bank had in capital stock $ , and a surplus of $ , . the present officers are: president, isaac staples; vice president, r. f. hersey; board of directors, isaac staples, r. f. hersey, e. s. edgerton, david tozer, e. w. durant, david bronson, j. mckusick, matt clark, wm. g. bronson, e. l. hersey, r. s. davis. stillwater savings bank, organized jan. , , under an act of the legislature of , with the following board of trustees: isaac staples, president; david bronson, dwight m. sabin, lewis e. torinus, wm. willim, i. e. staples, and h. w. cannon. st. croix lumbermen's board of trade was incorporated march , . the first officers were: president, david cover; vice president, louis hospes; secretary, e. w. durant; treasurer, david bronson, jr.; surveyor, ivory e. mckusick. stillwater board of trade. the board was organized in january, . the first officers were: president, david bronson; vice president, c. j. butler; secretary, d. w. armstrong; treasurer, c. n. nelson; board of directors, john mckusick, isaac staples, j. e. schlenk, j. o'shaughnessy, m. moffatt, e. w. durant, j. n. castle, b. g. merry, g. m. seymour, l. e. torinus. stillwater water company. the site of the city abounds in beautiful springs. charles hathaway, while excavating on his lot near third street, struck a large vein capable of supplying , barrels per day. he constructed a reservoir with an elevation of about fifty feet above the street, and from this source supplies the city with water for sprinkling streets and other purposes. the stillwater water company was organized april , , with a capital stock of $ , , and commenced at once the work of improvement. this company has never yet declared a dividend, having applied all its surplus earnings upon improvements. they have now / miles of water mains, hydrants and about taps. the water supply is obtained from lake mckusick, which is supplied from brown's creek. the lake is feet above the business portion of the city and is about a mile distant from the same. the water is pumped into a reservoir on the highest spot of ground in the city, which is feet above the lake. the system is similar to that of st. paul, the city being supplied in part by gravitation, and in part by direct pressure. the elevation of the reservoir results in a saving to the city in the matter of fire engines, etc. any fire in the business part of the city can be extinguished with the use of hose alone. one fire engine answers the purposes of the city. the first board of officers were: president, edward durant; vice president, r. f. hersey; secretary and treasurer, h. w. cannon. fire department. futile efforts had been made as early as for the organization of a fire department. in a fire company of sixty was organized and an engine worth $ , was purchased. the first officers of the company were: chief engineer, david bronson; first assistant, b. g. merry; second assistant, h. p. west; engineer, c. c. johnson; secretary; n. t. lee; treasurer, fayette marsh. the st. croix hook and ladder company was organized in , by the election of the following officers: foreman, charles mcmillan; assistant, d. b. loomis; secretary and treasurer, a. k. doe. the company has received awards of honor for meritorious performance of duty. stillwater gaslight company. this company was organized may , , with a capital stock of $ , and the exclusive right to the sale and manufacture of gas for a period of forty years. their buildings are located on third street. the first officers were: president, isaac staples; manager, h. w. cannon; board of directors, john mckusick, d. m. sabin, isaac staples, david bronson, l. e. torinus, h. w. cannon, c. h. nash. telegraph office. in a telegraph office was located in stillwater by a a. c. lull, and a line extended to st. paul. the office is on main street between chestnut and myrtle. the national bell telephone company established a line from stillwater to st. paul in january, . it has a branch to marine. union elevator company built an elevator near the stillwater & white bear depot in - . it has a capacity of , bushels. the officers are: president, louis huspes; secretary and treasurer, h. w. cannon. express companies. the first office was established by the northwestern express company, in ; short, proctor & co. were agents. this company was succeeded in by the american, and in the united states also established an office here. the stillwater bridge. a charter was obtained from the legislature in to build a bridge across lake st. croix, from stillwater to houlton. the bridge was completed the ensuing year at a cost of $ , . it is , feet long, and is furnished with a pontoon draw feet in length, operated by an engine. lumbering interests. stillwater is the metropolis of the lumbering interests of the st. croix valley, and is indebted to them chiefly for its welfare. these are considered separately in other parts of this history. the local interests are centred chiefly in mills and manufactories, of themselves an important element in the prosperity of the city. the principal proprietors of the saw mills since the first settlement of stillwater have been mckusick & co., sawyer & heaton, mchale. & co., schulenberg & co., hersey, staples & co., hersey, bean & brown, isaac staples, seymour, sabin & co., herschey lumbering company and turnbull lumbering company. flouring mills. in j. h. townshend and w. f. cahill erected a flouring mill on third street. it was run by water brought from mckusick creek, the motive power being an overshot wheel forty-five feet in diameter. in d. m. sabin became interested in the firm. the capacity of the mill was increased from fifty to three hundred barrels per day. a corliss engine and other improvements were added, and the mill was run on the hungarian roller system. the firm name was changed to townshend & co. the st. croix flouring mill was built in , on upper main street, near the lake, by isaac staples. its dimensions were × feet. its capacity was two hundred and fifty barrels per day. it was removed to make way for the buildings of the car company. the stillwater flour mill company was organized under state laws in , and mills were erected on the lower levee, × feet, ground plan, and five stories high. these mills were run on the hungarian roller system. the cost was $ , . their capacity is four hundred barrels per day. the motive power is a corliss engine of one hundred and seventy-five horse power. the principal owners are r. f. hersey, smith ellison, d. m. sabin and l. hospes. manufactories. swain's machine shop, d. m. swain, proprietor, was established in , on third street between myrtle and chestnut. geo. swain established a foundry on third street in . his manufactures consist chiefly of engines, mill machinery and farm utensils. the st. croix iron works, door, sash and blind factory, established originally as a machine shop in , on the river bank, near the chicago & omaha round house, has been owned by various parties. a foundry was added in , and in isaac staples added a sash and blind factory. carriage manufactories. richard daw established the novelty carriage works in , one door east of the sawyer house. d. j. sullivan established the stillwater carriage works in , one door east of the sawyer house, but afterward removed to a better location on second street. wm. miller erected the pioneer carriage manufactory in , on main street. albert saeker in established a wagon shop on second street between myrtle and chestnut. frederick steinacker commenced the manufacture of brick in , in a yard located in ramsey & carter's addition, but afterward removed to the lower end of sunfish lake. it is claimed that herman tepass' brewery is the outgrowth of the first in the county, if not in the state, a still having been located at the corner of third and chestnut streets in . the present site is on lower main street. joseph wolff's brewery is located on the corner of main and nelson streets, and was established in . heitman & becker established a bakery in . messrs. muller brothers established a boat factory in . a vinegar factory was commenced by ciopac & tuor in , and is continued by the latter. of the several livery stables in stillwater the first was established by c. a. bromley in . the stillwater building association, organized under the laws of the state, march , , has done much for the prosperity of the city, affording as it does to persons of limited capital an opportunity of building suitable homes and business houses. private enterprise has done much in the erection of substantial blocks for business purposes. henry sawyer, in , built the first stone block in the city. it is located on main street. other fine blocks were built by mccomb, eldridge, bernheimer, elam greely, wm. holcombe, schlenk, l. e. torinus, hersey & staples, mckusick, and others. many of these blocks are fireproof and built of stone, and are fine specimens of architecture, convenient and commodious. church societies and buildings. stillwater has sixteen church organizations and fifteen buildings, the latter having a total valuation of $ , . the ascension church (episcopal) originated in the labors of rev. e. a. greenleaf, in . the corner stone of the first building was laid in . rev. joseph a. russell was the first rector. in the corner stone of the present edifice was laid by bishop welles of wisconsin. this building cost $ , , and was burned in and rebuilt in . the first presbyterian church grew out of the missionary labors of rev. w. t. boutwell, in and . the church was organized in ; rev. j. s. whitney, pastor. the first building was erected in , and the second, the armory, in . the present edifice, located on the corner of myrtle and third, was built in , at a cost of $ , , and the total value of building and ground is $ , . the methodist episcopal church dates its beginning from a society formed by rev. james harrington in . it was organized regularly in by rev. t. m. fullerton. the first house of worship was a small frame on myrtle street, between second and third streets. it was enlarged and improved in . the present edifice on third street near myrtle, with the parsonage adjoining, cost about $ , . the church has a membership of two hundred. st. michael's (catholic) church was organized in , the first services being held by rev. father peyragrosse, a missionary. the first edifice was built on fourth and mulberry streets, and rev. father fisher was the first clergyman in charge. the building was enlarged and improved in . the present commodious edifice was commenced in and dedicated in . the church property, including the school parish buildings and cemetery of twelve acres in south stillwater, is worth $ , . there are now two resident clergymen, revs. murphy and gaughan. st. mary's (catholic) church, rev. p. alphonse krusle, pastor, was organized in , and owns a church building on fifth street, near pine, valued at $ , . the total value of church and parish buildings, and of the six lots on which they are located, amounts to $ , . the universalist church society was incorporated june , , and the first preaching was by rev. e. a. hodsdon, of st. anthony. the edifice is on third street south; cost about $ , . swedish lutheran. the society was organized in ; the church building was erected in - , at a cost of $ , . the pastor is rev. a. f. tornell. the first german lutheran church was organized in . the church building and parsonage are on third street, near olive, and are valued at $ , . the pastor is rev. j. j. weiss. the norwegian lutheran society uses the german lutheran church buildings, corner of olive and fourth streets. the german methodist congregation worships in a frame building, corner of linden and everett streets. the salem german lutheran church was formed by the withdrawal of a part of the members of the first german lutheran church for separate worship. the swedish church and school, on the corner of olive and fourth streets, were purchased for $ , . to this a parsonage was added at a cost of $ , . rev. l. f. frey is the pastor. the danish lutheran church has a cosy frame edifice on laurel, between williams and owen, but is not holding services at present. the edifice cost $ , and the membership is one hundred and fifty. swedish congregational. the swedish congregational church occupies a frame building on fourth street, between hickory and elm streets, which cost $ , and has sixty members. the st. joseph's (catholic) church was organized by the present pastor, rev. father e. roe, in , with seventeen members, which has since been increased to eighty families. a frame edifice was erected in , with a seating capacity of four hundred, costing about $ , , corner of olive and greely streets. the church property consists of the edifice and the priest's house, and cost $ , . the swedish methodist church was organized in by rev. c. s. carlander. the church building is located on myrtle and fourth streets, and cost $ , . the young men's christian association has a membership of seventy-five and a frame building erected in at a cost of $ , . public buildings. the court house and other public buildings of the city are creditable specimens of architecture, rooms convenient and well adapted to the purposes of their construction. the present court house building is the third erected. its cost, including that of the jail buildings, the wall around them and other improvements, has been something over $ , . the city hall, at the corner of myrtle and third streets, is a substantial and convenient building. it contains also room for the city officers. the public school buildings have kept pace with the growth of the city. in the summer of the city erected a high school building at a cost of $ , . the engine house is a good building, centrally located. an elegant union depot was built in , of brown stone from the apostle islands, at a cost of $ , . the opera house.--the opera house occupies the site of the old lake house, on main street between nelson and chestnut streets. it was commenced in and finished in , under the supervision of l. w. eldred, architect. its size is × feet, ground plan, and four stories in height, or seventy-one feet from lower floor to cornice. the style of architecture is a blending of the queen anne, victoria and gothic. the entrance to the upper part of the building is by a stairway twelve feet wide, in a lofty, ornamental turret. the auditorium is × feet, and beautifully and elaborately finished and furnished, and is capable of seating over , persons. it is well lighted, being supplied with gas jets, warmed by steam, and well ventilated. the stage is × feet, complete in all its appointments, and supplied with all the necessary stage scenery, wings, border bridge, balcony, interior and other decorations. the ceiling of the auditorium is superbly frescoed and the cornice is adorned with medallions of shakespeare, haydn, schiller, goethe, dickens, handel, scott, longfellow, mozart, tennyson, and beethoven. the parts of the building not occupied for stage purposes are appropriated to halls, offices and stores. societies and associations. i. o. o. f.--lodge no. , organized june, ; stillwater lodge, no. , organized january, . masonic.--st. john's lodge no. , organized ; washington, royal arch chapter, no. , organized march, ; bayard commandery, k. t., no. , organized march, . knights of pythias.--stillwater lodge, no. , organized november, . a. o. u. w.--st. croix lodge, no. , organized july, . sons of herman.--stillwater lodge, no. , organized january, ; concordia lodge, no. , organized january, . temperance societies.--i. o. g. t. lodge of stillwater, organized in ; l'etoile du nord lodge, no. , organized may, ; temple of honor, no. , organized september, ; father matthew temperance society, organized november, . miscellaneous.--st. ann's society, organized november, ; st. vincent de paul conference, organized october, ; st. joseph benevolent society, organized november, ; y. m. c. a., organized in ; washington county bible society, organized in ; northwestern benefit society, no. , organized in ; subordinate union penn equitable association, no. , organized in ; stillwater city hospital, organized march, ; stillwater mannerchoir, organized in ; the stillwater turnverein, organized in ; g. a. r., stillwater post, no. , organized march, . cemeteries. the first burial ground was selected in . ten years later, by a survey of the city, these grounds were included in what is now known as block . these grounds were used until the organization of the fairview cemetery association in , when the bodies were removed to the new cemetery in the burial ground in south stillwater. fairview cemetery is beautifully located on undulating or hilly ground and is adorned with shrubbery and made attractive by the hand of art. its location is within the city limits, near the corner of orleans and fourth streets. washington county agricultural society. an attempt was made at organization in , but it proved premature. the present society was organized in february, , at cottage grove, and incorporated the same year. the first board of officers consisted of j. w. furber, president; j. s. norris, vice president; t. elwell, secretary, and james middleton, treasurer. in the fair grounds were established near stillwater, under the joint control of the agricultural society and the driving park association. in the fair grounds were established at lake elmo. but one fair had been held there when a cyclone struck the grounds and swept away all the improvements. the society again effected an arrangement by which their fairs were held on the grounds near stillwater. minnesota state prison. at the organization of minnesota territory congress appropriated $ , for a territorial prison. the legislature expended the money thus appropriated in building a prison at stillwater. the site was located by a commission appointed by the legislature in , consisting of john mckusick, e. a. c. hatch and lewis robert. the commission was also authorized to locate the territorial university and select a site in st. paul for the capitol. their task was not completed until the ensuing year. their selection of a location for the university and of a site for the capitol were satisfactory, but it was generally conceded that the site for the prison was badly chosen. the ground, nine acres, was mostly quagmire, and was, moreover, crowded in a ravine between high bluffs. however, it was convenient to the lake and steamboat landing, and was well watered with pure spring water. in jesse taylor, f. r. delano, martin mower, j. e. mckusick, and jacob fisher entered into contract with the commissioners, under the firm name of jesse taylor & co., to build one stone wing of the prison building, to be inclosed with a stone wall. the dimensions of the wing were × feet and three stories high. in an addition was built, and francis r. delano was appointed warden. until the expenditure of the public money used in building and other expenses was under the control of the warden. under state rule the warden was relieved of this burden of responsibility. the legislature had provided that prisoners might be received in the penitentiary not yet convicted of crime, on condition that their board should be defrayed by the counties from which they were sent. when this expense was not promptly met by the counties the prisoners thus held were set at liberty. the washington county grand jury investigated the matter and memorialized the ensuing legislature, which effected a change in the laws regarding such commitments. wings were added to the prison, walls were built, shops and other accessories added from year to year, and appropriations were made from time to time. in an appropriation of $ , was made for extending the building. outside companies were permitted to build shops and manufactories within the prison limits that they might avail themselves of convict labor. the following are the wardens who have served since the prison was built: territorial, f. r. delano; state government: francis o. j. smith, appointed march , ; henry n. setzer, aug. , ; john s. proctor, jan. , ; joshua l. taylor, feb. , ; a. c. webber, march , ; henry a. jackman, oct. , ; john a. reid, aug. , ; h. g. stordock, . the following table shows the number of convicts each year up to the present time: , mar. the prison on the whole has been well and humanely managed. there have been occasional outbreaks, easily suppressed, or cases of individual insubordination, two or three with fatal results to the insubordinates. the prison buildings have been several times visited by damaging and disastrous fires. the most serious were in . the first occurred january th, by which the large workshop and machinery owned by the state and the northwestern car company were destroyed. the second occurred january th, and destroyed the main prison buildings, including the cells, from which the prisoners were rescued with the greatest difficulty. one perished of suffocation. on this occasion guards, prison officials and some of the convicts displayed heroism worthy of the highest commendation. the convicts on the whole behaved well. mr. reid, the warden of the prison, behaved with great coolness and decision, and so averted what might have been a fearful disaster. fires. stillwater has suffered occasionally from fires. the first house burned was the mckusick boarding house, in . the northrup hotel was burned in . in a fire occurred on the west side of main street, between myrtle and chestnut, in which twelve buildings were burned, principally frame structures. in the lake house and four adjacent buildings were burned. the schulenburg mill was burned in . two great fires occurred in the penitentiary in . the episcopal church building and the mills of hersey & bean were burned in . numerous smaller fires occurred at intervals, but owing to the efficiency of the fire companies they were easily suppressed. bonds and indebtedness. up to the bonded indebtedness of the city has aggregated the sum of $ , . the bonds were issued at various times for railway and levee improvements, city bridge, city buildings, water works and current funds. the interest on these bonds has always been promptly met, and the expenditures for improvements have been more than repaid to the taxpayers by the increased valuation of property within the city limits. issac staples, son of rev. winslow staples, was born in topsham, maine, sept. , . at eighteen years of age he bought his time of his father for three hundred and sixty dollars. he found employment on the penobscot river at lumbering for two years, when he engaged in selling goods at old town, but soon after went into the lumbering business with s.f. hersey. in mr. staples was appointed agent for the penobscot indians living at old town, twelve miles above bangor, on the penobscot. in october, , mr. staples came to minnesota for the purpose of purchasing pine lands, and located at stillwater, moving his family here in . mr. staples represented a wealthy company, composed of himself, s. f. hersey and some massachusetts men, who furnished all the money needed to buy pine land or make any other investments deemed advisable. they, through the agency of mr. staples, purchased immense quantities of pine timber. they built a large saw mill in stillwater, and dealt in any and all branches of business considered remunerative. the advent of isaac staples in stillwater gave to the city new life. mr. staples was indefatigable in his labors, full of vigor and in prime health. his ambition was unlimited, his judgment good. backed up by a successful lumbering experience in maine, and with money sufficient to meet all necessary calls, he was financially progressive and prosperous. in after years messrs. staples & hersey purchased the entire interest of the firm of hersey, staples & co. subsequently the firm changed to hersey & staples and hersey, staples & bean, and finally a division of property was agreed upon. since the division mr. staples has been just as extensively engaged in the name of isaac staples in doing business as at any period in his past life. in mr. staples purchased the property of the cushing company, located at st. croix and taylor's falls, for $ , . this property has long been in litigation and consequently has been unimproved. the advent of mr. staples, as proprietor, opens a new era in the history of the two villages at the head of navigation on the st. croix. in addition to his lumbering and real estate interests, mr. staples has also engaged in farming and stock raising on an extensive scale. he owns one farm of six hundred and forty acres within the limits of stillwater. this farm is well stocked and supplied with stores, barns, shops and other buildings. it is used as a stork farm, and as a headquarters for supplying his lumbering camps. mr. staples has another farm located on the line of the minneapolis, soo & atlantic railway, eleven miles northwest of stillwater, known as the maple island farm, which contains , acres of land, inclosed and supplied with barns, farm houses and other buildings. there are fine wells and lakes and some well stocked fish ponds. he owns a flouring mill on this farm. mr. staples has a third farm at bronson, kanabec county, containing , acres of land, well under cultivation. ann river flows through this farm, and is supplied with a dam to facilitate the driving of logs into fish lake. the farm is also made a fitting-out place for the lumbering camps. these three farms are valued at $ , . mr. staples has lived an unusually busy life, and has been unusually successful. though past the ordinary limit of human life, he is still active, and will probably continue to plan and work as long as he lives. he is happiest when most busily employed. his mind is of the active type. he is restless, alert, far-seeing, systematic, and persistent. without these qualities he never could have achieved the success that has crowned his career. he has been twice married; first in , to miss caroline b. rogers, of old town, maine, by whom he had one child, who is still living. mrs. staples died in . he was again married, jan, , , to miss olivia j. pettengill, of old town, maine, by whom he has had eight children,--four sons and four daughters,--four of whom are living. samuel f. hersey, of the late firm of hersey, staples & co., was born in sumner, maine, in . at an early day he became a citizen of bangor, maine, and wisely invested in pine timber lands on the penobscot waters, when lands were cheap. their true value was not appreciated by many. the business interests of the county had not been developed and lumber dealing was not profitable. the increase in value on his investments made him a wealthy man. he was a banker, merchant and lumberman. his investments always yielded a rich return. his associates and townsmen often elected him to posts of honor and trust. in - - - and he was in the maine state legislature. when he died, feb. . , he was serving his second term (four years) as representative in congress, from the bangor or fourth district of maine. he died at his home in bangor. both houses of congress paid fitting tributes to his high business, social and christian standing, and his worth as a legislator and statesman. mr. hersey was not a citizen of minnesota, but as early as became a member of the firm of hersey, staples & co., of stillwater, and interested himself greatly in minnesota and stillwater enterprises. amongst other things he aided in building two railroads, and gave liberally for the erection of the universalist church and to its library. he was thrice married, and left a family of four sons, the children of his second wife. roscoe f. hersey, the oldest son, was born july , , in milford, maine; was educated at the graded school in bangor, and clerked in his father's store until , when he volunteered as a soldier in company a, eighteenth maine infantry. he was appointed second lieutenant and rose to the rank of captain in , but on may , , was severely wounded at the battle of spottsylvania court house, was confined in the hospital nine months, and discharged with the brevet rank of colonel. col. hersey spent two years in new orleans, engaged in the shipping and commission business, and in the spring of came to stillwater and thence to lake city, where he had charge of the lumber and mercantile business of hersey, staples & co. in that city for five years. in he returned to stillwater, entered the firm of hersey, brown & bean, dealers in lands, lumber and merchandise. in he was elected state senator and served one term. he has held many responsible positions. he married eva c. wardwell, of bangor, maine, jan. , . they have one son, clinton, an enterprising, public spirited man, inheriting much of his father's will power. dudley h. hersey, the second son, was born in bangor, dec. , . he was educated at westbrook seminary, maine, and came to stillwater at an early age in the employ of his father. in he became one of the firm of hersey, bean & brown. mr. hersey was married to estella wardwell, of bangor, maine, in . they have one son, samuel f. eugene m. hersey, the third son, was born in bangor, maine, may , . he was educated at the high school in bangor. with his brother he has been interested in milling and lumbering operations. he was married in . edward l. hersey, the youngest son, was born in bangor, maine, april , ; graduated at westbrook seminary in , and was married to mary l. merrill, of chicago, in . [illustration: jacob bean.] jacob bean was born in upper stillwater, maine, in . in that centre of the lumbering interests he early and easily took to lumbering, and pursued the business continuously until , when he came to stillwater, where he became an active member of the firm of hersey, staples & bean, and of hersey, bean & brown. charles bean was born in sandwich, new hampshire, in ; removed to orono, maine, in ; followed lumbering on the penobscot river for a few years. he came to stillwater in , and some years later sent for his aged parents, giving them a home until their death. in he became one of the firm of hersey, staples & bean, dealers in pine land. he is at present with his oldest son in california, where both are interested in real estate and irrigation enterprises. mr. bean has been twice married and has a family of eight children. the oldest daughter married jerry brown, now deceased. mr. bean moved to california in . rudolph lehmicke was born in prussia in . he learned the trade of cabinet and organ making; came to america in , and to stillwater in , working at his trade until . he served one year as justice of the peace, and having studied law was admitted to practice in . in the fall of he was elected county auditor and served until . he was elected judge of the probate court, in which position he continued until . he has served as inspector of the prison, superintendent of public schools, and member of the board of education. judge lehmicke was married in , in coldwater, michigan, to jane tackeberry. they have a family of five sons and two daughters. hollis r. murdock was born in governeur, new york, aug. , . he graduated at williams college, massachusetts, in , came to stillwater in , and was admitted to the practice of law in , since which time he has been in continuous practice. he has held many offices of trust. has been judge of the probate court and member of the legislature from washington county, and director of a bank and railroad company. mr. murdock was married to sarah a. rice, nov. , . george m. seymour was born in onondaga county, new york, march , . part of his early life he spent on a farm, but later he learned the carpenter's trade and became a builder and contractor. while in syracuse he engaged for some years in the manufacture of lumber and staves, and later, of salt. he was married to anna b. kingsley in . in he came to stillwater, and in was awarded the prison contract, and engaged in making cooperage. he was one of the founders of the firms of seymour, webster & co. and seymour, sabin & co. (the northwestern car company). he was sheriff of washington county for two years. frank a. seymour, only son of george m., was cashier of the first national bank of stillwater for four years, and subsequently cashier of the merchants bank, st. paul. marion o., only daughter of george m. seymour, graduated from mount holyoke seminary in . [illustration: louis hospes] louis hospes, for many years identified with the schulenberg-boeckeler lumber company, and father of a. c. hospes, surveyor general of logs and lumber, e. l. hospes of the schulenberg-boeckeler company, and otto g. hospes of the hardware firm of a. c. hospes & co., died april , . the deceased was born in the landgravate of hesse-cassel, germany, feb. , , and attended school in the city of witzenhausen until he was sixteen years old. he then became a farmer, which avocation he followed for four years. he then entered the university of gottingen, where he made a special study of the theory and practice of agriculture and of veterinary medicine and surgery. retiring from the university, for two years he took charge of the farms on some large estates. in he sailed from bremen for america, arriving at new york on september th of that year. leaving that city on the eleventh of the same month, he arrived in st. louis on october th. from that city he went to st. charles county, where he engaged in agriculture and other pursuits until . during his residence there he married elvira wurdeman, who survives him. in he removed to green county, southwest missouri, where he made his home for the next six years among the ozark mountains, where he and two brothers engaged in the distilling business. in mr. hospes went to st. louis and entered the employ of schulenberg & boeckeler, where he remained until oct. , , when he came to stillwater to take charge of the business of his employers here. in he became a partner in the concern, and continued so until , when the firm reorganized as the schulenberg-boeckeler lumber company. when he retired, his son, e. l. hospes, succeeded to his interest, which he now holds. in mr. hospes visited europe with his family, spending a year abroad. in , with his associates, he organized the first national bank of stillwater, of which he has been president for twenty years. his life in this city has been that of an active, energetic and generally successful business man, and though conservative in his business operations has always been ready to lend a helping hand to any deserving or practical business enterprise. he was marked for that fixed and reliable character which made his name a tower of strength to any enterprise with which he was connected, and his integrity, extending to little things, became proverbial. besides the sons named he left two daughters, mrs. h. e. mann, of milwaukee, and mrs. j. schlenk, of st. paul. david tozer was born in miramachi, new brunswick, in . his early opportunities for obtaining an education were somewhat limited, and he obtained only three months' schooling. he came to stillwater in and engaged in lumbering, working by the month for five years, and afterward independently or in partnership with his brother albert, and in the firm of sauntry & tozer, cutting and rafting lumber. he was married in canada, in , to margaret mckay. mr. tozer has been an industrious and successful man. david bronson was born in anson, maine, in . he clerked in boston from to , when he came to stillwater, where he has since been engaged in selling goods, lumbering and manufacturing. he was married in to ianthe davis. john maloy is of irish descent. he was born in ireland, and emigrated to new brunswick. he came to stillwater with his family in , and engaged in lumbering. his family consisted of nine sons and three daughters. the daughters are married. four of the sons are living; two of them. patrick and william, in oregon, and the others, james and robert, in stillwater. mrs. susannah tepass, _nee_ burkhart, was born in germany, aug. , . her parents emigrated to america in and settled in freeport, illinois, where she was married, in , to n. kimmick, and the same year came to stillwater. mr. kimmick died in . in she was married to frank aiple. mr. aiple died nov. , . dec. , , she was married to her present husband, herman tepass. her children are mary, herman and frank aiple. william e. thorne came to stillwater in . he has been an attentive and successful merchant, a polite and honorable gentleman, and a good citizen. edward j. butts was born in delaware county, new york, in ; graduated at the albany normal school in , and taught school awhile during his minority, and some years after studied law (in ), and was admitted to practice in broome county, new york. in he enlisted in a new york regiment and served his full time of enlistment. in he was appointed clerk in the third auditor's office, washington, which position he resigned in and came to stillwater to practice his profession. he served some time as justice of the peace, and for ten years as judge of probate in washington county. he was collector of internal revenue one year, and was eight years postmaster in stillwater, completing his term of service in . mr. butts was married to augusta miller in . mrs. butts died in , leaving one son and one daughter. mr. butts married ida ellsworth in . they have one son and two daughters. his oldest son is in the military school at west point. a. b. easton was born at mesopotamia, trumbull county, ohio, march , . his parents were natives of massachusetts, tracing their lineage to the pilgrim fathers. at the age of fourteen years he was clerk in a store, but at the wish of his parents, left the store and attended school, finishing his studies by a course at the high school. soon after he again assumed the position of clerk, in which he continued two years, when, in , he took charge of his father's hotel. two years subsequently he came to stillwater, beginning work as a compositor for the stillwater _messenger_, a. j. van voorhes, proprietor. during the absence of the proprietor mr. easton was manager. finally, in , he and a. b. stickney rented the paper, which they operated one year, then carried it on alone until . during this time mr. van voorhes had been filling the position of quartermaster, and on his return made mr. easton foreman, where he continued until . the st. paul _dispatch_ had just been established, and he was connected with the interests of this paper until his return to stillwater in . aug. , , he issued the first number of the stillwater _gazette_. his son william e. was taken as a partner in . mr. easton and son have through their ability and industry made the _gazette_ a readable, reliable and popular paper. mr. easton was married to julia burke, oct. , . they have four sons and three daughters. edwin a. folsom was born in exeter, new hampshire, june , . he spent most of his youth with his parents in bangor, maine, where he was educated in the common schools. in he came to stillwater and for six years was book-keeper for hersey, staples & co. in he enlisted in company c, eighth minnesota volunteers, and was commissioned as captain. he left the service at the close of the war with the rank of brevet colonel. returning to stillwater, he served six years as county treasurer, and has since been engaged in lumbering and selling goods under the firm name of bronson & folsom. he was married oct. , , to frances e. staples. john b. h. mitchell.--the ancestors of mr. mitchell were revolutionary patriots, originally scotch covenanters, who settled in north carolina, but who in after years freed their slaves and came to the northern states. mr. mitchell was born nov. , , in monroe county, kentucky. his education was obtained chiefly in the printing office of h. h. houghton, of galena, illinois. he came to st. paul in , and was employed two years in the _pioneer_ printing office. in , in company with t. m. newson and others, he published the st. paul _daily times_. in he located on a farm near south stillwater. during the early part of the civil war he was in nashville, tennessee, and reported proceedings of secession conventions to northern papers. in he was elected a member of the minnesota legislature. mr. mitchell has filled other offices of trust. he was married in to mariana b. fiske, a daughter of david fiske, of baytown. joseph schupp was born in baden, germany, in ; received a college and general business education and came to america in , locating first at buffalo, new york, and thence at toledo, ohio, whence he removed to stillwater in , and engaged in the mercantile business. commencing moderately, he extended his operations and now owns several buildings and blocks, and conducts a heavy wholesale trade. he was married in to mary fuller, of toledo, ohio. they have three sons living, joseph a., thomas o. a. and frank. clifford a. bennett was born in portage county, ohio, sept. , . he received a common school and collegiate education. he attended hiram college during the time that president james a. garfield presided over it. april , , he enlisted in company d, twenty-third ohio volunteers. he was subsequently promoted to the staff of gen. w. d. hazen and served until mustered out at the close of the war. he came to illinois in , read law and was admitted to practice in ; came to stillwater in , and for ten years was in the office of the surveyor general. in he was elected clerk of court. samuel mathews was born in new brunswick, july , . his opportunities for schooling were limited, and he is practically self educated. he came to stillwater in october, , since which time he has been engaged in lumbering, dealing in pine lands and in the mercantile business. he is a member of the firm of mathews & jourdain, and has been quite successful in his business undertakings. mr. mathews has been called upon to fill many positions of trust. he has served over twenty-five years as manager, receiving and disbursing agent of the stillwater fire department. he served four years as mayor of stillwater, was county commissioner for twelve years, and for many years director in the first national bank of stillwater. he was married to elisabeth foley in . their children are samuel, thomas, james, mollie, adie, stella, and may. john and james mathews, brothers of samuel, came to stillwater in , and are active, enterprising business men and good citizens. their business is farming and lumbering. peter jourdain is a native of canada. he came to stillwater about the year , and successfully engaged in lumbering. he is a member of the firm of mathews & jourdain, a firm engaged in dealing in logs and in manufacturing them into lumber. mr. jourdain has a family. james rooney was born in new richmond, canada east, in . he remained in canada until , when he removed to maine, coming thence to stillwater in . he engaged in lumbering, working at first by the month, and gradually acquiring means and influence for independent work. he is well situated, has a happy home and prosperous business. he was married to elisabeth mcguire, of stillwater, in . they have five children. james n. castle is a native of sheffield, sheffield county, province of quebec. he received a common school education; read law four years and was admitted to practice. he came to minnesota in , and taught school part of the time at afton until , when he was elected county attorney of washington county. mr. castle served as state senator in the eleventh, twelfth, twenty-first, twenty-second, twenty-third and twenty-fourth legislatures of minnesota. he settled in stillwater in . abraham l. gallespie was born at shiloh, randolph county, illinois, in . he came to osceola, polk county, wisconsin, in . in he moved to stillwater, since which time, with the exception of a year spent in colorado, and two years in the army as a member of company d, second wisconsin cavalry, he has followed the business of lumbering and dealing in logs. he has filled the position of alderman in stillwater. he was married to adelia f. wilson, of osceola, in . john c. gardiner came to stillwater in , from washington county, maine. he was born jan. , . on coming to stillwater he located on a homestead near the city, and followed farming and lumbering for some years. in he was appointed prison guard, which position he held until a recent date. in he was married to mary r. jackman, in maine. they have two sons living, frederic and albert l. mrs. gardiner died in august, . v. c. seward was born july , , at laketon, wabash county, indiana. he came to mankato at the age of ten, served an apprenticeship at printing in the office of the mankato _independent_, subsequently attended the western reserve college, ohio; and then became editor of the cleveland (ohio) _leader_. he returned to minnesota in , and founded the redwood falls _mail_. in he came to stillwater and purchased the stillwater _messenger_ in company with s. s. taylor. he has had entire control continuously since, and has been successful in its management. he was married to lily m. lumbard, at shakopee, minnesota, in . ralph wheeler, one of stillwater's early citizens, commenced piloting an the st. croix in , and has been continuously engaged in the piloting, steamboating, log and lumber business since. he is one of the original proprietors of the opera house. he was born in chautauqua county, new york, in . w. h. h. wheeler, brother of ralph, has long been a prominent citizen of stillwater. he married lura, daughter of daniel mears, of osceola. edward scott brown, of the firm of hersey, bean & brown, was born feb. , , at orono, maine. he received a good education in the common schools and at foxcroft academy. he learned the trade of millwright, and in went to puget sound, washington territory, via panama and san francisco, and was employed two years in building mills. he returned to orono in , and in came to st. anthony, minnesota, and engaged in the manufacturing and millwright business. he came to stillwater in , entered the firm of hersey, bean & brown, and in was appointed receiver of the northwestern car works. mr. brown represented his district in the state senate of . william lowell was born in concord, maine, april , . mr. lowell was raised on a farm, but followed lumbering after he was twenty-one years old, with the coburns on the kennebec river, and afterward took a vessel around cape horn to san francisco, california, with a cargo of manufactured lumber, consisting of ready made houses. he returned in by the overland route. two years later he came to taylor's falls, but in settled in stillwater, where he engaged in lumbering as a partner of s. m. sawyer. he made a fine farm in sterling, polk county, wisconsin, and lived upon it three years. he was interested in locating pine lands in company with the colburns of maine, on the st. croix waters. he was a member of the minnesota legislature in . he was married in concord, maine, in , to rhoda heald. she died in , leaving two daughters. in he was married to mrs. elisabeth rich, sister of isaac staples. mr. lowell died in stillwater, july , , leaving a widow and four children. albert lowell was born at concord, maine, july , . he was married feb. , , to miss abby reed, at kendall's mills, maine. from this union there were four children, of whom three are living, elmore, charles g. and ernest. mr. lowell spent his early days in farming on the banks of the kennebec river. in he came to stillwater and settled on a farm near lily lake, a portion of which farm is now used as a driving park. may , , he took charge of the noted sawyer house in stillwater, which he afterward purchased. himself, mrs. lowell and their son elmore have by their invariable courtesy and close attention to business made this hotel one of the most popular in the state. they sold and left the hotel, december, . nelson holmes van voorhes, eldest son of abraham van voorhes, settled in ohio and became a respected and useful citizen, at one time representing his district in congress. andrew jackson van voorhes, the second son, born june , , came to stillwater in , and in founded the stillwater _messenger_ and conducted it until , excepting two years which he spent in the army during the civil war. he was a member of the minnesota legislature in - , and served as clerk of the minnesota supreme court for one year. from to he served as quartermaster in the army, with the rank of captain. he died in stillwater in . henry clay van voorhes, the youngest son, was born in athens, ohio, in , and came with his father to stillwater in . during the war he was a member of company b, first minnesota volunteers, for about eighteen months, when he was discharged for disabilities. he afterward returned to the field with his brother, capt. a. j. van voorhes, but was not on active duty. at the close of the war he returned to stillwater, which has since been his home. he was married at arcola, feb. , , to emily mower, daughter of john e. and gracia mower. in he went to alaska. louisa, eldest daughter of abraham van voorhes, was married to c. a. bromley. she died in --. maria, the youngest daughter, was married to d. h. cutler, of stillwater. c. a. bromley was born in plattsburg, new york, oct. , . he came to minnesota in . he erected a fine livery and sale stable on chestnut street in . mr. bromley served in the war of the rebellion as captain of company b, first minnesota, and afterward of company i, sixth minnesota volunteers. he was married to louisa van voorhes, who died some years ago. he was married a second time, to a miss king. charles j. butler was born in pittsburgh, pennsylvania, march , . he was educated at the western university of pennsylvania. he removed to st. louis in , where he remained for ten years. he was married to margaret e. lansing, of madison, wisconsin, in may, . the following july he went as paymaster's clerk, under his father, maj. john b. butler, to mexico, in the chihuahua expedition, commanded by gen. john e. wool. returning to st. louis, he engaged in the wholesale grocery business until the spring of , when he disposed of his stock and went to california, where he engaged in mining operations. in august, , he came to marine as book-keeper for judd, walker & co., remaining with them until he was appointed secretary of the st. croix boom company, which position he held until . in he removed to stillwater. in he was elected delegate to the constitutional convention. he served one term as mayor of stillwater. in he served as first lieutenant under david bronson as captain, and with s. j. r. mcmillan as second lieutenant, in the chengwatana expedition sent from stillwater to prevent the chippewas from rising and joining in the sioux insurrection. he purchased the nelson warehouse, and, with capt. isaac gray as partner, engaged in the towboat business until . of late years mr. butler has been engaged in business ventures in western minnesota, but he still retains his residence at stillwater. mr. butler has always been a lover of field sports and his prowess as a sportsman is well remembered by his old friends. he has four children--two sons and two daughters. levi e. thompson was born in st. lawrence county, new york, may , ; educated at troy wesleyan seminary, new york; commenced studying law at the age of fourteen; was admitted to practice by the supreme court at the age of twenty, and, coming to stillwater in , commenced practice, having associated with him at various times t. e. parker, allen dawson and john vanderburgh. he was married, october, , to martha g. harris, daughter of albert harris, an early settler of stillwater. mr. thompson died nov. , . george davis was born in lancaster, massachusetts, sept. , . he received a good school and academic education. he removed to st. louis in , and to stillwater in , where he served some years as a mercantile clerk, then as deputy sheriff, then ten years as sheriff of washington county. he also served as clerk of the district court, and in as county auditor. in he was married to georgiana stanchfield, of stillwater. mr. davis died in and mrs. davis in , leaving five children. wm. monroe mccluer was born sept. , , in franklinville, new york. he graduated from temple hill academy, geneseo, new york, in ; studied law in moscow, new york; graduated at the state and national law school at poughkeepsie in , and, removing to stillwater the same year, engaged in the practice of his profession, in which he has been eminently successful. in november, , he was appointed additional judge for the first district, an office created by the legislature at its special session. judge mccluer served one term in the house of representatives. he was married to helen a. jencks, of waterford, saratoga county, new york, sept. , . they have one son, charles m., practicing law in stillwater. john nicholas ahl was born at strasburg on the rhine, oct. , . after seven years' study he was graduated as a physician at strasburg medical college in . he emigrated to america and located in galena, illinois, in , where he practiced medicine some years. he was married in to lucretia hartman. in he removed to stillwater. in he built the washington hotel (afterward changed to liberty house), on south main street. he practiced medicine and followed lumbering and hotel keeping in stillwater until his death, which occurred in . samuel m. register is a native of dover, delaware. he is of french descent, and some of his ancestors took part in the revolutionary war. he was born in , and came to stillwater in , where he engaged actively in business, dealing in lumber and pine lands, piloting, steamboating and farming. he was at one time a member of the city council, and a representative in the territorial legislature of - . he was married to minerva causlin in . j. a. johnson was born near the city of wexio, sweden, april , . in he emigrated with his parents to the united states, arriving at marine mills, washington county, minnesota late in the fall of that year. he remained at marine and stillwater till , attending school a large portion of the time. in the fall of that year he went to school at dubuque, iowa. after completing the course of study he learned the trade of locomotive engineer, which occupation he followed till , being in the employ of the united states government the last years of the war, in alabama, georgia and tennessee. after the close of the war, in , he returned north as far as st. louis, missouri, where he married miss agnes a. coler, of that city. he has children, boys and girls. his health having been impaired in the government service, he returned to marine in , where he remained till jan. , . in the fall of he was elected to the office of sheriff of washington county, which position he held for six years, and has been twice re-elected without opposition. retiring from the sheriff's office in , he removed to fargo, dakota, and engaged in the sale of agricultural implements, in which business he has remained up to the present time. during his residence in the city of fargo he has held various offices, such as alderman, member of the board of education, etc. in the fall of he was nominated for the territorial senate and received a majority of , votes in cass county, and out of a total of , in the city of fargo. in the spring of he was elected mayor of fargo by over majority, after one of the most hotly contested campaigns in the political history of the city. in he declined a re-election. while sheriff of washington county he devoted his leisure moments to the study of law, and was admitted to practice in all the courts of minnesota. although not in active practice his knowledge of law has been of great value to him in the business in which he has been engaged since that time. gold t. curtis was born in morrisville, new york, aug. , . at the age of eighteen he graduated at hamilton college, new york, and entered upon the study of law with judge morrill, chenango county, new york. he commenced practicing law at belleville, new york, in . during the same year he was married to abigail anderson, a descendant of gen. john stark, of revolutionary fame, and of the protestant branch of the royal house of the stuarts, some of whom came from scotland to america in . mrs. curtis is a lineal descendant of the unfortunate mary, queen of scots. mr. curtis removed to stillwater in and entered upon a lucrative law practice. he was elected a member of the minnesota constitutional convention. in he was also nominated for the position of district judge, but was defeated by s. j. r. mcmillan. he was much respected and held some offices of trust in the city and county. at the breaking out of the rebellion he enlisted in company i, fifth minnesota, and was promoted to the captaincy of the company, but his health failed and he died in st. louis july , . his remains were brought to stillwater and interred with military and masonic honors, aug. , . harley d. curtis, a native of new york and a brother of gold t. curtis, came to stillwater in . he held the positions of postmaster and justice of the peace. francis roach delano.--the ancestors of mr. delano came to america in , and were active participants in the stirring scenes and controversies preceding the revolution. francis roach, after whom mr. delano was named, was the owner of the ship dartmouth, one of the vessels out of which the tea was cast into boston harbor, on the memorable occasion of the tea party of . notwithstanding the affair of the tea, the family, who were ardent patriots, have preserved as a precious relic some of the tea rescued from the general destruction. mr. delano is one of sixteen children in his father's family. he was born in worcester, massachusetts, nov. , ; received a common school and academic education, and was employed in a machine shop some years. at the age of twenty he was employed in an engineering corps and served two years. he was for two years superintendent of the boston & worcester railroad. in he came to st. louis, missouri, and was variously employed until , when he removed to minnesota and was engaged for a year in st. anthony (now minneapolis), in running the government mill. the mill had been leased for five years. mr. smith fulfilled the contract, and mr. delano, being released from it, came to stillwater in and entered into contract with jesse taylor, martin mower, jonathan e. mckusick, and jacob fisher, under the firm name of jesse taylor & co., to build the territorial prison. mr. delano was appointed first warden, march, , and served until . he was intrusted with the expenditure of public moneys from territorial authorities, in caring for and improving the prison. when the state government was organized he was released. he was afterward a member of the firm of delano, mckusick & co., sawing and selling lumber. j. e. mckusick and robert simpson were members of this firm. mr. delano moved to st. paul in , and was afterward engaged in railroad employment. in he was commissioned colonel to take command of five companies during the indian outbreak. the command was stationed at chengwatana, pine county. he died february, . he was married oct. , , to calista ann cavander, who, with two sons, survives him. henry w. cannon was born in delhi, new york, sept. , . he was educated at delaware literary institute. he came to st. paul in , and in to stillwater, where he accepted the position of cashier of the stillwater lumberman's bank. in he was appointed by president arthur united states bank comptroller. he was removed by president cleveland. he is now a resident of new york city, and is engaged in banking. dwight m. sabin was born at marseilles, la salle county, illinois, april , . the ill health of the father, who was an extensive land owner and stock raiser, necessitated a removal to the seaside in connecticut in . in consequence of the continued ill health of the father and his death in , young dwight was deprived of the thorough education to which he aspired, and, being the oldest son, found the cares and responsibilities of managing his father's business thrown upon his shoulders while he was yet a boy. in he removed with his mother and younger brother to minnesota, the year following to stillwater, where he engaged in business with the firm of seymour, sabin & co. this firm contracted for the convict labor in the state prison, and engaged in the manufacture of doors, sash, blinds and cooperage. the business in was extended and made to include the manufacture of agricultural implements, including also a machine, boiler shop and foundry, until it is now one of the most extensive establishments in the country. mr. sabin is also interested in other manufactures, among them the c. n. nelson lumber company and the duluth iron company. in mr. sabin was the prime organizer of the northwestern car company, with a capital of $ , , . the company was to receive a bonus from the city of stillwater of $ , in bonds, on certain conditions. the company purchased the interests of seymour, sabin & co., thereby coming into possession of their immense manufactories, including those managed under the prison contracts, and elected mr. sabin president, and was making rapid progress toward the completion of its plans, when, owing to the stringency of the financial world, it was compelled to make an assignment. while mr. sabin has been busy with the management of his vast manufacturing establishments, he has been no less active and conspicuous as a public spirited citizen, ever taking a great interest in the affairs of his adopted city, of the state and country at large, and his talents and efficiency have been recognized by his fellow citizens, who elected him to the state senate in - - , and to the house of representatives in and . he has several times been a delegate to the national republican convention, and was chairman of the convention at which james g. blaine was nominated for the presidency. he was elected to the united states senate in as the successor of hon. wm. windom. chapter xvi. stearns, anoka and sherburne counties. stearns county. stearns county derived its name from hon. charles t. stearns, a prominent citizen of st. cloud, a representative of the precinct of st. anthony falls in the fifth and sixth territorial councils. it is bounded on the north by todd and morrison counties, on the east by benton, sherburne and wright counties, the mississippi forming the dividing line against benton and sherburne, and clearwater against wright county, on the south by kandiyohi and mecker, and on the west by pope county. it contains an area equal to thirty-six townships. it is a fine agricultural county and is well watered by the tributaries of the mississippi, the principal of which is sauk river. it has also an abundance of small lakes. its oldest settlement and principal city is st. cloud, and among its most flourishing villages are sauk centre, fair haven, clearwater, melrose, st. joseph, albany, paynesville, richmond, and cold springs. the county was organized in , under the legislative act of that year. gov. willis a. gorman appointed the following commissioners: david t. wood, john ferschniller and john l. wilson. they held their first meeting at the house of john l. wilson, april , . j. l. wilson acted as chairman. the board appointed the following county officers: charles ketchum, clerk; robert b. blake, treasurer; l. b. hammond, sheriff; n. n. smith, judge of probate; r. b. blake, surveyor; and john harry weltshimer, assessor. the board established three precincts, viz.: st. augusta, st. cloud and tamarack. the judges of election for st. augusta were john m. feble, john g. lodenbeck and anton emholt; for st. cloud, joseph demil, l. b. hammond and battise arsenan; for tamarack, henry foster, louis amel and john smith. license was granted to joseph p. wilson, george f. brott, l. b. hammond, and o. carter to run a ferry across the mississippi river. april , , farmington precinct was established. john m. lindeman, jacob c. staples and d. t. wood were judges of election. july , , the first rate of taxation was fixed for the county at one per cent. the first license to sell spirituous liquors was granted to anton edelbrock. the first order issued was to pay for county books, $ . , to john l. wilson. ordered that washington avenue and st. augusta street be adopted as county roads. aug. , , it was ordered that chippewa agency precinct (now in crow wing county) be and remain as it was when a part of benton county, and j. d. crittenden, truman warren and d. b. herriman were appointed judges of election. it was ordered that long prairie precinct (now in todd county) remain as it was when a part of benton county, and anson northrup, lewis stone and harman becker were appointed judges of election. on jan. , , a new board of commissioners qualified, consisting of anton edelbrock, chairman, reuben m. richardson, and m. j. orth. h. c. waite was appointed prosecuting attorney. the county was organized for judicial purposes in , and the counties of crow wing and todd were attached. the first term of court was held june , ; hon. moses sherburne, presiding, taylor dudley, clerk, and joseph edelbrock, sheriff. the writer is indebted to the efficient clerk of court of , a. l. cramb, for collecting data, as the old records are quite unintelligible. judge e. o. hamlin held the first term of court under the state organization. at the session of the commissioners in july, , the first bonds of the county were ordered for building a court house, amounting to $ , , at twelve per cent interest for eight years. the bonds were offered in new york city by an agent. these bonds were lost, and only two of them were recovered. at the session of the commissioners for august, the donation of john l. wilson of four blocks of ground, containing eight acres, for court house purposes, was accepted. three-fourths of the ground was sold by the county, and the funds received from the sale, together with $ , in bonds issued in , and other bonds issued later, were used in erecting the court house. st. cloud. the eastern side of the mississippi river was the first settled. as early as david gilman had located at a point now called watab. during the ensuing year, jeremiah russell, philip beaupre and james beatty were keeping trading posts at sauk rapids. in j. q. a. and w. h. wood, brothers, located there. in the rapids had become quite a point with its indian trading posts, its stores and its united states land office. among the early residents were many subsequently identified with the interests of st. cloud. in the spring of john l. wilson crossed the river at the point now known as the upper landing, then covered with a dense growth of trees and underbrush. on the adjoining prairie, a norwegian, ole burgerson by name, had staked out a claim and put up a shanty. mr. wilson purchased his interest and in june of the same year erected a frame dwelling (still standing) near the railroad bridge. nicholas lake put up a blacksmith shop near by. during this year james hitchins put up a small log dwelling for gen. s. b. lowry, who platted the township of acadia, now lowry's addition to st. cloud. a post office was established here through his influence. the same year brott & co. laid out st. cloud city. the earliest claimants of the town site, owning claims fronting on the river, were s. b. lowry, ole burgerson, martin woolley, and michael zoms. john l. wilson having purchased the claim of ole burgerson, platted the village of st. cloud, and this was the first recorded of any of the st. cloud plats. the village of st. cloud made but little progress until , when a hotel known as the stearns house, now used in connection with the normal school, was built, a ferry established and other improvements made. a notable incident connected with this ferry is the fact that the rev. abbot alexius edelbrock, now president of st. john's university, then a lad of thirteen years of age, was ferryman, he being the son of the proprietor of the ferry. the craft was swung back and forth like a pendulum, by the current acting against its keel, being fastened by a long rope some distance up the river. it was not therefore beyond the ability of so youthful a ferryman to manage. the post office, established first at acadia, became the st. cloud post office and joseph edelbrock was appointed postmaster. he was reappointed by president cleveland to the same position in . the first newspaper in st. cloud was the _visitor_, established in , by the gifted and somewhat erratic journalist and reformer, jane grey swisshelm. this paper had but a brief and troubled career--the advanced views and dictatorial style of its publisher and editor proving somewhat distasteful to the community at large. mrs. swisshelm, who had already won a national reputation, went to washington, became a contributor to the new york _tribune_, and had thereafter a somewhat variable, and upon the whole brilliant, career as a lecturer, editor and reformer. she was amongst the strongest, though not the most radical, of the advocates of woman's rights. she was not a woman suffragist, but directed her efforts chiefly toward establishing the legal identity of married women. she was also very pronounced in her anti-slavery views. the first records of the organization of st. cloud as a village have been lost. it was reorganized by legislative enactment in , and the following were the first officers: mayor, judge l. a. evans; councilmen, h. c. burbank, john w. tenvoorde, joseph broker and barney overbeck; clerk, a. b. curry. st. cloud was organized as a city in , under the following officers: mayor, judge e. o. hamlin; aldermen, l. a. evans, president; peter smith, thomas smith, t. c. alden, leander gorton, t. r. bennett, o. tenny, c. bridgman, andrew fritz, l. r. roberts, lewis clarke, h. c. burbank; clerk, n. f. barnes. the city government has been judiciously managed. the united states land office, established first at sauk rapids in , was removed to st. cloud in may, . the first receiver was w. h. wood. his successors have been s. b. hayes, c. a. gilman, w. b. mitchell, h. g. burbank, ole peterson, and c. f. mcdonald, the present incumbent. the first register was george w. sweet. his successors have been w. a. caruthers, t. c. mcclure, h. c. waite, h. l. gordon, j. a. brower, and d. h. freeman. the city has paid for various improvements as follows: city water works on the holly system, $ , ; city bridge over the mississippi, feet in length, $ , ; to the manitoba railroad in real estate and bonds, $ , ; in cash, $ , ; gas works, $ , . the fire department is well equipped. an electric light plant has been established. considerable money and work have been expended in dredging lake george, a beautiful lake about fifty-five acres in extent, lying in the heart of the city, and surrounding it with parks. street cars have been introduced and altogether the city has made most commendable advancement in all those things that pertain to beauty and comfort. not less rapid and substantial are its advances in commerce and manufactures. before the completion of the railway it had regular communication by water with all river points, and since its facilities for transportation have made it the peer of any inland city of its size in the state. the railroads of st. cloud are the manitoba with its various branches and the northern pacific, the latter passing through east st. cloud. among the improvements of which its citizens are justly proud we may mention the st. cloud dam, constructed in , at a cost of $ , . the city gave $ , for this improvement. the dam has for its foundation the underlying granite of this section. it is intended as a permanent structure and must conduce largely to the growth and prosperity of the city. the dam has feet head of water and furnishes , horse power. a flour mill with a capacity of barrels per day is run by the water power. the phoenix iron works, established at a cost of $ , , give employment to men. bridgman's steam saw mill has a capacity of about , feet of lumber per day. st. cloud is backed by a rich agricultural and timbered district. in the vicinity are valuable quarries of jasper, and of gray and red granite. two granite polishing works, operated by steam, are located near the city. these quarries stretch away to the northeast, through the counties of benton, morrison, mille lacs and kanabec. they give employment to , men. the manitoba railroad company has purchased recently about acres of land, on which to build extensive shops and stock yards, calculated to give employment, when completed, to , men. the principal hotels are the grand central and the west house. the first bank in st. cloud was established by waite & mcclure in . this bank, a private institution, was the beginning of the banking system in st. cloud. it is now operated by n. p. clarke. the first national bank was organized as a private bank in , with a capital stock of $ , ; james a. bell, president; joseph g. smith, cashier. it was reorganized as a state bank in , with a capital stock of $ , . in it was reorganized as a national bank. the first board of officers have served continuously to date. the business of the bank amounts to over $ , . the german american national bank was organized in ; chas. a. hull, president; edgar hull, cashier; capital stock $ , . the business (in ) amounts to $ , . the present board of officers are: f. e. searle, president; john cooper, vice president; f. m. morgan, cashier. st. cloud has many fine buildings. the court house cost $ , , and four school buildings an aggregate of $ , . the bishop's cathedral cost $ , , and the catholic church $ , . the episcopalians, presbyterians, baptists, methodists, congregationalists, and lutherans have organizations and good church buildings. the normal school buildings located here cost $ , . st. cloud university is a flourishing institution. st. john's university, although located in the adjoining town of st. joseph, has been identified more or less with the interests of st. cloud, and deserves mention in its history. it was originally located two miles south of st. cloud, but was subsequently removed to a point northwest, a mile distant from the thriving village of collegeville. the university owes its existence to the zeal, energy and self devotion of the benedictine fathers, a colony of whom came to america in . this colony settled first in westmoreland, pennsylvania, but in , at the invitation of bishop cretin, came to minnesota, where, the year following, they commenced their educational work on the banks of the mississippi near st. cloud. the school was commenced as a seminary, but in the state legislature granted authority to confer degrees, and in formally changed the name from st. john's seminary to st. john's university. the buildings are ample and commodious, and located pleasantly on the banks of a beautiful lake. the faculty consists of rt. rev. alexius edelbrock and twenty-two professors. in st. benedict's hospital was erected at a cost of about $ , . it is under the supervision of the benedictine nuns. the state reformatory was located at east st. cloud in . la sauk, formerly st. joe, adjoining st. cloud on the north, had a saw and flour mill erected in . these mills were burned in , and rebuilt in . amongst the early settlers were j. h. lineman in , j. a. upham and george rieder in . peter schaeler, a farmer, a native of germany, came to america in , and to st. joseph in . john, his only son, retains the old homestead, and was in engaged in the insurance business in st. cloud. john l. wilson was born in columbia, washington county, maine, in . he came to minnesota in , locating at st. anthony, but in the following year removed to sauk rapids and in to st. cloud. the first deed on record in stearns county was from john l. wilson to l. c. kenna, and bears date of . in he was married to harriet n. corbett. they have three children living. charles t. stearns, from whom the county took its name, has been for many years a resident of louisiana, and is a wealthy planter. henry g. fillmore, a nephew of president fillmore, was born in the state of new york in the ' s, and came to watab in . he has lived in st. cloud many years. nathaniel getchell was born in washington county, maine, in . he came to st. anthony in , and to stearns county in . james keough came from ireland to america in , and directly to watab. he settled in st. cloud in , was married in , and has a large family. loren w. collins was born in lowell, massachusetts, aug. , . he received a common school education; came to hastings, minnesota, some time prior to the rebellion, studied law with smith & crosby and was admitted to practice, but in august, , entered the service of his country in company f, seventh minnesota volunteers, of which company he was commissioned second lieutenant, and a year later first lieutenant. he was discharged with his regiment at the close of the war, and returned to his law practice. in he removed to st. cloud and practiced law. he served as county attorney a number of years; was a member of the minnesota house of representatives in - ; was appointed judge of the seventh judicial district april , , and elected to that office in . nov. , , he was appointed to fill the vacancy caused by the death of judge berry, an appointment that gives general satisfaction, judge collins having won an enviable reputation as a jurist and as a man. henry c. waite was born in albany county, new york, in ; graduated at union college, schenectady, new york; was admitted to practice law in , and the same year came to iowa. a year later he removed to wisconsin, and located at madison, where he practiced law two years. in may, , he came to st. cloud, where he has since continuously resided. the first ten years of his residence in st. cloud he devoted to the practice of his profession, after which he devoted his time to farming and milling. mr. waite was a member of the constitutional convention in . he also served several terms in the senate and house. during president lincoln's administration he served as register of the land office. he was married to maria d. clark in . he has two sons. gen. s. b. lowry was the son of the devoted and zealous missionary, rev. david lowry, who labored among the winnebagoes in northern iowa in the ' s and ' s. he located first at brockway, ten miles above st. cloud, and established a trading post, but in removed to st. cloud, where he surveyed and platted the village of acadia, afterward known as "lowry's addition." he made st. cloud his home until his death, which occurred in . anthony edelbrock was the first resident of st. cloud. his oldest son was the first child born there. this son died in infancy. his second son became the abbot of st. john's university. mr. edelbrock is now a resident of missouri. joseph edelbrock was born in westphalia, prussia, in . he learned the trade of a carpenter, came to america in , and lived in chicago until , when he came to st. cloud and engaged in mercantile pursuits. he is the oldest merchant continuously in business in the city. he served as sheriff two years and as register of deeds four years. he was married in chicago in , and has six children living. a daughter, the second child born in st. cloud, is the wife of peter e. kaiser. john rengel, made a claim here in . he has been and still is a prosperous citizen. he has a family of ten children. louis a. evans was born near philadelphia, nov. , . his forefathers came to america with william penn and bought of him a township of land, on which still reside many of his descendants. his father served as a soldier in the war of . louis was educated at the graded schools in philadelphia; was apprenticed to a piano maker, and worked at his trade at cincinnati, ohio, clinton, mississippi, and new orleans until , when he came to st. cloud, where he still resides. during his residence he has served as postmaster, judge of probate, clerk of the district court, editor of the st. cloud _times_, mayor of st. cloud, and president of the council and member of the house and senate of the state legislature. he was married to elisabeth w. libby in . ambrose freeman.--we have no datum as to when mr. freeman came to st. cloud, but it was probably prior to . he was a stonemason, and while working on a cellar wall heard the report of the sioux uprising and massacre (in ), and, dropping his tools, hurried off to satisfy himself as to the truth of the reports, called a meeting of citizens, and organized a company of twenty-five volunteers to assist in caring for the wounded and burying the dead. on his return he was commissioned captain of the northern rangers and marched with his command to the relief of forest city and fort abercrombie. he was with gen. sibley's command in , and while riding over the prairie was shot with an arrow by an indian, and expired instantly. nathan f. barnes has lived a somewhat eventful life. he was born at portland, maine, june , ; received an academic education; served as a midshipman in the navy from to , visiting many parts of the globe. in he commenced the study of law, was admitted to practice in and practiced awhile at conway, new hampshire, where in he was married. in he was appointed mail agent on the isthmus route to california, served six years, and then located in california. two years later, in , he removed to alexandria, minnesota. during the sioux massacre he and andreas darling were the only persons remaining in the neighborhood who escaped being killed. in he came to st. cloud, where he has been an active and prominent citizen. he served many years as city clerk and city justice and was elected to the house of the state legislature in . he was influential in securing the location of the normal school in st. cloud. one son, percival s., died in the saulsbury prison during the civil war. he has one son and one daughter living. nehemiah p. clark was born in worcester county, massachusetts, april , . in his youth he attended school in kentucky and at seventeen years of age was clerking in a store at fond du lac, wisconsin. in he came to st. cloud and engaged actively in business, selling goods, farming, staging, lumbering, and dealing in pine lands. he has a farm in le sauk of , acres, a creamery, a cheese factory, and one of the largest and best herds of cattle, horses, hogs and sheep in the state. for office and official honors he has no taste. he served, however, as president of the state agricultural society in . oscar e. garrison was born at fort ann, new york, in , and was early thrown upon his own resources. he came to minnesota in , and built the first house on the shores of lake minnetonka where wayzata is now located. in he surveyed and platted the village of wayzata. in he came to st. cloud. he made a land claim in polk county in and narrowly escaped being murdered by the sioux at their uprising. his house and property were destroyed. while hiding with his wife and four-year-old son, indians passed within twenty feet of him. after a perilous night journey, during which he came almost within touching distance of sleeping indians, he arrived safely at sauk centre. the gilman family.--the gilman family of which charles a. is a descendant came to america from hingham, england, with the folsoms, in , and are the founders of the town of hingham, massachusetts. the gilmans were renowned for their loyalty to the colonies, and later to the state and national government. charles a. gilman was born in gilmanton, new hampshire, feb. , . his youth was spent at home, where he received a common school and academic education, the latter at gilmanton academy. he taught school during the winters. in he came to sauk rapids, benton county, where he engaged in farming and real estate business; he also filled the offices of auditor and register of deeds. in he removed to st. cloud, having been appointed register of the united states land office for that place. he served seven years as register and receiver. he studied law, and was admitted to practice in . mr. gilman has lived a busy life, and besides his real estate, law, surveying and exploring business, he has taken a conspicuous position in the politics of his state, having served as state senator in the years - , and as representative from to . in - he served as speaker of the house. from to he was lieutenant governor of the state. he was elected to the legislature several times as a republican, when the district was strongly democratic, a high compliment to his ability and integrity. he was married to hester cronk, at sauk rapids, jan. , . they have six children living. he has lived at st. cloud since , where he has a delightful home. of st. cloud citizens not elsewhere mentioned in this work, and who have been prominent in advancing its interests, are charles bridgman, henry g. mitchell and son, c. f. mcdonald, lewis clark, alonzo f. cramb, c. f. davis, levi s. geer, josiah g. hayward, david l. kiehle, a. montgomery, overbeck brothers, john h. owen, and john cooper. st. cloud has furnished three able jurists for the supreme bench in this district, e. o. hamlin, j. m. mckelvy and l. w. collins. anoka county. anoka county was organized in , the nucleus or first settlement being a small village on the mississippi, at the month of rum river, named anoka, from a chippewa word meaning work or labor. the county has a fine location on the east bank of the mississippi. its boundaries on the north are isanti county, on the east chisago and washington counties, on the south ramsey county, and on the west sherburne county and the mississippi river. rum river flows in a southeasterly direction through the county, and by this river, its tributaries and those of the mississippi and st. croix, the county is well watered and drained. the valleys of these streams furnish many fine natural meadows. the soil is a black sandy loam with clay subsoil. townships , and , range , are drained by the tributaries of the st. croix. originally consisting of oak openings, natural meadows and tamarack swamps, interspersed with small lakes, with excellent roads, school houses, churches and town organizations, the county is well settled and has many fine farms under a high state of cultivation. its proximity to the pineries of rum river and to the markets of minneapolis and st. paul makes it a desirable location for the lumbermen and farmers. the county is subdivided into the following townships: anoka, bethel, blaine, burns, centreville, columbus, fridley, grow, ham lake, linwood, oak grove, ramsey, and st. francis. the northern pacific and st. paul, minneapolis & manitoba railroads traverse this county near its western boundary, following the course of the mississippi river. outside of anoka the first settlement in the county was within the bounds of the present town of ramsey. nathan shumway, cornelius pitman and daniel hawthorne settled there in . the first county commissioners were appointed by the governor. they were e. c. h. davis, j. p. austin and silas o. lum. they met june , , and appointed the following officers: sheriff, james c. frost; treasurer, james m. mcglauflin; coroner, joseph c. varney; assessors, daniel robbins, s. l. guice, francis peeler. the first deed on record in the county bears date of june , . it conveys the northwest quarter of section , township , range , from nathaniel s. davis to mary s. small, for a consideration of five hundred dollars. there is, however, a transcript of a deed from ramsey county bearing original date of sept. , , conveying the north half of the northwest quarter of section , township , range , from abel bloodgood, of minnesota territory, to henry m. rice, for a consideration of two hundred dollars. the first town plat, that of anoka, bears date of july , . anoka. this town lies on the east shore of the mississippi and includes part of fractional township , range . it is watered by rum river, which traverses the northwestern part, and by coon creek in the eastern part. the town originally was chiefly prairie. its early history is included in that of anoka county. anoka city. the county seat of anoka county is located on the mississippi at the mouth of rum river and dates its settlement to the year , when thomas holmes located on the east bank of the river, and built the first log house for a trading post. aaron betts, in the employ of holmes, brought his family with him, the first family in the town. in the winter of - holmes sold out to simeon p. folsom, whose family was the second in the town. mr. folsom raised the first crop in the township. in september, , mr. folsom removed to sherburne county, selling out his claim to louis roberts. in the winter of the same year wm. dahl took possession for mr. roberts. in the spring of antoine roberts, brother of louis, came from prairie du chien, took possession of the home, and lived there some years, when he was killed by an indian. when the land on which the improvements were made was brought into market louis roberts entered it. in anton guion entered a quarter section of land on the west side. he immediately sold his claim to henry m. rice, who bought it with the intention of platting it as a town site. his brother, orrin rice, occupied it and made improvements. rum river has a fall of five feet, which is fully utilized at anoka. in geo. w. branch took up a claim on the west side, and built a house near what is now the corner of main and ferry streets. this was the first frame house in anoka, which, from this time forward, grew almost imperceptibly into a village, till in the census showed nearly inhabitants. in the population was , and in , , . anoka was incorporated as a city in , with the following board of officers: mayor, g. w. church; aldermen, d. c. dunham, d. h. lane, l. g. browning, a. davis, h. n. seelye, and j. h. pierce; treasurer, h. e. lepper; justices of the peace, w. w. fitch and e. s. teller; constables, george geddes and norman mclean. at that time the city was divided into two wards, the first including the east side, and the second the west side, of rum river. in the west side was changed to the first ward, and the east side became the second and third wards. in ed. i. shaw built and opened the first store. it was on the west side, and the building still stands, and is known as the schuler building. it is now the hospital: caleb and w. h. woodbury erected a saw mill on the east side. it was subsequently owned by woodbury, shaw & farnham. during the same year a bridge was built across rum river by the government; orrin rice, contractor. the first flour will was finished in . it was burned ten days after with $ , worth of wheat and corn a total loss, as there was no insurance. it was owned by a. p. lane, caleb and henry woodbury. the mill was rebuilt by caleb woodbury and wm. l. barnes. in h. l. ticknor erected and opened the first store on the east side. rev. royal twitchell preached the first sermon and taught the first school. the first mill was utilized on sundays as a church. the congregationalists organized the first church in anoka in , and erected a church building in . the baptists and catholics organized in , the methodists and episcopalians in , the universalists in , the swedish lutherans in , the adventists in , and the free methodists in . the masons organized a lodge in , the knights of pythias in , the united workmen in , the patrons of husbandry in , and the odd fellows in . anoka has suffered from time to time by fires. a flour mill, two saw mills, half a dozen hotels, and a large number of stores have been burned at different times, and twice the business part of the city has been destroyed. aug. , , the entire business portion of the city, including business blocks and the washburn mills, was consumed. the loss amounted to $ , , on which there was an insurance of $ , . the burnt district has since been handsomely rebuilt, and the washburn flour mill has been replaced with a superior building, five stories high, × , ground plan, and rising to the height of feet. this is one of the finest mills in the state. the court house is valued at $ , , the city hall at $ , , and four school buildings at $ , . the bridge across the mississippi, a fine structure, feet long, was built at a cost of $ , . street cars have been introduced on some of the streets. the principal manufactories are the lincoln flouring mill, with a capacity of seven hundred bushels per day, owned by the washburn mill company; four saw mills belonging to the washburn mill company, with a capacity of , , feet per year; the anoka sash and door factory, one of the most thriving industries in the city, jonas morell, manager; a starch factory, a boot and shoe company, with a capital of $ , , recently organized. other industries are well represented; the whole giving employment to over , men. the first national bank of anoka was organized as a private banking institution in . it became a state bank in , with a capital stock of $ , , and a national bank in , with a paid up capital of $ , . the officers are: president, h. l. ticknor; cashier, b. f. pratt. the anoka national bank was organized in , with a paid up capital of $ , . the officers are: president, w. d. washburn; vice president, c. c. crane; cashier. c. s. guderian. bethel includes township and the twelve south sections of township , range . its surface is partially prairie land, and is dotted with small lakes. the first settlers were quakers, with the exception of rice, price, o. evans and robert minard, who came in . bethel post office is located at what is known as bethel corners. the town was organized in . the first supervisors were o. evans, w. dickens and r. price. blaine, named in honor of james g. blaine, embraces township , range . it was originally included in anoka, but was set off and organized in . the first supervisors were moses ripley, george tisdale and richard de long. the records have not been kept with sufficient accuracy to enable us to determine who were the first settlers. it appears, however, that the first comers abandoned their claims. green chambers is the first settler recorded. he came in . burns includes township , range , and is in the northwestern part of the county. the soil is clay loam, and in the western part are many lakes. of these twin lakes are ninety feet in depth. the first settler was john derigan, who was also one of the first settlers of elk river township, in sherburne county. the town was organized in . the supervisors were john d. keen, john a. mussey and w. d. le clair. a german lutheran church was built in . centreville includes township , range . it is the oldest settlement in the county, alphonse jarvis having located here in . frank lamott settled here in . the first considerable settlement was made on rice lake, in , by f. w. traverse and other german families. a french colony settled in the eastern part of the town in . prominent among these colonists were francis x. levalle and brother, oliver and frank dupre, francis lamott and oliver peltier. the town was organized in , with the following commissioners: oliver peltier, chairman; francis lamott, treasurer, and stephen ward. the town was originally a timbered and meadow district. it has a good black loam soil, and is well watered by rice lake and numerous small streams. it contains a number of ancient mounds. its nearest railroad station is centreville, on the st. paul & duluth road, an washington county. centreville village was platted in , by peltier, lavalle & lamott. it contains a substantial brick church known as the church of st. genevieve of paris, built in . the congregation numbers about four hundred. columbus, township , range , was settled in by james starkey, isaac conway, john kleiner and henry batzle. mr. conway became a dealer in real estate, and removed to california where he died. james starkey figured prominently in the early history of the territory and state, but may be mentioned here as the founder of the village of columbus, in and . he expended $ , in building a hotel and other improvements, not a vestige of which now remains. fridley. this town, including fractional township , range , was organized as manomin county in , and held that organization, with a. m. fridley as chairman of county commissioners, until , when it was disorganized and attached to anoka county, retaining manomin as its town name until , when it was changed to fridley by legislative enactment. john sullivan, g. w. thurber and thomas casey were the first supervisors. the town contains about thirteen sections of land in the eastern part of township , range , pleasantly located on the east bank of the mississippi. it is traversed by rice creek. john banfil settled here in and was the first postmaster of the village of manomin, of which he was proprietor. he represented the twenty-fourth district as senator in the first state legislature. he removed to bayfield, wisconsin, and died there in . it has been improved by the introduction of large manufacturing establishments. a flouring mill was built in . in $ , was expended in manufactories, and real estate to the amount of $ , changed hands. it has one church building (episcopal), erected in . grow includes township , range . it is watered by rum river and coon creek. george branch settled here in , and about the same period, j. c. frost, joseph mckinney, andrew j. smith and walter d. gary. the town was organized in as round lake, but changed to grow in , in honor of senator grow of pennsylvania. the first supervisors were silas o. lum, w. w. hank and wm. staples. the town records were burned in . in the catholics erected a church building. ham lake, formerly a part of grow, was set off and organized in . it includes township , range . it was settled chiefly by swedes and norwegians, of whom matts gilbertson, of norway, was first to locate here. there were many transient persons among the first comers, but the first permanent settler of any nationality was josiah hart, from vermont, who came in . he died in . john scully came in . the first supervisors were john rowe, a. b. lingard and c. olsen. the swedes and norwegians have each a house of worship. linwood. this town, consisting of township , and twelve sections of township , range , lies in the northeastern part of the county. it is well watered and traversed by a chain of lakes. the first settlement was by joseph sanson, a german, who located here in . w. dickens, an englishman, came in . linwood was set off from bethel and columbus, and organized september, . the first town officers were j. g. green, f. mcgregor and michael hurley. there is a post office in the village of linwood. a methodist church was built in , and a saw and feed mill, by shanton & haskell, in . l. s. arnold, a native of montreal, canada, born in , came to minnesota in . he seems to have made his home at linwood, which he left, but after living some years in michigan and missouri, he again returned in . samuel ridge came to linwood in . j. g. green, born in , located here in , and since has served as postmaster in linwood village. he has served several years as county commissioner. the green brothers are descendants of the plymouth pilgrims. g. w. haskell was an early settler. he originally came from skowhegan, maine. he died in . michael m. ryan was born in ireland in . he came to america in and settled in linwood with his father's family. two brothers enlisted as volunteers during the civil war, and died in the service. the hurley family come to linwood some time in the ' s. the sons are prominent business men at north branch, pine city and hinckley. the father moved to north branch in . oak grove includes township , range . it abounds in small lakes and the rum river drains the western portion. the first settlers were david rogers, moses seeley and james nutter, in . dennis mahoney, of ireland, born in , came to oak grove in , held the office of supervisor fourteen years, and that of justice of the peace continuously to the present. the town was organized in , with the following supervisors: a. w. norris, dennis e. mahoney and peter brennan. rose, daughter of william smith, was the first child born. ramsey, named in honor of the first territorial governor, occupies fractional township , range , in the western part of the county, on the mississippi river. it was organized in as watertown, which name was changed to dover, and then to ramsey, in . in an indian trading house was opened in section , by t. a. holmes and thomas beatty. the first permanent settlement was made by a new england colony in , amongst whom were p. shumway and sons (john and peter), nathan and benjamin shumway, and cornelius pitman. in the town plat of itasca was surveyed in sections and . william vincent, thomas miller and j. c. bowers came to ramsey in . mr. bowers was postmaster for twenty-five years at itasca, and died oct. , . the first supervisors were jared benson, isaac varney and cornelius pitman. st. francis includes the two southern tiers of sections of township , ranges and . the first settlers were george armsby and e. fowler, in . the town was organized in , but the records have been lost. dwight woodbury, who has been prominent in the history of the county, located a water power flour and saw mill and built a hotel on rum river where the village of st. francis has since been built, and surveyed the village plat. the mills were destroyed by fire in , but were immediately rebuilt. in a bridge across rum river was built at an expense of $ , . mr. woodbury's investments have been over $ , . mr. streetly opened the first store and was first postmaster at st. francis. an indian riot. in the fall of a german baron, a single man, and wm. noot and wife settled on big island, in the mississippi, about two miles above the mouth of rum river. they were traders. in march, , in consequence of the revolution in germany, the baron returned to his native land. noot remained until june, when the winnebago indians were removed by gen. fletcher. pending their removal the winnebagoes made a raid on the trading post, confiscated the whisky and provisions and fastened noot in a stable and his wife and child in a small cabin, where they were found by s. p. folsom the same day, surrounded by drunken indians and in imminent peril. noot appealed to folsom for aid. the indians, however, were furious and threatened folsom's life. the chief, "whistling thunder," used his influence in a novel way to quiet the turbulent, by placing before them all that remained of the barrel of whisky, which they eagerly drank. folsom then released noot. the wife, who had been previously released, ran with her child, frightened out of her wits, no one knew whither. after a long search the captain found her, and at great risk took her across a slough to the mainland in a canoe, which nearly sank before the shore was reached. noot afterward went to st. paul and purchased eighty acres of land, now in the heart of the city. he was a member of the house, fourth and fifth minnesota legislatures. at present he resides at big lake, sherburne county. jared benson.--mr. benson was the son of jared and sallie taft benson, and was born in blackstone. massachusetts, nov. , . the farm on which he was born was purchased of the indians by his great, great grandfather. his paternal grandfather, benoni benson, and his maternal grandfather, ebenezer taft, served in the revolutionary war, the former as a lieutenant. jared benson, his father, served in the war of . mr. benson had a fair common school education and occupied himself in farming until , when he joined the corps of engineers who were locating the providence & worcester railroad. he was afterward agent for the company and superintendent of transportation. in he came to minnesota, locating at anoka and engaging chiefly in farming and stock raising. he has served his townsmen as justice of the peace and county commissioner. for some years he has been a director of the st. paul & pacific railroad. he served as clerk of the house of representatives in - , and was afterward member and speaker of the house for three years, including the extra session of . he was revenue collector for his district in - , and was again elected to the legislature in . he was married to martha taft, of mendon, massachusetts, feb. , . they have five children. james c. frost was born in rumford, oxford county, maine, in . he was raised on a farm. on reaching his majority he came to jefferson county, wisconsin, where he lived fourteen years. in he came to st. anthony and in to anoka. he held the office of postmaster several years and was again reappointed in ; served fifteen years as sheriff and as a member of the legislature in - . he was in the employ of the st. paul & pacific railroad company for nine years. he was married in and has a family of eight daughters. a. j. mckenney, born in lowell, maine, feb. , , came to st. anthony in and followed lumbering until , when he came to ramsey, anoka county, and located in section as a farmer. he has been a prominent citizen. john henry batzle was born in wurtemburg, germany, in ; came to america in ; lived in new york until , when he came to minnesota and located in what is now the town of columbus, anoka county, where he engaged in farming. he has been a member of the methodist church for twenty-five years. he is in every way much esteemed as a citizen. he was married in , but has no children. john r. bean was born at salmon falls, new hampshire, april , ; came to st. anthony in and to ramsey, anoka county, in , where he made a farm in section . he says this was the first farming done in anoka county. from to he lived alternately at his home in st. anthony and his farm in ramsey. in he removed to anoka city, where he is engaged in lumbering. william staples was born in , in york county, maine, where he was married in . he came to st. anthony in . he has lived in the town of grow, of which he was one of the founders, for many years. he is a farmer and brickmason. abraham mccormack fridley was born may , , at corning, steuben county, new york. his parents were pennsylvanians, of german descent. he received a common school education. at the age of twenty-one years he was appointed deputy sheriff of steuben county, and was afterward collector of canal tolls at corning. in april, , he was appointed by president fillmore agent for the winnebago indians then at long prairie, todd county. in that year he was also admitted to practice law. in he removed to st. paul and was elected sheriff of ramsey county. the next year he removed to st. anthony falls and was elected to the house of the territorial legislature. a little later he removed to manomin, now fridley. he was elected a representative in the legislatures of - - and . for many years he cultivated a large farm at becker. for ten years he has been in the employ of the manitoba railroad as land agent. he is a democrat, and in was delegate to the conventions at charleston and baltimore. mr. fridley died march , , leaving a widow and three sons, henry c., frank and david h. capt. james starkey was born in england in . he came to america in and located in st. paul in . he removed to the town of columbus, anoka county, in , and was active in promoting its interests. his first enterprise, the building up of the village of columbus, was not successful. in , by order of gov. medary, he commanded a military expedition against the chippewas at sunrise prairie, the object being to compel them to return to their reservation, an expedition attended with some tragical results, as elsewhere narrated. capt. starkey took part in the civil war as captain of a cavalry company. he was the first to survey a road through the country lying between st. paul and lake superior. he was a representative of the first state legislature. since capt. starkey has resided at st. paul, and is at present prominent as a citizen and as an official in west st. paul. sherburne county. prior to its organization, sherburne was part of benton county. it was named in honor of judge moses sherburne, an appointee to the bench of the supreme court of minnesota territory. the county is bounded on the north by benton, on the east by anoka and isanti counties, and on the south by the mississippi river. it is somewhat irregularly timbered with pine and hardwood, interspersed with oak openings, rolling prairie lands and natural meadows. the surface is generally undulating. a prominent ridge of high land, from three to five miles wide, extends from elk river in a northeasterly direction into anoka county. the county is well watered by tributaries of the mississippi, elk and st. louis rivers, and has besides many clear and sparkling lakes. the soil is mostly sandy loam with clay subsoil, and valuable granite quarries are found in the northern tier of towns. david faribault was the first settler or trader, he having established a post on the elk river in , where he made a garden and raised potatoes. in september, , h. m. rice and s. p. folsom bought faribault's improvements, and folsom moved his family to the place and built a log cabin on what is now auditor's addition to elk river village. he was succeeded in the ownership by pierre bottineau. the county was organized in , under territorial law. the governor, willis a. gorman, appointed j. h. stevenson, ephriam nickerson and eli j. cutter commissioners (stevenson being chairman); eli houghton, treasurer; h. j. putnam, register of deeds; andrew boyington, judge of probate; john g. jamieson, county attorney; orlando bailey, sheriff. the first commissioners' meeting was held at the house of joseph brown, at the village of humboldt, which was made the county seat and so remained until , when it was removed to elk river village. the county was attached to benton for judicial purposes until . prior to this mr. brown's house was used for county commissioners' meetings and for courtrooms until burned down some years later, when the commissioners met at the house of john e. putnam. a court house was built at elk river on lots donated by j. q. a. nickerson, the village donating $ , and the county the remainder necessary for the building. prior to the formation of the state government, the county was divided into election precincts. the first term of district court was held at humboldt in december, ; judge c. e. vanderburgh, presiding; j. e. putnam acting as clerk. the first commissioners who held their meeting at elk river were h. houlton, chairman; a. boyington and o. bailey. the first meetings were held at the house of j. q. a. nickerson. in the st. paul, minneapolis & manitoba railroad was completed through the county on a line parallel with the general course of the mississippi river. the north pacific railroad, since built, runs parallel on the same grade. the depots were built upon the same plan and placed on opposite sides of the two tracks. the stations are elk river, big lake, becker, clear lake, and east st. cloud. the manitoba has a branch line from elk river to princeton and milacca, built in . the first deed recorded was transcribed from the benton county records, transfers of property from james beatty to richard chute and david olmstead, and bears date of july , . towns. the towns in sherburne are: baldwin, deriving its name from f. eugene baldwin, an old citizen; big lake, from the lake on which located; becker, from hon. g. l. becker, of st. paul; blue hill, from a high hill in the town; clear lake, from a lake of that name; elk river, from the river on the shore of which it is located; haven, from hon. john ormsby haven, who represented his district in the state senate in - ; livonia, from the christian name of the wife of an old citizen; orrock, from reuben orrock, a pioneer, originally from scotland; and palmer, from dr. palmer, of sauk centre. elk river was the first town organized, and included the whole county. the first election was held sept. , , at which the following board of officers was elected: moderator, alden b. heath; supervisors, j. g. jamieson, alden b. heath, j. q. a. nickerson; clerk, george h. davis. villages of sherburne county. orono, a post office, was established at orono in . the office was merged into the elk river post office in . this post office, with the mills erected in , became the nucleus of the elk river settlement, which some years later became elk river village, within the corporate limits of which orono is now situated. orono was surveyed and platted may, ; ard godfrey, proprietor. elk river, located originally about a mile below orono, was not platted as a village until . j. q. a. and julia nickerson were the proprietors. it is on the east bank of the mississippi, at its junction with elk river, above which it now extends a distance of two miles. it has a pleasant location. it was incorporated in , with c. s. wheaton, president; w. t. struble, recorder; n. k. whittemore, h. p. burrell and l. pollard, commissioners. elk river affords a fine water power with ten feet head. mills were erected here in . a great fire in may, , destroyed mill property valued at $ , . since the fire a flour mill with a capacity of barrels a day has been completed at a cost of $ , . a saw mill is also in process of construction. the village has an elevator with a capacity of , bushels, town halls, churches, episcopal, free will baptist and congregational; a first class school building, with rooms for four departments; a school building at orono, with two departments; and two railroad depots, built at a cost of $ , . in june, , a private bank was incorporated as the bank of elk river. east st. cloud, in the town of haven, is a thriving village. it has one of the best granite quarries in the state. the state, in , located here its reformatory school, receiving a donation of two hundred acres of land, covered with gray and variegated granite. the village was surveyed and platted in august, ; geo. f. brott & co., proprietors. clear lake was surveyed and platted march , ; alanson potter and wife, proprietors. becker was surveyed and platted dec. , ; j. freeman and h. c. fridley, proprietors. mr. vadnais was the first settler, in . big lake, originally humboldt village, is located on elk river, ten miles above its junction with the mississippi. its first settler was joseph brown, a veteran pioneer, but not to be confounded with the invincible joe r. brown, elsewhere referred to. mr. brown came here in , and made substantial improvements. he died in . his family still reside here. james ely and newell houghton also settled here in . mr. houghton was killed at the new ulm massacre in . john quincy adams nickerson was born in new salem, franklin county, maine, march , . he received an academic education; taught school and followed farming in maine. in he came to st. anthony falls, and in settled at elk river, which then contained but one house, a hewed log structure, which he, in company with b. f. hildreth, purchased for a hotel. the house has been enlarged from time to time, and has been continuously under the charge of mr. nickerson. he has besides employed much of his time in farming and lumbering, and has dealt in village lots. he was appointed postmaster at an early day. he has filled various responsible offices, among them that of county treasurer and town and county supervisor. he was married to julia a. farnham, of st. anthony falls, oct. , . they have five children. henry bittner was born in bavaria in ; came to america in his boyhood; enlisted in the united states army in ; served in the mexican war; was present at the battle of buena vista, and when the american forces were surrounded performed a daring feat, carrying a dispatch from gen. taylor through the mexican lines to an american fort. he was a target for the bullets of the mexican army, but arrived at his destination severely wounded. he was discharged on account of his wounds. in he came to clear lake and made him a home. he offered himself as a volunteer during the late civil war, but was not received on account of age and disability. he died at his home at clear lake in . francis de lille, of french descent, was born in canada in . he came with his family to st. anthony in , and in to elk river, where he occupied the first house built in the lower town. he settled on a farm, where he lived the remainder of his life. he died april , , under peculiar circumstances. he was a devout catholic, and died suddenly in the church while kneeling during a part of the service. his widow and youngest son reside at the old homestead. mrs. de lille, formerly catharine queenan, of ireland, is one of the oldest settlers of sherburne county. she has eight children living, mary f., married and living in dakota; frank, agnes; elisabeth, married to peter trump of taylor's falls; harriet, wife of joseph holt, of taylor's falls; joseph f., rosanna and sarah, all married. howard m. atkins was born in new sharon, franklin county, maine, may , . his father was stricken down by lightning, leaving him at the age of thirteen to assist in taking care of the family. howard was near his father and was struck senseless by the same flash that deprived him of a father. recovering, he set himself earnestly and seriously to the duties of life, performed his allotted tasks about the household, and succeeded in obtaining a good high school education. he came to princeton, mille lacs county, in , studied law and was admitted to practice in mille lacs county in . subsequently he practiced law five years in st. cloud. he came to elk river in . he has held official positions in mille lacs, stearns and sherburne counties. mr. atkins has acquired an honorable position through his own exertions and richly deserves the respect of his fellow citizens. he was married in to virginia sinclair, of illinois. they have two sons and four daughters. b. f. hildreth was born in milford, maine, march, . he learned the trade of a blacksmith and came to st. anthony in , and the year following did part of the crew work of the first steamer launched on the mississippi above the falls. since then he has engaged chiefly in lumbering and farming. in he was married to m. e. farnham, of st. anthony. he removed to elk river in . samuel hayden was born oct. , , at madison, maine. he came to livonia, sherburne county, in . he has a family of four sons and three daughters, residents of minnesota. his brother, the hon. wentworth hayden, was a member of the constitutional convention of . the writer of these sketches had known mr. samuel hayden in early life, and distinctly remembered seeing him the winter of , driving an ox team in the pineries on dead river, maine. he was then a young man of twenty-one, and the writer was a boy of ten. sixty years later they met in sherburne county, and the writer recognized in the aged man of eighty-one years the young man of twenty-one, though for the moment unable to call his name. it is seldom that memory bridges so wide a chasm. joseph jerome settled in the town of haven in , and is therefore among the first of the pioneers. in he sold his property to samuel sturgis and removed to michigan. joshua o. cater came from stafford county, new hampshire, and was one of the earliest settlers of the town of haven, where he still lives. j. f. bean also came from new hampshire to sherburne county, and is now a resident of livonia, and postmaster at lake fremont. j. h. felch, of maine, an early settler of livonia, is now living at elk river. james brady came to palmer in . he died about . joshua briggs settled in palmer in , and died there in . robert orrock, for whom the town of orrock was named, died at his home, at a good old age, january, . john g. jamieson died at elk river in . a. b. heath removed to oregon in , where he still lives. dr. b. r. palmer, for whom the town of palmer was named, was a resident of sauk centre and died there in . judge moses sherburne, for whom the county was named, died at elk river in . chas. f. george, who settled in santiago in , is at present chairman of the board of county commissioners. royal george, a pioneer of the same date, returned to vermont, where he died in . w. l. babcock, a merchant of santiago, still resides here. chapter xvii. benton county. at the organization of minnesota territory three counties were created, of which benton was one. its eastern boundary followed the course of rum river from its mouth to its junction with the west branch and thence a line due north to the mississippi river. the boundary line upon the west followed the windings of the mississippi down to its junction with rum river, making a county large and irregular in outline, extending from north to south about one hundred miles, and about forty at its widest point from east to west. the formation of new counties since that time has left it with less than eleven townships lying east of the mississippi river and bounded on the north by morrison, on the east by mille lacs, and on the south by sherburne counties. the soil is diversified. there is black sandy loam in the plains and a black vegetable mould in the timber, with clay subsoils. it is a fair agricultural district, having groves of pine and hardwood in the east and natural meadows, prairies and oak openings in the central and western portions. it is well watered by the mississippi and its tributaries, elk, little rock and platte rivers. it has some fine lakes, of which mayhew, briggs and little rock are the largest. a granite formation underlies most of this county and crops out in many places, furnishing valuable quarries. the granite is plain and variegated and is being worked and shipped extensively. near the village of watab there is a rich upheaval. the st. paul custom house is made of the watab granite. the northern pacific railway passes through this county parallel with the channel of the mississippi river. the manitoba, st. cloud & hinckley branch passes through the southern tier of towns. the organized towns are alberta, gilmanton, glendorado, granite lodge, maywood, minden, sauk rapids, st. george, and watab. the villages are east st. cloud, foley, oak grove, rice's, and watab. the first settlers were philip beaupre, in ; david gilman, in ; jeremiah russell, wm. h. wood, james beatty, ellis kling, wm. smith, and j. c. mayhew, in . sauk rapids was made the county seat, then watab, then sauk rapids. the first board of officers, qualified jan. , , were: commissioners, wm. a. aitkin, chairman; joseph brown and james beatty; assessors, truman a. warren and reuben m. richardson; attorney, w. d. phillips. the voting precincts were at sauk rapids, swan river and crow wing. the judges of election were: for sauk rapids, j. russell, wm. sturgis and curtis bellows; for swan river, philip beaupre, james green and duncan stewart; for crow wing, allen morrison, wm. morrison and sylvester stateler. the first election was held at pierre bottineau's house, now in sherburne county. george egbert and thomas holmes were judges of election. the first court in the county was held nov. , ; bradley b. meeker, presiding. david gilman was the first sheriff, john c. hawley the second. the first deed recorded was from james hitchins to wm. f. coblett. it bore date of oct. , . taylor dudley was register of deeds. the land conveyed was a tract lying at the foot of sauk rapids, being a land claim of one hundred and sixty acres, purchased from calvin potter. sauk rapids. the site of the village of sauk rapids was judiciously chosen. it slopes gently to the river's east bank, giving a pleasant frontage to the rapids. philip beaupre came here first in . his son, william p., was the first white child here, born may , . geo. o. sweet was the second, born aug. , . several indian traders located here and at watab. following mr. beaupre came t. a. holmes, james beatty, j. russell, calvin potter, james hitchins, curtis bellows, and charles webb. the first plat of sauk rapids was made and recorded in . the proprietors were j. russell, g. m. sweet and s. van nest. the surveyor was c. b. chapman. the village was incorporated in . the commissioners appointed under the general act to effect the organization were alphonso j. demenles, erasmus cross, b. k. knowlton. a wagon bridge built across the mississippi at this point cost $ , . it was greatly damaged by a storm, and partially destroyed by the cyclone of . the dam across the mississippi at sauk rapids was built in at a cost of $ , . the east wing is owned by the commodore davidson estate; the west, by the sauk rapids manufacturing company. the rapids are formed by the eruption of granite ledges across the channel of the river. a flour mill built here with a capacity of three hundred barrels per day was totally destroyed by the cyclone of april , , which was one of the most destructive on record. the estimated loss in sauk rapids was $ , , of which $ , was made up by voluntary contributions from st. paul, minneapolis and other portions of the state. the public buildings, including the court house, school buildings and several churches, were destroyed, together with many fine stores and dwellings. since the cyclone the village has been handsomely rebuilt. a new court house has replaced the old one at a cost of $ , , a new school house has been built at a cost of $ , --a model building with rooms for five departments. there are five new church buildings, an episcopal, congregational, methodist and two lutheran. watab. watab appears to have been a noted indian trading post from to . asa white, d. gilman, c. w. borup, n. myrick, gen. lowry, and others were located, or had stations here. watab was for a short time the county seat of benton county. a bridge was once built across the mississippi here, but it has disappeared. the village site was surveyed and platted, and a post office established in . p. lamb was postmaster. a steam saw mill was erected here, but was afterward removed. the first improved farm in benton county was located in the vicinity. david gilman, benjamin bright and george goodhue were early settlers. philip beaupre was born in lower canada, in . as his name indicates, he is of french descent. he received a french education. he came west in ; entered the employ of the fur company in , and located at sauk rapids in . when he arrived there were no white inhabitants, save indian traders, on the mississippi north of st. anthony. mr. beaupre built a log house in , and was continuously engaged in trade until succeeded by his sons. he assisted in forming the county, town and village organizations, filling many offices of trust and honor. in he served as judge of the probate court, and since as collector of customs at pembina. in he was married to teresa de noyes, of st. louis, and has a family of seven sons and six daughters, all residing in benton county. david gilman.--hon. david gilman, of watab, was born april , , at saratoga, new york. he was left fatherless at the age of six months, and his mother subsequently placed him in the family of a neighbor to be brought up and cared for until the age of twenty-one. as he grew older he was not pleased with this arrangement, and at the age of fourteen left his home to adventure for himself. his opportunities for securing an education were limited. in he came to michigan. in he married nancy w. lamb, of woodstock, vermont. in he came to watab, minnesota, and made him a permanent home, making himself a useful, influential and public spirited citizen, filling many positions of trust in his town, county and state governments. amongst the offices filled by him were those of deputy united states marshal, member of the second territorial legislature, and of the constitutional convention. he was postmaster at watab from the establishment of the office in until , when he died, greatly lamented by his friends and honored by all who knew him. mrs. gilman and four children survive him. james beatty was born in fairfield county, ohio, april , . when fourteen years of age he went to cass county, michigan. he farmed for the winnebago indians near fort atkinson, iowa, for several years, and coming to minnesota in located at sauk rapids, which he made his permanent home. he has been engaged as indian trader, hotel keeper, merchant and farmer. he was a member of the minnesota territorial legislatures of , and . he was married to eliza foscet, of new york, in . they have three children living. ellis kling was born in dauphin county, pennsylvania, oct. , . he was brought up as a farmer, and has made farming his occupation through life. he came to sauk rapids in . in he was married to lucy lewis, of belle prairie. they have five sons and one daughter. george w. benedict.--mr. benedict was born at rochester, new york, in . he served an apprenticeship to a printer in canada for five years. in he was married to anna cronk, a native of prince edward county, canada. for four years he published the tecumseh (mich.) _herald_ and in , having removed to sauk rapids, established the _frontiersman_ for jeremiah russell. this paper he conducted for three years. he then conducted the _new era_ for one year. in he established the sauk rapids _sentinel_, which he conducted four years, when he started the alexandria _post_ and also became a member of a company that published the st. cloud _press_, with which he was connected one year. in he re-established the sauk rapids _sentinel_, which he sold to w. l. nieman, but repurchased after the cyclone of . mr. benedict was in the united states revenue service ten years, and served as a member of the state senate one term. j. q. a. wood was born in chichester, new hampshire, in . he graduated at union college, new york, in ; studied law with president franklin pierce; was admitted to practice in , and made his home at sauk rapids in , which has been his home ever since, with the exception of some years spent in kentucky as editor of the _southern kentucky shield_. this paper was suppressed in . returning to sauk rapids in , he engaged in the practice of law, in which he has since continued. during this period he served eleven years as county attorney, and also a term as probate judge. mr. wood was seriously injured in the great cyclone, having been buried in the debris of the court house, from which, with great difficulty, he extricated himself. mr. wood is a poetical writer of some reputation, many of his productions having been received with great favor. among them we may mention "father is growing old, john," "ode to new hampshire," and "the wine of cyprus." he has one son, a resident of dakota, and one daughter, the wife of d. c. roberts of west superior. william h. wood was born in london, new hampshire, feb. , . when he was fourteen years of age his father removed to tecumseh, michigan. he graduated at dartmouth college in and afterward took a course in union college, new york, graduating in . he then returned to tecumseh, michigan, where he studied law with judge stacy. in he was admitted to the bar in lenawee county, michigan. during the presidential campaign of the year following he edited a paper in kentucky, the _rough and ready_, advocating the claims of gen. taylor for the presidency. in he located in greensburg, kentucky, and in was married to a lady of refinement, known to the literary world under the _nom de plume_ of "minnie mary lee." in he removed to sauk rapids, minnesota. he was there editor of the pioneer paper, the _frontiersman_. he afterward owned, and with his gifted wife edited, the _new era_, in which he was an ardent supporter of mr. lincoln for the presidency in . meanwhile he practiced his profession and held the office of county attorney for many years. when the land office was established at sauk rapids he was appointed receiver and served a number of years. he was a member of the first state legislature. in he was elected president of the new athens college, greensburg, kentucky, and served a short time, when he contracted the disease that afterward terminated his earthly career. mr. wood was a man of more than ordinary ability, an eloquent speaker, a fluent and gifted writer, whose influence will long be felt. he left a widow and three children. mrs. w. h. wood has been a liberal contributor to magazines and the author of several volumes, of which a list is here appended: "the heart of myrrha lake;" "into the light of catholicity;" "hubert's wife;" "the brown house at duffield;" "strayed from the fold;" "three times three; or, basil, beatrice, ethel;" "story of annette;" "hazel green's rival." a. de lacy wood, son of mrs. w. h. wood, edits the two harbor _iron post_, in lake county. p. h. wood, second son of mrs. w. h. wood, edits the sauk rapids _free press_. rev. sherman hall was born in weathersfield, vermont; was educated at exeter academy, dartmouth college and andover theological seminary. he was married to betsey parker in , and ordained the same year as a missionary to the chippewa indians at la pointe. with them he remained until , when he transferred his residence to sauk rapids and organized a congregational church, of which he continued pastor until his death, sept. , . mr. hall made a translation of parts of the bible into the ojibway tongue. he was greatly beloved amongst his people for his firm, christian demeanor and publicly recognized as a man of integrity and sound judgment. he served the people of benton county as judge of probate court and county superintendent of schools. jeremiah russell was born in eaton, madison county, new york, feb. , . he received a common school and academic education, and learned to set type in the office of the chautauqua _gazette_. he subsequently taught school and worked for awhile in printing offices. removing to palmyra, he clerked in a store several years. in he came to michigan, and thence to the lake superior country, where he superintended a copper mine for a couple of years, at left hand river, near the head of the lake. in he came to fort snelling, and in accompanied frank steele and others to st. croix falls, and engaged in building a saw mill. in he went to pokegama mission as government farmer and blacksmith. about , at the closing up of the pokegama mission in consequence of indian disturbances, he purchased the old connor trading post and farm. in , with elam greely, he went down the st. croix and up the mississippi and rum rivers in a birch canoe, exploring for pine timber. they found rum river blockaded at one place a distance of three-quarters of a mile, with drifts or rafts of trees, consolidated and held together by the roots of grasses and water willows, the accumulations apparently of ages. around this raft they made a portage, and ascended a tributary of rum river to its source, thence down the kanabec or snake river to pokegama. in mr. russell came to crow wing, minnesota, as agent for borup & oakes, indian traders and fur dealers. in the autumn of he established himself at a point two miles above sauk rapids, and opened up a farm of one hundred and thirty acres. at the end of four years he moved down the river and made a land claim on the west side, including the water power of sauk rapids. he owned an interest also in the water power on the east side. in he was one of the company that surveyed and platted the village of sauk rapids. he established the pioneer newspaper, the sauk rapids _frontiersman_. mr. russell for several years held the office of county auditor and treasurer, and in was elected to the territorial legislature. his name appears in the list of members, but he was present only at the opening sessions, and voted for but a single measure. he had told his constituents before his election that he would not serve. at this time he was democratic in politics but in later life voted the republican ticket. mr. russell possessed a warm, generous nature, combined with integrity of character, which gained for him the love and esteem of his many friends. ever ready to extend a willing hand to those in need, and, as far as lay in his power, to assist those in distress, he will ever be remembered with kindly feelings by all who knew him. though exposed to all the temptations and vicissitudes of an early settler's life, coming in contact with all kinds of social conditions, he never departed from the path of christian rectitude, and those with whom he came in contact will ever remember him for his kind heartedness and gentlemanly bearing. sept. , , he was united in marriage to miss sophia oakes (daughter of the late chas. h. oakes), who survives him. seven children were born unto them, but only three are now alive. these are mrs. w. l. nieman, miss julia a. and mr. j. a. russell. mr. russell died at his home in sauk rapids in . edward oscar hamlin was born at bethany, wayne county, pennsylvania, june , . he received his preparatory education at his native place; entered hamilton college, clinton, new york, in , and graduated in , third in his class, and in three years received the degree of a.m. he read law first at wilkesbarre, pennsylvania, with hon. geo. w. woodward (afterward one of the judges of the supreme court of pennsylvania); at honesdale, pennsylvania, later with earl wheeler, esq., and was admitted to the bar sept. , . after practicing for two years at honesdale, he decided to go west, and in settled in sauk rapids. he was admitted to practice in the territorial courts, and in was admitted to practice by the supreme court. judge hamlin was elected the first mayor of the city of st. cloud. he was nominated by the democratic party for governor, and subsequently for judge of the supreme court. he was also, in , appointed by gov. ramsey "a regent of the university of the state of minnesota," and was subsequently an efficient and zealous member of the state board of normal instruction. soon after the outbreak of the rebellion, in , gov. ramsey tendered him the commission of major of the seventh regiment, minnesota volunteers, but his eyesight being defective, he was obliged to decline it. in judge hamlin was chosen by the democratic party as one of the delegates to the democratic national convention. he was appointed as one of the committee on platform, and openly denounced, with three others, the platform before it was adopted, because it declared the war for the union a failure. judge hamlin was a war democrat, and hung out the stars and stripes over his residence in sauk rapids, the first one in that town to do so. in , being an only child and yielding to the solicitations of his parents, judge hamlin returned to his native county and opened an office in honesdale. after a short residence there he removed to bethany, which has since been his home. he continued the practice of his profession in honesdale until june, , when failing health compelled him to retire. judge hamlin has been twice married. his first wife was mary a., daughter of judge eldred, who for a quarter of a century graced the bench of pennsylvania. she died at st. cloud, sept. , . in october, , judge hamlin married ella f., daughter of e. b. strong, esq., for years clerk of the district court of stearns county. morrison county. morrison county is somewhat irregular in outline. it is bounded on the north by crow wing and cass, on the east by mille lacs, on the south by benton and stearns, on the west by stearns and todd counties. the portion east of the mississippi originally belonged to benton county, and the portion on the west side to todd county. it contains , square miles. the eastern part is well covered with pine and hardwood forests. the west and central portions consist of oak openings and brush prairies. the groves are interspersed with poplar. the surface is generally level, but is well drained by the mississippi and its tributaries, mostly small streams. it has some fine lakes in the northern and central parts. the soil is well adapted to farming. a granite range, an extension of the range of sauk rapids and st. cloud, passes through the county. william nicholson was probably the first settler in this county. he first came to swan river in , in company with ten other men. they forded the mississippi near the mouth of swan river, made a raft and floated down the river a few miles, where they abandoned it on account of low water, and returned south, whence they came. the next summer nicholson returned with twenty-two men, crossed the river at the same place, and cut a road through to the winnebago agency at long prairie. returning the same year to the crossing, he found wm. aiken had made a claim and was building a hotel and store on the east bank of the river. mr. nicholson remained some years in the vicinity, but is now a resident of little falls. wm. aiken permanently located at swan river in , one year after nicholson's arrival at that point. he died in , aged about sixty-five years. he had two indian wives. they quarreled and fought savagely at the funeral as to which was entitled to the position of chief mourner, wife number one coming off victorious. james green made a squatter's claim in , and built a saw mill on the east side of the mississippi by the island at the falls. wm. knowles located at the mouth of rabbit river in . john stillwell came to swan river in . he was a carpenter and worked at his trade until , when he went into the hotel business. he now resides at little falls. he and nicholson are the only old settlers of swan river remaining in the county. at the organization of the county in , little falls, located on the mississippi a short distance above swan river, became the county seat. the year before and the two years following were years of wild speculation. the chief ambition of the speculators was to found a city. during these years twenty-four village or town plats were recorded in the office of the register of deeds in morrison. not all, however, were located within the bounds of the county, some being platted on unsurveyed government lands. of these towns, the only one remaining, or of note, is fergus falls, otter tail county, platted by a company from little falls. of the towns located in morrison county, every one vanished except little falls, though swan river, belle prairie and granite city kept up an appearance of prosperity for a time. the early history of morrison county is enlivened by many thrilling incidents of indian warfare, chiefly of contests between the sioux and chippewas. the sioux had claimed the territory from time immemorial, but over a hundred years ago the chippewas had driven them westward across the mississippi and were in possession of the soil. the tribal hostility of the two races continued to manifest itself in predatory and retaliatory raids, and from these the early settlers were often sufferers. nathan richardson, the historian of morrison county, an authority to whom we are greatly indebted, says that the country was acknowledged to be chippewa ground before and during the settlement by the whites, but that the sioux made frequent raids through the counties in parties of from five to twenty-five, their principal object being to possess themselves of chippewa scalps. the chippewas retaliated by pursuing the sioux into their own prescribed limits. mr. richardson avers that the chippewas were seldom known to treat the white settlers uncivilly, while the sioux would kill stock to supply their wants, for which the settlers were left without compensation from indians or government. the winnebagoes were for some years located within the bounds of todd and morrison counties. in gen. fletcher removed them from fort atkinson, iowa, to long prairie, west side of the mississippi; but although the agency was located at long prairie, the indians occupied the swan river valley within the present limits of morrison and todd counties for a period of seven years, where they engaged partly in hunting and partly in farming, having about two hundred acres under cultivation, when they became dissatisfied and were removed to the blue earth country. when the winnebago indians were brought to long prairie and the swan river valley, in , the government built fort ripley on the west bank of the mississippi, about twenty miles above the mouth of swan river. the government still owns the fort and reservation around it, and keeps a garrison there. fort ripley, however, has other associations than those connected with the winnebagoes. it was necessary to place a force here during the indian outbreak in , the object being to overawe and hold in check the chippewas, who were more than suspected of an intention to make common cause with the sioux in their warfare against the whites. there the seventh regiment, minnesota volunteers, had its headquarters for a time. morrison county was named in honor of hon. allen w. morrison, who came to minnesota some time in the ' s, and was prominent in the early history of the territory. it was organized april , , by the election of the following county officers: commissioners, wm. trask, elliott j. kidder and w. w. stebbins; register of deeds and clerk of board of commissioners, nathan richardson; judge of probate, james fergus; sheriff, jonathan pugh; district attorney, w. b. fairbanks; assessors, w. b. tuttle and john fry. the first term of court was held may , ; judge moses sherburne, presiding. the first deed recorded was dated june , , conveying from william shelafoo to louis robair the northeast quarter of the southwest quarter, and lots , and of section , township , range . morrison county is subdivided into the following towns: agram, belle prairie, buckman, bellevue, culdrum, elmdale, green prairie, little falls, morrill, motley, parker, pierz, pike creek, ripley, swan river, and two rivers. little falls village, the county seat of morrison county, is located on the east bank of the mississippi river, in sections , , and of township , range . it derives its name from a rapid in the mississippi river, formed by the extension across the river of the slate stone ledges of the st. louis. the site is a prairie, sloping gently to the water's edge. the first survey was made in , by s. m. putnam. the village grew rapidly from the first, and in the best lots were selling for $ , each. previous to the only houses in the place were two cabins, a frame building in which e. j. kidder lived, and a school house. two hotels were built that year, one by joseph batters, the other by w. b. fairbanks and nathan richardson. the first settlers were the kidders, fairbanks, batters, richardson, james green, william sturgis, william butler, and o. a. churchill. james green came as early as , and took a squatter's claim on the east bank, including the water power, and built a saw mill, but soon after died, and the property passed into the hands of h. m. rice and capt. todd, who in sold their right to wm. sturgis. in john m. kidder pre-empted the mill power, transferring it to the little falls company, consisting of wm. sturgis and calvin tuttle, organized in for the improvement of the falls. this company purchased about , acres of adjoining land from the government, and in merged into a stock company with a capital of $ , , of which the original company retained one-half, the remaining half being converted into cash. the stock rose in value at one time two hundred and fifty per cent. the company built a new dam and mills, but the revenue did not keep the property in good condition after the expenditures. these valuable improvements, including the dam and mills, were all swept away by high water in ; the firm became bankrupt, and the valuable power became nearly worthless and entirely useless, until , when a new company, known as the little falls water power company, was formed with a paid up capital of $ , , which is distributed among eastern and western capitalists. the company is now constructing very extensive works, the power of which will have a head, or fall, of twenty feet, thus making it the largest water power, next to minneapolis, to be found in the whole northwest. the dam, now about completed, has cost about $ , . so thoroughly convinced are the people of morrison county of the great future before it, that, by a majority of over to , they voted a subscription of $ , in per cent bonds as a bonus to be delivered to the company upon the completion of the work. the village of little falls also entered into a contract with the company, agreeing to pay annually a sum of money equal to the taxes imposed upon that corporation, and also to exempt from taxation any manufactory using the water power for a period of five years. the improvements under process of construction consist, first, of a dam across the entire river, resting, however, against the head of mill island; second, a canal on the west side, starting from a point opposite the head of mill island, and extending , feet down stream. this canal is feet wide and feet deep, is lined with a retaining wall, and provided with head gates at the upper end and with a waste way at the lower end; third, a wheel house, races, and, if found desirable, a wire rope tower for transmitting power to mill island and to the east shore. basing the rental of this power on that of the water power at lowell, massachusetts, it would be worth $ , per annum. the officers of the company are w. h. breyfogle, of louisville, kentucky, president; m. m. williams, of little falls, secretary and treasurer. little falls was incorporated as a village in , louis houde president of the board. the improvement of the water power has given a strong impulse to the prosperity of the village. it numbers now amongst its public buildings a court house, school house having rooms for six grades, two catholic churches, one congregational, one episcopal and one methodist church. in belle prairie, four miles distant, there is also a catholic church, school and a nunnery. a bridge, built at a cost of $ , , crosses the mississippi at this point. the bridge is feet in length. the little falls & dakota railroad, a branch of the northern pacific, is finished from little falls to morris in stevens county, a distance of miles. in addition to the mills connected with the water power there is also a steam saw mill. royalton village is located in an oak grove on the northern pacific railroad, twenty miles above sauk rapids, and ten below little falls near the south line of morrison county. it includes some lands in benton county. platte river flows through the village and furnishes a water power of feet head, improved by a dam, supplying a flour mill which has a capacity of barrels per day, and a saw mill with a capacity of , feet. there is feet fall on the platte within five miles of royalton below, and feet above the village, yet unimproved. james hill, of baldwin, st. croix county, wisconsin, with putney and nobles erected the flour mill, john d. logan, the proprietor, having donated the water power and grounds for manufacturing purposes. mr. logan has a steam saw mill with a capacity of , feet per day. the platte is spanned by an iron bridge. the village has, in addition to its mills, a weekly newspaper, a large elevator, a good graded school with six departments, and three churches, episcopal, presbyterian and methodist. it was surveyed and platted in by john d. logan, and incorporated in . the first officers were: president, j. d. logan; recorder, john holmes; trustees. j. c. wakefield, j. c. higgins, r. lambert; treasurer, g. e. putney; justices, robert brown, wm. jones; constables, wm. roller, c. o. brannen. peter roy, a mixed blood of french and chippewa parentage, was born in rainy lake, in . he was educated at la pointe, wisconsin. at the age of twenty-one he came to the agency at long lake, where he served as interpreter until , when he was elected to the territorial legislature. he opened a farm at belle prairie in ; became a member of the state legislatures of and . in he removed to little falls, where he resided until his death, in . he was a man of large frame and of generous impulses, liberal and open-handed, even to his own pecuniary disadvantage. wm. sturgis came to this county from big meadow, sherburne county, minnesota, in , and located at little falls, where he put a ferry across the mississippi. he also laid out a town and built a saw and grist mill at the mouth of little elk river. he was a member of the territorial council from crow wing and sauk rapids precincts in and ; of the territorial house in , and of the constitutional convention, democratic wing, in . some years later he removed, first to montana, and then to sturgis, michigan. james fergus was born in the parish of glassford, lanarkshire, scotland, oct. , . his parents were well-to-do farmers, and gave him a good education along with excellent moral and religious training. in his youth he was noted for his thoroughness in whatever work he undertook, and his fondness for good books. at the age of nineteen years he came to america to improve his fortunes, locating first in canada, where he spent three years, and learned the trade of a millwright. becoming involved in some political troubles just before the outbreak of the papineau rebellion, he left canada for the united states, and spent a couple of years in green bay and milwaukee, wisconsin, and at chicago and buffalo grove, illinois, going thence to iowa, and thence to moline, illinois, where he found employment in the machine shops and foundries of buford, sears & wheelock. in he removed to little falls, and in company with c. a. tuttle built a dam across the mississippi and platted the village. he subsequently owned the site of fergus falls, now a thriving city, that has done well in assuming his name. in he drove his own team from little falls to bannock, then in idaho, now in montana territory. he became prominent in territorial affairs; was influential in the organization of the new county of madison, and held many positions of trust and responsibility. he was the commissioner appointed for madison county, served two terms in the montana legislature, and was a member of the constitutional convention of . at one time he lived in lewis and clark counties; he now resides in meagher county, near fort maginnis, where he is engaged in stock raising. his main characteristics are an aptitude for mechanical enterprises, a sturdy independence of thought, a strict integrity of purpose, and an ardent love of study and good books. he is a typical pioneer, and in the mellow light of his declining days has the respect and love of his contemporaries to a remarkable degree. he is the first president of the montana pioneer association, a position which he worthily fills. mr. fergus was married march , , to parnelia dillin, of jefferson county, new york. mrs. fergus died oct. , . he has one son and three daughters, the latter married and living in montana. nathan richardson was born in wayne county, new york, in . he was raised on a farm, educated at romeo, michigan, and came to little falls in . he served as register of deeds for morrison county eight years, and was postmaster eleven years. he also served as county surveyor and county attorney, having been admitted to the bar in . he was notary public twenty-five years. he was a representative in the minnesota legislatures of , and . during his first term in the house he represented nineteen counties, nearly one-half the territory of the state. he served as judge of probate two terms. mr. richardson has prepared, by order of the board of county commissioners, and published in the local papers, a complete and valuable history of morrison county, to which we are greatly indebted. he was married to mary a. roof in , and has a family of three sons and two daughters. moses la fond, a canadian frenchman, came to morrison county in , and located at little falls, where he commenced as a teamster for the little falls manufacturing company. he found more lucrative employment, became a butcher, then a merchant, then a legislator, having been elected a representative in the legislature of . o. a. churchill.--orlando a. churchill was born in windsor county, vermont, in . he came to illinois in , and to little falls in , where he engaged in mercantile pursuits. he was elected to the legislature of , but did not serve, as no session of the legislature was held that year. he served several years as auditor of morrison county. he removed to st. paul a few years ago, and later to california, but is now again a resident of little falls. john m. kidder made a claim of government land on the east side of the mississippi, on the site of little falls. he died in , before the land was entered, and the claim was purchased by wm. sturgis, a son-in-law of mr. kidder, and by him sold to the little falls company. elliott j., a son of john m. kidder, is still a resident of little falls. warren kobe located at royalton in and built an elevator, store and first class hotel. mr. kobe is a public spirited citizen and has expended much in improving the town. ola k. black, of norwegian birth, was one of the first settlers. ira w. bouch came from buchanan county, iowa, in , and opened the first store in royalton. robert russell, living on a farm near the village, came from scotland to america in and settled here in . mr. russell died in july, ; mrs. russell died in . three sons and five daughters survive them. peter a. green, a farmer, pre-empted one hundred and sixty acres in , a part of which is surveyed into town lots. he built the second building on the town site. mr. green was born in , in green county, new york, where he married. he died january, . his widow and two sons survive him. rodolphus d. kinney was the first settler on the town site of royalton, in , erected the first house and was the first postmaster, in . mr. kinney gave the name of royalton to the post office, the name being that of his birthplace, in the state of vermont. he was born in ; had good educational advantages in youth and attended fairmount theological seminary in cincinnati; was an associate of the early presbyterian missions and was the first school teacher in morrison county, in and , at belle prairie. he was married in st. paul in . his eldest son, jonathan, was born in . one daughter lives in alabama and his youngest son is a physician at royalton. john d. logan came to minnesota from philadelphia in and located in hastings; served during the war in company g. first minnesota regular volunteers. in he came to royalton and devoted himself to the development of the water power and the building up of the village. he has a wife and three children. crow wing county. the county of crow wing was organized in . prior to this period it was included in benton and other counties. it now includes eleven whole and eight fractional townships in townships to , ranges to , inclusive. the mississippi river bounds it on the west and northwest, aitkin county on the east and morrison on the south. its soil ranges from a light sandy to a dark loam, with clay subsoil, and the timber includes the pines and the hardwoods common to the latitude. there are also fine meadows and burr oak openings. it is watered by the tributaries of the mississippi and its surface is dotted with lakes. it is well adapted to stock raising and agriculture. c. h. beaulieu appears to have been the first white man to locate within its boundaries. he established a trading post as early as , near the mouth of crow wing river. his successors in trade were allen morrison and donald mcdonald. philip beaupre was here in . when fort ripley was built s. b. olmstead, with his family, built a house and improved a farm opposite the fort on the east bank of the mississippi. mr. olmstead came from prairie du chien in . while residing here he served as a member of the second, fifth and sixth territorial legislatures, and in was elected president of the council. after living here several years, he removed to texas, and died there some years ago. mr. olmstead kept a hotel and managed to secure most of the hay, beef and wood contracts for the fort. henry m. rice had a trading post at one time at crow wing village, about eight miles above the fort. john h. fairbanks ran a ferry at the village. other settlers were wallace bean, henry whipple, f. m. campbell, w. b. wakefield, ed. lyndes, albert fuller, thomas cathcart, daniel s. mooers, s. c. abbe, and members of the beaulieu family. james a. parish was the first justice of the peace. john mcgillis, who lived at crow wing in , was the second and served about fifteen years. in the first farm was opened on government land, not far from crow wing village, by wallace bean. the second farm was taken by david mcarthur, a canadian, originally from scotland. george van valkenburg opened a blacksmith shop at crow wing in , lived there two years and was then employed as government blacksmith by the indian department, and served as such for twelve years. crow wing county was organized in , with the following board of officers: county auditor, c. h. beaulieu; register of deeds, f. m. campbell; county treasurer, robert fairbanks; county commissioners, j. h. fairbanks, allen morrison, s. b. olmstead; judge of probate court, dennis shaff. the county organization took effect jan. , . the county was attached for judicial purposes, first to ramsey, and then to morrison county. f. w. peake came to crow wing in , and opened a trading post, and was afterward one of the mercantile firm of peake & wakefield. rev. e. s. peake, an episcopal clergyman, came to crow wing about the same time, built a church and remained as rector till the breaking out of the war, when he accepted the chaplaincy of a wisconsin regiment. after the war he removed to california, and carried on a mission a few years, but later returned to minnesota and is now stationed at detroit. rev. francis pierz, a catholic priest, officiated at crow wing and belle prairie until , when he returned to his home in austria. the first district court was held at crow wing in , j. m. mckelvey officiating as judge, chas. beaulieu as clerk of court, and wm. wood as sheriff. soon after the county organization was abandoned, to be reresumed in by legislative enactment. the county officers at the organization were: commissioners, wallace bean, henry whipple and f. w. peake; treasurer, e. b. snyder; auditor, j. w. campbell; clerk of court, chas. h. beaulieu; sheriff, wm. wood. murderers lynched. in , ellen, daughter of david mcarthur, living near crow wing village, was murdered by indians. the murderers were arrested and placed in jail at brainerd, from which they were taken by a mob and hanged. brainerd is situated on the east bank of the mississippi, and is a prosperous city. the settlement commenced with the opening of the northern pacific railroad. this road has a branch from brainerd to st. paul. the railroad company have made brainerd headquarters for repairing shops; have expended large amounts in improvements, and employ in their business here nearly , men. the first through train arrived at brainerd march , . in several claims were made for purposes of speculation, and afterward sold to mrs. hester gilman, of st. cloud, and other parties, but the greater part of the city site was purchased of the government in , by hester gilman and thomas h. campbell. the lake superior & puget sound company, organized under the laws of maine, and duly authorized by the laws of minnesota, purchased gilman's and campbell's claims and made the original survey and plat of the town on sept , . the name, brainerd, was given to the new town in honor of mrs. brainerd swift, wife of the first president of the northern pacific road. in a new survey was made by heinze brothers. the site was a handsome plain, originally covered with prince pine trees, many of which were left standing as ornamental trees. among the first settlers we find the names of charles darby, e. h. bly, l. p. white, w. p. spalding, w. w. hartley, stuart seely, f. w. peake, s. w. taylor, e. b. lynde, john bishop, t. c. barnes, and john martin. the first permanent dwelling, a log house, was built by charles darby, the next was built by stuart seely, and the third by l. p. white. e. h. bly built the first store. the headquarters hotel, subsequently destroyed by fire, was built in . many of the buildings of ancient crow wing were moved to brainerd. the leland house was built in - ; the merchants in . the post office was established in , with s. w. thayer as postmaster. the county seat was removed to this place in , and a court house and jail built by l. p. white, at an expense of $ . . the first marriage, that of joseph gronden and miss darby, occurred in . a city charter was obtained jan. , . the following were the first officers: mayor, eber h. bly; aldermen, l. p. white, m. tuttle, w. s. heathcote, wm. murphy, t. x. goulett; president of the council, l. p. white. brainerd has a court house, built at a cost of $ , , and school buildings worth $ , . the northern pacific depot and shops were built at a cost of $ , , and the northern pacific sanitarium at a cost of $ , . the sanitarium is a hospital for the sick or disabled employes of the entire line of road, and is supported by monthly installments from the employes. dr. beger is superintendent. brainerd has one steam saw mill with a capacity of , , feet per annum, another with a capacity of , , feet, and many fine business blocks and tasteful residences. it has also electric lights, water works, and street cars, and is making rapid progress as a city. in a charter was obtained by charles f. kindred & co. to build a dam across the mississippi. the dam has been completed at a cost of $ , . it has a head of feet, with sufficient flow to secure , horse power, and a boomage overflowing , acres, forming a reservoir miles in length, with side lakes, the whole capable of holding , , , feet of logs. the whole city machinery, including electric lights, water works, street cars, and northern pacific railroad shops, will be attached to this water power. crow wing county contributed $ , in bonds to the building of this dam. brainerd has an opera house, and is well supplied with churches, the catholics, presbyterians, baptists, congregationalists, episcopalians, lutherans, and methodists having organizations and buildings. l. p. white was born in vermont in . he was self educated. he was married in vermont, came to chicago in , and engaged in railroading until arriving at brainerd, in , where he built the first frame house. his wife was the first white woman resident of the city. since locating at brainerd, mr. white has been the acting agent of the lake superior & puget sound company, which has laid out all the town sites from northern pacific junction to moorhead with the exception of detroit. allen morrison was one of a family of twelve, seven boys and five girls. his father was born in scotland, but emigrated to canada, where he died in . two of the boys were in the english navy, and killed at the battle of trafalgar, in egypt. william morrison, a brother of allen, and several years his senior, was among the early explorers of northern minnesota, having visited the territory as early as , and was one of the party who discovered lake itasca, the source of the mississippi river. allen's first visit to this region was in , when he came to fond du lac, as a trader in what was then known as the "northern outfit." for several years he was associated with his brother william in the fond du lac department, during which time he was stationed at sandy lake, leech lake, red lake, mille lacs, and crow wing, and when the indians were removed to white earth, went there also, and remained until his death. in he was married to miss charlotte chaboullier, who died at crow wing in the fall of . she was a daughter of a member of the old northwestern fur company, who was a trader on the saskatchewan, and died in canada in . mr. morrison was the father of eleven children. caroline, now in brainerd, was married to chris. grandelmyer in april, . rachel resides with her sister, mrs. grandelmyer. john j. and allen, at white earth; mary, the eldest, now mrs. j. r. sloan, at st. cloud; and louisa, now mrs. john bromley, at northern pacific junction. mr. morrison died on the twenty-eighth of november, , and was buried at white earth, in the historic valley where he had passed so many eventful years. his name, however, will not perish, nor his virtues be forgotten. in the first territorial legislature he represented the district embracing the voting precincts of sauk rapids and crow wing, and when the present county of morrison was set off, the legislature named it in honor of this esteemed veteran pioneer. charles f. kindred, an active, enterprising citizen of brainerd, is doing for his adopted city all that one man can do. mr. kindred, for many years after his arrival in minnesota, was a trusted agent of the northern pacific railroad company, and while in their employ acquired a thorough knowledge of the resources of north minnesota, which he uses to the best interest of the section in which he has made his home. he is at present superintending the building of the kindred dam. chapter xviii. aitkin county. this county consists of an oblong section, six towns in width, lying between mille lacs and kanabec counties on the south, and itasca on the north. it is a heavily timbered region, upon which the lumberman has drawn for hundreds of millions of feet of lumber, with but little apparent diminution in the quantity of the supply. the whole surface is dotted with lakes and variegated with natural meadows. the southern portion of the county affords good farming lands. mille lacs, in the southern part of the county, is the largest lake, and settlements have already been made along its shores. sandy lake is second in size. it lies on the great portage route from winnipeg, by way of st. louis river to lake superior, and has been a noted point on that route for two hundred years. the missions of the jesuits, and later, of the presbyterians and methodists, had been located here and abandoned. the fur trader and the indian trader have made their headquarters here. sandy lake has become historic. the county contains about one hundred and three townships, which are drained chiefly by the mississippi and its tributaries. the mississippi is navigable from aitkin to pokegama falls, a distance of over one hundred miles. aitkin county was created may , , but was not organized until july , . the first officers chosen were: county commissioners, nathaniel tibbetts, chairman; wm. hallstrom, wm. wade; treasurer, geo. clapp; register of deeds, wm. hallstrom; auditor, w. e. crowell; sheriff, james w. tibbetts. that part of the county including the village of aitkin was organized into a town in ; n. tibbetts, chairman. the northern pacific railroad passes through six townships of this county, namely: townships and , range to , inclusive. while the road was in process of building in , nathaniel tibbetts made a claim where the village of aitkin now stands, and built the first house, a hotel known as the ojibway house, and the next spring built the aitkin house. he moved his family here in . he was appointed the first postmaster at the organization of the county. the county and village of aitkin were named after wm. a. aitkin, who was a prominent trader on the upper mississippi for a number of years. aitkin village. aitkin was made the county seat at the organization of the county. it is pleasantly situated on the west branch of ripple creek, near the east branch of the mississippi. it is now a prosperous and thriving village with heavy mercantile establishments, two first class hotels, a good school house, and pleasant homes. one newspaper, the aitkin _age_, is published here. warren potter, richard mills, william wade and george jenkins are early citizens. in capt. houghton built a steamer, called the pokegama, to run from aitkin to pokegama falls. this steamer was burned in . capt. houghton replaced it with a new boat called the city of aitkin, which still plies the mississippi river between the points named. pokegama falls is a headquarters for lumbermen and a place for general trade. wm. a. aitken.--the date and place of mr. aitkin's nativity are not positively known. he came to the chippewa country when a boy of fifteen, as servant to a trader named john drew, and in time became a successful and well known trader. he died at sandy lake in . his life, in common with that of the early traders, was adventurous. he witnessed many stirring scenes, among them the battle of stillwater ravine, in . although raised among the indians, and continually on the frontier, he was noted for his urbanity and geniality, and is well spoken of by the early explorers. alfred aitkin, son of the foregoing, was killed by a chippewa indian at cass lake in . he had stolen the wife of the indian, and refusing to return her to the enraged husband, was shot by him. the murderer was arrested, taken to prairie du chien for trial, tried before judge drum's court and acquitted. nathaniel tibbetts was born in new sharon, maine, march , . while a mere boy he moved to piscataquis county, and in came to plover, wisconsin, and two years later to stillwater, minnesota. he engaged in lumbering until , when he moved to st. anthony, and soon afterward made a claim at the mouth of elk river, then in benton county, where he remained until the civil war, when he enlisted in company a, eighth minnesota, of which company he was commissioned first lieutenant, and was afterward appointed regimental quartermaster. he was mustered out with his regiment at the close of the war, when he returned to his home at elk river, and resumed his old business of lumbering. in he was engaged in the preliminary survey of the northern pacific railroad, and located the same year at aitkin, of which village he was the pioneer, building the first house and barn, keeping the first hotel and serving as the first postmaster. he served four years as county commissioner. he has also served as register of deeds and sheriff. ten years after his location at aitkin he removed to morrison county, where he now resides. his health is somewhat impaired from the exposure and fatigue of army life. carlton county. carlton county lies between st. louis county on the north, pine on the south, douglas county, wisconsin, on the east and aitkin on the west, and contains twenty-four townships. it is abundantly watered by the st. louis river and its many tributaries on the northeast, by the tributaries of the nemadji and kettle rivers on the south. it is well timbered with pine and hardwoods. the st. louis river affords one of the finest water powers in the northwest. the rapids of this stream extend from the falls at cloquet to fond du lac, a distance of twelve miles. the channel is rocky, the rocks being of a trappean or slaty formation, not easily worn by the water, and capable of furnishing good foundations for dams and mills. the first settlers were a. k. lovejoy, cephas bradley, joseph meyers, sexton lyons, and some others. mr. lovejoy died at thomson, feb. , , aged sixty-three years, leaving a wife. they had been the parents of twenty-four children, twelve pairs of twins. the county was named in honor of r. b. carlton, who was a representative in the first state legislature. mr. carlton died at fond du lac, sept. , . the county was organized in , and the county seat located at twin lakes, but changed by act of legislature to thomson. it is subdivided into five towns, knife falls, mahtowa, moose lake, thomson, and twin lakes. it has a well defined slate stone range running from northeast to southwest. the same range crops out at little falls, morrison county. thomson. the village of thomson, the county seat of carlton county, is located on the st. louis river. the northern pacific railroad crosses at this point. a. m. miller erected a steam saw mill here in . the mill has a capacity of , feet per day, and has been a profitable enterprise. a. k. lovejoy operates a saw mill six miles northwest, which has a capacity of , feet. the village of thomson has a good graded school with two departments. cloquet, located on the st. louis river, was surveyed and platted in . in charles d. harwood erected a steam saw mill at this point with a capacity of , feet. this was the beginning of a thriving manufacturing village. in the knife falls lumber company rebuilt the harwood mill, increasing its capacity to , feet per day. in the property was transferred to renwick, crossett & co. james paine, mcnair and others built a water power saw mill in , with a capacity of , feet per day. the c. n. nelson company, in , built two steam saw mills with a capacity of , feet per day. a post office was established in ; c. d. harwood, postmaster. the village was platted and incorporated in ; william p. allen was the first president of the council. it has two newspapers, the _pine knot journal_, established by ed. gottry and j. h. page in , and the _industrial vidette_, established in . it contains three church organizations with good buildings, the catholic, methodist and presbyterian. moose lake station, on the st. paul & duluth railroad, is surrounded by a good farming country, and is a pretty, prosperous village. it has a post office, about sixty dwellings and a saw mill. barnum station, on the line of the same road, contains a post office, a saw mill with a capacity of about , feet daily, a few fine residences, with fine farms adjoining. mahtowa station, on the same road, has a saw mill and about twenty dwellings. an extensive stock farm is located here. north pacific junction is situated on the st. louis river, at the junction of the st. paul & duluth and northern pacific railroads. there are about one hundred buildings here including a large saw mill built by paine & co., having a capacity of , , feet per annum; one school house, one church, and hotels, stores, shops and dwellings. the village was organized in ; cephas bradley, president. francis asbury watkins is a native of the state of new hampshire. he was born in ; came to baraboo, wisconsin, in , to north pacific junction in ; was married to anna wicks, of pine city, minnesota, in , and was admitted to practice law in . he is a graduate of lawrence university, appleton, wisconsin. he has served as auditor of carlton county four years. st. louis county. st. louis county takes its name from st. louis river, the river itself having been named by some of the early french travelers or jesuit missionaries, possibly by duluth or buade. the county is bounded on the north by rainy lake and the british boundary, on the east by lake county, on the south by lake superior, st. louis river and carlton, and on the west by aitkin county. the surface is variegated, much of it being broken with deep ravines. it is well watered by streams tributary to rainy lake and superior, and by innumerable small lakes. portions of it are heavily timbered with pines and hardwoods, and the northern portion is traversed by a rich mineral belt extending through the vermillion lake region. the settlements are chiefly along the shores of lake superior and st. louis river, and on the shores of vermillion lake. the falls and rapids of st. louis river are noted for their wildness and grandeur. the scenery on its northern boundary, including the dalles of the rainy lake waters, is not surpassed or even equaled at any point east of the rocky mountains. the geological formation consists largely of primitive or igneous rocks, trappean, basaltic and granite, and the scenery has a peculiarly grand and sombre appearance. notwithstanding the igneous character of the formation there is much excellent farming land on plains and intervales, while the more abrupt and rocky portions are rich in iron and the precious metals. the region about vermillion lake has become a centre of mining operations. the region is rich in iron ores. gold has also been discovered. a mineral region abounding in gold, silver and iron extends from vermillion lake to thunder bay. st. louis county was organized in . the territorial governor appointed the following officers: clerk of district court, j. b. culver; sheriff, j. b. ellis; register of deeds, r. h. barrett; auditor, j. e. brown. the first board of county commissioners elected were c. e. martin, vose palmer and z. j. brown. the first meeting was held at portland, jan. , . at an adjourned meeting held jan. , , the commissioners drew a grand and petit jury. the meetings were held sometimes at portland and sometimes at duluth. at a meeting held april , , the county was divided into four towns--duluth, martin, carp river and carlton. at an adjourned meeting three assessor's districts, six school districts and four road districts were formed. the records do not show any previous division into districts or precincts, nor does the name of any clerk appear until the meeting of september th, when a. b. robbins attests as clerk. at a meeting held sept. , , the village of oneota was established. november st e. h. brown was appointed clerk in place of a. b. robbins. november th a bill allowing r. h. barrett compensation for services as clerk prior to september st was passed. his name does not appear prior to this entry. the records show that a court was held in , s. j. r. mcmillan officiating as judge. also that a road was made from oneota to buchanan and the mouth of knife river, through fremont, portland and endion, following a trail to lester's river and across french river to montezuma, and another from oneota to fond du lac. the town of milford is mentioned as accepting the report. the assessment for st. louis county for amounted to $ , . . at a special meeting of the county commissioners held jan. , , a resolution was adopted asking the legislature to grant authority to st. louis county to issue $ , to aid in building the lake superior & mississippi railroad. the legislature granted the request and twenty year bonds were issued. we append a list of county commissioners to the year : e. c. martin, vose palmer, zach t. brown, ; e. c. martin, vose palmer, w. e. wright, ; w. e. wright, s. a. forbes, sidney luce, ; e. f. ely, joseph b. culver (first meeting), ; e. f. ely, harvey fargo, levi b. coffrey (second meeting), ; e. f. ely, r. b. carlton, h. fargo, ; h. fargo, r. b. carlton, e. g. swanstrom, . names of villages that appear in the old records of the board have entirely disappeared. those villages nearest to duluth have been absorbed by that vigorous young city. we find a record, bearing date , authorizing an election to decide upon the question of the removal of the county seat from duluth to port byron. there is no record of the result of the election, nor is port byron found in a recent map. duluth. the site of duluth was visited as long ago as , by two adventurous frenchmen, grosselier and redission. this was twenty-one years prior to the coming of greyson duluth, in whose honor the city of duluth was named two hundred years later. capt. duluth visited the western end of the lake in . three or four years later jean duluth, a brother of the captain, established two trading posts, one at the mouth of pigeon river, the other on minnesota point. le sueur followed in , accompanied by a french surveyor, franquelin, who made a fairly correct map of the region. the attraction to the early voyageurs was the rich furs to be obtained in the wild regions adjacent. the great american fur company early established posts along the northern shore of lake superior, and later the astor fur company made its northwestern headquarters at fond du lac, a few miles above the present site of duluth. nothing was done toward permanent settlement until about the year , when the tide of immigration set in toward the head of the lake, and it became evident that here was to rise cities of no mean importance, one upon the western shore of the lake, rising from the base of minnesota point, and the other superior city, across the gleaming waters of st. louis bay. for several years the growth of duluth was slow, and sometimes its fortunes seemed on the wane, but the construction of a railroad to st. paul, completed in , and a sudden influx of capital consequent upon this new outlet of trade, and more than all this, the proposed construction of the great northern pacific railroad, gave a new impetus to the growth of the city. the three years succeeding were years of great activity and progress. the population increased from , to , , and many of the finer older buildings of the city were constructed. the canal was cut through minnesota point, thus giving to duluth the most magnificent harbor on the lake, if not in the world. in the failure of jay cooke, who had largely contributed the means for the construction of the northern pacific railroad, caused a financial depression similar in its effects to that of . banks failed, merchants became bankrupt, and the population of the city was reduced to , souls. the "hard times" lasted until some time in , when the opening up of the great wheat fields in the red river valley, and the completion of the northern pacific railroad, again brought prosperity to the more than half deserted city. the population increased in from , to , souls. two years later the census showed , ; and a year later, , . in the population had increased to , ; in to , ; in to , ; in to , , and in to , souls. duluth has now a well organized board of trade, produce exchange and chamber of commerce. it has four banks, the american exchange, duluth national, merchants national, and bell & eyster's. these banks had, in , an aggregate capital of $ , , with deposits of $ , , , amounts greatly increased during the year . the taxable valuation of property in duluth for the year was $ , , . the taxes paid in amount to $ , . duluth has one immense flour mill, with a capacity of barrels per day. it is five stories in height, and favorably situated; having the lake upon one side and the railroads upon the other, so that loading and unloading can be carried on at once from vessels and cars. duluth has also two large flour warehouses with a capacity of , barrels each. large warehouses are also being built by the northern pacific and omaha railroad companies. the annual shipment of flour from duluth has ranged from , barrels in to , , in , making an aggregate of , , barrels in that time. the lumber industry of duluth is no small factor in the prosperity of the city. the cut of the duluth district for the past season amounts to , , feet of lumber, , , shingles, and , , lath, of which the city mills have manufactured one-third. much of this lumber has been shipped to chicago and the east, and a new district, the tower mining region, has lately been opened for shipment. we have alluded to the harbor of duluth as one of the best on the lake. it consists of what is known as the bay of superior, a body of water about seven miles long by one mile in width, almost entirely shut off from the lake by a narrow strip of land known as minnesota point. the original entrance to this bay was through a channel on the southeast of the point, separating it from wisconsin point, a similar tongue of land in the same line of direction. as this entrance was inconvenient and difficult, a canal was cut across the point near the mainland, sufficiently large to admit all vessels that pass through ste. marie's canal. since the construction of the canal through minnesota point, the old landing in front of the city has been abandoned, and elevators have been built on the shores of the bay. these elevators are the best of their class, and have a total capacity of , , bushels. they were ten in number, exclusive of several warehouses; two, however, have been destroyed by fire. the walls of the canal have been extended in the form of piers , feet into the lake. one of these piers is supplied with a lighthouse and a fog horn. the canal is feet long and feet in width. the arrivals and clearances for the port of duluth in were , . the fish trade is no inconsiderable part of the industries of duluth. two large firms have their headquarters here and the amount of capital invested in the business amounts to $ , . during , , pounds of fish were shipped to duluth for reshipment to other places, from the various fisheries of these companies. the united states fish commissioners, realizing the value of lake superior as a reservoir for food fish, have projected the largest fish hatchery on the lakes, to be located at lester's park. it is to be under government and state control and will supply the lakes of superior and michigan with about , , eggs yearly. duluth was organized and laid out as a village under the town site law of ; richard ralf, surveyor; geo. e. nettleton, j. b. culver, o. w. rice, wm. nettleton, and robt. e. jefferson, proprietors. the date of this organization is not known. we have a statement from hon. w. g. le duc, of hastings, to the effect, that in the winter of - , a. ramsey, h. m. rice, maj. watrous and himself, with two others whose names he can not recall, organized as a company and projected a town site at the west end of the lake, on the present site of duluth. maj. watrous, the indian agent, was instructed to take necessary measures to secure the land. watrous failed to secure the property and the scheme failed. mr. le duc projected and introduced a charter in the territorial legislature, which was passed, for a railroad to duluth. in the city of duluth was first incorporated, and five years later a portion of the same territory was incorporated as the village of duluth, and the two municipal corporations were still in existence feb. , , when the act imposing certain political obligations upon the then existing city of duluth became a law. the second day of march another law went into effect incorporating both the city and village of duluth as the present city. fond du lac, located at the head of navigation on st. louis river, and at the foot of the rapids, is a point of considerable historical interest, it having long been in use as a trading post. it has been a place of outfit and departure for trading expeditions for two hundred years. the old stone trading house of the astor fur company still remains. it is surrounded by about twenty buildings of more recent date. it is now better known as a station on the northern pacific railroad. it was surveyed in by richard ralf and platted into village lots. the plats were signed by james a. markland, attorney for the proprietors. fond du lac is now a village of some magnitude. oneota was settled some time in the ' s, by edmund f. ely and others, and became a village of some note, containing a post office, church and other evidences of prosperity. it was platted as a village in ; h. w. wheeler, surveyor; marcus w. mccracken, bion w. bacon, edmund f. ely, proprietors. the first recorded deed in st. louis county is a quitclaim deed from b. h. baer to e. f. ely, of the town site of ely; consideration, $ , . the deed bears date of april , . oneota is now included in the plat of duluth. clifton. this village was platted in , by john s. watrous, on the shores of the lake north of duluth. it is now within the duluth city limits. portland, a village on the lake shore above duluth, was platted in . the proprietors were aaron b. robbins, james d. ray, c. marshall and j. j. post. it is now within the duluth city limits. endion, located on the north shore, was surveyed dec. , , by chas. martin; m. p. niel and others, proprietors. it is now within the duluth city limits. middleton, located on minnesota point, was surveyed aug. , ; proprietors, robert reed, t. a. markland. montezuma, located on the north shore, was surveyed in may, , by vose palmer; proprietor, frederic ottoman. buchanan, located on the north shore, was surveyed in october, ; proprietor, w. g. cowell. st. louis falls was surveyed in , by c. e. clark; thos. h. hogan, attorney for proprietors. fremont island. a peculiar feature of st. louis bay has been the formation of floating islands, possibly the result of the collection of driftwood and other debris at the mouth of st. louis river. the rafts thus formed in time became consolidated by the deposition of earthy materials, leaves, twigs and vegetable matter, and are covered with a rank growth of vegetation, at first shrubby, but at last arboreous. the roots of the shrubs and trees interlace, and hold the material of the raft more tightly together. these island rafts are sometimes loosened and float into the bay, and are driven about by the winds from one side of the bay to the other. one of these islands, supposed to be stationary, known as fremont island, was surveyed and platted in , by c. p. heustis and chas. a. post. on the completion of the canal it broke loose from its moorings, floated away and disappeared, in all probability going to pieces in the rough waters of the lake. tower, located on the southern shore of vermillion lake, was surveyed aug. , . the proprietors are the minnesota iron company, of which charlemagne tower is president. the iron mines located in this vicinity are amongst the richest on the continent. attention was first called to the vermillion by the reported discovery of gold. machinery for crushing and smelting was transported thither, but the thousands who rushed to the reputed gold field expecting to become suddenly rich, returned disappointed and disheartened. attention had long before been called to the fact that there were rich iron mines in the district, but the circumstances were unfavorable for their development. they were in a remote position and accessible only by a journey of several days through woods and swamps. these mines could be reached and developed only by state aid, which was given in the shape of a grant of swamp lands, to be applied to building a railway from the lake to the mines. this grant having been obtained, mr. tower and other capitalists at once invested their millions in the mines, purchasing some , acres of land, covering the larger portion of the iron deposits in the district, embracing the present site of the village of tower. a railroad sixty-eight miles in length was constructed from tower to two harbors, a point twenty-seven miles north of duluth. this road was completed in the spring of , and the first shipment was made july d of that year, the total shipments for the year being , tons. the shipments for were , tons, and for , , tons. over $ , , was paid to laborers in the tower mines in . col. george e. stone, of duluth, is deserving of praise for his foresight and energy in opening the tower mines. mr. stone labored with untiring zeal after the land grant to aid in building the road was given until the road was built and the mines opened. george r. stuntz is well known as the government surveyor of the lake superior region, whose work covers thousands of miles of north wisconsin lands, lying along the southern shore of the lake, and who has accurately mapped the meanderings of the influent streams, the bays and shaggy projecting shores of the great "unsalted sea." there is no better topographical authority than mr. stuntz, and no one better posted as to the location and value of the northern wisconsin areas and the vermillion mines. having early made superior city and duluth his home, and for nearly forty years having been identified with the interests of the west superior country, he is an oft-quoted authority. many of his published articles contain most valuable information concerning the feasibility of connecting st. croix and superior waters. his assertions concerning the mineral wealth of the lake country, made before the development of the mines, have since been verified. mr. stuntz is a typical, sensible frontiersman, of american birth, aged about seventy years. charles hinman graves, a native of springfield, massachusetts, born in , received a liberal education, and in enlisted as a private in the fortieth massachusetts volunteers, but was promoted step by step to the rank of lieutenant colonel. he was severely wounded at the battle of gettysburg. in he was commissioned as a colonel in the regular army, but resigned in , and located at duluth. from to he was a member of the state senate. he has held several public positions in duluth, and stands deservedly high as a citizen. he has labored zealously and efficiently for the prosperity of duluth. ozro p. stearns was born jan. , , at de kalb, lawrence county, new york. in his youth he was dependent upon his own resources. he graduated at michigan university in , after which he visited california, tried mining for a short time, and returning graduated in the law department of michigan university. in he came to rochester, minnesota, and opened a law office. in he enlisted in company f, ninth minnesota volunteers, of which he was commissioned first lieutenant, but in was promoted to the colonelcy of the thirty-ninth united states infantry (colored). he served through many battles and campaigns, and was mustered out at the close of the war. in january, , he returned to rochester; in was appointed register in bankruptcy for southern minnesota; in january, , he was elected to the united states senate for a short term to fill the vacancy caused by the death of d. s. norton. in he removed to duluth, and in was appointed judge of the eleventh judicial district, to which office he was elected in the fall of the same year, which position, by re-election, he still holds. judge stearns was married in february, , to sarah burger, of detroit, michigan. lake county. this county lies on the north shore of lake superior, between the counties of cook and st. louis, extending northward to the british line. the whole region is abrupt, broken into hills and valleys, and rich in silver, iron and other metals. the great vermillion iron mines of st. louis county find an outlet through this county by the duluth & iron range railroad, which finds a lake station at two harbors. the road was built from two harbors to vermillion lake in , from two harbors to duluth in . the entire road and extensive mines were sold in june, , for $ , , , to porter and others, who are now extending the road from vermillion lake eastward to thunder bay and port arthur. it is already completed to ely, a distance of twenty miles. emigration during the years - to this county has been very extensive. the two counties, lake and cook, have many features in common. they are similar in geological formation, produce the same metals in the same generous abundance, and being in the same latitude, and bordering upon the same lake, differ in no wise in climate and but little in productions. large quantities of pine timber may be found in these counties, and saw mills are located along the lake shore where an accessible harbor can be found. there are several harbors between duluth and thunder bay that might be improved by the government, greatly to the advantage of the country. the silver mines of isle royal and along the national boundary are extensive, and yield rich returns to the companies working them. two harbors, a flourishing village located on the shore of lake superior, takes its name from two small harbors bearing that name. the vermillion iron company have built extensive piers into the lake to facilitate the shipping of ores. they have large shops for railroad purposes, with an electric light plant. the company employ about two hundred men. two harbors is the county seat of lake county. cook county. grand marais is the county seat of cook county. it is a round, land-locked harbor. it has a lighthouse, and the government has built a breakwater four hundred feet long, thus making it a harbor of refuge, so that boats can lie with safety in any storm. grand marais is one hundred and ten miles from duluth, on the north shore of lake superior. it is the best harbor that minnesota has except duluth. it is thirty miles south of the international boundary line, and forty-five miles northeast of the line by lake superior. it is the natural outlet for the mineral deposits north. there are large quantities of iron ore within thirty-five miles of the harbor. a railroad line has been run, and men are now at work on the iron deposits with a view of shipping the ore from grand marais to points where it is wanted for smelting purposes. grand marais was in early days one of the northwest fur company's trading posts, but of late years has been used as a fishing station. streets in the town are now being laid out, and from present indications cook county, with its pine lands, iron ore and other mineral resources, will be one of the most thriving counties in the state, with grand marais as not only a harbor of refuge, but one of the competing ports for the shipment of iron ore. h. mayhew, to whom we are indebted for items of interest concerning cook county, is the oldest resident of grand marais, and one of the town proprietors. chapter xix. hennepin county. hennepin county was organized march , . prior to the organization of minnesota territory it was in clayton county, iowa. at the organization of the territory, in , it was included in dakota county, and so remained until set off in . hon. bradley b. meeker held the first court within the present limits of the county, at the old government mill, in . taylor dudley was clerk of court, franklin steele, foreman of grand jury. the first board of commissioners were alex. moore, chairman, john jackins and joseph dean. the first election was held oct. , , at the house of col. john h. stevens, on the west side. the county is a rich agricultural region, abounding with beautiful lakes, of which minnetonka is the largest and finest. the county is bounded on the north by the mississippi river and wright county, on the east by the mississippi river and ramsey county, on the south by the minnesota river and carver county, on the west by wright and carver counties. it is subdivided into the following towns: bloomington, brooklyn, champlin, crystal lake, corcoran, dayton, eden prairie, excelsior, greenwood, hasson, independence, maple grove, medina, minneapolis, minnetonka, minnetrista, osseo, plymouth, richfield, and st. anthony. [illustration: fort snelling, on line of c., m. & st. p. ry.] fort snelling. fort snelling owes its origin to the encroachments of british traders on our northern frontier. as early as lieut. zebulen montgomery pike, united states army, was sent with a detachment of troops to explore the upper mississippi river to expel british traders who might be found encroaching upon our territory, and to secure by treaty a military reservation. sept. , , he encamped on pike island, at the junction of the minnesota and mississippi rivers, and, being pleased with the situation, forthwith made a treaty with chiefs of the sioux nation to include all that tract of land lying from below the confluence of the two rivers, up the mississippi, including the falls of st. anthony, nine miles in width on each side of the river. the price paid was $ , . the reserve thus purchased was not used for military purposes until , when a detachment of the fifth united states infantry, commanded by lieut. col. henry leavenworth, was sent to occupy the reservation and build a fort. the building of the fort, with its various stone and wooden buildings, was the work of years. the site of the fort was selected in , by col. josiah snelling, who named it fort st. anthony, but at the suggestion of gen. winfield scott, in the name was changed to fort snelling as a worthy compliment to its founder and builder. notwithstanding the treaty made by col. pike in , the indian claim to the reservation was not extinguished until the treaty of , ratified by the senate in . in , before the extinction of the indian title, many settlers located on the reservation on the left bank of the mississippi. these were forcibly removed by the united states government in , under the act of march , , an act to prevent settlements being made on ceded lands until duly authorized by law. the reservation was reduced from time to time, portions being sold. in franklin steele purchased the entire reservation, with the exception of two small tracts, including the fort itself, for the sum of $ , , to be paid in three yearly installments. the first payments were actually made, the troops were withdrawn, and mr. steele assumed possession. default having been made in the two remaining payments, the government resumed possession of a small portion of the reservation and fort in . the year following, by act of congress, the reservation was reduced. in it was permanently reduced to , . acres. a suit at law between mr. steele and the united states government was compromised by releasing him from further payments and granting him a large tract of land lying along the right bank of the mississippi, north of the fort, with a portion of pike's island. maj. plympton and other officers of the fort, in company with franklin steele, made the first land claim, by permit of the government, at east st. anthony, in . they built a shanty and hired a frenchman to occupy it. steele bought out the interests of the officers associated with him and in secured a title from the united states. the first saw mill built on this claim was commenced by mr. steele, in conjunction with boston parties in , but was not completed until the following year. the next land claim on the river was made further up, by r. p. russell and s. j. findley. this was sold to bottineau and afterward passed to other parties. the land claim adjoining steele's, below, was purchased of a frenchman by c. a. tuttle in . this claim is now partially occupied by the state university. w. henry cheever made a claim south of tuttle's, on which, in , he built a hotel and a huge wooden tower or observatory, nearly one hundred feet in height, over the entrance to which was a rhyming couplet: "pay your dime and climb." franklin steele, before completing his mill and dam, became sole owner of the water power on the east side of the river. during the periods following the property has often changed owners, and sometimes the change has resulted in unprofitable litigation. james j. hill, in later years, has become the owner of most of the water power of nicollet and hennepin islands and of the east shore, and is making valuable improvements. st. anthony falls. st. anthony falls was platted as a village in , and was included in ramsey county until . in the legislature established satisfactory boundaries, annexing part of town , range , to hennepin county. among the first settlers of the falls was ard godfrey. the first white child born here was a son of c. a. tuttle, millwright. the luther patch family, consisting of four sons and two daughters, was the first resident american family at the falls. mr. patch's sons were edward, wallace, gibson, and lewis; the daughters, marion, who became the wife of r. p. russell, the first marriage at the falls, oct. , , and cora, who became the wife of joseph marshall. an earlier marriage was celebrated at fort snelling may , , that of lieut. edmund a. ogden and eliza edna loomis; rev. thos. s. williamson officiating. this was the first marriage north of prairie du chien. the first store was opened by r. p. russell in , the second, in , by joseph marshall. we find jacob fisher, of stillwater, here in , building the dam from nicollet island to the east shore. among the operators of the mill who have been prominent citizens of st. anthony falls are sumner w. farnham, john rollins, caleb w. dorr, john mcdonald, and robert w. cummings. some of these men brought their families here. the building of the mill was somewhat delayed by the sinking in the erie canal of the boats containing the machinery, hardware, etc. standing pine to be used in the mill was purchased of hole-in-the-day, a chippewa chief, cut and floated down from sauk rapids to the falls. some timber was also brought from rum river, the first cut on that stream, except for government use. at the land sale in , mr. steele secured all the land above tuttle's to the north limits of the city. amongst the settlers in were the getchells, smiths, rogers' and huse. in , at the organization of the territory of minnesota, a number of others arrived, among them judge b. b. meeker, dr. john h. murphy, john w. north, j. p. wilson, and john g. lennon. during this year the west half of sec. , range , was surveyed and platted into town lots by w. r. marshall, b. w. bronson and s. p. folsom. anson northrup commenced the erection of the first hotel, the st. charles. john rollins was elected to the territorial council, w. r. marshall and wm. dugas to the house of representatives. the district was comprised of st. anthony falls and little canada. the first school was taught by miss electa bachus, in the summer of . a post office was established and ard godfrey was appointed postmaster. there were occasional mails brought in john rollins' passenger wagon. in willoughby & powers ran a daily stage line from st. paul and the mail thenceforth was carried regularly. john w. north built a dwelling on nicollet island, which became a social centre, and was made attractive by a piano. in a public library was established, the first in minnesota. rev. e. d. neill, the historian of minnesota, delivered the first public lecture and preached the first sermon in . the following year, the baptists, methodists, congregationalists and presbyterians organized societies, and in the episcopalians and universalists. amongst the accessions to the population were judge isaac atwater, w. w. wales, j. b. bassett, c. w. christmas, and joseph dean. col. alvaren allen opened a livery stable. the st. anthony _express_, the first newspaper, was established may , ; e. tyler, proprietor, judge i. atwater, editor. measures were taken to locate the university in st. anthony falls. citizens contributed $ , aid to in the erection of the building. facilities of communication with the surrounding country were none of the best, yet communication was early established with the red river country, a dog train having arrived from pembina, distant four hundred miles, in sixteen days. on this train kittson, rolette and gingras came down to attend the territorial legislature at st. paul as representatives of pembina county. franklin steele, in , established a ferry above the falls. in the minnesota bridge company was organized, consisting of franklin steele, h. t. wells, r. p. russell, and others. a handsome suspension bridge was finished in . this bridge remained in the control of the company fifteen years, when by an act of the legislature the value was assessed and hennepin county purchased the bridge, and it became a free thoroughfare. april , , st. anthony falls was incorporated as a city with the following officers: mayor, h. t. welles; clerk, w. f. brawley; aldermen, b. f. spencer, john orth, daniel stanchfield, edward lippincott, caleb w. dorr, and robert cummings. in st. anthony falls was annexed to minneapolis, and placed under the same government, a movement which has resulted in great benefit to both cities. st. anthony falls. the earliest written descriptions of st. anthony falls were by the roman catholic missionaries, hennepin and lasalle. the former with accault and du gay ascended the river in a canoe until captured by a band of sioux indians. these indians left the river at a point now the present site of st. paul and took their prisoners to mille lacs. in september, when the indians set out on their annual hunt, the captives were left to go where they pleased. accault preferred remaining with the indians. hennepin and du gay obtained a small canoe and commenced the descent of the rum and mississippi rivers to the falls, then called by the indians ka-ka-bi-ka irara or "severed rock." they reached the falls about the first of october, and named them after st. anthony of padua. the description given by la salle, a second hand one, was probably derived from hennepin, accault or du gay, as la salle did not visit the falls, and these voyageurs were his subordinates, and had been sent by him to explore the upper mississippi. he says: "in going up the mississippi again, twenty leagues above the st. croix is found the falls, which those i sent named st. anthony. they are thirty or forty feet high, and the river is narrower here than elsewhere. there is a small island in the midst of the chute, and the two banks of the river are bordered by hills which gradually diminish at this point, but the country on each side is covered by thin woods, such as oaks and other hardwoods, scattered wide apart." this description corresponds very well with the earliest pictures of the falls, which with "the small island in the midst of the chute" make them resemble slightly a niagara considerably diminished in height. the historic falls have almost entirely disappeared or so changed as to become unrecognizable. spirit island, if this be the island referred to by la salle as in the midst of the chute, is now so far below the falls that it can scarcely be brought into the same picture with them. the falls have undoubtedly receded, by a process easily explained by a geologist, some distance up the river, and have diminished somewhat in altitude. the movement of the falls up stream, caused by the breaking off of limestone ledges, overlying sandstone, easily washed from beneath by the falling water, threatened the total obliteration of the cataract unless arrested by artificial means, as the dip or inclination of the rock is such that the altitude of the falls diminishes with the wearing away of these ledges: it has been found necessary to strengthen the ledges and prevent further erosion by means of aprons, till the present appearance of the falls is not unsuggestive of a series of dams. the entire cost of these improvements has amounted to more than $ , , . the shores of the islands and mainlands have been covered with mills and manufactories, while the scene is still further disfigured by a maze of railway and other bridges, waterways and flumes. scarce a vestige of the original falls remain to recall their appearance as they were when the sandaled and robed franciscan, hennepin, first gazed upon them. in the midst of this solitude, and on the banks once covered by a sparse growth of trees, one of the finest cities in the west has sprung up as if by magic, and the scene is one of busy life. this marvelous change has occurred within a space of fifty years. minneapolis. from the establishment and occupation of fort snelling in , to the settlement of the county in , numerous traders and adventurers, generally of french or canadian origin, and not infrequently intermarried with indians, and semi-indian in their habits of life, occupied transient homes on or near the military reservation; but these have exercised so little influence upon the development of the country that they merit no recognition or record from the historian. as a general thing, they disappeared before the march of civilization. a few, wiser, stronger, more far-seeing than the rest, adapted themselves to the new order, made claims, engaged in the enterprises of civilized life, and thus obtained an honorable position amongst the pioneers of the country. of these, joseph r. brown, by far the most distinguished, by permission of the military authorities, located in hennepin county near the falls of minnehaha, in . he is the first white settler. maj. taliaferro, then in command of the fort, in the same year made a farm on the shores of lake calhoun, and placed philander prescott in charge. in the pond brothers, missionaries, located on lake calhoun and erected the first dwelling worthy of the name within the present limits of the county of hennepin. in philander prescott made a claim on what is now minnehaha avenue. frank steele obtained permission from the secretary of war to occupy this claim, whereupon mr. prescott abandoned it, and made another on laud adjoining. this he was allowed to retain. charles mosseaux, by permission of the military authorities, made a claim on lake calhoun in . this claim is now occupied by the pavillion. rev. e. g. gear, chaplain at fort snelling, by permission of the military authorities, made a claim near lake calhoun and employed edward brissett to live upon it. afterward a contest arose as to the ownership. chaplain gear, by the aid of judge black and h. m. rice, secured a congressional enactment allowing him to purchase the land from the government. david gohram made a claim on the lake of the isles, but subsequently sold out to r. p. russell. john berry, the blaisdells, pierce lowell and many others located in the vicinity of lakes calhoun and harriet, and in were followed by settlers on nearly all the lands lying immediately west of the mississippi, in the vicinity of the falls. in there were twelve farm houses scattered widely from the falls to the vicinity of the lakes. it had been evident for some time that a city of considerable pretensions must arise somewhere in the vicinity of the fort and the falls. the locality of the coming city was decided largely by advantages of situation, and these were in favor of the locality immediately adjoining the falls, the water power there afforded being a powerful attraction. for the first recognition of these advantages we must go back to a period several years anterior to the location of these claims and there find a starting point in the history of minneapolis. in the military authorities at fort snelling had erected a stone mill for sawing their own lumber and grinding the grain shipped from st. louis. they also built a log house and cultivated a few acres of adjacent ground. this mill, run by the water of the falls, was located a short distance below. this was the first utilization of the water power. the mill, which has long since disappeared, was located on the present site of sidle, fletcher & holmes' flouring mill. in one saw mill, the first in minneapolis aside from the old government mill, was located just below the falls. it had a capacity of , , feet per annum and besides manufactured great quantities of shingles. it was under the direction of c. king. a steam saw mill was built at the mouth of bassett's creek, above the falls, in , and another the following year, half a mile further up the river. thus began the great lumber business of minneapolis, in there being three mills with an aggregate capacity of , , feet per annum. the attitude of the government with regard to the lands reserved about the fort, the act of , driving off those who had settled upon them and destroying their property, and the uncertainty with regard to the tenure of land claims, acted as an effectual bar to further improvement until ten years later, when hon. robert smith, member of congress from alton district, illinois, and col. john h. stevens, the pioneer of minneapolis, each obtained permits from the secretary of war and the officers of the fort to occupy one hundred and sixty acres of the reservation. smith's location included the stone mill, which he agreed to use in grinding fort snelling grain. mr. smith engaged c. a. tuttle to operate the mill and hold the claim. mr. tuttle was to have an interest for his labor. this interest he afterward sold to smith, who, when the government relinquished the reservation, transferred his claim to anson northrup and others, who were organized into an association for the entry of land. soon as the entries were completed the land passed into the hands of the minneapolis water power company, which proceeded at once to improve the water power. col. j. h. stevens meanwhile located in person on his permit, and in built the first frame house in minneapolis, on the ground now occupied by the union depot. j. b. bassett purchased the fraction of land on the river above stevens, col. emanuel case the fraction above bassett's, a. e. ames the eighty where the court house stands, and edwin hedderly the fraction below the water power. mr. stevens made the first survey of village lots in the spring of ; chas. w. christmas, surveyor. the smith claim was surveyed by w. r. marshall in the fall of . in atwater's addition was surveyed. other additions were added from year to year as the growth of the city demanded. at the release of the reservation in , the entire present site of the city was covered with claims. the name minneapolis, derived from an indian word _minne_, meaning _water_, and a greek word _polis_, meaning _city_, had been early applied to the new village, chas. hoag having first suggested the name. in march, , the commissioners of hennepin county adopted the name as that of a territorial precinct. a government land office had been established in , of which m. l. olds was register and r. p. russell receiver. the first, newspaper, the minneapolis _democrat_, was established in . during the same year the masons and odd fellows organized lodges, the presbyterians, baptists and methodists organized societies, and public schools were established. in the court house, at a cost of $ , , a school house, and several churches were erected. the village of minneapolis was organized in . h. t. welles was the first president. in minneapolis obtained a city charter. minneapolis and st. anthony falls were united under the same government, by act of legislature, approved feb. , , under the name of minneapolis, st. anthony falls being recognized in the directory as east minneapolis. the united cities elect in common a mayor and city council, but each is financially responsible as to contracts existing previous to the union, and each maintains its own schools. we append a list of mayors of the two cities prior and subsequent to the union: mayors of st. anthony falls. . h. t. welles. . alvaren allen. . wm. w. wales. . orrin curtis. . orrin curtis. . r. b. graves. . o. c. merriman. . o. c. merriman. . edwin s. brown. . o. c. merriman. . wm. w. wales. . o. c. merriman. . o. c. merriman. . winthrop young. . w. w. mcnair. . w. w. mcnair. . edwin s. brown. mayors of minneapolis. . dorillius morrison . hugh g. harrison. . dorillius morrison. . eli b. ames. . eli b. ames. mayors of minneapolis subsequent to the union with st. anthony falls. . eugene m. wilson. . george a. bracket. . eugene m. wilson. . o. c. merriman. . albert a. ames. . john delittre. . a. c. rand. . a. c. rand. . a. c. rand. . a. c. rand. . a. a. ames. . a. a. ames. . geo. pillsbury. . geo. pillsbury. . a. a. ames. . a. a. ames. . a. a. ames. water versus steam. some wonder has been expressed that in the vicinity of one of the finest water powers on this continent there should be found so many saw mills run by steam. the question is partly an economical one, as owing to the heavy expenses entailed upon mill owners to prevent the retrogression of the falls, it may be cheaper for saw mill owners to use steam, especially as they can feed their furnaces with but little expense from the slabs and debris of their own lumber; but in this case a weightier reason may be found in the fact that the west side of the river has been occupied chiefly by flouring mills, and the saw mills are moved to less eligible localities, and find it more convenient and economical to use steam instead of water. terrific explosion at the flour mills. one of the most remarkable mill disasters of modern times occurred may , , in the washington a mill. about p. m. the sound of a terrific explosion was heard and the city was shaken as by an earthquake. the mill in which it occurred was utterly demolished, as were also the humboldt, the zenith and the palisade, while several others were badly wrecked. there were fourteen lives lost and the property destroyed amounted in value to over $ , , . the cause of the explosion was at first not understood, but on thorough investigation was finally attributed to a mixture of exceedingly fine grain and flour dust with the air of the mills, in such proportion as to form a combustible mixture, which was accidentally ignited. the mills destroyed have since been replaced by better ones. the great pilsbury a mill, which is perhaps beyond question the largest in the world, was begun in the following year. a canal was cut to supply it with power, and it was equipped with two victor turbine water wheels of , horse power each and a , horse power engine; it was furnished with pairs of rollers, middlings purifiers, run of stone, bolting reels and other devices in keeping. suburban resorts--lake minnetonka. this magnificent lake is miles southwest of minneapolis, and miles from st. paul. its extreme length is about miles, varying in width from to miles. its water area is about , acres, and its shore line is estimated at nearly miles. a glance at the map will show what a variety of scenery it must have, being so broken and irregular. its banks and islands are covered with forest trees except at a few points where villages have been located, or where some farmer had, years ago, cleared himself a farm. there are three villages on minnetonka, viz.: excelsior, wayzata and mound city. excelsior was settled in , by a colony from new york state, and named from the title adopted by the organization before leaving home. it was incorporated about . it is located on a range of hills on the south shore of lake minnetonka, of which it has a commanding view. its present population is about . it has two railways, the minneapolis & st. louis and the st. paul, minneapolis & manitoba, and a motor line. it is distant miles from minneapolis. the oldest settlement on the lake is wayzata, on the north shore of lake minnetonka, miles from minneapolis, via the st. paul, minneapolis & manitoba railway, which passes through the village. the name wayzata is a corruption of the indian word wy-ze-a-ta, meaning north shore, or north side. the village contains about inhabitants, and commands considerable trade from the surrounding country. there are several fine hotels upon the lake, equal if not superior to the famous hotels of eastern watering places. prominent among these are the hotel lafayette, built at a cost of $ , , the lake park hotel and excelsior house. railways reach the lake at several points, and steamers make regular trips for tourists. minnehaha falls, rendered famous in longfellow's poems of hiawatha, is located on minnehaha creek, midway between fort snelling and st. anthony falls. it is deservedly a favored resort. public buildings in minneapolis costing $ , and upward. court house (not completed) $ , , post office , exposition hall , science hall , library building , soldiers' home, near minnehaha falls , state university , chamber of commerce , temple court , masonic temple , city market house , athenæum , hennepin avenue theatre , washburn orphan asylum , house of good shepherd , loan and trust company , guaranty life and trust , lumber exchange , builders' exchange , knights of labor exchange , s. c. hall lumber company , bank of commerce , union elevator , minneapolis & pacific elevator , st. anthony elevator , boston block , nicollet house block , albert johnson block , globe block , wright block , mutual block , glen block , langdon block , central block, terrace , syndicate block , west hotel , , gates' tenements , lowry's residence , eastman & cook's saw mill , soo & st marie shops , north minneapolis pumping station , tubular car works , buel tenement block , pillsbury a flour mill , , washburn a flour mill , washburn b flour mill , morrison flour mill , christian & co.'s flour mill , high school building , church of the dominican fathers , aggregate value of school property , , aggregate value of church property , , aggregate value of parks and boulevards , , post office statistics for . general business $ , money orders , , income , expense , history of the post office at minneapolis, minn. postmasters. established jan. , hezekiah fletcher. dec. , carlos wilcoz. april , alfred e. ames. april , samuel hidden. aug. , william p. ankeny. april , david morgan. july , daniel bassett. nov. , william w. mcnair. march , cyrus aldrich. april , geo. h. keith. june , orlo m. laraway. june , john j. ankeny. the bonded debt of the city is $ , , . the city can not create a debt nor issue bonds to a greater amount than five per cent of the assessed valuation of city property, and the charter prohibits a floating debt. the tax assessments for $ , , barrels of flour manufactured , , value of other manufactures $ , , feet of lumber manufactured , , elevator capacity (bushels) , , bushels of wheat received , , eight bridges span the river at minneapolis as crossings for the various railroads. the stone arch viaduct of the st. paul, minneapolis & manitoba cost $ , . municipal expenses, $ , , . the following table gives the cut of lumber in minneapolis for the last sixteen years: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , west minneapolis. west minneapolis is located about eight miles from the court house, in sections and of township , range , and is not included within minneapolis' city limits. the chicago, milwaukee & st. louis, the hastings & dakota, and the st. paul, minneapolis & manitoba railroads have stations here. it was surveyed in , and organized shortly after. it has two threshing machine and other extensive manufactories. the hennepin county poor farm is located near by. calvin a. tuttle.--mr. tuttle was born in holland, connecticut, in . he received an academic education, and remained with his parents until of age. he learned the trade of millwright with his father. in he went to bangor, maine, and worked at his trade until , when he removed to alton, illinois. he came to st. croix in , and superintended the building of a mill. in he returned to alton, where he was married to charlotte winkler. he lived in davenport, iowa, four years and one year at chippewa falls. in he removed to st. anthony falls, where he helped build the first saw mill. here he worked eight years almost continuously at his trade. he purchased two hundred acres of land here, including university lands, which he sold for $ , . he removed to west st. anthony in , to robert smith's government permit, and then ran the old government flouring mill, grinding only for the government. the grain, about , bushels annually, was brought from st. louis. for holding smith's permit, and grinding, he received one-eighth of the property. the government grinding was done for the privilege of making a claim on the government reservation. this claim, eighty acres in extent, located in what was then called west st. anthony, now in the heart of minneapolis, is worth millions of dollars. mr. tuttle sold his interest for $ , . the old mill was built of stone, x feet, ground dimensions, two stories in height, with one run of stone. the mill was built in . there was a farm near the mill, cultivated by soldiers. mr. tuttle returned to east st. anthony in , and removed to minnetonka in , where he lived five years. thence he removed to twin rivers, morrison county. he has a saw mill, farm and good home at twin rivers. in he returned to minneapolis to spend the remainder of his days. cyrus aldrich.--the subject of this memoir was born june , , in smithfield, rhode island. his father was dexter aldrich, and was engaged in shipping and merchandising. his mother's maiden name was hannah white. she was a descendant of peregrine white, the first male child born after the landing of the pilgrim fathers. he received such an education as could be obtained at the common schools until he was eighteen years of age, when he left home to engage for a few years in a seafaring life. this life not proving to his taste, he abandoned it and engaged in other pursuits. at the age of twenty-nine he emigrated to illinois and located at alton, where he took a contract on the michigan and erie canal. in , or about four years later, he removed to galena, illinois, where he secured employment with the firm of galbraith & porter, and engaged in staging and mail contracts. in he was elected to the illinois legislature. the same year he was married to clara heaton, of indiana, who, with one son and one daughter, survives him. in he was elected register of deeds of joe daviess county; in was appointed receiver of the land office at dixon, illinois; and in ran for congress on the whig ticket against long john wentworth, but was defeated by a small majority. he removed to minnesota in , locating at minneapolis, then but a small village. in he was elected a member of the republican wing of the constitutional convention, where his ability for leadership soon brought him to the front. in he was nominated and elected representative to congress, minnesota having meanwhile become a state. in he was re-elected. this was a trying time, but mr. aldrich acquitted himself well, and was especially commended for his devotion to the interests of the soldiers. in he declined a re-election, but allowed his name to be used (though unsuccessfully) as a candidate for the senate. he did not, however, entirely withdraw from public affairs, but accepted an appointment from president lincoln as a member of the indemnity committee to adjust claims of settlers who had suffered during the indian outbreak of . he also devoted much of his time and energy to the establishment of the northern pacific railway. in he was elected to the minnesota legislature. in he was appointed postmaster of minneapolis, which position he held for four years. his long and busy life has been spent chiefly in public service. he had not quite reached the scriptural limit of human life, but it was evident that his iron constitution had been overtasked and that he needed rest. the retirement and rest came too late. his health gradually failed until oct. , , when he closed his eyes upon the scenes of earth. his funeral, conducted from the universalist church, of which he was a member, was one of the largest ever held in the state. citizens of all parties and classes, the masonic and other social and civil bodies combined in paying the last tribute of respect to one who for fifteen years had been the most active, best known and most respected of their number. alfred elisha ames, m.d., was born at colchester, vermont, dec. , . he was the oldest son of billy and phebe (baker) ames, whose ancestors were early colonists from england. alfred e. commenced the study of medicine in . he occasionally taught school and worked at his trade of brickmason. he also varied his labors by publishing an arithmetic. he came west in , locating first at springfield, illinois; concluded his medical studies at rush medical college, chicago, in . before leaving illinois he was elected to the state senate. in he came to st. anthony falls, made a claim, and entered into partnership with dr. j. h. murphy. in he served as surgeon at fort snelling, and in was elected to the territorial legislature as a member of the house. in he was elected probate judge; in member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention, and in became a member of the state normal board. during the remainder of his life he devoted himself to the practice of medicine, but also served the public in many positions of trust. he died dec. , . his wife and five children survive him. albert alonzo ames, son of dr. a. e. and martha (pratt) ames, was born at garden prairie, illinois, jan. , . he received a high school education at minneapolis, studied medicine at rush medical college, chicago, and graduated february, . in august, , he enlisted in the ninth minnesota volunteers, but shortly after was commissioned assistant surgeon of the seventh minnesota volunteers. he served for awhile in the indian campaigns. in the fall of the regiment was ordered south. in july, , he was commissioned as surgeon of the seventh regiment in place of dr. l. b. smith, killed at tupelo. he was mustered out of service at the close of the war with an excellent record as a physician and surgeon. after the war he devoted himself to the practice of his profession and to public services in minneapolis, excepting a period of six years spent in editorial life in california, first on the staff of the _daily times_, and later as managing editor of the _alta californian_. at the death of his father, in , he returned to minneapolis and resumed practice. he has filled the following positions of trust: , member of the minnesota legislature (house); , member of the city council; , mayor of minneapolis; , democratic nominee for lieutenant governor (not elected); , democratic candidate for governor (not elected); - - , again mayor of minneapolis. dr. ames is a member of such prominent fraternities as the masonic, odd fellows, druids, knights of pythias, and order of elks. dr. ames was married april , , to sarah, daughter of capt. richard strout, of minneapolis. jesse ames was born in vinalhaven, maine, feb. , . from the age of fourteen till his retirement in , mr. ames devoted himself to a seafaring life. at the age of twenty-three he was captain of a schooner, and afterward of different ships, brigs, barks or schooners, all of them in the mercantile trade. he made between twenty and thirty voyages to europe, circumnavigated cape horn several times, and sailed twice round the globe. few men have seen more of the world. his last voyage was from new zealand to london, where he sold his ship, and, coming to america, found him a beautiful home in the north star state. he is a resident of northfield, and is, with his son john t., the owner of the well known flouring mills at that place. he was married oct. , , to margaret tolman, of rockland, maine. they have two sons, one of whom, john t., is a resident of northfield. the other son, adelbert a., won distinction during the civil war, leaving the service with the brevet rank of major general. since the war he has served as senator from mississippi, and as governor of that state. cadwallader c. washburn.--hon. c. c. washburn was a man of rare nobility of character and possessed of an acute and powerful mind. he used his great talents for the good of the country. he was a man of philanthropic impulses and great generosity, as the following munificent gifts to the public will attest: _first_--to the state of wisconsin, in , an astronomical observatory, located on the university lands at madison, in style of architecture and apparatus to carry into execution the design of the institution, equal, if not superior, to that of any like institution in the world. _second_--the donation of his "edgewood home," near madison, wisconsin, for educational purposes. _third_--the generously established school located on the shores of lake harriet, near minneapolis, "the washburn home for orphans," for the poor and unfortunate children of minnesota. mr. washburn was born in livermore, maine, april , ; lived at home until , and devoted some time to obtaining a classical education. in and he taught school and clerked in hallowell and wiscassett, maine. in the spring of he came west to davenport, iowa, and was employed a few months with david dale owen, on geological work. in and he studied law at rock island. illinois. in he settled in mineral point, wisconsin, and was admitted to practice law at lancaster, grant county, in judge dunn's court. he continued in practice at mineral point; also engaged in real estate and dealing in land warrants, and in established the bank of mineral point. mr. washburn was elected representative to the thirty-fourth, thirty-fifth, thirty-sixth, and fortieth congresses. in february, , the house appointed a special committee of thirty-three members on the state of the union. a majority of the committee reported an amendment to the constitution of the united states, making slavery perpetual. mr. washburn and others made a minority report against making slavery perpetual. on this report we subjoin his remarks: "if this union must be dissolved, whether by peaceable process or through fire and blood or civil war, we shall have the consolation of knowing that when the conflict is over those who survive will be what they never have been--inhabitants of a free country." mr. washburn changed his residence to la crosse in . he received a colonel's commission to recruit a cavalry regiment that year, and subsequently was promoted to the rank of brigadier general. he was elected governor of wisconsin in . in he erected a large flour mill at minneapolis, which burned in . it was soon after rebuilt. in this mill he introduced the first hungarian patent process for making flour used in america. mr. washburn died at eureka springs, arkansas, may , . his body was brought to wisconsin and buried at la crosse. [illustration: w. d. washburn] william drew washburn, the youngest of the washburn brothers, was born at livermore, maine, jan. , . he worked upon his father's farm until twenty years of age; prepared himself for college by his own unaided efforts, entered bowdoin college, and graduated in . he studied law and was admitted to the bar in , and in the same year came to minneapolis as agent of the minneapolis mill company, of which he became a partner. in president lincoln appointed him surveyor general of minnesota. during his term of office, which continued four years, he lived in st. paul. on his return to minneapolis he built a large saw mill and engaged extensively in the lumber trade. he was the chief mover in the minneapolis & st. louis and minneapolis & pacific railways. he has a large lumber and flour mill at anoka, and with others erected the palisade flour mill at minneapolis. in he was elected representative to congress from the third district and re-elected in . he has also served in the state legislature. he was a principal proprietor of the minneapolis, sault ste. marie & atlantic railway, and was elected president of the company in . mr. washburn has been successful in his business ventures, has accumulated a handsome property, and been liberal in using his means in the interests of minneapolis and the state. he is eminently practical in his business ideas and methods, and affable and prepossessing in his manners. he married lizzie muzzy, of bangor, maine, in , and has two sons and two daughters living. joseph clinton whitney was born in springfield, vermont, april , . in he removed with his parents to lower canada, where he remained till he was twenty years of age. he went to oberlin, ohio, ; graduated from the college in , and from union theological seminary in . the same year he removed to stillwater, where he organized the first presbyterian church, of which he served as pastor until , when he was called to the pastorate of the first presbyterian church at minneapolis, where he remained four years. he removed to forest city, meeker county, but returned to minneapolis in . in he enlisted in company d, sixth minnesota volunteers, and served three years. in president lincoln appointed him quartermaster with the rank of captain. in he returned to minneapolis and engaged in business. in he was elected state senator from the fifth district. mr. whitney has been greatly interested in the cause of education. he was a principal mover in establishing the public schools of minneapolis, of bennett seminary for young ladies, and of macalester college. he is president of the board of bennett seminary, and is one of the members of the state normal board. he was married july , , to eliza baird. they have three sons and two daughters. charles hoag was born in sandwich, new hampshire, in . he received a good education and taught school fifteen years. he came to minneapolis in , and occupied various positions of trust, having been a member of the first town council, the second treasurer of hennepin county, and the superintendent of schools four years, commencing with . mr. hoag suggested the name of minneapolis for the growing young city of his adoption. he was a man of marked ability and refinement, and although a strong partisan his many admirable personal qualities won the esteem of those who most radically differed from him. he was twice married, his first wife dying in . in he was married to miss susan f. jewett who, with a daughter, mrs. c. h. clark, and one son, levi, survives him. mr. hoag died february, . franklin steele.--no other pioneer has been more prominent in the early history of minneapolis than franklin steele. a bold, sagacious, enterprising man, he came in the very vanguard of civilization, and promptly and fearlessly availed himself of the splendid opportunities that this, then almost unknown, frontier afforded. we have not many data of his early life, but his history since he set foot in fort snelling is elsewhere given as a part of the early history of the section in which he located, and need not be here repeated. franklin steele was born in lancaster county, pennsylvania. he came west by the advice of president andrew jackson, and arrived at fort snelling just after the conclusion of the treaty by which the indians ceded their st. croix lands to the government; whereupon mr. steele visited st. croix falls, made a claim and proceeded to make further improvements, such as building mills, as elsewhere narrated. when appointed sutler of the army at fort snelling, he sold his st. croix claims and identified himself thereafter with the interests of st. anthony falls and the section adjacent thereto, where he made claims and improvements. among other enterprises illustrative of the faith of steele and others in the future greatness of the prospective river cities, the fact may be mentioned that an organized company built a wire suspension bridge over the river just above the falls, a work projected while the adjacent lands were still in the hands of the government, and completed in , at a time when such a structure was most needed and advantageous. mr. steele was a man of far more than ordinary ability. col. j. h. stevens says of him: "he has been a good friend to hennepin county, and as most of the citizens came here poor they never had to ask mr. steele a second time for a favor. fortune has favored him, and while many a family has reason to feel thankful for his generosity and kindness, he constantly made money." the county of steele was named after him. mr. steele was married to miss barney, a relative of the distinguished naval officer of that name. he died in minneapolis in . roswell p. russell was born in richland, vermont, march , . his privileges for education were limited. he came to michigan in and to fort snelling in . he came from prairie du chien to the fort in a mackinaw boat, part of the way on foot over the ice, and suffered much for want of food, sleep and from exposure. mr. russell remained at fort snelling until , engaged for two years in the indian trade, made a claim at st. anthony falls in , and opened the first store, in a log building, at that place. in he was appointed receiver of the land office at minneapolis. he has since been actively engaged in farming, merchandising and real estate transactions. he was the first chairman of the st. anthony falls town board, and has served one term as representative in the state legislature. he was a true and steadfast friend to his adopted city. he was married at st. anthony falls, oct. , , to marion patch. they have a family of seven sons and three daughters: lucy c., wife of w. c. colbrath; charles m., roswell p., mary bell, wife of f. m. prince, of stillwater; carrie e., wife of f. l. lovejoy, of fargo, dakota; frank and fred, twin brothers; geo. b. mc----, died in ; william and edward e. horatio phillips van cleve was born in princeton, new jersey, nov. , . he was educated at princeton college and west point, graduating from the latter institution in . he served five years in the army, resigning in . he followed farming and engineering in michigan until , when he came to morrison county, minnesota. in he enlisted as a volunteer in the second regiment, minnesota infantry, of which regiment he was commissioned colonel. he served during the war and left the service with a major general's commission, and has since served as adjutant general of the state of minnesota. he was the postmaster of st. anthony falls prior to the union of that city with minneapolis. he was married to charlotte o. clarke, daughter of maj. gen. clarke of the united states army. they have seven children. charlotte ouisconsin van cleve, a daughter of gen. clarke of the united states army, was born at fort crawford, prairie du chien, wisconsin, in . soon after her birth her father came up the river on a flatboat to the site of fort snelling. they were six weeks making the voyage. miss charlotte grew up amidst military surroundings, and on a remote frontier, and was married at fort winnebago, wisconsin, to horatio p. van cleve, when she had barely attained the age of sixteen years. her husband resigned his position in the army about the time of his marriage, and removed to michigan, but since her home has been in minnesota. of her children six sons are living in hennepin county. a daughter is the wife of h. v. hall, a missionary to the sandwich islands. besides her own family she has reared five orphans. she is intellectually active and vigorous, takes great interest in the reforms of the day, and is a noble specimen of the pioneer women of the state. she is the founder of the bethany home in minneapolis. she has specially interested herself in the poor, the downtrodden and the outcast classes of human society, and has exercised in this direction an untold influence for good. ard godfrey was born at orono, maine, jan. , . he came to st. anthony falls in , and was among the first to make improvements in utilizing the water power furnished by the falls. he built a dam and mill, and subsequently engaged in lumbering. in he settled on a claim near minnehaha falls, where he built a saw and grist mill, some years later destroyed by fire. he was married in maine, january, , and has a family of six children. he still lives at his old homestead near minnehaha falls. richard chute was born in cincinnati, ohio, sept. , . he first visited st. anthony falls in , and built a trading house. he was one of the firm of w. g. ewing & co. in he located permanently at the falls where he has been engaged in real estate operations, milling and other branches of business. he has been successful in his undertakings, and is a man of excellent standing in the community. lucius n. parker was born in chester, vermont, dec. , . he came to illinois in his boyhood and remained there till eighteen years of age, when he came to marine, minnesota, and engaged in lumbering. in he was one of the proprietors of the osceola (polk county, wisconsin) mills. in he sold out his interest, removed to st. anthony falls and carried the mail between st. paul and that city. he removed to the west side of the river, known now as minneapolis, and has since resided there. he was married to amanda huse in . capt. john rollins was born in march, , at new sharon, maine. while in maine he followed lumbering and hotel keeping. in he came to the falls and engaged in lumbering, steamboating, milling and farming. he was a member of the first territorial council of minnesota, in - . he was married to betsey martin at newport, maine, in . they have seven children living. capt. rollins died in . john g. lennon was born in bolton, england, july , . he came to america in as supercargo of a vessel bound to new orleans. in he located at st. croix falls, removed to st. paul in , and in to st. anthony falls, where he entered the service of the st. anthony outfit. in he engaged in the lumbering and mercantile business and in removed to a stock farm in sibley county. during the civil war he served as assistant commissary, and through gen. sibley's indian campaign. at the suppression of the indian revolt his regiment was transferred south and attached to the sixteenth army corps, under gen. a. j. smith and division commander gen. joseph mower and he served as quartermaster until mustered out at the close of the war, when he returned to civil life and commenced dealing in real estate. in he returned to minneapolis. he was married to mary d. mclain in . he died in august, , leaving a widow and two children. john h. stevens.--col. stevens traces his ancestry to the moors who, during the wars of the alhambra were carried captive to france, where they became known as huguenots. driven by persecution from france to england, they emigrated thence with the puritans on the mayflower to america. col. stevens was born june , , in lower canada, whither his parents had emigrated from vermont. his father gave him an excellent education. at an early day john h. came to the lead mines of south wisconsin. during the war with mexico he served as a soldier, and after the war, in , came to the northwest and located on the west bank of the mississippi, at st. anthony falls, where he built the first frame house on the west side, on ground that afterward became the site of the union depot. he was a member of the lower house of the legislature of , and has filled other public positions with honor to himself. he has been influential in municipal affairs, and always a staunch advocate of the interests of his city, county and state. he is the author of a book of "reminiscences of pioneer life." he was married at rockford, illinois, in , to frances helen miller. they have one son, francis h. g., and three daughters, orma, sarah and kittie d., wife of p. b. winston. caleb d. dorr was born at east great works, penobscot county, maine. he became a practical lumberman, and, coming to the falls in , bought of hole-in-the-day, a chippewa chief at swan river, one hundred trees at five dollars per tree, for st. anthony falls improvements, the first timber floated down the mississippi above the mouth of rum river. mr. dorr was in the employ of the government for ten years, locating state and school lands. he has followed the business of scaling logs, and has also been boom master. he was married to celestia a. ricker, of maine, march , . rev. edward duffield neill, the well known author of the "history of minnesota," was born in philadelphia aug. , . he was educated at the university of pennsylvania and amherst college, massachusetts, graduating from the latter in . he studied theology at andover theological seminary, massachusetts, and in preached as a missionary amongst the miners in and around galena, illinois. he was transferred to st. paul in april, , where he organized a society and erected the first protestant church building in minnesota not on mission grounds. it was situated on third and market streets. he also built for himself, on the corner of fourth and washington streets, the first brick house in the city. in he organized the house of hope society and acted as its pastor five years. he was also the prime mover in establishing the baldwin school. in he secured the building of the st. paul college, for some years conducted as a classical school and afterward consolidated with the baldwin school. he was the first territorial superintendent of public instruction, in - , and served as state superintendent from to . he was called to fill many educational trusts. april , , he was appointed chaplain of the first minnesota volunteers, and served as such over two years. he was with his regiment at the battles of bull run, fair oaks and malvern hill. president lincoln appointed him hospital chaplain, he became one of the president's private secretaries, and continued in that relation during the presidency of andrew johnson. in president grant appointed him united states consul at dublin, where he resided two years. returning to minnesota in , he removed to minneapolis and conducted the baldwin school and st. paul college, under the title of macalester college, and located his school in the old winslow house, minneapolis. in january, , mr. neill connected himself with the reformed episcopal church. mr. neill has been a busy worker in literary, chiefly historical, fields. editions of his "history of minnesota" were published in , and . he has published many other valuable historical works. he is a ready and versatile writer, and is an authority on the subjects concerning which he treats. mr. neill was married to nancy hill, at snow hill, maryland. their children are samuel henry, edward duffield and john selby martin. john wensignor, a native of switzerland, was born may , ; came to america in , to st. anthony falls in , and engaged successfully in mercantile pursuits. mr. wensignor has been a generous man to the poor, and although public spirited, has persistently declined office. mr. wensignor died in . robert h. hasty was born in york county, maine, dec. , . he came to stillwater in , and engaged in lumbering. he was surveyor general of the first district two years. he enlisted in company i, sixth minnesota, at the organization of the regiment in , was commissioned second lieutenant, promoted to first lieutenant, and resigned jan. , . in he removed to crystal lake, minnesota. stephen pratt, a native of penobscot county, maine, was born, in ; came to st. anthony falls in october, , where he followed lumbering until . he was a member of the first minnesota cavalry during the rebellion. in he removed to a farm. he died in . capt. john tapper was born in dorsetshire, england, march , ; came to america in , and to prairie du chien and fort snelling in . he served as a soldier during the mexican war. he was the first toll collector on the st. anthony falls wire suspension bridge. he finally located on steele's farm near minnehaha falls, and is now living in clayton county, iowa. r. w. cummings was born in lycoming, pennsylvania, june, . he settled at cottage grove, minnesota, in , and in made a claim in st. anthony, and improved it as a farm until the city required it for lots, since which time he has been engaged in the real estate business. elias h. conner was born in new sharon, maine, in . in he came to lakeland, minnesota, and in to st. anthony falls, where he had charge of the work on the first suspension thrown across the mississippi at that point. he also built the first bridge that spanned the st. croix at taylor's falls. in he was married to hannah rollins. c. f. stimson was born in maine, april , . he came to stillwater in june, , and thence to st. anthony falls, where he followed lumbering. he was treasurer of ramsey county for one year. in he moved to his farm near elk river. he has a wife and two children. william dugas was born in three rivers, canada east, may , . he came to new york in . he spent some time traveling, visiting africa, new orleans, indian territory, iowa, and illinois, and other places more or less remote. he came to minnesota in , and was a representative in the first territorial legislature. later he removed to st. anthony falls. he afterward removed to dayton, minnesota. he was married at prairie du chien in . davis gorham was born in quebec; came to virginia, where he spent two years, and thence to maine, where he lived twelve years. in april, , he came to st. anthony falls, and made valuable land claims near lake calhoun. he followed lumbering for about twelve years. in he started for california, but was driven back by the sioux indians. in he settled in plymouth, where he has been supervisor for ten years. edwin hedderly was born in philadelphia in . in he came to st. anthony falls and in made a claim of one hundred and sixty acres west of the river, within the present bounds of minneapolis. he served on various committees for selecting a name for the new city and its streets, and until his death was ever active and influential in all matters pertaining to the welfare of the city. he was married to mary j. kennard, of philadelphia. eight children of this union survive him and are residents of the city. mr. hedderly died in . louis neudeck, born december, , came to st. anthony falls in . he subsequently lived in missouri, illinois and at stillwater, but in returned to the falls. he died in . he was supposed to have been killed by indians while absent in montana, the only clue to his sad fate being the recovery of his revolver having his name inscribed on it, from an indian. he left a widow and five children. andrew j. foster was born in cooper, maine, june, , and came to the falls in , where he engaged in the lumbering, grocery, gardening, and real estate business. he married mrs. mary averill, of stillwater. their children are ada, william, owen and elmer. a. d. foster, a pennsylvanian, born in , came to st. anthony falls in . he assisted in building the gov. ramsey, the first boat above the falls. he has engaged in fruit culture and merchandising. he was married in pennsylvania and has three children; josiah, resident in indianapolis; lysander, a physician in minneapolis; and a daughter, married. charles e. vanderburgh, a native of clifton, parke county, new york, born dec. , , graduated at yale college an , and served for awhile as principal of oxford academy, new york. he studied law and was admitted to practice in . in he came to minneapolis, which has since been his home. in he was elected judge of the district court, which at that time embraced all the territory west of the mississippi from fort snelling to the north boundary line. he has been continuously re-elected, an evidence of the high estimation in which he is regarded by his fellow citizens. judge vanderburgh has been twice married. his first wife, julia m. mygatt, wedded sept. , , died april , , leaving two children, william henry and julia m. his second wife was anna culbert, married april , . they have one child, isabella mcintyre. his daughter julia was accidentally drowned sept. , . dorillius morrison was born at livermore, oxford county, maine, dec. , . he received a common school and academic education. he taught school awhile, and then engaged in the mercantile business, the last eleven years at bangor, when in the spring of he came to minneapolis, where he became prominent as a business man, following lumbering, dealing in real estate, milling and railway building. he is one of the projectors and proprietors of the minneapolis mill company. he is also sole owner and proprietor of a cotton mill costing $ , . he was deeply interested in the northern pacific railroad. he was the first mayor of minneapolis, in , and served as senator in the sixth legislature in may, . he was married to harriet putnam whitmore, a descendant of gen. israel putnam. they have three children, clinton and george henry, residents of minneapolis, and grace e., the wife of dr. h. h. kimball, of minneapolis. h. g. o. morrison, brother of dorillius, was born in livermore, maine, jan. , . he graduated at the bangor high school. he worked at printing in his youth, read law and was admitted to practice in , locating afterward at sebre, maine. he was a member of the maine senate in . in he came to st. anthony falls. he moved to dakota county soon after, and represented that county in the state legislatures of - . he resided in dakota county for twelve years. he was assessor of internal revenue from to , during which time he lived in st. paul. in he removed to minneapolis, where he has since resided. he has been twice married. his second wife was rebecca newell. they have three children, daniel w., samuel b. and stanford. judge f. r. e. cornell was born in , in chenango county, new york; was educated at union college, new york; studied law and was admitted to practice in . he came to minneapolis in . during his residence in new york he was a member of the state senate. in january, , he took his seat as associate justice of the supreme court of minnesota, which office he held until his death, which occurred in . gen. a. b. nettleton came from ohio, and became one of the editors of the minneapolis _tribune_. he served during the civil war, participated in seventy-three battles, and was promoted through the various grades from private to brigadier general. judge isaac atwater was born in homer, cortland county, new york. he graduated at yale college in , practiced law in new york city until , when he came to st. anthony falls and practiced law with g. w. north as partner. he was one of the first regents of the state university; edited the st. anthony _express_ from to ; served as district attorney from to ; was elected associate justice of the supreme bench in , resigned the position in , and removed to california, where he practiced law. after an absence of three years he returned to minneapolis, where he has been honored with the offices of alderman, president of the board of education, etc. he was married to pamelia a. sanborn in . their son john b. is associated with his father in law practice. rev. david brooks, a venerable pioneer clergyman of the methodist episcopal church, was born in england in . he was educated there and preached ten years in the wesleyan connection. he came to america in , and joined the methodist episcopal church, which he has served faithfully since as pastor and presiding elder in northern illinois, wisconsin and minnesota. he was among the pioneer preachers in the latter state. in he was presiding elder of a district that included all of the present minnesota conference. in he secured the charter for hamline university, and was instrumental in obtaining a donation of $ , from bishop hamline for its endowment. rev. jabez brooks, d.d., son of rev. david brooke, was born in england, and came to america in . he is a graduate of middleton wesleyan university. for several years he was professor of greek, and later president, of hamline university. he served also as professor of greek in lawrence university, appleton, wisconsin. he has for many years been professor of greek in the state university. john s. pillsbury was born in new hampshire, july , . he received a new england common school education. he came to the falls in , and by close application to business acquired a position of wealth and influence. he has occupied many prominent positions in minneapolis and the state. he served five terms as state senator, from the sixth to the tenth legislatures. in he was appointed a regent of the state university. he was elected governor of the state in , and re-elected in . he was married in november, , to mahala fisk, of warner, new hampshire. their children are ada, susie, may, sadie belle, and alfred fisk. henry t. welles was born in connecticut, april , , graduated at trinity college, and came to st. anthony falls in , where he engaged successfully in the lumbering, banking and real estate business. he is a liberal, public spirited citizen, contributing freely to all enterprises looking to the growth and welfare of the city as well as to charitable objects. david blakely has been prominent in journalism, having been connected at various times with papers in minneapolis, st. paul and chicago: he was one of the founders of the minneapolis _tribune_. william lochren, a native of tyrone, ireland, was born april , ; was brought to america when he was two years old; was educated in vermont; admitted to the bar, and came to the falls in , where he has since practiced law, excepting a term of service in the army during the rebellion as first lieutenant of company e, first minnesota volunteers. since the war he has served as city attorney, as state senator in , and as district judge from to the present time. in he was married to mrs. martha demmen, who died in . eugene m. wilson was born in , in monongalia county, virginia. his ancestors were scotch-irish, who came to this country at an early date. his grandfather served in the revolutionary war. mr. wilson graduated at jefferson college, cannonsburg, pennsylvania, in , read law with his father, was admitted to practice in , and came to minneapolis in . he served as united states district attorney during president buchanan's administration. during the rebellion he was captain of company a, first minnesota cavalry, serving on the frontier until , when the company was discharged by the completion of term of enlistment. [illustration: j. s. pillsbury] mr. wilson was a member of the united states house of representatives in - and state senator in . he served four years as mayor of minneapolis, from to . mr. wilson was married sept. , , to mary e. kimball, of minneapolis. they have three children, mary o., helen k. and eugenia. r. b. langdon, born in vermont in , received an academic education, and at twenty-two years of age commenced railroading on the rutland & burlington road. he has since been continuously engaged in superintending the construction of railroads in ten states of the union, and in supervised the grading of the st. paul & pacific, the first railroad enterprise in minnesota. he served as state senator for seven terms, commencing in and closing in (excepting the term of ). he has a wife and three children. wm. m. bracket, the originator of the minneapolis fire department, was born in maine in . his father served six years as consul at halifax, nova scotia, during which time william resided at that place. during the rebellion he served two years as a musician in the sixth maine volunteers, and was then appointed paymaster's clerk at washington, district of columbia. in he came to minneapolis, where he has since been continuously connected with the fire department. thomas b. and platt b. walker are natives of ohio. thomas b. came to minneapolis in , and engaged in surveying, railroad engineering and examining lands. by close application and sound judgment he has accumulated wealth, from which he dispenses liberally to worthy enterprises. he has contributed largely to the building of the athenæum. his wife is a prominent contributor to, and upholder of, the charitable enterprises of the city. platt b., a younger brother of thomas, is a fluent speaker, a popular lecturer and a kind hearted, genial man. he has been till lately editor and publisher of the _mississippi valley lumberman_, and has taken an active part in the improvements of the waterways of the west. austin h. young, a native of fredonia, new york, born dec. , , received his education at waukegan, illinois; removed to prescott, wisconsin, in ; commenced the practice of law in and served as state senator in wisconsin in . he came to minneapolis in and practiced law. he was elected judge of the fourth judicial district in . henry g. hicks was born in wyoming, new york, in . he learned the trade of harness maker; was educated at oberlin, ohio; served as a soldier during the war of the rebellion, and was wounded at the battle of missionary ridge. in he came to minneapolis. he was admitted to the bar in ; has served as sheriff, as city justice and as a representative in the twentieth, twenty-first and twenty-second state legislatures. he was elected district judge in . john p. rea was born oct. , , in chester county, pennsylvania. he received a common school education. in he enlisted in company b, eleventh ohio volunteers, and was breveted major for meritorious services. in he graduated at ohio wesleyan college; studied law and was admitted to the bar in . in he removed to minneapolis; edited the _tribune_ one year; continued his law practice in ; was elected probate judge, served four years, and in was elected district judge without opposition. he has been an active grand army man, a member of geo. n. morgan post, and has served as commander of minnesota state department, also as senior vice commander-in-chief of the national department. in he was elected commander-in-chief of the national department of the grand army. in he was married to miss emma gould, of ohio. john martin was born in caledonia county, vermont, in . his educational advantages were limited to the common schools. he was raised on a farm, but at eighteen years of age bought his time of his father for sixty dollars. for twelve years he followed steamboating, seven on the connecticut river and five on the neuce river in north carolina. in he went to california, but returned to vermont the following year, and for two years engaged in farming. he came to minneapolis in , where he engaged in lumbering and dealing in pine lands. in the past twelve years he has been interested in railroad enterprises. he has been vice president of the minneapolis & st. louis, and minneapolis, sault ste. marie & atlantic railway companies. mr. martin is an enterprising and sagacious business man, and is highly esteemed for his many excellent qualities. he was married in vermont in , to jane gilfillan, and has one daughter. john dudley was born in penobscot county, maine, in . he came to minneapolis in , where he engaged in business, dealing in logs and lumber. he built mills in prescott in . the flour mill at prescott has a capacity of one hundred barrels per day, and the saw mill a capacity of , , feet per annum. he recently purchased the saw mill at point douglas built by a. j. short. this mill has a capacity of , , feet. [illustration: st. anthony falls in . view of suspension bridge above the falls, and st. paul, minneapolis & manitoba railway bridge below the falls.] chapter xx. ramsey county. ramsey county, named in honor of gov. ramsey, includes an area of about four whole towns lying between anoka county on the north, washington on the east and the mississippi river on the southwest. it was organized by the first territorial legislature. its surface is undulating, and somewhat abruptly hilly along the mississippi. it is well watered and drained by the tributaries of the mississippi, and has besides many beautiful lakes. its first officers were: register of deeds, david day; sheriff, p. c. lull; judge of probate, henry a. lambert; treasurer, james w. simpson; county attorney, w. d. phillips; county surveyor, s. p. folsom; coroner, j. e. fullerton; clerk of court, j. k. humphrey; auditor, alexander buchanan; court commissioner, oscar malmros; district judge, e. c. palmer; common pleas judge, w. s. hall; county commissioners, ard godfrey, louis robert; senator, w. h. forbes; representatives, b. w. brunson, john l. dewey, henry jackson, parsons k. johnson. rev. lucian galtier, a catholic priest who visited the upper mississippi in the spring of , has the honor of naming the then unpromising city of st. paul. others had been on the site before him. a few families had been banished from the vicinity of fort snelling and had found homes a few miles further down the river. these were not all reputable people, for amongst them was one pierre parrant, who, on account of the appearance of one of his eyes, which was sightless, was known as "pig's eye." parrant sold whisky, and was, from all accounts, an unscrupulous and worthless fellow. as a matter of course, his establishment being to many the chief attraction of the place, it was called by his nickname. the indians would travel hundreds of miles to _the place where they sell minne waukan_ (whisky). the location was near the once well known fountain cave. the name of "pig's eye" might have been perpetually fastened upon the young city but for the timely arrival of father galtier, who gave to it the name of st. paul, because, as he says in a letter to bishop grace, referring to the fact that the name st. peter (mendota) had already been affixed to a place some miles above, "as the name of st. paul is generally associated with that of st. peter, and the gentiles being well represented in the new place in the persons of the indians, i called it 'st. paul.'" it does not appear that father galtier was ever a resident of st. paul, as he only came at stated times to hold services and administer the sacraments. the name pig's eye was subsequently transferred to a place several miles below, where it is still retained. the best known of the first settlers of st. paul are b. gervais, vetal guerin and pierre bottineau. the two former gave to father galtier the ground necessary for a church site and cemetery. "accordingly," writes the good father, "in the month of october logs were prepared and a church erected so poor that it would well remind one of the stable at bethlehem. it was destined, however, to be the nucleus of a great city. on the first day of november in the same year i blessed the new _basilica_ and dedicated it to st. paul, the apostle of nations. i expressed a wish at the same time that the settlement would be known by the same name, and my desire was obtained." during the fall of father augustin ravoux arrived from below and became a resident of minnesota and later of st. paul. in rev. b. t. kavanaugh established a mission at red rock. henry jackson came from galena the same year, established a trading post and did well. he was afterward a member of the first territorial legislature and of the first town council. jackson street perpetuates his name. sergt. mortimer and stanislaus bilanski also came in . the accessions of were john r. irvine. c. c. blanchard, j. w. simpson, a. b. coy, wm. hartshorn, a. l. larpenteur, scott campbell, antoine pepin, alexander mege, a. r. mcleod, alexis clautier, joseph gobin, david t. sloan, joseph desmarais, louis larrivier and xavier delonais. these mostly engaged in trade. messrs. irvine, blanchard, hartshorn and coy, and later, mege, were associated together. some of the last named accessions of were canadian french, half-breeds, or allied by marriage to the indians. there were other settlers of whom we can find only casual mention, probably transients or adventurers. the prominent accessions of were capt. louis robert, charles bazille, wm. dugas, francis mccoy and joseph hall. louis robert was a trader, bazille was a carpenter and built this summer for capt. robert the first frame house in st. paul. this house was built of hewn lumber, sawed lumber not being obtainable. it was on the lower levee, and was used as a warehouse but was moved to east fourth street, where, as no. , it was still standing a few years ago. dugas was a millwright and built a saw and grist mill on phalen's creek (spelled in an old deed faylin's creek). the mill was a failure. dugas was a man of some prominence and represented the new canada precinct in the first territorial legislature. mccoy and hall were carpenters. this year the governor of wisconsin territory appointed henry jackson a justice of the peace. jackson, before his commission arrived, married an eager couple by bond, they giving bond to reappear when he should receive his commission and be legally united. jackson was justice of the peace, postmaster, hotel keeper, legislator, and clerk of court combined in one. this fall father galtier was transferred to keokuk and father a. ravoux took charge of the churches at mendota and st. paul. rev. j. hurlbut, a methodist missionary, held the first protestant service, using the house of henry jackson for that purpose. the first deed on record bears date of april , , and transfers from henry jackson, st. croix county, wisconsin territory, to william hartshorn, of st. louis, missouri, for a consideration of $ , , half of the following tract of land in st. croix county, wisconsin territory, being the place where the said jackson now lives, situate immediately on the mississippi river and known as the st. paul landing, containing three acres, with all buildings and improvements thereon. the permanent accessions of were francis chenevert, david benoit, leonard h. la roche, francis robert, augustus and david b. freeman, w. g. carter and charles cavileer. la roche was a carpenter, but engaged in trade. he bought the land on which the merchants hotel now stands for $ , and the year following built a cabin of tamarack logs, which was known as the st. paul house. this property he sold to s. p. folsom. la roche died at crow wing in . w. g. carter, better known as "gib" carter, was a member of the stillwater convention in . he died in . francis robert was a younger brother of louis robert. he died in , from an injury received while running the st. croix rapids in a birch canoe. chenevert clerked for capt. robert. he was unmarried, and died in . of benoit little or nothing is known. the freeman brothers were engaged in trade in connection with hartshorn and randall. david died in , and was buried by the odd fellows, the first odd fellow funeral in the territory. augustus freeman died in new york. cavileer was a saddler, and was connected at first with the red rock mission. he was territorial librarian for awhile, and is now a resident of pembina. miss matilda ramsey opened a school (the first in st. paul) and taught a short time, when she was married to alexander mege, and the school was abandoned. alexander r. mcleod, who came from selkirk settlement in with pierre bottineau, erected in and a log house between the catholic church and jackson's store. this was the first house built in st. paul expressly for a hotel. it was afterward enlarged and called the central house, and was kept by robert kennedy and others. the second deed on record bears date of may , , and transfers, for a consideration of $ , from william douglass to h. h. sibley, of clayton county, iowa, lands situate on what is known as faylin's (phalen's) creek, and more fully known as faylin's falls, acres, where said douglass now lives. this was a mortgage deed. a subsequent deed conveys the same premises from edward faylin to wm. douglass, for a consideration of $ . in february, , a quitclaim deed conveys the same tract to alexander mcleod. the settlers in were william h. and william randall, jr., father and son, james mcboal, thos. s. odell, john banfil, harley d. white, david faribault, louis denoyer, jo monteur, and charles roleau. randall, sr., engaged in trade and became immensely rich, but was wrecked in the financial panic of . he died in . randall, jr., is best remembered as an artist and caricaturist of no mean ability. he died in . mcboal was also an artist, the first who pursued that calling in st. paul. he was a member of the territorial council in - , and was adjutant general of the territory during gov. ramsey's administration. he died in mendota in . odell had been a soldier, but on being mustered out at fort snelling came to st. paul. he died in . we have made mention of white in biographical sketches. crittenden went to crow wing and represented the twenty-first district in the first state legislature. denoyer married a sister of louis robert and in removed to belle plaine. david faribault was a son of jean baptiste faribault. he now resides in dakota. banfil removed to manomin, and represented his district as senator in the first state legislature. the writer of these sketches visited st. paul in , and was entertained at jackson's hotel, which he well remembers as a log building, one story high, with store and post office in the east end, a dining room in the west end, with small, low sleeping rooms in the rear. the hotel stood on a romantic elevation, a precipitious bluff, and commanded a magnificent view of the river and valley. louis robert's tamarack pole store was located east of jackson's, under the bluff, and directly on the bank of the river, a good steamboat landing in front. west of jackson's was j. w. simpson's store, and still further west the store of faribault & co., beyond which were two small dwellings, all these buildings fronting the river. still further west, alexander mcleod was building a handsome hewed log house. on the next rise of ground stood the catholic church. on the next plateau the store of wm. hartshorn, and near a small creek the dwelling of john r. irvine. there were two residences on a plateau a short distance north of jackson's hotel. there were in all five stores, one tavern and a few dwellings, mostly built of logs. a few united states soldiers and indians were lounging about the stores, some drunk, some sober. such was st. paul in . the settlers of were jacob w. bass, harriet e. bishop, benj. w. brunson, dr. j. j. dewey, g. a. fonrnier, simeon p. folsom, w. h. forbes, aaron foster, daniel hopkins, parsons k. johnson, c. p. v. lull, and w. c. renfro. bass and johnson had been in the lumber business at chippewa falls. on arriving at st. paul mr. bass leased a hotel on the corner of third and jackson streets, known as the st. paul house. he was appointed postmaster in , and in opened a commission and forwarding warehouse on the levee. mr. brunson was a surveyor, and, assisted by his brother, ira b., laid off the town plat of st. paul, also a plat known as brunson's addition, in the fall of . he was a member of the first and second territorial legislatures, and justice of the peace for several years. [illustration] miss bishop was one of the company of teachers sent west by gov. slade. she organized the first permanent day school and the first sunday-school in st. paul. the school house was a cabin on the corner of third and st. peter streets. miss bishop, later mrs. mcconkey, was the author of a valuable book of frontier sketches entitled "floral homes." she died in . of mr. forbes mention is made in biographical sketches. aaron foster came from stillwater. he was a carpenter by trade. he married fanny mortimer, daughter of sergt. mortimer. he died in . s. p. folsom is mentioned in biographical sketches. dr. dewey, the first practicing physician in st. paul, was a member of the first territorial legislature, and established the first drug store in minnesota. parsons johnson, a descendant on his mother's side of jonathan carver, engaged in tailoring, the first of his trade in st. paul. he was a member of the first territorial legislature. cornelius v. p. lull was a carpenter. he served as sheriff in , and still lives in the city. daniel hopkins engaged in general merchandising. he died in . w. o. renfro, a cousin of henry jackson, had studied medicine, was a young man of ability but addicted to drinking habits. the winter after his arrival he wandered forth, suffering from _mania a potu_, and froze to death near the bend in phalen's creek. this year was memorable for the organization of a regular steamboat line from galena to mendota and fort snelling. the steamer argo was purchased for the trade. m. w. lodwick was made commander and russell blakely, clerk. the argo was designed to make weekly trips, but sank before the close of the season, and the dr. franklin was purchased to take her place the ensuing year. st. paul had not increased largely in population this year. one hotel and two dwellings had been built. some progress had been made in farming and gardening, and there was much lively talk on the subject of making claims. the prospective separation of minnesota into a territory, and the opening of the country for settlement gave a new impetus to business. the wisconsin convention for the adoption of a state constitution was held dec. , . its effects, however, were not greatly felt until toward the middle of the ensuing year. among the prominent accessions in to the population were henry m. rice, henry c. rhodes, david olmsted, w. d. phillips, e. a. c. hatch, bushrood w. lott, w. h. nobles, nathan myrick, a. h. cavender, benjamin f. hoyt, william freeborn, david lambert, w. c. morrison, lot moffett, and w. d. brown. of these rice, noble, hoyt and myrick are referred to in biographical sketches. mr. olmsted was a trader, and in the summer of the year established a trading post at long prairie, whither the winnebagoes had removed. he was a member of the first and second territorial councils, and the first mayor of st. paul, in . he removed to winona in , and died in . olmsted county, minnesota, is named in his honor. w. d. phillips, better known as "billy" phillips, was a somewhat eccentric character who passed for awhile as a lawyer in st. paul, and in drifted off into a clerkship at washington, since which time nothing has been heard of him. e. a. c. hatch was appointed indian agent to the blackfeet indians by president pierce in . in he was commissioned as major in the volunteer service, and acquitted himself creditably. while stationed at pembina, by strategy he captured the insurgent indians, shakopee and medicine bottle, who were hanged at fort snelling in . he died in . h. o. rhodes was engaged in trade with david olmsted. he died in california some years ago. a. h. cavender was a blacksmith and wagonmaker on robert street in . wm. freeborn was quite a prominent citizen and member of the town council. he is better known as one of the founders of red wing, to which place he removed in . he represented his district in the territorial councils of , , and . he removed to california in . freeborn county is named for him. david lambert, a prominent member of the stillwater convention, was a young man of promise, but addicted to drink. in , while suffering from a delirious paroxysm induced by drink, he jumped from the deck of a steamer and was drowned. w. c. morrison originally came from new york, thence to cleveland, detroit, chicago, galena, dubuque, and other places and lastly to st. paul, where he is widely and favorably known as a business man. lot moffett will be remembered as the builder and proprietor of the picturesque heap of rocks known as "moffett's castle," where he kept a temperance hotel for several years. he was a man of patriarchal appearance, wearing a long, white beard. he was known as an honest, kind hearted, benevolent man. he died in . w. b. brown came from wisconsin and purchased the corner on which the warner block now stands. he died some years ago. to enumerate the accessions to the population in would require more space than we are allowed. the fact that st. paul was this year designated as the territorial capital brought in a great number of official personages, and an army of traders, boarding house keepers, builders and adventurers. heretofore mendota had seemed to be the objective point of steam navigation. it also aspired to be the capital of the new territory. senator douglas, chairman of the committee on territories, favored mendota. gen. sibley, the territorial delegate, favored st. paul, and earnestly solicited the senator to yield, which, along with the personal appeals of h. m. rice, finally secured his acquiescence, and the bill to form minnesota territory, with st. paul as its capital, finally passed march , . the news, however, did not reach the capital until april th, it having been brought up on the dr. franklin, no. , the first boat of the season. on may th the newly appointed governor, alexander ramsey, arrived with his wife, but not being able to obtain accommodations in st. paul went for the time to mendota, where they were entertained by hon. h. h. sibley. every succeeding boat was crowded with emigrants. a newspaper was an immediate necessity. the first steps had been taken the year before by dr. a. randall, of owen's geological survey. dr. randall was not immediately able to carry his project into effect, and not till april , , did the promised paper, the _minnesota register_, appear. the first copy had, however, been printed at cincinnati two weeks earlier. of this paper maj. john p. owens was publisher. the first number of the second paper in the city was issued april th. this was the st. paul _pioneer_, james m. goodhue, publisher and editor. these papers and others established later became faithful chroniclers of the progress of the city, and invaluable as historical documents. the first number of goodhue's paper, the st. paul _pioneer_, bearing date of april , , contains what we may designate as the earliest news. we cull a few items that maybe of interest to antiquarians: it announces congressman sibley's return from washington, rev. e. d. neill's removal to st. paul, and that the latter would preach the following sabbath at the school house. an editorial paragraph calls attention to the fact that the _pioneer_ is printed in a building situated on third street near robert, and that the building has five hundred apertures through which the daylight is streaming. the arrival of steamer franklin, no. , bringing the tidings of the passage of the bill organizing minnesota territory, is announced. the steamer was greeted by a large crowd of eager and excited citizens, whose shouts re-echoed amongst the adjacent hills. arrival of steamers cora and dr. franklin, no. , is announced. the following advertisements will show who were the most enterprising of the early settlers: h. jackson, postmaster; d. lambert, real estate dealer; w. h. nobles, wagonmaker; j. j. dewey, m.d.; w. d. phillips, lawyer; j. monteur, d. c. taylor, blacksmiths; j. r. irvine, plasterer; b. l. sellers, stonemason; lot moffett, anson northrup, hotel keepers; james pomeroy, francis mccoy, house builders; mcboal & gilbert, stock dealers; henry jackson, w. h. forbes, daniel hopkins, freeman, larpenteur & co., j. w. simpson, olmsted & rhodes, fuller & brothers, r. p. russell, merchants. a road notice completes the list. among the prominent citizens who arrived in , david day became the first register of deeds in ramsey county. he served in the territorial house in and , and was speaker during the last session. he served as postmaster from to . d. f. brawley established the first brickyard in the territory, and made the brick for the first brick building north of prairie du chien, which was built by rev. e. d. neill. willoughby & powers introduced the first stage coaches, and established the first livery stable. nathaniel mclean came as a sioux indian agent and served four years. he died in , aged eighty-four years. henry f. masterman, a prominent lawyer, died in . j. d. crittenden, who served in the late war and rose to the position of colonel. orlando simmons, a useful citizen and sound jurist, still lives in st. paul. wm. hollinshead, a brother-in-law of edmund and h. m. rice, died some time in the ' s. j. w. bond was the author of the first history of minnesota. chauncey hobart was chaplain of the first legislature. john b. spencer, carpenter and contractor, built the first breakwater and dock at duluth. thomas foster became editor of the _minnesotian_, and subsequently issued a paper at duluth. he gave the name of "the zenith city of the unsalted sea" to duluth. he was too much of a critic to be popular. he died near washington, district of columbia, in . the first masonic, odd fellows and sons of temperance lodges were organized this year. the bank of st. croix, with headquarters at st. paul, was established this year. its paper was the first issued in the form of bank notes in the city and territory. nevertheless it was a fraud. its paper was quoted in new york at one per cent. the proprietors were young & sawyer. for a few terse comparisons and statistics with regard to the st. paul of the past and of the present we are indebted to a writer in the "soo line edition" of the _st. croix standard_: "twenty-six years ago there were no railroads in st. paul, now there are trunk lines entering the city, with over , miles of track and more than , miles of mileage, , cars in use and , men employed. beside this is the river trade, which employs two lines of boats and affords a very considerable commerce to st. paul. in the manufacturing interests st. paul has shown a great increase, and in every department of trade manufactories are springing up in all directions, and the business has already reached the large sum of $ , , , with not less than , factories and , men employed. forty-six hotels accommodate the traveling public. the fire department is one of the best in the west, consisting of steam fire engines, chemical engines, hose carts, men, horses, etc., and the value of all the property belonging to the fire department is $ , . the city is abundantly supplied with good, pure water, obtained from several lakes. one year ago there were , miles of mains and , new water connections, so it is safe to say that at present there are , miles of mains and , connections. the receipts of the department for the past year were $ , , . . the real estate sales in will reach as high as $ , , ." beyond this year we shall not follow the history of the city, except so far as a few tables of statistics and the biographies of a few of its leading citizens may be concerned. population of st. paul. , april , june , , , , , , , , schools in . number of school houses, ; valuation, $ , ; number of teachers, ; number of scholars, , . statistics of buildings costing $ , and over. capitol $ , custom house , court house , , hotel ryan , , merchants hotel , metropolitan hotel , globe building , pioneer press building , chamber of commerce , high school building , hamline university , macalester college , baptist church , german catholic church , central park methodist episcopal church , new york life insurance company building , , german life insurance company building , northern pacific office building , manitoba office building , omaha office building , union depot , german american bank , germania bank , first national bank , watson block , hale block , mcmurrin block , willius block , gilfillan block , drake block , drake block , union block , albion block , gotzian block , wilder block , mayhall block , decoster & clark block , sherman block , astoria block , steele block , shuter block , dawson block , j.j. hill's residence , kittson's residence , wilder's residence , stickney's residence , griggs' residence , merriam's residence , opera house , united states army headquarters , lindeke flour mill , elevator a , elevator b , bohn manufacturing company , mayors of st. paul. . david olmsted. . alex. ramsey. . george l. becker. . j. b. brisbin. . n. w. kittson. . d. a. robertson. . dr. j. h. stewart. . dr. j. h. stewart. . dr. j. h. stewart. . j. t. maxfield. . j. t. maxfield. . j. t. maxfield. . john s. prince. . john s. prince. . j. e. warren. . dr. j. h. stewart. . j. s. prince. . j. s. prince. . george l. otis. . dr. j. h. stewart. . j. t. maxfield. . william lee. . william lee. . william dawson. . william dawson. . william dawson. . edmund rice. . edmund rice. . edmund rice. . c. d. o'brien. . edmund rice. . edmund rice. . robert a. smith. . robert a. smith. miscellaneous statistics. number of churches value of school property $ , , value of stockyards, west st. paul , , value of products manufactured , , amount of lumber sales , , capital of thirteen banks , , aggregate post office business , , bonded indebtedness , , annual valuation of city property , , west st. paul. the flourishing suburb of west st. paul is rapidly approaching metropolitan dimensions. the original settlement took place almost simultaneously with that of st. paul, but its growth until late years has not been rapid. it was originally within the limits of dakota county, but that portion included in its plat has been annexed to ramsey county, and west st. paul has become a part of st. paul and has been placed under the municipal government of that city. the city is connected with st. paul by two free bridges for carriages and pedestrians and by several railroad bridges. towns of ramsey county. after the state organization in , ramsey county was subdivided into the following towns: little canada, mclean, mounds view, reserve, rose, st. paul, and white bear. from year to year the city of st. paul has made encroachments upon the towns adjacent--little canada, mclean, reserve, and rose--until they have been in part or wholly absorbed. of the remaining towns we shall refer only to white bear, which, owing to the beauty of its lake scenery and its attractiveness as a place of popular resort, deserves special mention. white bear. white bear, the northeastern township of ramsey county, contains thirty-six sections. its surface is agreeably diversified with lakes. about six sections in all are occupied by these lakes, of which there are several large and beautiful ones, among which may be mentioned white bear, bald eagle, pleasant, lambert's, vadnais, birch, goose, otter, etc. the surface is undulating, and in no place actually hilly, while there is much level and very desirable land. extensive meadows border some of the lakes, and are found in most of the intervales watered by running streams. these produce enormous crops of hay. portions of these marshy localities are thickly grown with tamaracks, which were invaluable to the early settler, furnishing him with a supply of logs and poles for his improvements. the timber consists principally of red, white and black oak, sugar maple, tamarack, poplar, elm, elder, and ash. the township derives its name from white bear lake. this lake was so named, it is asserted, by the dakota indians, a tradition existing amongst them that a grizzly bear once made its appearance on the island, with which one of their bravest hunters engaged in mortal conflict, each slaying the other. the indians called this a grizzly, polar or white bear, and named an adjacent locality "mah-to-me-di" or (m'de), _i. e._, mahto, gray polar bear, and m'de, lake. it is not probable, however, that a polar bear ever reached this spot, and a visit from a grizzly is nearly as improbable. indian legends are very frequently made to order by those who succeed them as owners of the soil. not much is known of white bear prior to . no human habitations, save those of indians, were to be seen. there were no roads to this region, and none nearer than little canada. the lake itself seems to have been little known to white men. j. fletcher williams, in a sketch contributed to the _pioneer_, and to which we are indebted for many of our statements, says that hugh i. vance, a typo employed in the _pioneer_ office at that time, was probably about the first settler of white bear; that in the spring of he wended his way to this region in search of a claim, selected a piece of land on bald eagle lake, erected a cabin, resided here with his family several years, and was probably the first man to drive a plowshare in this locality. mr. vance joined the union army in , and with his two sons was killed in missouri the year following. in the spring of v. b. barnum selected a tract on the south shore of white bear lake, and hired geo. o. nichols to run out the lines. mr. barnum entered one hundred and seventy-five acres. on this land he built a cabin near the present leip house, which burned down in . jas. b. clewett, one of the pioneers of st. paul as early as , drove his stakes at white bear in the spring of . he afterward built a house on the island, where he yet resides, a mile north of the lake. soon after wm. freeborn and b. f. hoyt entered a tract of land in sections and . isaac banta built a cabin on it, near the point by the island, resided there three or four years, and moved to forest lake. this land was afterward bought by the murray family. thomas milner came in about the same time. daniel getty came and located on the east side of the lake at a later day, becoming a resident of the village proper, of which he is now postmaster, superintendent of the sunday-school, elder in the church, school trustee, etc. mr. barnum opened a hotel, which he kept till , and then sold out to john m. lamb. in james f. murray, his three sons and o. r. stratton settled at white bear. w. w. webber, john aubery, joseph freeman, ross wilkinson, frank perfect, fred whittaker, george starbuck, duncan ross, charlie a. morgan, and others came here in . the early settlers were much disturbed by roving bands of chippewa and sioux indians. white bear being debatable ground, and sometimes a battlefield between hostile parties. the sioux claimed the right, under the treaty of , to hunt, fish and gather berries and rice in that region. in the fall of a party of sioux from kaposia went by the lake on a hunting expedition. near oneka lake, a few miles above, they fell in with some chippewas, one of whom they killed and scalped, but had two of their own number mortally wounded. returning, they camped on goose lake, just about where st. john's church was first built, and had a scalp dance, lasting two days and nights. it was from time immemorial a grand battle field for them. hardly a foot of the soil around the lake but what has been ensanguined with the blood of the hereditary foes. many are the tales told of their encounters. "spirit island" seems to have been the hardest fought spot, and to this day it is honeycombed with the remains of rifle pits, redoubts and earth works made by the contending parties, while innumerable bodies of the slain have enriched its soil. it is a perfect golgotha--an island cemetery. if but a fraction of these savage combats and sieges were truly narrated, no romance could equal it in thrilling interest. these fierce combats continued as late as . miss mary stiles, daughter of william stiles, was the first white child born at white bear. miss mary e. barnum was married to richard mclagan--being the first wedding which occurred at white bear. 'squire jacob j. noah, justice of the peace of st. paul, tied the knot. the first death was that of clara murray, aged four years, daughter of mr. and mrs. j. c. murray, in july, . j. g. riheldaffer preached at the funeral service at mr. murray's house the first sermon in the settlement. a lay methodist named hoffman held services on the sabbath several times at barnum's hotel. a baptist clergyman from diamond bluff, wisconsin, named messer, also occasionally held services in the early days, at the school house, a log house built in . the episcopal church of st. john in the wilderness was built in and consecrated in august of the same year. it was located at the lower end of the lake, but in was moved to its present site on clarke avenue. the presbyterian church was organized may , , with eight members, two of whom were elected ruling elders, james f. murray and daniel getty. the corner stone of the present church edifice was laid nov. , , and the foundation laid in the following spring. the church was completed in . a catholic church was built in , on a block between first and second streets and bald eagle avenue, in which services are held every two weeks. the post office of white bear was established in november, , and j. c. murray appointed postmaster. the township of white bear was organized may , , with the following officers: clerk, g. schnabel; supervisor, j. f. murray; assessor, v. b. barnum; justices of the peace, j. r. clewett and alex. pepin. the village is easy of access, and abundantly supplied with railroad facilities. the st. paul & duluth railroad company has built a double track to st. paul. this company built a road to stillwater known as the stillwater & white bear railroad. there is in addition to this road an extension to minneapolis known as the minneapolis & white bear railroad. the sault ste. marie passes through the north part of the village. white bear lake is one of the most famous pleasure resorts in the vicinity of st. paul. its clear waters, gently sloping wooded shores, and the entire absence of marsh or swamp lands adjoining, render the situation at once pleasant and salubrious. it has an extreme length of - / miles, and a width of - / . it has, according to survey meanders, a shore line of over miles, and its area is , acres, or square miles. beautiful parks surround the lake. prominent among these are wildwood park and mahtomedi, the latter renowned as a camp ground, and later as the site of a summer school, modeled after that at chautauqua, and one of a system of schools of which the chautauqua school is the principal and central institution. spirit island, connected with the mainland by a bridge, is also a charming resort. the lake shore is crowded with hotels and cottages for the use of summer visitors. among these the leip house is especially worthy of mention, the proprietor having beautified the grounds and built around the hotel a small village of cottages for excursionists. other houses are the ramaley, the williams, the chateaugay, the dellwood, etc., with pleasant surroundings. the appearance of this resort during the summer months is one of great animation. tourists and summer visitors crowd the hotel, or gather in groups along the lake shore, while the lake is dotted with their sailing vessels. a small steamer makes regular trips to points of interest about the lake. white bear lake village was incorporated by the legislature in , the following being chosen as the first officers under their charter: daniel getty, chairman of council; james c. murray, luke h. bacon, abel e. leaman, and fred w. benson, councilmen; b. e. mcgurk, recorder; h. k. getty, treasurer; wm. clark, village justice; reuben clewett, marshal. daniel getty was born in the north of ireland in . his ancestors were scotch-irish. he came with his parents to philadelphia in ; was educated in the common schools, and learned the trade of a cabinet maker. he came to white bear in , and opened the first store in the place. he has four sons associated with him in business. he has done much to promote the prosperity of white bear, and by enterprise and close attention to business, both as a merchant and a dealer in real estate, he has been successful. south st. paul is located in the northeastern corner of dakota county, four and a half miles below st. paul, the site of the presbyterian and methodist missions of old kaposia. it is situated on a plateau considerably above high water mark, in the rear of which the grounds rise gradually to a rich agricultural plain. it is connected with st. paul by an hourly motor line of cars. it has communication with st. paul by the chicago, st. paul & kansas city railway, and also has communication by water. the famous st. paul union stockyards are located here, and occupy two hundred acres of land. this great enterprise was founded by a. b. stickney and ansel oppenheim, president of the company. w. m. littell is general superintendent; arnold kalman, secretary and treasurer. the stockyards were located here in , and now ( ) possess a capital of $ , , in grounds and necessary buildings pertaining to such an enterprise. there are eight miles of railroad track upon the grounds. the stock is brought from montana, dakota, minnesota, wisconsin, and iowa by railroad. the city was organized in , with the following board of officers; joseph h. lawrence, mayor; george w. wentworth, philip crowley, j. w. mcgrath, and irwin marshall, aldermen. a post office was established in , of which h. m. littell is postmaster. the city embraces south park, and there are five churches, english and german methodist, a congregational and two baptist churches. an electric motor line is being established. the city of south st. paul has about , inhabitants. its progress is upward. north st. paul. this rapidly growing suburb of st. paul is situated on the shores of silver lake, a lovely sheet of water lying six miles northeast of the court house. the grounds about the lake were converted into farms soon after the settlement of st. paul. in the wisconsin central railroad company extended their st. paul branch through the neighborhood. capt. h. a. castle established suburban residences near the lake. in march, , the north st. paul land company was formed for the purpose of encouraging manufactures and furnishing homes and facilities for business. their plant was located on the farm of capt. castle. the company consists of h. a. castle, lane k. stone, frederick driscoll, w. s. morton, and george a. sexias. the capital stock of the company was fixed at $ , , . under their enterprising management twenty miles of street has been graded, a boulevard extended around the lake, five miles of sidewalk completed and numerous cottages erected. a railroad depot has been built at a cost of $ , ; two hotels and fifteen manufacturing establishments have been erected. there are (in may, ) , inhabitants, with eight church organizations and six buildings, and a school house, built at a cost of $ , . the growth of this village since its commencement in has been remarkable. new, populous and important suburbs of st. paul are merriam park, st. anthony park, and st. paul park in washington county. the following table gives the population of st. paul from to may, . year. population. , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , (estimated) , post office. the following figures will show the amount of business transacted at the post office, st. paul, minnesota, for the year ending dec. , , as compared with the year : general business. . . from sale of stamps, envelopes, etc $ , $ , from sale of newspapers and periodical stamps , , from sale of unpaid letter stamps , , from box rent , , from sale of waste paper, twine and packing boxes from other offices (deposited) , , sent assistant treasurer united states, new york , , paid route agents, messengers, etc , , paid letter carriers , , paid letter carriers' expenses and horse hire , , ----------- ----------- total postal funds $ , $ , money order business. no. amount. no. amount. domestic orders and postal notes issued , $ , , $ , fees on same , , foreign orders issued , , , , fees on same domestic orders and postal notes paid , , , , foreign orders paid , , , , surplus money order funds received from other offices , , , , surplus money order funds remitted chicago and new york , , , , ------------ ------------ total money order funds $ , , $ , , total postal funds , , ------------- ------------ grand total financial transactions $ , , $ , , post office history. the names and date of the commission of the postmasters of st. paul are as follows: henry jackson, april , ; jacob w. bass, july , ; wm. h. forbes, march , ; chas. s. cave, march , ; wm. m. corcoran, march , ; chas. nichols, april , ; jacob h. stewart, march , ; jos. a. wheelock, march , ; david day, july , . net yearly income, being balance on quarterly returns from its establishment to the present time: $ , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , gross yearly income of the st. paul post office from to : $ , , , , , , , , , , , , , [illustration: brig. gen. henry h. sibley.] chapter xxi. biographical. henry hastings sibley.--the father of gen. sibley, judge solomon sibley, of massachusetts, was a well known pioneer of the northwest. he settled in ohio in , but two years later removed to michigan, which he represented as delegate to congress in . in he served as member of the first legislature of the northwest territory. he was judge of the supreme court from to , and died in , universally lamented. the mother of gen. sibley was the daughter of col. ebenezer sproat, and a granddaughter of commodore whipple of the american navy. she was a cultured lady, of unusual personal beauty and of rare accomplishments. she was married to judge sibley in , and died at detroit jan. , . henry h. sibley was born in detroit, michigan, feb. , . he received an academic education, and two years' tuition in the classics. in he came to the sault ste. marie and secured employment as a clerk. in he entered the service of the american fur company at mackinaw. in he came to the mouth of st. peter's river, to the post afterward known as mendota, as the agent of the american fur company. he made the journey from prairie du chien, a distance of nearly three hundred miles, on horseback. at that time there was but a single civilized habitation on the way. in he built a stone house at mendota, the first in minnesota, in which he resided twenty-four years. this house is still standing. he continued to act as agent for the american fur company until called to act as delegate to congress for wisconsin territory west of the st. croix, in . mr. sibley, when elected, was a citizen of mendota, clayton county, iowa, but the question of citizenship was not raised. he was recognized as the ablest and best representative that could be chosen for the difficult task of securing the organization of minnesota territory. in this he was successful. in the fall of he was re-elected as a delegate from the new territory he had been instrumental in forming, and served in that capacity until march , , rendering the territory important services. in he was elected a member of the minnesota territorial legislature from dakota county, and in was a member and president of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention. on the admission of minnesota as a state he was elected governor, taking his seat may , . his term expired jan. , . aug. , , his successor, gov. ramsey, appointed him commander of the forces sent to quell the sioux outbreak. he marched with his command in pursuit of the indians, defeating them in several skirmishes and battles, releasing captives held by them and capturing about , prisoners, over of whom were tried by court martial and sentenced to be hanged. of this number thirty-eight were executed at mankato, dec. , , president lincoln having pardoned the remainder. col. sibley was commissioned brigadier general for his gallant services, and retained in command of the frontier. in he led another expedition into the indian country, driving the hostiles across the missouri river, and returning to fort snelling in september. the years and were employed in securing the defense of the frontier. nov. , , gen. sibley was commissioned major general for efficient and meritorious services. he continued in the service until august, , when he was relieved of his command and detailed as a member of the commission to negotiate treaties with the hostile sioux and other bands on the upper missouri river. in gen. sibley was elected to represent the fifth ward, st. paul, in the legislature. he became a resident of st. paul in , but, in company with louis robert and a. l. larpenteur, had entered land for the town site there as early as . gen. sibley has been for several years president of the gas company, director of the first national bank, director of the sioux city railway, etc. he has at different times filled other responsible positions; has been park commissioner, president of the historical society, president of the chamber of commerce, and was once the candidate of his party for congress, but unsuccessful. he has contributed many valuable papers to the state historical society and has written much on topics relating to the welfare of the state, of which, with the exception of his personal friend, w. t. boutwell, he is now the oldest resident. [illustration: alex. ramsey] gen. sibley, for his integrity, persistent devotion to the welfare of the state, for his indomitable persistence in upbuilding its interests, has won a lasting place in the confidence and respect of the people. his history is inseparably interwoven with the history of the state, and he is justly regarded as one of its first and best citizens. the town and county of sibley bear his name. he was married may , , to sarah j., sister of frank steele. mrs. sibley died may , , much respected for her many virtues and rare accomplishments. alexander ramsey, the first territorial governor of minnesota, was born in harrisburg, pennsylvania, sept. , . his paternal ancestors were scotch-irish. his mother was of german descent. his parents were thomas and elisabeth (kelker) ramsey. his father was an officer in the war of , and died when the son was but ten years old. frederic kelker, an uncle, assisted in the education of the son, who in turn assisted as salesman in the store of his uncle. at the age of eighteen he entered lafayette college; at easton, pennsylvania; attended college but a short time, when he commenced the study of law with hon. hamilton alricks, of harrisburg, graduating afterward in the law school at carlisle, and commenced the practice of law in . he commenced his political life in , the year of the harrison campaign, and was made secretary of the electoral college. in he was appointed clerk of the pennsylvania house of representatives. he was in the lower house of congress from to , and was renominated for a third term, but declined. in he was made chairman of the whig state central committee, and the following year was appointed governor of the newly formed territory of minnesota by president taylor. he entered upon his duties as governor in may, . the territorial government was organized in june, and the governor issued his proclamation establishing three judicial districts, and providing for the election of members of the first legislature. he served as governor four years. in he was elected mayor of st. paul. in he was candidate for governor of the state, but was not elected. he was elected to that office in , and re-elected in . in , before the expiration of his second term, he was elected to the united states senate, and re-elected in . march , , he accepted the position of secretary of war in the cabinet of president hayes, and for a time was acting secretary of the navy. in he was appointed chairman of the utah commission under the edmunds bill. in the various departments of public service to which he has been called, gov. ramsey has acquitted himself well, displaying rare qualities of statesmanship. he is remarkable for his caution, which leads him sometimes almost into conservatism, but results have generally proved the sagacity of his apparently tardy movements. he is a master in the exercise of a wise caution in the conduct of public affairs. he has, in fact, great political sagacity. he has made several favorable treaties with the indians, being empowered during his term as governor to act also as superintendent of indian affairs. during his two terms as state governor, he rendered the country great service by his prompt response to the calls for volunteers and his decisive and unwavering support of the general government. he also acted with great promptness and resolution in the suppression of the indian outbreak. as a senator he supported all measures for the prosecution of the war for the preservation of the union; advocated the abolition of the franking privilege and assisted in procuring aid for the building of the northern pacific railroad, favoring the project of three trunk lines between the mississippi and the pacific states and the general plan of aiding these roads by the donation of alternate sections of public land, and was also active in promoting the improvement of the upper mississippi and navigable tributaries. in person gov. ramsey is a hale, hearty, and well preserved gentleman, who is passing gracefully into what with many is the season of the sere and yellow leaf. he is genial and pleasant in his manners, and would impress the ordinary observer as one whose "lines have fallen in pleasant places," and who is the happy possessor of a good digestion, a serene temper and a clear conscience. on sept. , , he was married to anna earl jenks, daughter of hon. michael h. jenks, for many years judge of bucks county, pennsylvania, a lady of rare accomplishments, and in every way fitted to shine in the society into which she was introduced as the wife of a governor, senator and cabinet officer. in private life she was not less noted for her kindness of heart, amiability and christian virtues. this estimable lady died in , leaving a daughter, marion, the wife of charles elliott furness, of philadelphia. maj. wm. h. forbes was born on montreal island, canada, nov. , . his father was a scotchman by birth, and was a member of the hudson bay company as early as . maj. forbes was educated at montreal, where he also served an apprenticeship at the hardware business, and afterward became junior partner in the same establishment. at that time montreal was the chief depot of supplies for the indian trade of the northwest, and the reports which continually came to him of that romantic region, together with the sight of the indians and voyageurs returning with their furs, so excited his love of adventure that he resigned his position as partner in the hardware business and accepted a clerkship with the american fur company. john jacob astor was then president. the conditions were that the clerk should speak and write the french language, which mr. forbes could do with facility. having engaged as clerk, his outfit was conveyed in bark canoes from montreal, in charge of fifty men enlisted for a three years' cruise. their route lay by way of the lakes to la pointe, on lake superior, and up the brule river, from which the canoes and baggage were carried across to the waters of the st. croix, and descended thence to the mississippi. from the sault ste. marie to la pointe they were transported on one of the company's schooners. they arrived at mendota in . gen. sibley was then in charge at mendota. mr. forbes clerked for him ten years, and in took charge of an establishment belonging to the company (called the st. paul outfit), and became a resident of st. paul until his death, twenty-eight years later. mr. forbes was a member from st. paul of the first territorial council, and served four terms. in march, , he was appointed postmaster at st. paul by president pierce, and held the office three years. in he also formed a business partnership with norman w. kittson for the general supplying of the indian trade. in mr. kittson retired from the firm, but the business was continued by maj. forbes until , when the indian outbreak put an end to the trade. during the campaign he served as a member of gen. sibley's staff, and acted as provost marshal at the trial of the three hundred indians condemned to death. at the close of this campaign he was commissioned by president lincoln commissary of subsistence in the volunteer service with the rank of captain. he was elected auditor of ramsey county in , and served two years, though sometimes absent on military duty. in he was ordered to the district of northern missouri as chief commissary, remained two years and was breveted major. in he was appointed indian agent at devil's lake reservation, which position he held at the time of his death, july , . maj. forbes was twice married; first in , to miss agnes, daughter of alexander faribault, by whom he had one daughter, the wife of capt. j. h. patterson, united states army; again in , to miss a. b. cory, of cooperstown, new york, by whom he had four children, three of whom are living. henry m. rice.--the family of mr. rice came originally from hertfordshire, england, to sudbury, massachusetts, in . members of the family figured conspicuously in the struggle for american independence. his parents were edmund and ellen durkee rice. his grandfather durkee was in the french war of . mr. rice was born in waitsfield, vermont, nov. , ; attended common school three months in the year and a private school and academy in burlington. he went to detroit, michigan territory, in ; was engaged in making the first survey of the sault ste. marie canal, made by the state of michigan in , and went to fort snelling in . he was post sutler in , united states army, fort atkinson, iowa territory, and was connected with the old fur company for several years. he was elected delegate to congress in for minnesota territory and re-elected in . he was elected first united states senator for minnesota, in , admitted to his seat may , , and served until march , . in he was a member of the senate special committee of thirteen on the condition of the country. during his term in the senate he was a member of the following standing committees: indian affairs, post office and post roads, public lands, military, finance. he was on the last four named committees at the expiration of the term of march , . [illustration: henry m. rice] in he was nominated for governor but was defeated by gen. w. r. marshall. in he was delegate to the philadelphia union convention. he also served in the following various capacities: united states commissioner in making several indian treaties; as a member of the board of regents of the university of minnesota; as president of the minnesota state historical society; as president of the st. paul board of public works; and as treasurer of ramsey county, minnesota. he is the author of the law extending the right of pre-emption over unsurveyed lands in minnesota. he has obtained land grants for numerous railroads in minnesota, and, with the assistance of senator douglas, framed the act authorizing minnesota to form a state constitution preparatory to admission, fixing boundary, etc. as a public man mr. rice has pursued a policy at once independent and outspoken, not hesitating to express his convictions on the great national questions of the day, and to place himself upon a national rather than a party platform. during the war he upheld the administration in a vigorous prosecution of the war, as the speediest and most honorable means of obtaining peace. his letter to the st. paul _press_ of nov. , , contains sentiments that must commend themselves to every true lover of his country. we quote a few extracts: "i believe gen. mcclellan and mr. lincoln both desire peace--both the restoration of the union. the one favors the return of the southern states with slavery; the other wishes these states to return without that institution. i believe that the revolted citizens forfeited all rights they had under the constitution when they turned traitors; that the emancipation proclamation legally and rightfully set every slave free. i am as much opposed to again legalizing that institution in the south as i would be to its introduction in the northern states." * * * "i am in favor of the return of the southern states, and think the day is not far distant when the same flag will float over us all, and when that happy day shall arrive, i hope that the rights we enjoy will be freely accorded to them, and no more." * * * "when the southern states return i shall be in favor of their voting population being equally represented with our own, and no further." * * * "i think that in the long future, when all other of mr. lincoln's acts shall be forgotten, his emancipation proclamation will adorn history's brightest page. i am opposed to slavery for the reason that _i am in favor of the largest human liberty_, and i can not understand why some of our fellow citizens who come here that they might be free can deny freedom to others." * * * "i think it illy becomes those who took up arms to defend their homes, their country, yea, liberty! to make overtures to armed rebellion. i believe that by a rigorous prosecution of the war peace will soon come, our liberties will be secured forever, and that prosperity will follow. union with slavery will be only a temporary cheat, and can not last. dissolution will bring ruin, anarchy and an endless effusion of blood and money." he has been a liberal contributor to the various public enterprises of the city, to churches, public institutions and private parties. he has built warehouses, business blocks and hotels. the park in front of the city hall was donated by him. his name is inseparably interwoven with the history of st. paul and the state. rice county bears his name. he was married to matilda whitall, of richmond, virginia, in . edmund rice, brother of hon. henry m. rice, was born in waitsfield, vermont, feb. , . his father died in . he received a somewhat limited common school education and spent most of his early life clerking. in he came to kalamazoo, michigan, where he read law with stuart & miller, and was admitted to the bar in , making commendable progress in his profession. while a resident of michigan he was master in chancery, register of court of chancery and clerk of the supreme court. in he enlisted in company a, first michigan volunteers, of which company he was made first lieutenant, and served through the mexican war until its close. in july, , he came to minnesota territory, locating in st. paul, where he became one of the firm of rice, hollinshead & becker until , when he embarked in railroad enterprises. in he was elected president of the minnesota & pacific railroad company, and afterward of its successors, the st. paul & pacific and the st. paul & chicago railroad companies. he has been long regarded as one of the most energetic and competent railroad men in the state. mr. rice has figured largely in the politics of the state, having served several terms in the territorial and state legislatures. he was a representative in the territorial legislature of , a senator in the state legislatures of , , , , and a representative in the sessions of , and . [illustration: edmund rice] in he was elected mayor of st. paul, and in was chosen representative in congress. mr. rice is an uncompromising democrat in his politics, and is so recognized by his party, which he served as chairman of the state central committee in the presidential campaign of , and elector at large in the campaign of . he was married in november, , to anna m. acker, daughter of hon. henry acker, of kalamazoo, michigan. of eleven children, the fruit of this union, all are living but the second daughter, jessie, who married frank h. clark, of philadelphia, in , and died in october, . the eldest daughter, ellen, is the wife of henry a. boardman, of st. paul. louis robert.--capt. louis robert was a descendant of the french settlers who occupied kaskaskia and st. louis when they were in the territory of louisiana, then a french province. he was born at carondelet, missouri, jan. , , and his early life was spent in that region and on the upper missouri river. in he went to prairie du chien, and in the fall of visited st. paul and removed thither the ensuing year, identifying himself with the interests of that growing young city. to say the least, he was a remarkable character. he possessed all the politeness and suavity of his nationality, was impulsive, warm hearted, generous and yet, as a business man, far-seeing and loquacious. his broken english added a peculiar charm and quaintness to his conversation, and he will be long remembered for his odd expressions and his keen but homely wit. he was generous in aiding any worthy object, and, as a devoted catholic, gave liberally to the support of his church. he donated valuable property to church building and gave the bells to the french catholic church and the cathedral in st. paul. his private charities were also liberal. in capt. robert was one of the original proprietors of st. paul. he took a prominent part in the stillwater convention of . in he was appointed commissioner on territorial buildings. in he engaged in steamboating, and at different times owned as many as five steamers. he was also largely engaged in the indian trade until the massacre of . he died, after a painful illness, may , , leaving an estate valued at $ , . he was married in , at prairie du chien, to mary turpin, who, with two daughters, survives him. auguste louis larpenteur, the son of louis auguste, and malinda (simmons) larpenteur, was born in baltimore, maryland, may , . his grandfather, louis benoist larpenteur, left france about the time of the banishment of napoleon bonaparte to st. helena, determined not to live under the rule of the bourbons. auguste l., the grandson, was reared in the family of his grandfather, his mother having died while he was an infant. at the age of eighteen years, with his uncle, eugene n. larpenteur, he came to st. louis. two years later he came to st. paul as clerk for wm. hartshorn and henry jackson, indian traders. the firm of hartshorn & jackson gave place to freeman, larpenteur & co. mr. larpenteur has been continuously engaged in commercial pursuits since his arrival in st. paul in . he has seen the city grow from a hamlet of five cabins to its present metropolitan dimensions, and has been from the first one of its most enterprising and reliable citizens. he was married dec. , , to mary josephine presley. they have five sons and five daughters. william h. nobles.--william h., son of rev. lemuel nobles, was born in the state of new york in . in his early life he learned the trade of a machinist and became a skilled artisan. in he came to marine mills, but soon removed to st. croix falls and assisted in putting up the first mill there. he lived successively at osceola, at the mouth of willow river, and at stillwater. he was part owner of the osceola mills in , and it is claimed that he built the first frame house in hudson. in he removed from stillwater to st. paul, and opened the first blacksmithing and wagon shop in that city. he made the first wagon in the territory. he was a member of the house, fifth territorial legislature, in , from ramsey county. in he made an overland trip to california, and discovered one of the best passes in the mountains. he returned and surveyed a government wagon road through that pass. as a recognition of his services the pass received the name of "noble's pass," and a county in minnesota was also named after him. in he laid out a government road from st. paul to the missouri river. in he entered the army and was appointed lieutenant colonel of the seventy-ninth new york volunteers, better known as the "highlanders." while on duty in south carolina, a personal collision with another officer led to his resignation. he was afterward cotton collector for the government, united states revenue officer, and master of transportation at mobile. his health failing during his arduous service, he returned to st. paul, and died at st. luke's hospital, on eighth street, aged sixty years. col. nobles was a man of immense vitality and energy, with a strong inventive genius, by which he himself failed to profit; restless, fond of travel, a little hasty and irritable, but possessing many admirable traits. mr. noble was married in illinois, prior to his location in minnesota, to miss parker, who survives him. mrs. nobles resides with her family in california. simeon p. folsom, a younger brother of the author of this book, was born in lower canada, near quebec, dec. , . his father was a native of new hampshire, and while he was yet young returned to that state, removing subsequently to maine. mr. folsom came west in , settled in prairie du chien, and not long after engaged as clerk to henry m. rice at fort atkinson. in he returned to prairie du chien and for two years acted as deputy sheriff, one year as surveyor of public lands, and two years as surveyor of county lands. in he volunteered as a soldier in the mexican war, but the company was sent instead to garrison fort crawford, where he remained one year. on july , , he landed in st. paul, and has been engaged most of the time since in the surveying and real estate business. he was city surveyor of st. paul in , member of the school board in - and , and served three years as a soldier in the seventh minnesota during the civil war. he has one son, simeon pearl, jr., and one daughter, wife of j. b. pugsley. jacob w. bass was born in vermont in ; came west in and made his home at prairie du chien, where he kept a hotel and ferry and engaged in general business. while a resident of prairie du chien he was married to martha d., daughter of rev. alfred brunson. in he purchased an interest in the chippewa falls mills, but in sold out, and removed to st. paul, where he engaged in hotel keeping in a building made of tamarack poles, on the site of the present merchants hotel, and known as the st. paul house. in july, , he was commissioned postmaster, as the successor of henry jackson, the first postmaster in st. paul. he held the office four years. he left the hotel in . he has since resided in st. paul, where he has been engaged at different times in the real estate and commission business and at farming. he has two sons. the oldest, a graduate of west point, holds a commission in the united states army; the youngest is in business at st. paul. benjamin w. brunson, son of rev. alfred brunson, of prairie du chien, was born in detroit, michigan, may , . he came with his parents to prairie du chien in . he purchased an interest in the chippewa falls mills in , and in came to st. paul and assisted in surveying the first town plat. he laid out what was known as "brunson's addition." he was a representative in the first and second territorial legislatures. he served three years during the civil war as a member of company k, eighth minnesota infantry, first as a private, then as an orderly sergeant, and later as second lieutenant. he has followed surveying many years, and has held several responsible positions. he was married at st. paul and has two sons and one daughter. charles d. and abram s. elfelt.--the parents of the elfelt brothers came from san domingo to the united states in , on the establishment of a negro republic on that island, and settled in pennsylvania, where abram s. was born in and charles d. in . in the brothers removed to st. paul and established the first exclusively dry goods store in minnesota, their building standing near the upper levee at the foot of eagle street. they also built the hall in which the first theatrical performances in st. paul were held. this was the building now standing on third and exchange streets, which was erected in . at that time it was the largest building in the city, and many of the old residents remember the ceremonies attendant upon the raising of the frame. the dramatic hall was in one of the upper stories, being known as mazourka hall. the materials used in its construction were brought from long distances, coming up the river by boat, and the laborers employed on the building were paid five dollars a day for their services. into this building the elfelt brothers transferred their store, stocking it at first with both dry goods and groceries, but afterward limiting their trade to dry goods exclusively. mr. abram elfelt originated the first board of trade, in , and when that body was merged into the chamber of commerce became one of its directors. the brothers were public spirited and enterprising, and always took a great interest in the welfare of the city. abram s. elfelt died in st. paul in february, . d. a. j. baker was born in farmington, maine, in ; attended school at new hampton, new hampshire; studied law and was admitted to the bar in kennebec county, maine, in ; came to st. paul in , and in made his home in the locality now known as merriam park. it is on record that judge baker taught one of the first public schools in the territory of minnesota. he, with others, pre-empted the land and located what is now superior city, wisconsin, but sold his interests in that city. he was appointed to a judgeship in douglas county, wisconsin, in , and served three years; was county superintendent of schools in ramsey county for twelve years, and was a member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention in . he has been a dealer in real estate. he was married to miss cornelia c. kneeland, a sister of mrs. dr. t. t. mann, and late widow of james m. goodhue, in . mrs. baker died in . maj. newson, in his "pen portraits," says of her: "she was an affectionate wife and a devoted mother, and amid all the trials and vicissitudes incident to the ups and downs of an old settler's career, she never murmured, never complained, never fretted, never chided; always cheerful, always hopeful, casting sunshine into the home and weaving about all those she loved golden chains of unbroken affection." b. f. hoyt.--rev. b. f. hoyt, a local minister of the methodist church, and a prominent pioneer of , was born at norwalk, connecticut, jan. , . he removed to new york state, and later to ohio, where he married and resided until , when he removed to illinois, and in to st. paul. he purchased the property bounded now by jackson, broadway, eighth and the bluff for three hundred dollars. the following spring he laid it out as "hoyt's addition." he dealt largely in real estate and at various times held property, now worth millions. he was instrumental in the erection of the jackson street methodist church, and aided in, the endowment of hamline university. he died sept. , . john fletcher williams, secretary of the minnesota state historical society, is of welsh descent, john williams, a paternal ancestor of the seventh remove, having come to this country from glamorganshire, wales. he was born in cincinnati, ohio, sept. , . he was educated at woodward college and ohio wesleyan university, graduating from the latter institution in . he came to st. paul in and engaged in journalism and reporting for about twelve years, during which time he acquired a thorough knowledge of city and state affairs and an acquaintance with the pioneers of the state, which knowledge he utilized in writing biographical and historical, sketches, his principal work in this line being the "history of st. paul," published in . in he was elected secretary of the state historical society. upon him devolved the duty of arranging its volumes and collections and editing its publications. most of the memoirs, and historical sketches are from his pen. he has gathered manuscripts and material for a history of the state which will ultimately be of great value. he is the honorary corresponding secretary of the old settlers association, not being eligible to active membership in that body, which requires a residence dating back to . various diplomas have been conferred upon him by the historical societies of other cities and states. in he was appointed by president grant a member of the united states centennial commission from minnesota, and served as such to the close of the international centennial exposition in philadelphia in . john henry murphy was the first medical practitioner in st. anthony falls, he having made that city his home in . mr. murphy was born jan. , , at new brunswick, new jersey. his father, james murphy, a shipbuilder, was a native of ireland; his mother, sarah (allen), belonged to an old new jersey family. his parents removed to quincy, illinois, in , where john henry obtained a good high school education. he studied medicine and graduated from the rush medical college in chicago in , and returned to st. anthony falls, which he had made his home the year before. in this place he lived and practiced his profession till near the close of the war, when he removed to st. paul. in the summer of , when dr. stewart, surgeon of the first minnesota infantry, was captured at bull run, dr. murphy took his place and served for six months, and afterward as surgeon of the fourth and eighth minnesota infantry. dr. murphy was a representative in the territorial legislature of , and a member of the constitutional convention, republican wing, in . as a man and a physician dr. murphy has an enviable reputation. he was married to mary a. hoyt, of fulton county, illinois, june , . they have five children. w. h. tinker was born at hartford, connecticut, in ; was married to elisabeth barnum, at rockford, illinois, in ; came to prairie du chien in , and to st. paul in . he engaged for awhile in tailoring, then in selling groceries, then clerked for s. p. folsom & co., and also in the recorder's and marshal's offices. at one time he owned eight acres in the heart of st. paul, for which he paid two hundred and eighty-four dollars, which is now worth a quarter of a million. george p. jacobs was born in virginia in ; was educated at the virginia military institute; came to pierce county, wisconsin, and engaged in lumbering, afterward in farming and lumbering. he has resided in st. paul since . lyman dayton was born aug. , , in southington, connecticut, and was early thrown upon his own resources. he commenced as a clerk in a store in providence, rhode island, and by faithfulness and industry became in time a wholesale dry goods merchant. his health failing, he sought the west in , and selected for his home a high bluff, to which his name has been affixed, near the city of st. paul. he purchased over , acres of land in the vicinity. the bluff is now covered with palatial residences, business, church and school buildings. mr. dayton lived much of his time at a village founded by himself at the junction of crow river with the mississippi. the village bears his name. he was one of the proprietors and first president of the lake superior & mississippi railway company, and gave much of his time and means to promote its interests. he died in , leaving a widow (formerly miss maria bates) and one son, lyman c., a heavy dealer in real estate. henry l. moss.--mr. moss is of english descent. his ancestors came over prior to the revolution, in which later members of the family took a prominent part in behalf of the colonies. he was born in augusta, new york, and graduated at hamilton college, new york, in ; studied law, and was admitted to practice in at sandusky, ohio, where he practiced until , when he removed to platteville, wisconsin, where he became an associate with benj. c. eastman until , when he removed to stillwater. he was the second lawyer in this place. in he moved to st. paul. he served as the first united states district attorney for minnesota territory, holding the office from until . he was reappointed to this office under the state government in , and served four years. mr. moss is a worthy member of the presbyterian church. his moral character and natural abilities have commended him for the positions he has so satisfactorily filled. mr. moss was married to amanda hosford, sept. , . william rainey marshall is of scotch-irish descent, and of good fighting stock, both his grandfathers participating in the revolutionary struggle. his father, joseph marshall, was a native of bourbon county, kentucky, and his mother, abigail (shaw) marshall, was born in pennsylvania. william r. was born in boone county, missouri, oct. , . he was educated in the schools of quincy, illinois, and spent some of his early years mining and surveying amidst the lead regions of wisconsin. in september, , he came to st. croix falls, and made a land and timber claim near the falls on the wisconsin side (now included in the phillip jewell farm). while at st. croix falls he sold goods; dealt in lumber, was deputy receiver of the united states land office, and took an active part in the boundary meetings. he was elected representative in the wisconsin assembly for the st. croix valley in , but his seat was successfully contested by joseph bowron on the ground of non-residence, he residing west of the line marking the western limit of the new state of wisconsin. during the latter part of the year he had made a visit to st. anthony falls and staked out a claim and cut logs for a cabin, but partially abandoning the claim, he returned to st. croix falls. in he returned to st. anthony falls and perfected his claim. in the same year he was elected representative to the first minnesota territorial legislature. in he removed to st. paul and engaged in mercantile pursuits, becoming the pioneer iron merchant in that place. during this year he was also engaged in surveying public lands. in , with other parties, he established a banking house, which did well till overwhelmed by the financial tornado of . he then engaged in dairy farming and stock raising. in he purchased the st. paul _daily times_ and the _minnesotian_ and merged them in the _daily press_. in he enlisted in the seventh minnesota volunteer infantry, and was made lieutenant colonel of the regiment. on the promotion of col. stephen miller in , he succeeded to the command of the regiment, and remained connected with it to the close of the war, participating in the battles of tupelo and nashville, and in the siege of spanish fort. gen. marshall won for himself an enviable record as a soldier, and was breveted brigadier general for meritorious services. in he was elected governor of minnesota, and re-elected in . on vacating the gubernatorial chair he resumed banking, and was made vice president of the marine national bank, and president of the minnesota savings bank. [illustration: wm. r. marshall] in he was appointed a member of the board of railway commissioners. in november, , he was elected state railroad commissioner, and re-elected in . in politics he is republican, in his religious views he is a swedenborgian, being one of the founders of that society in st. paul. he is a liberal supporter of religious and benevolent enterprises, and a man universally esteemed for sterling qualities of mind and heart. he was married to miss abbey langford, of utica, new york, march , . they have one son, george langford. david cooper was born in brooks reserve, frederic county, maryland, july , . he enjoyed good educational advantages, first in the common schools and later had as a tutor rev. brooks, a methodist clergyman, an accomplished gentleman and scholar, who gave him thorough instruction in the sciences and classics. in he entered penn college, where he became a ready writer and pleasant speaker. after leaving college he studied law with his brother, senator cooper, and in was admitted to practice. he practiced in several counties, showed rare ability, espoused with enthusiasm the politics of the whig party, and on the accession of gen. taylor to the presidency, in , was appointed by him first assistant judge of the supreme court for the territory of minnesota. he arrived in minnesota in june, , and located in stillwater; was assigned by gov. ramsey to the second judicial district, and held his first court at mendota. he changed his residence to st. paul in , and, leaving the bench, devoted himself to law practice in st. paul. he was a republican candidate for congress in , at the first session of the state legislature. he left minnesota for nevada in , then went to salt lake city, where he died in a hospital in . he was twice married but left no children. bushrod w. lott was born in pemberton, new jersey, in . he was educated at the st. louis university, and studied law in quincy, illinois, being admitted to practice in . a year later he accompanied gen. samuel leech to st. croix falls, and was clerk during the first land sales in that region, while gen. leech was receiver. the same year he came to st. paul, settling down to the legal profession. he was a democrat in politics, and held the office of chief clerk of the house in the legislature of , being elected in and re-elected in as a representative. in he was beaten for the speakership by dr. david day, after balloting for twenty-two days. about ten years after this he became president of the town council for two years, and was city clerk for a year and a half. president lincoln appointed him consul to tehuantepec, mexico, in , where he served until . mr. lott was a charter member of the st. paul lodge, i. o. o. f. he died of apoplexy in . w. f. davidson, better known as "commodore" davidson, was born in lawrence county, ohio, feb. , . he was early associated with his father in canal boating and river life and acquired a strong predilection for the pursuit in which he afterward became distinguished. his father was a baptist preacher, and the influence of his teachings was apparent in many acts of the son's later life. his advantages for education were limited, as his chief training was on board the boats on which he was employed. in he came to st. paul. before coming west he was interested in boating on the ohio river, and was the owner of several steamers. his first work in minnesota was on the minnesota river, but soon afterward he became president of a company known as the la crosse & minnesota packet company. his experience and superior ability placed him at the head of river navigation, and for many years he had scarce a rival, earning by this supremacy the familiar cognomen of "commodore," first applied to him, we believe, by john fletcher williams. during ten years of his river life he resided in st. louis. with the increase of railroads and the brisk competition of later days, he gradually withdrew from the river trade and interested himself in real estate in st. paul, buying largely and building many fine blocks. though never an aspirant for office, commodore davidson was public spirited and interested greatly in public enterprises involving the prosperity of st. paul. he was married in ohio in , to a daughter of judge benjamin johnson. he died in st. paul, may , , leaving a widow, one son and one daughter. capt. thomas l. davidson is a brother, and jerry and robert r. are half brothers. col. j. ham davidson, a cousin and a man of considerable oratorical ability, was associated with him in business. [illustration: wm. h. fisher.] william h. fisher was born in new jersey in . he entered the railway service of the dubuque & sioux city railroad as check clerk at dubuque, iowa, in , serving as such and in other positions of responsibility until , when he removed to st. paul, minnesota, entering the service of the st. paul & pacific railroad as superintendent. he built the breckenridge extension in , and was influential in relieving the st. paul & pacific railroad and branches from financial embarrassment, which resulted in the organization of the present st. paul, minneapolis & manitoba system. in june, , he was elected general superintendent, and in june, , president and general superintendent, of the st. paul & duluth railroad company, which position he at present worthily fills. charles h. oakes, the son of a vermont merchant and manufacturer, david oakes, at one time sheriff of windham county, and judge of st. clair county, michigan, was born in the town of rockingham, windham county, july , . he received a common school education, and at twelve years of age went into a store and clerked until eighteen, when he came to chicago as clerk for an army sutler. in he commenced trading with the indians on the south shore of lake superior. in he entered the service of the american fur company, in whose employ he remained until , his headquarters being most of the time at la pointe. in he located in st. paul. in he entered the banking firm of borup & oakes, the first banking firm in st. paul, since which time he has lived a quiet and retired life, that contrasts strongly with the strange and adventurous life he led as an indian trader. mr. oakes' only public life was during the indian outbreak, when he accepted a position as colonel on the staff of gen. sibley. he was a member of the protestant episcopal church. by his first wife mr. oakes had four children, two of them daughters, now living. sophia is the widow of the late jeremiah russell, and eliza is the wife of col. george w. sweet, of minneapolis. a son, lieut. david oakes, was in the civil war, and was killed in battle. the other child died in infancy. mr. oakes was married to his second wife, julia beaulieu, of sault ste. marie, july , . she has had five children, but one of them now living, julia jane, widow of the late gen. isaac van etten. one of her sons, george henry, was in the civil war, and died two years after of disease contracted in the service. charles william wulff borup was born in copenhagen, denmark, dec. , . he received a thorough classical and medical education. in he emigrated to america, and, having abandoned his original intention of becoming a physician, entered into business, at first in the employ of john jacob astor. he became chief agent of the fur company on lake superior, with residence at la pointe. in he removed to st. paul and entered into a partnership with pierre chouteau. in the banking house of borup & oakes, of which he was senior partner, was established. dr. borup died of heart disease, july , , but the banking business was continued under the firm name many years later. he was married july , , to elizabeth beaulieu, a daughter of basil beaulieu, a french trader of mackinaw. his widow died in st. paul several years ago. of a family of eleven children, nine survive. capt. russell blakeley, one of the best known of the early steamboat men, was born in north adams, massachusetts, april , . he spent a part of his early life in genesee county, new york, where he received a common school education; emigrated to peoria, illinois, in , where he engaged in the real estate business; in he removed to galena, where he engaged in mining and smelting; in to southwest virginia, returning to galena in , where he became one of a steamboat transportation company. he was clerk upon the first boat on the line, the argo. this boat sank and he was transferred to the dr. franklin, of which he became captain. he was captain of the nominee in , and of the galena in . this last named boat was burned at red wing, july , . in he was appointed agent at dunleith of the packet company, and soon afterward bought a leading interest in the northwestern express company. the next year he removed to st. paul. in he retired from the company. of late years he has interested himself in railroad enterprises, and has contributed greatly to the prosperity of the city and state. rensselaer r. nelson, united states district judge since minnesota became a state, was born in cooperstown, otsego county, new york, may , . his paternal great-grandfather came from ireland in . his grandfather was born in ireland, but came to this country in his childhood. his father, samuel nelson, was associate justice of the united states supreme court. his father served as a soldier in the war of , and the son located the land warrant given for his services in minnesota. the mother of rensselaer was catharine ann (russell), a descendant of rev. john russell, of hadley, massachusetts, in whose house the regicides goffe and whalley were concealed for years, and where they finally died. rensselaer r. nelson graduated at yale in . in he was admitted to practice law. he came to st. paul in . in president buchanan appointed him territorial judge, and in , united states district judge, which office he still holds. he was married to mrs. emma f. wright, a daughter of washington beebe, of new york state, nov. , . george loomis becker was born feb. , , in locke, cayuga county, new york. his father, hiram becker, was a descendant of the early dutch settlers of the mohawk valley. in his father removed to ann arbor, michigan, where the son entered the state university as a freshman, and graduated in . he studied law with george sedgewick until , when he emigrated to st. paul, arriving late in october. here he commenced the practice of law, being associated with edmund rice and e. j. whitall. subsequently, on the withdrawal of mr. whitall, wm. hollinshead became a member of the firm. the partnership continued until , when mr. becker withdrew to engage in other pursuits, since which time he has been engaged in forwarding the railroad interests of the state and serving in various positions of honor and trust. he served as a member of the constitutional convention in . in he was chosen land commissioner of the st. paul & pacific railroad, and in was elected president of that corporation. in he was the unsuccessful candidate of his party for congress. he is a member of the old settlers association, of which he was president in , and of the minnesota historical society, over which he presided as president in . he was one of the original members of the presbyterian church in st. paul in . he has served in the council of st. paul, and as mayor. he has figured most creditably in the business, political, social and religious life of his adopted city, and is an admirable type of a public spirited citizen. since he has served as railroad commissioner. in , at keesville, new york, he was married to susannah m. ismon, an estimable lady, who has made his home attractive. their family consists of four sons. aaron goodrich.--hon. aaron goodrich, first chief justice of the supreme court of minnesota territory, was born in sempronius, cayuga county, new york, july , . his parents were levi h. and eunice (spinner) goodrich. he traces his ancestry back through the connecticut branch of the goodrich family to a period in english history prior to the advent of william the conqueror. his mother was a sister of dr. john skinner, who married a daughter of roger sherman. in his father removed to western new york, where the son was raised on a farm and educated chiefly by his father, who was a fine scholar and teacher. he then studied law and commenced practice in stewart county, tennessee. in to he was a member of the tennessee legislature. in he was appointed to the supreme bench of minnesota territory. he filled the position for three years. in , at the state organization, he was appointed a member of a commission to revise the laws and prepare a system of pleading for state courts. in he was made chairman of a similar commission. in march, , president lincoln appointed him secretary of the legation at brussels, where he served eight years. while abroad, by his habits of study and opportunities for research, he laid the foundation of his critical and somewhat sensational work, "a history of the character and achievements of the so-called christopher columbus." in politics judge goodrich was originally a whig, and was a presidential elector in . he was next a republican, and served as delegate to the convention of . in he was a delegate to the liberal republican convention which nominated horace greeley for president. in later years he voted with the democratic party. mr. goodrich was deputy past grand master of the grand lodge of freemasons in the state, was one of the corporate members of the state historical society and of the old settlers association, of which he was for many years the secretary. in he was married to miss alice paris, of bogota, new grenada, a descendant of the old castilian family de paris, an accomplished lady, who, with a daughter, survives him. judge goodrich died in st. paul in . nathan myrick was born in westford, essex county, new york, july , . he came to la crosse, wisconsin, in . the writer first met him at prairie du chien in . he was one of the principal founders of the city of la crosse, managing a trading house in company with scoots miller. he also engaged in lumbering on black river. he came to st. paul in , and has since made that city his home. he has been an enterprising and successful trader with the indians, principally with the sioux. much of his trading stock was destroyed by the sioux indians in the insurrection of , but he has been recompensed in part by the government. in he was married to rebecca ismon. they have three children. john melvin gilman, son of john and ruth (curtis) gilman, was born in calais, vermont, sept. , . his father died in . the son received a good common school and academic education, graduating from the montpelier academy in . he read law with heaton & reed, of montpelier, and was admitted to the bar in . during the same year he removed to new lisbon, ohio, where he practiced law eleven years and served one term ( - ) in the state legislature. in mr. gilman came to st. paul, and formed a partnership with hon. james smith, jr., and later became one of the firm of gilman, clough & lane. mr. gilman served four terms as a representative in the state legislature. his affiliations have been with the democratic party, for which he has been twice a candidate for congress and chairman of the state central committee. he was married to miss anna cornwall, of new lisbon, ohio, june , . charles eugene flandrau, son of thomas hunt and elisabeth (macomb) flandrau, was born july , , in new york city. on his father's side he is descended from huguenots driven into exile by the revocation of the edict of nantes; on his mother's side from the macombs of ireland. one of his uncles was gen. alexander macomb, commander-in-chief of the united states army immediately preceding gen. winfield scott. he was educated until thirteen years of age in the private schools at georgetown and washington, after which he spent about three years before the mast; was at new york city about three years, when he went to whitesboro, oneida county, new york, where he read law and afterward entered into partnership with his father, being admitted to practice in . in he came to st. paul with horace r. bigelow and commenced practice in the firm of bigelow & flandrau. in he removed to st. peter and practiced law for several years. this year ( ) he was appointed a notary public by gen. gorman. [illustration: truly yours, john b. sanborn.] in he was elected a member of the territorial council, and in was appointed by president pierce united states agent for the sioux indians. in he served as a member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention, and in july of the same year was appointed by president buchanan associate justice of the supreme court of minnesota territory. he was elected to the same office, on the admission of minnesota as a state, for a term of seven years. during gov. sibley's administration, he acted as judge advocate general of the state. judge flandrau took an active part in suppressing the sioux outbreak, serving as captain, and later as a colonel, of volunteers. in judge flandrau resigned his place on the supreme bench and went to nevada territory for a year; spent some time in kentucky and st. louis, missouri, and returned to minnesota in , locating at minneapolis, where he opened a law office with judge isaac atwater. he was elected city attorney and was president of the first board of trade. in he removed to st. paul and engaged in law practice with bigelow & clark. in judge flandrau was the democratic nominee for governor of the state, and in for the position of chief justice. in he was chairman of the state central committee, and a member of the national convention that nominated horatio seymour for the presidency of the united states. judge flandrau was married aug. , , to isabella dinsmore, of kentucky, deceased in . his second wife was mrs. rebecca b. riddle, of pittsburgh, pennsylvania, feb. , . his family consists of two daughters by his first wife and two sons by his second. gen. john b. sanborn was born dec. , , in merrimac county, new hampshire, on the farm which had been in the possession of his ancestors for four generations. after a common school education he entered the law office of judge fowler, of concord, new hampshire, where he remained for three years, when he was admitted to practice by the superior court of new hampshire, in . in the following december he came to minnesota, where he has remained, a citizen of st. paul, and in the practice of his profession, except what time he has been absent in the public service. his public career began in - , in the house of representatives. the following year he was sent to the senate, and that had adjourned but a little over a month when he was appointed adjutant general and acting quartermaster general of the state, and entered upon the arduous duties of organizing the first regiment of volunteers in the state for the war of the rebellion. in the following december he was commissioned colonel of the fourth minnesota, and, with headquarters at fort snelling, garrisoned all the posts and commanded all the troops along the minnesota frontier during the winter. early in the spring of he left with his entire command for pittsburgh landing, and was assigned to the command of a demi-brigade, which he commanded till the evacuation of those works, and was thereupon assigned to the command of the first brigade, seventh division, army of the mississippi, afterward the seventeenth army corps. on the nineteenth of september following, with this brigade he fought the battle of iuka and won the victory for which he was promoted by the president to brigadier general of volunteers. he participated in the battles of port gibson, raymond, jackson, champion hills, and the assault on vicksburg--a portion of which time he was in command of a division. after the surrender of vicksburg he was assigned to the command of the southwest district of missouri, where, after the campaign against price, he was promoted to brevet major general. after the close of the war, by a few months' campaign on the upper arkansas and along the smoky hill river, he opened to travel the long lines across the plains to colorado and new mexico, which had been closed for nearly two years, and restored peace to that frontier. upon a mission to the indian territory, to establish the relations which should exist between the slaves of the indians and their former masters, he solved the questions and determined the relations, and established them upon a firm foundation in the short space of ninety days. in he was appointed, with gens. sherman, harney, terry, and senator henderson, a special peace commissioner to the indians, and for eighteen months served upon that board. this commission visited and made treaties with the camanche, cheyenne, arrapahoe, apache, navajo, shoshone, northern cheyenne, northern arrapahoe, and crow tribes; and with the ogalalla, brule, minneconjon, sausauche, black feet, umkapapa, santee, and yankton bands of the sioux nation. they settled upon and recommended to congress a fixed policy to be pursued toward the indians, which, while followed, resulted in comparative safety to the frontier, and greater economy in the service. since these services the general has devoted himself entirely to his profession, and with more than ordinary success. john r. irvine was born in dansville, livingston county, new york, nov. , , and was brought up there till seventeen years of age. his education when a boy was obtained at the common schools, and was quite limited. from seventeen to twenty years of age he lived in carlisle and other places in pennsylvania, during which he learned the trade of plastering, and was married in carlisle in , to miss nancy galbreath. soon after his marriage he returned to dansville. the following spring he went to buffalo, new york; in the spring of emigrated to green bay, wisconsin, and in the spring of removed to prairie du chien. while in prairie du chien mr. irvine kept a grocery. during that time he made two trips to st. paul--the last one with a team loaded with provisions, on the ice the most of the way--and on the third of august, , arrived in st. paul with his family. on his arrival he bought of joseph rondeau a claim of acres of land, afterward converted into rice & irvine's addition, irvine's enlargement and irvine's addition to the city of st. paul, including most of the present city from st. peter street to leech's addition, for about $ . mr. irvine entered it in . the east acres of a quarter included in this claim mr. irvine sold to henry m. rice in , and in the winter they laid off rice & irvine's addition, and commenced selling lots and making improvements on the property. since living in st. paul mr. irvine has been engaged in farming, milling, storekeeping, working at his trade, and managing his estate. he was one of the earliest settlers of st. paul, whose life amidst its many changes has been contemporaneous with its history from the very beginning. mr. irvine has had eight children, seven of whom, namely, six daughters and one son, are living. mr. irvine died in . horace ransom bigelow was born in watervliet, new york, march , . his father, otis bigelow, was a revolutionary patriot and soldier. he received a good education at the schools of sangerfield and the gymnasium at utica. he spent part of his early life in farming and teaching. later he studied law and was admitted to practice in , in utica, where he entered into partnership with e. s. brayton until , when he removed to st. paul, minnesota, in company with charles e. flandrau. he has since devoted himself almost exclusively to his law practice, which includes almost every branch except criminal law. in june, , he was married to cornelia sherrill, of hartford, new york. they have four children. cushman k. davis.--in the quaint little quaker village of henderson, new york, in a small house built partly of logs, and mossy and venerable with age, on june , , cushman kellogg davis, late governor and present senator from minnesota, was born. his father, horatio n. davis, removed to wisconsin in august or september of the same year, and settled on the present site of waukesha. his father was quite prominent; had served during the civil war, and retired from the service with the brevet rank of major; had held various municipal offices, and had been a member of the wisconsin senate. cushman, his oldest son, received as good an education as the times afforded, at the common schools, at carroll college, a waukesha institution, and at ann arbor, michigan, where he graduated in . he read law with gov. randall, was admitted to the bar in , and practiced at waukesha until , when he enlisted in the twenty-eighth wisconsin infantry, going in as first lieutenant of company b, but was adjutant general under gen. gorman most of the time. at the end of two years, with broken health, he resigned his commission and settled in st. paul in partnership with gen. gorman. in he was elected a representative in the state legislature, and served one term. he was united states district attorney from until , when he was elected governor. he served two years, and was the youngest man who has been elected to that office. after leaving the governor's chair he resumed his law practice until the senatorial election of , when he was chosen to succeed senator mcmillan in the united states senate. senator davis has devoted some time to general literature. his lecture on "feudalism" was delivered in , and this lecture probably secured him the nomination for governor in . he has also lectured on "hamlet" and "madam roland," and in delivered a lecture before the army of the tennessee and in a lecture to the graduating class at michigan university. he also published a book entitled "the law in shakespeare," which attracted considerable attention. he was married to miss anna m. agnew, of st. paul, in . s. j. r. mcmillan was born in fayette county, pennsylvania, in . he spent part of his early days in pittsburgh; received a collegiate education; studied law; was admitted to practice in , and came to stillwater in , where he established a law office. in he was elected judge of the first district and served until , when he was appointed to the supreme bench. he was elected to the position in the fall of the same year and served until , when he was elected to the united states senate. he was re-elected in , and was succeeded in by cushman k. davis. he removed to st. paul in . senator mcmillan has had an honorable career and is greatly respected as an upright, conscientious, active and thoroughly practical man. he was married at pittsburgh in , to harriet e. butler. they have three sons and three daughters. willis arnold gorman, second territorial governor of minnesota, was born in fleming county, kentucky, jan. , . he received a good literary education, and his parents having moved to bloomington, indiana, he graduated at the law school connected with the state university at that place. he commenced practice at bloomington and was quite popular as a lawyer, but even more so as a party leader, and was elected to the legislature six times in succession. at the breaking out of the mexican war, in , he enlisted as a private in the third indiana volunteers, but was appointed major. he won the reputation of a gallant, dashing officer, and was promoted to be colonel of the fourth indiana, which he helped recruit. he served till the close of the war. on his return to indiana, in , he was elected to congress, and re-elected in . in may, , he was appointed by president pierce governor of minnesota territory. in , at the close of his term of office as governor, he was elected a member of the constitutional convention, and was also an unsuccessful candidate for the united states senatorship. in the spring of , at the breaking out of the civil war, he was appointed colonel of the first minnesota infantry. for bravery at the first battle of bull run he was commissioned brigadier general. he was mustered out in . returning to minnesota he formed a law partnership with cushman k. davis. in he was elected city attorney and held that office till his death, which occurred at st. paul, may , . he was twice married, first to miss martha stone, of bloomington, indiana, in . she died in march, , leaving five children. in april, , he was married to miss emily newington, of st. paul. john d. ludden was born in massachusetts, april , ; was educated at williston seminary, and came west to the lead mines of wisconsin in . in he came to st. croix falls, wisconsin, remained at this point and at taylor's falls until , when he made his residence at marine mills, minnesota. in he changed his residence to stillwater, and in became a citizen of st. paul, where he still resides. he was a member of the second, third and fourth territorial legislatures. from to the present time he has been engaged chiefly in lumbering. he is a man of pleasing address, of good business talent and thoroughly reliable. elias f. drake is a native of ohio, in which state he lived until , when he came to st. paul. his boyhood days were spent on a farm; later he engaged in mercantile pursuits, and still later studied law under the instruction of justice swayne of the united states supreme court, and was admitted to practice in all the courts of ohio and in the united states court. after a short and successful term of practice, he became cashier of the state bank of ohio, and in that capacity spent ten years of his life. during that time he served three terms in the legislature, being speaker one session, during which the late gov. swift was clerk of the house. in politics mr. drake was a whig, and afterward a republican. during his residence in ohio he was active in promoting the improvements of the country, successfully building several leading turnpike roads and a few railroads. in he came to minnesota, and, put in operation the first railroad in the state, a road between st. paul and st. anthony falls. in he was president of the winona & st. peter railroad during the construction of the first ten miles. soon after, he, with some associates, took hold of the minnesota valley railroad, and completed it to sioux city, iowa, in . he is president and land commissioner of this company. mr. drake represented ramsey county in the state senate in - . norman w. kittson was born at sorel, lower canada, march , . in may, , he engaged as an employe of the american fur company, and in that capacity came to the northwest. from the summer of to that of he occupied the trading post between the fox river and the wisconsin. the following year he operated on the headwaters of the minnesota, after which he spent a year on red cedar river, in iowa. in he came to fort snelling, where he was sutler's clerk till . the winter of - he spent with his friends in canada. on his return in the spring he began business on his own account in the fur trade, at cold springs in the vicinity of fort snelling, which he continued till , when he entered the american fur company as special partner, having charge of all the business on the headwaters of the minnesota, and along the line of the british possessions, and operating in that field till . during that summer he entered into partnership with maj. wm. h. forbes, in the general indian trade, at st. paul, and went there to reside in the fall of that year. the partnership continued till , and mr. kittson continued his northern business till , when he closed out. in he accepted the position of agent for the hudson bay company at st. paul, and went into the steamboat and transportation business on the red river of the north. from to mr. kittson was a member of the territorial council, and was mayor of the city of st. paul in . he was the oldest of the pioneers of minnesota, except joseph dajenais, a french canadian, now residing at faribault. mr. kittson died july , , on a railroad train near chicago. his body was brought to st. paul for burial. hascal russell brill was born in the county of mississquoi, canada, aug. , . he was educated partly at hamline university, then located at red wing, and finished at ann arbor, michigan. he studied law and was admitted to practice at st. paul in december, , and formed a partnership with stanford newel. three years later he was elected probate judge and served two years. in he was appointed by gov. davis to fill the vacancy in the court of common pleas caused by the death of judge w. s. hall, and a few months later was elected by the people to fill the same position. in politics judge brill is republican. he was married aug. , , to cora a. gray, of suspension bridge, niagara county, new york. ward w. folsom, brother of simeon p. and w. h. c. folsom, was born in tamworth, new hampshire, oct. , , but in early life removed with his parents to skowhegan, maine, and in came to arcola, minnesota. in he removed to st. croix falls and in to taylor's falls, where he kept the chisago house and engaged in lumbering until , when he removed to st. paul, which city has since been his home. he was employed for three years during the civil war in the quartermaster's department at st. louis, missouri. in , with health greatly shattered, he returned to st. paul. he was married to sydney puget, of st. louis, in . they have two adopted sons. gordon e. cole was born in berkshire county, massachusetts, june , ; received his education at sheffield academy, massachusetts, and at the dane law school of harvard university, from which school he graduated in . he practiced law two years in his native town, came to minnesota, and located in faribault in . in he was elected attorney general and served three consecutive terms. he served one year as state senator, and a year in compiling state statutes. he has been a railroad attorney and has filled many honorable positions. he was married in august, , to stella c. whipple, of shaftsbury, vermont, who died in june, , leaving three children. feb. , , he was married to kate d. turner, of cleveland, ohio. james smith, jr., was born in mount vernon, knox county, ohio, oct. , . he obtained a good practical, common school education, and was besides largely self taught. he read law three years in lancaster, ohio, was admitted to the bar in , and practiced law in his native town for seventeen years. in he came to st. paul, where he has been associated in practice with judge lafayette emmett, john m. gilman and j. j. egan. since the building of the st. paul & duluth railroad he has been its attorney, general manager and president. mr. smith was in the state senate in - - and , and proved a careful and able legislator. as a lawyer he stands deservedly high. he was married to elisabeth martin, jan. , . they have four children. william pitt murray is of irish descent. he was born in hamilton, butler county, ohio, in ; came to centreville, indiana, in ; attended school there, graduated at the state law school at bloomington in , and the same year came to st. paul, where he has practiced law ever since. he has also taken an active part in the politics of the city and state. he has probably assisted in the passage of more laws than any other man in the state. he was a member of the territorial house of representatives in - and , and of the territorial council of - , acting as president in the latter year. he was a member of the democratic wing of the constitutional convention in ; was a representative in the state legislatures of and , and a state senator in - , - , and has besides served sixteen years in the city council of st. paul. he has been county and city attorney since . he has been honored beyond most public servants and has a county named after him. he was married to carolina s. conwell, of laurel, indiana, april , . they have three children living. henry hale.--judge hale was born in vermont in ; studied law and was admitted to practice in his native state. he came to st. paul in and opened a law office on bridge square. he took an active part in the politics of the state and vehemently opposed the $ , , loan bill. he has since retired from law practice, and is now a successful dealer in real estate. james gilfillan, son of james and janet (gilmor) gilfillan, was born in bannockburn, scotland, march , . his parents came to america in and located at new hartford, new york. he was educated in the common schools, read law and was admitted to practice in . he removed to buffalo, new york, where he practiced law until , when he removed to st. paul and opened a law office. in he enlisted in company h, seventh minnesota volunteer infantry, became its captain and before the close of the war was commissioned colonel of the eleventh minnesota infantry. in he was appointed to a vacancy on the supreme bench of the state and again in . the same year he was elected to the office for seven years, at the end of which time he was re-elected. he was married june , , to miss martha mcmasters, of st. paul. they have six children. charles duncan gilfillan, a younger brother of james, was born in new hartford, new york, july , . he was educated in the common schools, homer academy and hamilton college. after leaving college, in , he located in missouri, and a year later came to stillwater, minnesota, where he read law with michael e. ames, was admitted to the bar in and removed to st. paul in , where he engaged for about twelve years in the practice of his profession. since that period he has been engaged in furthering various public enterprises, among them the st. paul water works, of which he was the founder and for many years manager. he has occupied various public positions, always with credit to himself. he was the first recorder of stillwater; was a member of the state legislatures of - , and , and a member of the senate from to , inclusive. at the session of he was chairman of the railroad committee and the committees on judiciary and education. in politics he is a republican. mr. gilfillan was married to emma c. waage, of montgomery county, new york, who died in , leaving no issue. in he married fanny s. waage, sister of his first wife. they have four children. alexander wilkin was born in orange county, new york, in december, . he studied law with his father, judge samuel j. wilkin, and practiced awhile at goshen. in he enlisted in the tenth new york regulars for service in the mexican war, and was commissioned captain. in the spring of he came to st. paul; practiced law; was appointed united states marshal in , and served until . he visited europe during the crimean war, and studied the art of war before sebastopol. at the breaking out of the rebellion, he raised the first company for the first regiment, acted with conspicuous bravery at the battle of bull run, and was commissioned major of the second minnesota, lieutenant colonel in the same regiment, and colonel of the ninth minnesota, all in the same year, . he took part in the indian campaign, but at its close returned south, his regiment being attached to the sixteenth army corps, under gen. a. j. smith. he was advanced to the position of brigade commander, and was killed at the battle of tupelo, mississippi, july , . wilkin county, minnesota, bears his name. wescott wilken, a brother of alexander, was born at goshen, new york, in , received a good education, graduating at princeton college in , and studied law at new haven law school in . he practiced law in sullivan county, new york, and was county judge four years. in he came to st. paul and formed a partnership with i. v. d. heard; was elected judge of the district court in , and re-elected every succeeding term, without opposition. s. c. whitcher was born in genesee county, new york, in . he came to amador, chisago county, minnesota, in , and to st. paul in . he was married to helen m. olds, in new york, in . their two sons are charles and edward. maj. thomas mclean newson was born in new york city, feb. , , of scotch-irish parentage. his paternal grandfather was paymaster in the army during the war of . his father, capt. george newson, commanded a military company in new york city for seventeen years. three uncles were in the war of . his father removed to new haven, connecticut, in , and both parents died there in . the son, after his parents' death, was placed in a boarding school. when he left the school he learned the printer's trade, and on arriving at his majority entered into partnership with john b. hotchkiss in the publication of the _derby journal_, in birmingham, connecticut. during this period he wrote poetry, delivered lectures, and took an active part in political affairs. he was secretary of the first editorial association in connecticut, and started and conducted for a year the first daily penny paper in the state. he was one of the originators of the reform school and an efficient promoter of its interests. he came to st. paul in , where he was first associated with joseph r. brown in the editorial department of the _pioneer_, but the following spring, in company with others, started the _daily times_, which he edited until , when he leased the material to w. r. marshall. the _press_ was the outgrowth of this movement. he was one of the founders of the republican party in the state and was sole delegate of his party in minnesota to the pittsburgh national convention. at the outbreak of the rebellion he entered the service of his country, was commissioned commissary of subsistence and subsequently appointed acting assistant quartermaster, with the rank of captain. at one time he was chief commissary at st. cloud. he left the army with a splendid record for honesty and capacity, with the brevet rank of major, conferred for meritorious service, and the offer of a position in the regular army, which he declined. in he was commander and president of a company which explored the vermillion lake region prospecting for precious metals. he was the first to assay the iron ores, now so famous, in that region. in later years we find him prospecting amongst the black hills, enjoying the wild life of the frontier and devoting some attention to literature. while there he wrote a drama of "life in the hills" and delivered lectures at various times and places, achieving in this line an enviable success. since this period he has written and published an interesting work, entitled "thrilling scenes among the indians," drawn from his own observation and experience; also "pen pictures and biographical sketches of old settlers of st. paul, from to ," a rich and racy book of seven hundred and thirty-two pages, in which the driest biographical details are enlivened with amusing anecdotes and witty comments, in which naught is set down in malice, but every line glows with the genial spirit of the author. he has in contemplation another volume on the same subject. he has also published "heleopa," "indian legends" and "recollections of eminent men." maj. newson is a man of varied and miscellaneous gifts. he is a ready writer, a fluent and eloquent speaker, a journalist, a historian and the oldest editor in minnesota. he is corresponding secretary of the national editorial association, and the first and only honorary member of the state fire association; he is a geologist, mineralogist and assayer, a member of the g. a. r., of the masonic and odd fellows lodges, and of the junior pioneers. he is broad-gauged and popular in his views and positive in the expression of his opinions. he was married to miss harriet d. brower, in albany, new york, in , and has a family of five girls and one boy, may, hattie, nellie, jessie, grace, and t. m. newson, jr. [illustration: maj. t. m. newson, the oldest editor in the state.] [illustration: capt. henry a. castle, one of minnesota's pioneer editors.] col. alvaren allen was born in new york in ; came to wisconsin in , and to st. anthony falls in , where he engaged in the livery, staging and express business. in he followed railroading; in he bought col. shaw's interest in the merchants hotel of st. paul, for $ , , and col. potter's interest for $ , , property now held at $ , . in he rented the property to mr. welz. col. allen is a genial man, and has friends all over the continent. he was the second mayor of st. anthony falls, and has held various public positions in st. paul. [illustration: h. p. hall.] harlan p. hall.--the writer has been unable to obtain any sketch of the history of mr. hall. we have to say that he has been an enterprising journalist in st. paul. he was the founder of the _daily_ and _weekly_ st. paul _dispatch_; also of the st. paul _daily_ and _weekly globe_. he is a fluent, versatile writer, and a genial associate. stephen miller, a native of perry county, pennsylvania, was born jan. , . being in straitened circumstances he early commenced a life of toil, supported himself and to a great extent educated himself. in he removed to st. cloud, minnesota, and engaged in mercantile pursuits. in he served as delegate to the republican convention at chicago that nominated lincoln for the presidency. in he enlisted as a private soldier, but rose rapidly from the ranks, being commissioned as a lieutenant colonel of the first minnesota infantry, then as colonel of the seventh minnesota infantry. he was in command of this regiment at the execution of the thirty-eight condemned indian murderers at mankato. in he was commissioned as brigadier general but resigned to accept the position of governor of minnesota. in he removed from st. paul to windom. in he was in the minnesota house of representatives. in he was presidential elector. in he was married to margaret funk, of dauphin county, pennsylvania. they have had three sons. one son was killed at the battle of gettysburg. gov. miller died in , at windom, minnesota. chapter xxii. dakota county. this county, a rich farming district, lies on the west bank of the mississippi between ramsey and goodhue counties. it was originally well diversified with timber and prairie lands, and is well watered by the tributaries of the mississippi and minnesota rivers. vermillion river, which flows through this county, has near its junction with the mississippi a picturesque waterfall, now somewhat marred by the erection of mills and manufactories. hastings, lying near the mouth of the vermillion river, is a wide-awake, thriving city, beautifully located on the banks of the mississippi. it has a fine court house, good hotels, manufactories and business blocks. the hastings & dakota railroad has its eastern terminus here. the st. paul & milwaukee, burlington & northern railroads pass through the city. the river is bridged at this place. farmington, near the centre of the county, on the chicago, st. paul & minneapolis railroad, is a thriving business village. west st. paul has encroached largely upon the north part of the county. biographical. ignatius donnelly.--the parents of ignatius donnelly came from the green isle in , settling in philadelphia, where ignatius was born, nov. , . he was educated in the graded and high schools of his native city, graduating at the latter in , and taking his degree of master of arts three years later. he read law with benjamin harris brewster, and was admitted to the bar in philadelphia in , and practiced there until , when he came to minnesota and located at ninninger, and purchasing from time to time nearly , acres of land, devoted himself to farming, not so busily, however, as to prevent him from taking a prominent part in public affairs. a captivating and fluent speaker, and besides a man of far more than ordinary native ability and acquirements, he was not suffered to remain on his dakota farm. in he was elected lieutenant governor of the newly admitted state, and was re-elected in , serving four years. he served his district in the thirty-seventh, thirty-eighth and thirty-ninth congresses. during his congressional term he advocated many important measures, taking an advanced position in regard to popular education, and the cultivation and preservation of timber on the public lands. for his advocacy of the last named measure he was much ridiculed at the time, but has lived to see his views generally understood, and his measures to a great extent adopted in many of the western states. he advocated amending the law relating to railroad land grants, so as to require their sale, within a reasonable period, at low prices. when he entered congress, he gave up his law practice, and since his last term he has devoted himself chiefly to farming, journalism and general literature. in july, , he became editor and proprietor of the _anti-monopolist_, which he conducted several years. within the last decade he has published several works that have given him both national and transatlantic fame. his works on the fabled "atlantis" and "ragnarok" prove him to be not only a thinker and scientist, but a writer, the charms of whose style are equal to the profundity of his thought. his last work on the authorship of the shakespearean plays has attracted universal attention, not only for the boldness of his speculations, but for the consummate ingenuity he has shown in detecting the alleged cipher by which he assumes to prove lord bacon to be the author of the plays in question. the book has excited much controversy, and, as was to be expected, much adverse criticism. mr. donnelly was married in philadelphia, sept. , , to miss catherine mccaffrey of that city. they have three children living. francis m. crosby.--the ancestors of mr. crosby were of revolutionary fame. he was born in wilmington, windham county, vermont, nov. , . he received a common and high school education and spent one year at mount cæsar seminary, at swansea, new hampshire. he studied law and was admitted to practice at bennington, vermont, in . he served in the vermont house of representatives in - . he continued the practice of law until , when he came to hastings and engaged in the practice of law. he served as judge of probate court in - , acted as school commissioner several years in dakota county, and was elected, in , judge of the first judicial district comprising the counties of goodhue, dakota, washington, chisago, pine, and kanabec. he held the first courts in pine and kanabec counties. judge crosby is held in high esteem, not only by the bar, but by the people at large. he is gentlemanly in his manners, yet prompt and decisive in action. he was married to helen a. sprague, in new york, may , . mrs. crosby died in . he married a second wife, helen m. bates, in new york, in . they have two sons and three daughters. hon. g. w. le duc was born at wilkesville, gallia county, ohio, march , . his father, henry savary duc, was the son of henri duc, an officer of the french army, who came over with d'estaing to assist the colonies in the revolutionary struggle. the grandfather, after some stirring adventures in guadaloupe, where he came near being murdered in a negro insurrection, escaped and came to middletown, connecticut, in , where he was married to lucy, daughter of col. john sumner, of duryea's brigade, continental troops, and a member of the sumner family which came to massachusetts in . the father was married to mary stewell, of braintree, new york, in . the family name, originally written duc, was changed to le duc in . the grandfather removed to ohio and founded the town of wilkesville. g. w. le duc, the grandson, spent his early life at this place, but was educated at lancaster academy, a school that numbered amongst its scholars gen. w. t. and senator john sherman, the ewing brothers, and others prominent in the history of the country. he entered kenyon college in , graduated in , and was employed for awhile by the firms of h. w. derby & co., of cincinnati, and a. s. barnes & co., of new york. meanwhile he studied law, and in was admitted to practice in the supreme court of ohio. july , , he came to st. paul and engaged in selling books, supplying the legislature and the government officers at the fort, but gradually turned his attention to practice in land office courts. at the breaking out of the rebellion he enlisted, and was assigned to duty as captain a. z. in the army of the potomac. during his term of service he was promoted to the grades of lieutenant colonel, colonel and brigadier general by brevet. since the war his most important official position has been that of commissioner of agriculture through the administration of president hayes. in he removed to hastings, and has ever since been identified with the progress and prosperity of that city, and is the owner of large property interests there. [illustration: hon. g. w. le duc.] goodhue county. this county lies on the west bank of the mississippi river, between the counties of dakota and wabasha. it derived its name from james m. goodhue, pioneer editor and publisher in st. paul. it is a rich and populous county. the county seat is red wing, a thriving city of , inhabitants, located on the banks of the mississippi a short distance below the mouth of cannon river, and at the outlet of several valleys forming a larger valley, well adapted to become the site of a city. the hills surrounding the city are high, bold and many of them precipitous. mount la grange, commonly known as barn bluff, a large isolated bluff, a half mile in length and three hundred and twenty feet in height, stands between the lower part of the city and the river. part of the county lies upon the shore of lake pepin, and includes the famous point no point, a bold promontory extending far out into the lake, with a curve so gradual that the eye of the person ascending or descending the lake is unable to define the point, which appears to recede before him as he approaches, till at last it disappears, when looking backward he sees it in the part of the lake already traversed. cannon river, a considerable stream, passes through the county from west to east. cannon falls, on this river, once a picturesque and wild waterfall, is now surrounded by the mills, manufactories and dwellings of a flourishing village, named after the falls. goodhue county was organized under territorial law. in the principal point was red wing. there we found a swiss missionary named galvin, an indian farmer name bush and the noted jack frazer, a half-breed trader, all living in log buildings. mr. galvin had a school of indian children. near by was an indian cemetery--burying ground it could not be called, as the bodies of the dead were elevated upon the branches of trees and upon stakes to be out of reach of animals. the bodies were wrapped in blankets and exposed until the flesh had decayed, when the bones were taken and buried. red wing's band of sioux indians had their encampment here. it is said that red wing, the chief for whom the village and city was afterward named, chose for his burial place the summit of barn bluff, and that when he died he was buried there, seated upon his horse, with his face turned to the happy hunting ground, the indians heaping the earth around him till a huge mound was formed. the legend may need confirmation, but a mound is there to this day, on the highest part of the bluff, and the high spirited chief could certainly have wished no nobler grave. red wing city bears few traces of its humble origin. it is a fine, compactly built city, with handsome public and private buildings. it was for some years the seat of hamline university, now removed to st. paul. biographical. hans mattson.--col. mattson is a native of onestad, sweden. he was born dec. , . his parents were matts and ilgena (larson) mattson, both now residents of vasa, minnesota. the son was educated at a high classical school in christianstad, and in his seventeenth year entered the military service as a cadet and served one year. disliking its monotony, and having an adventurous spirit he embarked for america, where he found himself abjectly poor, and worked as a cabin boy on a coasting vessel, as a farm hand, and afterward with a shovel on an illinois railroad until , when he secured a position as an emigrant agent, whose business it was to select homes for swedish colonists. he, with others, came to vasa, goodhue county, minnesota, where he dealt in real estate, studying law meanwhile with warren bristol. he was admitted to the bar in . he was elected county auditor the same year and served till , when he entered the army as captain of company d, third minnesota infantry. at the end of four years he left the service with the rank of colonel. after his return from the war he formed a law partnership with c. c. webster, and a year later he accepted the position of editor of a swedish newspaper in chicago. in gov. marshall appointed him secretary of the state board of immigration, which position he held several years, doing the state excellent service. in he was elected secretary of state, but before his term of office expired resigned to accept the appointment of land agent of railway corporations, which enabled him to spend four years abroad. [illustration: l. f. hubbard] col. mattson was for some time editor of the _staats tidning_, a swedish paper in minneapolis, and a large owner and general manager of the _swedish tribune_ published in chicago. he was a presidential elector in . he was again elected secretary of state for - . he is a versatile writer and a fluent speaker, a frank, outspoken and honorable man. he was married nov. , , to cherstin peterson, a native of bullingslof, sweden. they have five children living. lucius frederick hubbard was born jan. , , at troy, new york. he was the oldest son of charles f. and margaret (van valkenburg) hubbard, his father being a descendant of the hubbard family that emigrated from the mother country and settled in new england in ; his mother coming from the holland dutch stock that has occupied the valley of the hudson river since its earliest history. the father dying early, the son found a home with an aunt at chester, vermont, until he was twelve years old, when he was sent for three years to the academy at granville, new york. at the age of fifteen he was apprenticed to a tinner at poultney, vermont, and completed his trade at salem, new york, in , when he removed to chicago for three years. he then removed to red wing, minnesota, and started the red wing _republican_. in he was elected register of deeds of goodhue county. in he sold out his interest in the _republican_ and ran for the state senate, but was defeated by the small majority of seven votes. in december, , he enlisted in company a, fifth minnesota volunteers, and was elected captain. in march, , he became lieutenant colonel; in august, colonel; and for conspicuous gallantry at the battle of nashville was promoted to the position of brigadier general. he participated in the battles of farmington; of corinth, where he was severely wounded; of iuka, the second battle of corinth; of jackson and mississippi springs; in the siege of vicksburg; in the battle of richmond, louisiana; of greenfield, louisiana; of nashville, where he was wounded and had two horses killed under him, and at the siege of spanish fort. he was mustered out in october, , at mobile, alabama. he was engaged in twenty-four battles and minor engagements and won an enviable record for his intrepidity and coolness. he returned to red wing with broken health, the result of fatigue and exposure. in he engaged in the grain business at red wing, and soon thereafter in milling operations on a large scale in wabasha county. in he purchased an interest in the forest mill, at zumbrota, goodhue county, and in , with others, bought the mills and water power at mazeppa, in wabasha county, the mills soon after being rebuilt and enlarged. in he raised, through his personal influence, the money necessary for the completion of the midland railway, a line extending from wabasha to zumbrota. he subsequently projected and organized the minnesota central railway (cannon valley), to run from red wing to mankato. as president of the company he secured the building of the road from red wing to waterville, about sixty-six miles. in gen. hubbard was nominated for congress in the second district of minnesota, but declined. in he was elected to the state senate, and again in , declining a re-election in . in the senate he was regarded as one of the best informed, painstaking and influential members. he was on the committee to investigate the state treasurer's and state auditor's offices, and was largely instrumental in recommending and shaping legislation that brought about the substantial and much needed reform in the management of those offices. he was also one of the three arbitrators selected to settle the difficulties between the state and the prison contractors at stillwater. he was appointed commissioner, with john nichols and gen. tourtelotte, in , to investigate the status of the state railroad bond, levied in , and finally settled in . on sept. , , gen. hubbard was nominated for governor of minnesota, and was elected by a majority of , , the largest majority ever received by any governor elected in the state. in he was renominated and re-elected by a very large majority. gov. hubbard is an affable, genial, courteous gentleman, whose integrity has never been questioned; a man of the people, and in sympathy with them and the best interests and general prosperity of the state. gov. hubbard was married in may, , at red wing, to amelia, daughter of charles thomas, a merchant of that place. he has three children, two boys, aged seventeen and eleven respectively, and a girl. william colville is of scotch descent on his father's side. the ancient homestead of the family at ochiltree is mentioned by sir walter scott in his novel, "the antiquary." on his mother's side he is of irish descent. his ancestors participated in the american revolution. he was born in chautauqua county, new york, april , ; was educated at the fredonia academy, taught school one winter, read law in the office of millard fillmore and solomon l. haven, of buffalo, and was admitted to the bar in . he practiced law at forestville three years, and then removed to red wing, minnesota. his first winter he spent in st. paul as enrolling clerk of the territorial council, and the winter following was secretary of the council. in the spring of he established the red wing _sentinel_, a democratic paper, and conducted it until the civil war broke out. in he entered the service as captain of company f, first minnesota infantry, and served with that regiment three years, conducting himself with such gallantry as to win promotion. he was wounded at the first battle of bull run, at nelson's farm and at gettysburg, the last wounds received maiming him for life, and necessitating a close of his military career. at the end of three years he left the service with the rank of colonel, and edited the _sentinel_ until january, , when he took his seat as representative in the legislature. at its adjournment he was appointed colonel of the first minnesota heavy artillery which was stationed at chattanooga till the close of the war. col. colville was mustered out of the service with the brevet rank of brigadier general. in the autumn of he was elected attorney general of the state on the union ticket and served two years. in he ran for congress in opposition to the republican nominee. in he was elected as a democrat to the lower house of the state legislature in the strongest republican county in the state. the same year he was appointed by president cleveland register of the land office at duluth, to which place he has removed his residence. he was married to miss jane e. morgan, of oneida, new york, in , a descendant of elder brewster, who came over in the mayflower. martin s. chandler, for twenty-two years sheriff of goodhue county, minnesota, was born in jamestown, new york, feb. , . he came to goodhue county in and engaged for awhile farming at pine island. he was elected county commissioner in , and served until , removing meanwhile to red wing, which has since been his home. in he was elected sheriff of goodhue county, and held the office for eleven consecutive terms, until , when he was elected to the state senate. he was presidential elector in . he was appointed surveyor general in , which office he held until . he was married to fannie f. caldwell, of jamestown, new york, in . his only daughter, florence c., is the wife of ira s. kellogg, of red wing, one of the oldest druggists in the state. charles mcclure was born in virginia in ; was graduated at lewisburg, virginia, in ; studied law and was admitted to practice in . he came to minnesota and located at red wing in , where he opened a law office. in he was a member of the constitutional convention, presidential elector in , state senator in - and in , judge of the first district, filling the vacancy caused by the retirement of judge mcmillan. at the fall election of the same year he was elected judge of the first district and served seven years. this district embraced washington, chisago, goodhue and dakota counties. judge mcclure is a man of unquestionable ability and integrity. horace b. wilson was born in bingham; somerset county, maine, march , . his grandfather settled in maine twenty years prior to the revolution. he had a fair common school education until sixteen years old, when he attended the maine wesleyan seminary, graduating four years later. he devoted himself chiefly to teaching, and studied law meanwhile, but never practiced. he taught in cincinnati, ohio, lawrenceburg and new albany, indiana, until , when he was elected city civil engineer, which position he filled six years. in he removed to red wing, minnesota, and taught, as professor of mathematics, natural science and civil engineering in hamline university four years. in he enlisted in company f, sixth minnesota infantry, was elected captain, and mustered out at the close of the war. his military service was quite arduous, including campaigning against the sioux until , when the regiment was ordered south and attached to the sixteenth army corps. in he was appointed superintendent of schools for goodhue county. in he was appointed state superintendent of schools, which position he held five years. he was elected representative in the state legislature in , and subsequently he served four terms as senator, and was president _pro tem._ of that body during the trial of e. st. julien cox, and in the absence of the lieutenant governor presided during the trial. for the past few years he has devoted himself to civil engineering, and has had charge of the public improvements of red wing. in he was married to mary j. chandler, who died in . among the prominent early settlers of red wing not mentioned in our biographical notices were william freeborn, for whom freeborn county was named, and who was a senator in the fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth legislatures. judges welch and wilder, w. c. williston and warren bristol, lawyers, both state senators from goodhue, and the latter a judge in arizona. rev. chauncey hobart, d.d., a methodist pioneer preacher, and author of a history of methodism in minnesota and an autobiography; rev. peter akers, d.d., an eminent educator; rev. m. sorin, d.d., an eloquent preacher, and rev. samuel spates and j. w. hancock, prominent as missionaries, the latter the first pastor located in the village. andrew s. durant, first hotel keeper; calvin f. potter, first merchant. w. w. phelps and christopher graham were appointed to the land office in . wabasha county. this county, named in honor of a sioux chief, lies on the west shore of the mississippi river and lake pepin, between goodhue and winona counties. it has a majestic frontage of bold bluffs on the lake and river. from the summit of these bluffs stretch away broad undulating prairie lands, with occasional depressions, or valleys, caused by the streams tributary to the river. wabasha village is the county seat. the county is traversed by the st. paul & milwaukee railway, and the zumbrota valley narrow gauge railroad has its eastern terminus at wabasha village. a railroad from minneiska to eyota, in olmsted county, through plainview, also passes through this county. lake city is a thriving village on the lake shore, beautifully situated. the grand encampment, located about two miles below wabasha village, was once a point of great interest. it was from time immemorial a camping ground for indians. it has an abundance of ancient mounds. the only people in the county in , when the author first visited this section, were the campbell, cratt, bessian, and a few other french families. bailey and sons, dr. francis h. milligan, b. s. hurd, samuel s. campbell, a prominent lawyer, and wm. l. lincoln came later to wabasha. reed's landing, at the foot of lake pepin, was early settled by messrs. reed, fordyce, richards, and others. this point controls an immense trade for the chippewa river, which empties its waters into the mississippi just opposite. nathaniel stacy tefft is a native of hamilton, madison county, new york, where he was born july , . he was educated in the common schools and academy; in commenced studying medicine and received his diploma the same year at cincinnati, after attending lectures at the medical college in that city. in he came to minnesota and located in minneiska, where he practiced medicine, served as postmaster, justice of the peace, and member of the legislature. in he removed to plainview, where he has taken rank as a leading surgeon and physician in that part of the state. he has also served as member of the state senate (in - ). the writer had the pleasure of meeting him in the legislature of and found him a strong opponent of the $ , , bill. dr. tefft was married to hattie s. gibbs, of plainview, nov. , . james wells.--in the writer found mr. wells living in a stone trading house on the west shore of lake pepin, on the first high ground on the shore above lake city. mr. wells had a half-breed family and was very reticent in his manner. he was a member of the first territorial house of representatives. when the country became more thickly settled he went west and was killed by the sioux indians in the massacre of . winona county was named after the daughter of the indian chief who, according to the well known legend, precipitated herself from the famous rock on the eastern shore of lake pepin, which has ever since been known as "maiden's rock." the county lies on the west shore of the mississippi, below wabasha county. the frontage of the bluffs on the river is unsurpassed for grandeur and beauty, the bluffs here attaining an altitude of six hundred feet above the river. the natural castles and turrets crowning these bluffs remind the traveler of the towns on the rhine and danube, and it is difficult to realize that they are the handiwork of nature and not of man. the most striking of these bluffs occupies a position in the rear of the beautiful city of winona, overlooking the city and the valley, and affording from its summit possibly the finest view on the river. the city of winona lies on a spacious plateau between the bluffs and the river. in a solitary log cabin, the resting place of the mail carrier, marked the site, and a large indian village, belonging to the band of chief wapashaw, occupied a portion of the present site of the city. all traces of this village have long since disappeared, and given place to one of the fairest and most flourishing cities on the river. the first state normal school is located here. the st. paul & milwaukee railroad passes through, and the winona & st. peter railroad has its eastern terminus in this city. it is also the western terminus of the green bay & mississippi. the chicago, burlington & northern crosses the river here, and has a depot in the city. daniel s. norton, at the time of his death united states senator from minnesota, was born in mount vernon, ohio, in april, . he was educated at kenyon college, gambier, ohio; enlisted in the third ohio volunteer infantry in for service in the mexican war; had his health seriously impaired in the service; spent two years in california, mexico and central america; returned to ohio and read law with his father-in-law, judge r. c. hurd, practiced in mount vernon, ohio, with hon. william windom and came with him to minnesota in , locating at winona. mr. norton served as senator in the first state legislature, where the writer served with him on several committees, among them the committee on the $ , , bond bill, a bill which mr. norton strongly and earnestly opposed, predicting clearly its disastrous results. he also served as senator in the legislatures of - and , when he was elected to the united states senate, which position he held at the time of his death, in . he was twice married, first in , to miss lizzie sherman, of mount vernon, ohio, who died in . the second time to miss laura cantlan, of baltimore, in . william windom, a native of ohio, came to winona in . he had been admitted to practice in , and formed a partnership with d. s. norton in mount vernon, ohio, who came with him to winona, where they continued their law partnership. mr. windom has been quite prominent in the politics of the state and county, having served in the united states senate two terms, from to . he was also a representative in congress from to . he served as secretary of the treasury to fill a vacancy. during his congressional career he was an ardent supporter of the union, and won the respect of the nation for his unswerving firmness in upholding his principles. he is a man of great executive ability, and has used his talents and his wealth, of which he has accumulated a considerable share, in the interests of the public. he has been heavily interested in the building of the northern pacific and other railroads, and in real estate. his opportunities have been great, he has wisely employed them, and richly deserves the success he has achieved. charles h. berry, the first attorney general of the state of minnesota, was born at westerly, rhode island, sept. , . he received an excellent school and academic education, graduating at canandaigua academy in . he afterward read law and was admitted to practice at rochester in . he practiced his profession at corning, new york, until , when he removed to winona and opened the first law office in that city. he was associated until with c. n. waterman. when minnesota became a state, in , he was elected attorney general and served two years. he was state senator in - and has been united states commissioner since . he takes great interest in local and state affairs, especially in educational matters. he has been for many years connected with the city school board and for eight years its president. he was also largely instrumental in locating the state normal school at winona. mr. berry is a democrat in politics, is prominent in masonic circles and a leading member of the episcopal church. he was married to frances e. hubbell, of corning, new york, nov. , . they have one daughter, kate louise, married to prof. c. a. morey, principal of the state normal school. thomas wilson was born in tyrone county, ireland, may , . he received his education in this country, graduating at meadville college, pennsylvania, in . he studied law, was admitted to the bar in , and in the same year came to winona and entered the law firm of sargent & wilson, known a few years later as sargent, wilson & windom. he was a member of the republican wing of the constitutional convention in . he was elected district judge of the fourth district, taking his seat in , and serving six years. in gov. miller appointed him to a vacancy on the supreme bench, caused by the resignation of judge flandrau, and in the fall of the same year he was elected chief justice for a term of seven years. in he resigned this position to resume his law practice. in he was elected as a representative, and from to , inclusive, as a senator in the state legislature. he was elected as a representative to congress in . thomas simpson is of scotch parentage, but was born in yorkshire, england, may , . he came to america with his parents when a child, to dubuque county, iowa. his educational advantages were good, and he learned, when not in school, to assist his father, who was a miner, smelter and farmer. he studied engineering and surveying with e. s. norris, of dubuque, and was engaged in government surveys from to , when he settled in winona, studied law, and was admitted to the bar in , when he formed a law partnership with judge abner lewis and geo. p. wilson. in addition to his law business he has been a heavy dealer in real estate and money loaning. there are few public enterprises in winona which he has not actively promoted. he was a delegate to the national convention that nominated lincoln for the presidency in , also to the convention that nominated grant in . he served as state senator in - . he has been an influential member of the methodist church. he was married oct. , , to maggie holstein, of lewisburg, pennsylvania. they have three sons. wm. h. yale was born nov. , , at new hartford, connecticut; was educated at sheffield institute; came to winona in , and practiced law. he was state senator in - , - , and lieutenant governor from to . other prominent citizens of winona are: dr. james monroe cole, the oldest physician in the city; royal day cone, one of the first merchants; judge wm. mitchell; ---- norton, a lumberman and county treasurer several years; w. w. phelps, first president of the state normal school; ---- hough, builder of the first large hotel; hodgins, yeomans & laird, lumbermen. chapter xxiii. miscellaneous biographies. pierre bottineau was born in the red river settlement, now dakota, in . his early life was passed amongst the ojibways in the employ of various fur companies. he has lived an eventful life and endured many hardships as a hunter, trapper and guide. he was early noted as a pilot to and from the selkirk settlement. in he removed his family from selkirk to st. paul. in he removed to st. anthony falls, east side, where he laid out an addition to the new village. he was also, in , the first settler at maple grove, or "bottineau's prairie," in hennepin county. when he came to fort snelling he was employed by gen. sibley as a guide. in he assisted in selecting locations for forts. in , after the establishment of fort abercrombie, he located the village of breckenridge, now in wilkin county, minnesota. in he accompanied geologist skinner in his exploring expedition, having for its object the survey and location of salt mines, and was guide to col. w. h. noble's wagon road expedition to frazer river. in he accompanied a military expedition with gov. ramsey to conclude treaties with the northern minnesota chippewas. in he accompanied capt. fisk's idaho expedition, and, in , gen. sibley's expedition to the missouri. mr. bottineau now resides at red lake falls, polk county, minnesota. andrew g. chatfield, a member of the minnesota district bench at the time of his death, was born in the town of butternuts, otsego county, new york, jan. , . in he was a member of the new york assembly; in he removed to racine, wisconsin, where he was elected county judge. in he was appointed associate justice of the supreme court of minnesota territory, and he made his home on a beautiful prairie in scott county, on which he laid out the town of belle plaine. he acted as judge four years and then resumed the practice of law. in january, , he was elected judge of the eighth judicial district, which he held until his death, which occurred oct. , . judge chatfield was married in . his widow and an only daughter, mrs. cecilia irwin, reside at belle plaine. hazen mooers.--biographical details of mr. mooers are scant and unreliable. he was probably born about the year . it is said that he was in the battle of plattsburgh, september, , when he was a youth of eighteen years of age, and that he acted as a guard in protecting government and private property. we find by the minnesota historical collections that he came to gray cloud island in and remained till . it is probable that he remained there till . he was commissioner of st. croix county, wisconsin, in - and . when he came to gray cloud island he was accompanied by a mr. robinson, and located in section . while at gray cloud he was married to a daughter of dickson, the trader, and sister of mrs. joseph r. brown. we have been unable to find mention of him later than . john mcdonough berry was born at pittsfield, new hampshire, sept. , . mr. berry received an excellent education at the pittsfield academy, phillips academy and at yale college, from which he graduated in . he was a member of the phi beta kappa society. he was in the law office of ira paley, later chief justice of new hampshire. in he was admitted to the bar at concord, new hampshire. he commenced practice at alton corners, belknap county, new hampshire. three years later he came west and located at janesville, wisconsin. in he moved to faribault, this state, and at once came into prominence. in he was a member of the territorial house of representatives and chairman of the judiciary committee. in he was sent to the state senate from rice county, and in he was elected associate justice of the state supreme court, a position he has filled with honor to himself and the bar. he removed to minneapolis in and died there, greatly lamented, nov. , . an obituary notice from the daily press gives a fair estimate of his character: "he was not a man that mingled much in society or put himself forward on any occasion, yet he had a very social, genial disposition, and every one that knew him valued the acquaintance highly. as a judge he was universally esteemed. his decisions were always marked by a peculiarly vigorous grasp of bottom facts. his mind was a naturally judicial one. his own ideas were fresh and original, and his way of expressing them unusually vigorous. he devoted himself wholly to his judicial duties and to his family. he was a great reader and student and a great home man. his affections were wholly centred in his wife and children. his distaste for ostentation and publicity is evidenced in his expressed wish for a private funeral." he was married may , , to alice a. parker, of roscoe, illinois, who survives him. mark h. dunnell is of scotch descent. he was born july , , at buxton, maine. he was raised on a farm, but graduated at waterville college, maine, in , and for three years following was engaged in teaching. in he was elected to the maine house of representatives, and afterward served five years as state superintendent of schools. he studied law, was admitted to the bar in , and in practiced his profession in portland. in he was appointed united states consul to vera cruz, mexico. before going to mexico he was appointed colonel of the fifth maine volunteers, and participated in the first battle of bull run. he resigned his consulship in , and returned to maine, where he aided the governor in recruiting and organizing regiments for the military service. in he came to winona, minnesota, was a member of the minnesota house of representatives in , and afterward served three years as state superintendent of instruction. he resigned this office to take a seat in congress, and represented his district a period of ten years. he was married nov. , , to sarah a. parrington, of goshen, maine. they have three children living. james heaton baker, son of rev. henry baker, a methodist preacher, and hannah (heaton) baker, was born in monroe, ohio, may , . he graduated at ohio wesleyan university in . in he purchased the sciota _gazette_, at chillicothe, ohio. in he was elected secretary of state on the ticket headed by salmon p. chase as governor. in he removed to minnesota, where, for two successive terms he was elected to the same office. at the outbreak of the civil war he resigned, and accepted a colonel's commission in the tenth minnesota volunteers. in his command was ordered to the south, and he was detached and made provost marshal of st. louis, and subsequently of the department of missouri, in which position he served until the close of the war, he being meanwhile promoted to a brevet brigadier generalship. at the close of the war he was appointed register of the land office at booneville, missouri, but in two years resigned and returned to his farm in blue earth county, minnesota. in president grant appointed him commissioner of pensions, a position for which he was singularly well fitted. he resigned in , and was appointed by president grant surveyor general of minnesota. gen. baker has been prominent in masonic circles, and has contributed much to the newspaper and periodical press. he was married sept. , , to rose r., daughter of reuben h. thurston, then of delaware, ohio, now of mankato, minnesota. this estimable lady died at washington city, march , , leaving two sons, arthur and harry e. gen. baker, since his appointment as surveyor general, has resided at mankato. he served in and as railroad commissioner for the state. horace burton strait is of virginia revolutionary stock. he was born in potter county, pennsylvania, jan. , . his educational advantages were such only as the common schools afforded, and he is largely self cultured. he came to minnesota in , and engaged in farming near shakopee, but in moved to the county seat, and engaged in mercantile business. in august, , he enlisted in company i, ninth minnesota volunteers, commanded by col. alexander wilkin; was commissioned as captain, and in as major; was mustered out at the close of the war, since which time he has been engaged in milling, banking and farming. he was president of the first national bank of shakopee. he served as mayor of shakopee in - - , when he was elected to congress, and served by continuous re-elections until , when j. l. madonald became his successor. he was emphatically a working member. he has been twice married. his first wife died in , leaving one child. judson wade bishop was born at evansville, new york, june , . he received an academic education at fredonia academy, and at union academy, belleville, new york. leaving school at the age of sixteen, he was employed for several years as clerk and book-keeper and in teaching. having a taste for civil engineering he fitted himself for usefulness in that department at the rensselaer polytechnic institute of troy, new york, and in secured a position as draughtsman on the canadian grand trunk railway. at the completion of the road, in , he obtained employment in railroad surveying, making his residence at chatfield until , where he purchased a newspaper, the chatfield _democrat_. at the first call for troops in he sold his office, volunteered as a soldier, and was mustered in as captain of a company in the second regiment, june , . he was mustered out at the close of the war with the brevet rank of brigadier general, and resumed railroad work, in which he has since been active and conspicuous. for some years he was manager of the st. paul & sioux city. his connection with railroad enterprises necessitated his removal in to le sueur, in to mankato and in to st. paul, which has since been his home. he has also been a heavy dealer in real estate. he was married jan. , , to nellie s. husted, of galena, illinois, who died sept. , , leaving three sons, charles husted, edwin judson and robert haven. john louis mcdonald.--the paternal ancestors of our subject were highlanders, of the clan "mcdonald of the isle." john louis was born in glasgow, scotland, feb. , ; came with his parents to america in , lived a few years in nova scotia, then removed to pittsburgh where he received an academic education. he removed to belle plaine, scott county, minnesota, in , read law with judge chatfield, and was admitted to practice at shakopee in , removing thither three years later, and continuing in practice, serving as probate judge from to and publishing and editing the belle plaine _enquirer_, and later, the shakopee _argus_, serving two years as prosecuting attorney, four years as superintendent of schools, two years as state representative ( - ) and three years as state senator ( - and ). in he was elected district judge, and served seven years. in he took his seat as representative in congress. as a judge he is thoroughly well informed, clear-sighted and impartial. thomas h. armstrong was born in milan, ohio, feb. , . he graduated from western reserve college in , commenced the practice of law at la crosse, wisconsin, in , practiced at high forest, minnesota, until , when he discontinued practice. three years later he moved to albert lea, minnesota, and established the freeborn county bank. mr. armstrong has acted a prominent part in the legislation of the state, having been a representative in the legislatures of and , and, as lieutenant governor, president of the senate for the four succeeding terms. he was elected speaker of the house in the legislature of . as a presiding officer he was courteous, dignified, and fair in his rulings, and an excellent parliamentarian. april , , he was married to mrs. elisabeth m. butman, daughter of john burgess, of cleveland, ohio. augustas armstrong, a younger brother of the foregoing, and a prominent citizen of albert lea, died in . moses k. armstrong, another brother, has represented dakota in congress. james b. wakefield was born at winstead, litchfield county, connecticut, march , . he graduated at trinity college, hartford, in ; studied law, and was admitted to practice in ; came to shakopee, minnesota; practiced law two years and removed to blue earth city. he has been called to fill various and responsible public positions. he was a member of the legislature several terms, serving as representative in , and , and as senator in - - . he served as deputy indian agent at the lower sioux agency from to the indian outbreak, and in was appointed receiver of the winnebago land office, which position he held six years. from to he served as lieutenant governor of minnesota, and from to as member of congress. he served as a delegate to the republican convention which nominated president grant in , and to the convention which nominated president hayes in . mr. wakefield was married in august, , to miss nannette reinhart, of blue earth city. william wallace braden was born in iberia, ohio, dec. , . he was educated in the district schools and reared as a farmer. in november he came to fillmore county with his father, and engaged in farming. he was a member of the legislature in - , and has served three terms as county treasurer. during the civil war he served three years with the rank of lieutenant, and then of captain in company k, sixth minnesota volunteers, and was for some time detached from his command as provost marshal of southern missouri, with headquarters at springfield. capt. braden is prominent as a mason, and as a republican takes an active interest in the politics of the state and nation. he was elected state auditor in , and re-elected in . he was married march , , to addie griswold, of pennsylvania. reuben butters was born in union, lincoln county, maine, may , . he received such education as could be obtained at winter schools, and employed himself chiefly in clerking and mercantile pursuits until , when he came to minnesota and became the first permanent settler in the minnesota valley above shakopee. he made the first claim at le sueur, having, in connection with messrs. thompson and lindsey, a station at that place, also at kasota. he has been engaged chiefly in farming. he has also a stone quarry and store in kasota, and does a fair amount of trading. mr. butters was a member of the first state legislature, and has served seven or eight sessions since. he was county commissioner many years. in politics he is a democrat. mr. butters has been twice married, first in november, , to elizabeth hill, of cleveland, ohio, and second in may, , to mrs. mary e. rogers, of maine. he died march , . michael doran, a most successful business man and prominent in political affairs, having served six terms in the state senate, was born in the county of meath, ireland, nov. , . he received but little education before coming to this country in , when, although over twenty-one years of age, he obtained two years' schooling. he landed in new york city, remained in the state about a year and removed to norwalk, ohio, where he farmed and kept a grocery store. in he came westward and located at le sueur, where he engaged in farming. in he was elected county treasurer and served and held the office eight years. since he has been engaged in banking, farming and real estate operations. he is also one of the owners of the elevator and flouring mill at le sueur. in politics he is a democrat and was an elector on the mcclellan ticket. his senatorial terms were from to and and . he has been twice married. his first wife was ellen brady, of norwalk, ohio, married in may, . his second wife was catherine j. grady, of le sueur, married feb. , . andrew mccrea was born in new brunswick in , received a common school education and learned the business of farming and lumbering. his father having died early, the support of a mother and crippled brother devolved upon him. he was married to jane murphy, in new brunswick, when he was twenty-one years of age. mrs. mccrea died in . he married a second wife in . his family consists of eight sons and one daughter. he came to minnesota in , removed to stearns county in , and to otter tail county in , where he now resides in the town of perham. he was a member of the legislature of - , and of the senate of to , inclusive. in he was appointed one of the commissioners to locate the second state prison. john w. blake was born in foxcroft, maine, in . his parents moved to wisconsin in . he received a good education in the common schools, in milton academy, and wisconsin state university, and became a civil engineer. he served as a soldier during the war of the rebellion. in he came to minnesota, located at marshall, lyon county, and the same year was elected a representative in the legislature. he was a member of the senate during the years , , , and . knute nelson, born in norway, came to america, studied law at wisconsin university, and was admitted to the bar. he came to alexandria in , where he practiced law. he was a senator in the seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth legislatures, and was elected representative to congress from the fifth minnesota district in and . mr. nelson is a man of unquestioned ability and force, a strong republican, and an enthusiastic advocate of a modified tariff. w. r. denny was born at keene, new hampshire, in ; received an academic education, and after spending eight years in wisconsin, came to carver, minnesota, in . he served in the state legislatures of , , , and . he was appointed united states marshal from to . he was grand master of the masonic fraternity in - . he was married in wisconsin in , and has a family of four children. [illustration: present home of the author erected by him a.d. .] appendix. miscellaneous incidents, items and statistics, including an accurate account of the various treaties between the united states government and the indian tribes inhabiting the territories of wisconsin and minnesota. brief history of the northwest territory until the creation of wisconsin territory in . spanish claims. the spaniards have made persistent claims to territory lying along the atlantic coast, the shores of the gulf of mexico, and up the valley of the mississippi, basing their claims on discovery and conquest. in juan ponce de leon, a companion of columbus, discovered florida, and planted on its shores the standard of spain. in hernando de soto visited florida and having strengthened the spanish claim adventured west to the mississippi, on which river he died and in which he was stealthily buried by his surviving followers, who returned to florida broken and dispirited with the loss of half their number. by virtue of de soto's discovery of the mississippi, the spaniards now laid claim to the land along that river and its tributaries. they also claimed land lying along the atlantic coast, without limit, northward. this large and somewhat indefinite empire was by them styled florida, after the name of the peninsula on which they gained their first foothold. unable to defend or enforce their claims, they gradually relinquished them, giving up tract after tract, until the peninsula of florida alone remained to them. this was ceded to the united states in . the government of the territory was vested in the discoverers. ponce de leon was governor from until . de soto was governor of florida and cuba until . melendez, by compact with king philip, succeeded him, his commission giving him a life tenure. the history of the spanish possessions is by no means interesting, and illustrates chiefly the spanish greed for gold. french claims. the french early disputed the claims of the spaniards and portuguese to the possession of the new world, and accordingly in sent a florentine, jean verrazzani, who explored the coast from carolina to nova scotia, took possession of it, and called it new france. ten years later cartea continued the work, sailing around new foundland and ascending the st. lawrence as far as the site of montreal. in a french colony located in florida, but were almost immediately exterminated by the spaniards. during the following century the french pushed their explorations to the regions of the mississippi and the great lakes. in the year champlain was engaged in the exploration of the st. lawrence, and in , he, with two other frenchmen, explored lake champlain and the country of the iroquois and took possession of it in the name of henry iv of france. in and he explored lake huron, entered saginaw bay, passed down detroit river, exploring lake erie, and laid the foundation of french sovereignty in the valley of the st. lawrence. champlain for many years prosecuted the fur trade where boston now stands, prior to the landing of the pilgrims at plymouth rock. we have not space for a complete account of the conflicting claims of the french and english, but will give the boundaries of new france as defined by french and english authorities at different times: --l' escartot, in his "histoire de la nouvelle france," defines the french boundaries as extending "on the west to the pacific ocean, on the south to the spanish west indies, on the east to the north atlantic, and on the north to the frozen sea." --baron la honton says, "all the world knows that canada reaches from the th to the th degrees of north latitude and from the th to the th degrees of longitude." [more accurately from about to degrees west, or from cape race to the mississippi.] the french government persistently denied the right of the english to any territory west of the alleghanies. the great northwest, therefore, was for a long time under french rule and influence. we must accord to france the credit of making the first progress in civil government in the northwest. they made many permanent settlements and by a wise and pacific policy so conciliating the indian tribes that they were able to hold their positions on the frontier at will. they were early and persistent explorers, and, under the guidance of pious and devoted jesuit missionaries, planted settlements in the most desirable places. they made a cordon of posts reaching from louisiana to the gulf of st. lawrence, along the mississippi and ohio rivers, and along the chain of the great lakes, completely surrounded the english colonies and disputed with them the possession of the country. the french-english war of to failed to decide satisfactorily the question of the interior domain. in new france was divided into two provinces, that of canada and that of louisiana, the dividing line being the ohio, mississippi and missouri rivers, the mississippi boundary line extending from the mouth of the ohio to the mouth of the missouri river. mobile was made the capital of the southern province. the patent or commission of the new province was issued to crozat, marquis du chatel. the illinois country was afterward added, and it seems probable that the country east of the wabash was also included in it. all north of the boundary named formed part of the province of canada. other boundaries than these have been given by geographers, but these boundaries are sufficiently established by official documents. in all of the territory claimed by france lying east of the mississippi river was ceded to the english, the territory lying west to spain. virginia, by three royal charters, given in , and , by the english government, held a part of the northwest territory, and in established three counties north of the ohio river, named ohio, youghiogheny and monongahela, but in ceded this territory to the united states. its settlement was somewhat impeded by the perils of the wilderness, not the least of which was the doubtful and often unfriendly attitude of the indians, resulting in many cases from the changes in the tenure of the lands, and the influence of french or english emissaries, generally hostile to american claims. the history of these early settlements is replete with thrilling adventures. the first settlement made in the newly ceded territory was at marietta, ohio, in , under the supervision of gen. rufus putnam, nephew of gen. israel putnam, and first surveyor general of the northwest territory. the settlement was named marietta, in honor of queen marie antoinette, who had been a firm friend to the colonies during the revolutionary struggle. gen. arthur st. clair was appointed governor july , , of the newly organized ohio territory. the country claimed by virginia under the royal charters included the land lying between the sea shore on the east, and the mississippi on the west, the ohio river on the south, and the british possessions on the north. it will be seen, therefore, that that part of the northwest territory lying immediately along the eastern banks of the mississippi now comprised in the state of wisconsin and part of minnesota, has been successively claimed by spain, france, england, virginia, and the united states, and under the territorial governments of the northwest--ohio, indiana, illinois, michigan and wisconsin territories. that part of minnesota lying west of the mississippi belonged to the french by right of discovery, but passed into the hands of spain, thence back again into the hands of france, by whom, with the territory known as louisiana, it was sold to the united states in . the original grant to virginia included far more than the area of the state and that of the northwest territory, but was subsequently reduced by grants made by states lying north of virginia, and vexatious disputes arose as to titles, a circumstance calculated to retard rapid settlement. we append the following data concerning the early history of the territory included in the present states of wisconsin and minnesota, tabulated for more convenient reference: . jean nicollet ventured into wisconsin, and explored the country from lake michigan for a considerable distance down the wisconsin river. . two fur traders penetrated to lake superior and wintered there, probably on wisconsin soil. . rev. m. menard with eight companions came to la pointe, lake superior. . claude allouez, an eminent pioneer missionary, succeeded menard, and re-established the mission at la pointe. . father allouez established a mission on the shores of green bay, locating it at depere in . . father allouez made a voyage of the fox and wisconsin rivers to within a short distance of the mississippi--a near approach to the discovery of the father of waters. . in this year the french took formal possession of the whole northwest, confirmed in . . louis joliet, accompanied by father james marquette, discovered the mississippi river. . father marquette coasted lake michigan, from green bay, by milwaukee, to the site of the present city of chicago. . the griffin, a schooner built by la salle, and the first to make a voyage of the lakes above niagara, arrived at the mouth of green bay. capt. duluth held a council, and concluded a peace with the natives of lake superior. . about the first of may father louis hennepin arrived at mille lacs, as prisoner of a dakotah war party, who captured him at lake pepin, while on his way up the mississippi. he remained at mille lacs several months. on his return homeward, after being released, he discovered the falls, which he named for his patron saint, anthony of padua. his book, published after his return to europe, is the first printed account of minnesota. . le sueur made a voyage of the fog and wisconsin rivers to the mississippi. . nicholas perrot first planted the cross and arms of france on the soil of minnesota, and first laid formal claim to the country for france. he built a fort on lake pepin, near lake city. . le sueur built a fort on isle pelee, in the mississippi, below prescott. . le sueur established fort l'huillier, on the blue earth river (near the mouth of the le sueur), and first supplied the sioux with firearms. . le louvigny's battle with the fox indians at butte des morts. . francis renalt explored the upper mississippi with two hundred miners. . previous to this date a french fort had been established at green bay, on the present site of fort howard. . the french established a fort on lake pepin, with sieur de lapperriere as commandant. a trading post, called fort beauharnois, was established on the north side of lake pepin. . there was a great flood in the mississippi, and fort beauharnois was submerged. a french expedition, under de lignery, from mackinaw, punished the foxes. . a battle took place between the french, and the sacs and foxes. . sieur marin, in command at green bay, made a peace with the indians. . capt. balfour and lieut. gorrell, with english troops, took possession of green bay. . the english, under lieut. gorrell, abandoned green bay in consequence of the indian war under pontiac. treaty of paris, by which all the territory of new france, including wisconsin, was surrendered to the english. about this date the canadian-french trading establishment at green bay ripened into a permanent settlement, the first upon any portion of the territory now forming the state of wisconsin. by the treaty of versailles, france ceded minnesota east of the mississippi to england, and west of it to spain. . capt. jonathan carver visited st. anthony falls and minnesota river. he pretended to have made a treaty with the indians the following spring, in a cave near st. paul, known for several years as carver's cave. he also reports a town of three hundred inhabitants at prairie du chien. . a civil government was established over canada and the northwest, by the celebrated "quebec act." . indians from wisconsin join the british against the americans. . julian dubuque explored the lead region of the upper mississippi. . there was an indian council at green bay. permission to work the lead mines was given to dubuque. . lawrence barth built a cabin at the portage of the fog and wisconsin rivers, and engaged in the carrying trade. . french settlement commenced at milwaukee. . the western posts were surrendered by the english to the united states, and the ordinance of extended over the northwest. - . the northwestern fur company established itself in minnesota. . indiana territory organized, including wisconsin. . antoine barth settled at the portage of the fog and wisconsin rivers. . indian treaty at st. louis; southern wisconsin purchased. . michigan territory organized. . thomas nuttall, the botanist, explored wisconsin. illinois territory was organized, including nearly all the present state of wisconsin. . indians assembled at green bay to join the english. . gov. clark took possession of prairie du chien. prairie du chien surrendered to the british. . united states trading post established at green bay. . indian treaty confirming that of . united states troops took possession of prairie du chien, and commenced the erection of fort crawford. col. miller commenced the erection of fort howard, at green bay. . state of illinois was organized; wisconsin attached to michigan. brown, crawford and michillimackinac counties were organized by the territory of michigan which embraced in their boundaries, besides other territory, the whole of the present state of wisconsin. . united states commissioners adjusted land claims at green bay. . the new york indians purchase lands east of lake winnebago. james johnson obtained from the indians the right to dig for lead by negro slaves from kentucky. . january. counties of brown, crawford and michillimackinac made a separate judicial district by congress. first steamboat on the upper mississippi, with maj. taliafero and count beltrami. lieut. bayfield, of the british navy, makes a survey of lake superior. . first term of united states court held at green bay, judge duane doty presiding. . great flood on the red river of the north; a part of the colony driven to minnesota, and settle near fort snelling. . first steamboat on lake michigan. . rush of speculators to lead mines. treaty with menomonies at butte des morts. . fort winnebago built. indian treaty at green bay. lead ore discovered at mineral point and at dodgeville. . black hawk war. schoolcraft explored sources of mississippi river. first mission established at leech lake, by rev. w. t. boutwell, now of stillwater. . the portion of minnesota west of the mississippi attached to michigan. gen. h. h. sibley settles at mendota. . catlin and featherstonhaugh visit minnesota. . the territory of wisconsin organized. nicollet visits minnesota. . gov. dodge, of wisconsin, made a treaty at fort snelling, with the ojibways, by which the latter ceded lands on the st. croix and its tributaries; a treaty was also effected at washington with a deputation of dakotahs for their lands east of the mississippi. these treaties led the way to the first actual settlements in the territory. . the treaty ratified by congress. frank steele makes a claim at st. anthony falls. pierre parrant makes a claim and builds a shanty on the present site of st. paul. . sioux and chippewa battle fought near stillwater. . st. croix county established. the chapel of "st. paul" built and consecrated, giving the name to the capital of the state of minnesota. . stillwater settled. . august th, the wisconsin enabling act passed. . the wisconsin constitutional convention meets. the town of st. paul surveyed, platted and recorded in the st. croix county register of deeds' office. first improvement of the water power at falls of st. anthony. treaty with the chippewas at fond du lac, august d. treaty with the pillagers at leech lake, august st. . may th, wisconsin admitted. august th, the "stillwater convention" held, to take measures for a separate territorial organization. october th, h. h. sibley elected delegate to congress. . great flood on the mississippi. minnesota river navigated by steamboats. census of minnesota shows population of , . . permanent location of the capital of minnesota at st paul. treaty of the traverse des sioux, opening territory west of the mississippi to settlement july d. treaty at mendota with the sioux august th. . president pierce appoints willis a. gorman governor of minnesota. . real estate mania commenced. treaty with the chippewas at la pointe, september th. . treaty at washington, district of columbia, with the chippewas, and cession of lands in minnesota, february d. . enabling act to admit minnesota passed congress. president buchanan appoints gen. sam medary governor of minnesota. ink-pa-dootah massacre in april. minnesota constitutional convention met in june. constitution adopted in october. . minnesota admitted as a state. state loan of $ , guaranteed. the $ , , loan bill adopted. . hard times. work on the land grant road ceases. collapse of the $ , , scheme. first export of grain this fall. . federal census, , . . april th. president's proclamation for troops received. the first regiment recruits at once. june d it embarks at fort snelling for the seat of war. . call for , men. august th, massacre at acton; th, outbreak at lower sioux agency; th, new ulm attacked; th, fort ridgely attacked; th, second attack on new ulm; th, fort abercrombie besieged; september st, the bloody affair at birch coolie; th, first railroad in minnesota in operation between st. paul and minneapolis; d, battle of wood lake; th, captives surrendered at camp release; military commission tries indians for murder, rape, etc.; condemned to die; december th, hanged at mankato. . gen. sibley's expedition to the missouri river. july d, little crow killed; th, battle of big mound; th, battle of dead buffalo lake; th, battle of stony lake. treaty at crossing of red lake river with chippewas, and cession of dakotah lands, october d. . large levies for troops. expedition to missouri river under sully. inflation of money market. occasional indian raids. . peace returns. minnesota regiments return and are disbanded; in all , troops furnished by the state. census shows , inhabitants. - . rapid railroad building everywhere, immigration heavy, "good times" prevail, and real estate inflated. . january th, th and th, polar wave sweeps over the state; seventy persons perish. september, the jay cooke failure creates another panic. grasshopper raid begins and continues five seasons. . september th, armed outlaws from missouri attack a northfield bank. three killed, three prisoners. . minnesota legislature adopts biennial sessions. . may d, three flouring mills at minneapolis explode; eighteen lives lost. . november th, hospital for the insane at st. peter partly destroyed by fire; twenty-five lives lost. . march , capitol at st. paul destroyed by fire. . cyclone destroys sauk rapids. wisconsin legislature adopts biennial sessions. the boundary question. the question of the western boundary of wisconsin had been agitated since the martin bill for the organization of the state had been introduced in . this bill established the present boundary. the majority of the people residing in the valley of the st. croix were opposed to it on the ground that the interests of the valley on both sides were identical, and that it was not proper that the two sides should be separated by a state line. the question became a political one, and at the election of delegates for the constitutional convention of oct. , , wm. holcombe was elected over joseph bowron, as representing the sentiments of the people of the valley as opposed to the proposed boundary line. in convention mr. holcombe advocated a boundary line commencing at mount trempeleau on the mississippi, running due north to lake superior. failing in this, he advocated a boundary line to be established at a point fifteen miles due east of the most easterly point on lake st. croix, said line extending from that point due south to the mississippi and due north to the tributary waters of lake superior. in this he was successful, and the constitution in which this boundary line was thus fixed went to the people and was rejected, greatly to the disappointment of the people of the st. croix valley, who felt that they had been unjustly dealt with. there seems, indeed, to be but little excuse for the attitude of the majority of the citizens of wisconsin with regard to this boundary. certainly but little attention was shown to the interests of the people in the western section of the territory. prior to the meeting of the second constitutional convention, dec. , , public meetings were held at st. croix falls and in stillwater, at which latter place enthusiastic resolutions were passed remonstrating against this unnatural boundary, which resolutions were signed by nearly all the citizens of the st. croix valley, and a few in and around st. paul, asking the convention to establish the western boundary on a line running due north from the foot of lake pepin to lake superior. george w. brownell was elected from the st. croix district to the second convention, with instructions to work for this boundary. joseph bowron, brownell's opponent, was defeated by a large majority. the following is the abstract of votes: bowron. brownell. willow river (now hudson) lake st. croix stillwater st. paul marine mills ... st. croix falls clam river apple river wood lake rush lake osceola (no election) --- --- totals mr. brownell made strong and persistent efforts to have the boundary line adjusted in accordance with the sentiments of the people of the valley, but in vain. morgan l. martin, delegate to congress from wisconsin territory, had framed the bill establishing the present boundary, and it was urged that any effort to change the line would tend to prevent the immediate admission of the state, and it was thought a political necessity that the state should be admitted at once, that it might take part in the ensuing presidential election. under such pressure the convention made haste to adopt, and the people to accept, a constitution with boundary lines that should never have been made. the state was admitted in time to cast its electoral vote for gen. zachary taylor and millard fillmore. at a meeting held by the people of the st. croix valley, subsequent to this convention and prior to its adoption by the people, the following resolutions were passed, and we append them as expressing very generally the sentiments of the people of the valley: whereas, by the establishment of the st. croix river as a part of the boundary line between the state and territory of wisconsin, the inhabitants of our remote settlements are greatly aggrieved, our local rights and privileges neglected and abridged, our geographical, material and natural political alliance with our neighbors of the new territory will be cut off; and whereas, our oft repeated remonstrances and appeals to the authorities of the new state have been unavailing; therefore _resolved_, that the establishment of the st. croix river as a part of the boundary of the state of wisconsin, against the will of the inhabitants of the valley of said river, is unjust, unreasonable and contrary to the principles upon which our government is founded. _resolved_, that in establishing the present boundary, our known and acknowledged wishes and interests are invaded by the might of a majority; that as the boundary is now established, so great is the distance and obstacles intervening, severing us, together with the people of lake superior, from the seat of government, that we can not enjoy a prompt and equitable share in representation, and we would respectfully admonish our brethren that equal representation involves a principle which is deeply and peculiarly american. _resolved_, that the interests of the inhabitants of st. croix, being identical from the nature of the staple business of the country, the river being the natural centre to which all the business of the valley tends, a boundary severing the natural ties in connection is uncalled for, inconvenient and vexatious. _resolved_, that the inhabitants of the territory of the whole northwest are deeply interested in procuring a just and wise alteration of the present line of divisions, because from the geography of the country, the line as now established, we are robbed of a future star in the galaxy of the american sisterhood of states. _resolved_, that we pledge ourselves to stand united and unceasingly use all honorable means in our power to procure the establishment of a boundary east of st. croix valley. _resolved_, that a committee of three be appointed to prepare and forward a memorial to the present legislature on this subject. the resolutions as a whole were unanimously adopted. in accordance with the last resolution the chair appointed wm. r. marshall, g. w. brownell and w. h. c. folsom, esqs., a committee. on motion the secretary was instructed to forward copies of the proceedings of the meeting to the prairie du chien _patriot_, galena _gazette_ and wisconsin _argus_, requesting their publication. h. h. perkins, _chairman_. r. v. d. smith, _secretary_. no attention was paid to the action of the public meeting. it is possible that none was expected. it was some satisfaction to the people of the valley to give such an expression of their opinion of the wrong done them. the admission of wisconsin with the st. croix as a boundary line left the country immediately west of that river virtually without law. nevertheless, wisconsin territorial laws were acknowledged west of the st. croix and were generally considered binding until a new territorial government should be organized. the territorial governor, gen. henry dodge, had been elected united states senator and therefore could not claim jurisdiction over this part of the territory lying beyond state limits. john catlin, territorial secretary, held that the territorial government still existed in the part of the original territory excluded. at a public meeting held in stillwater, aug. , (a preliminary meeting having been held august th, at which an understanding was effected with mr. catlin and he invited to exercise authority as a territorial officer), steps were taken for the organization of a new territory, and mr. catlin, having removed to stillwater, issued a proclamation in his official capacity, ordering an election to be held for the selection of a delegate to congress. to facilitate this movement john h. tweedy, territorial delegate from wisconsin, resigned. the election was held oct. , , and h. h. sibley was elected as a successor to john h. tweedy, his papers being certified by john catlin, secretary of wisconsin territory. mr. sibley proceeded to washington, presented his credentials and patiently awaited recognition, which was not very speedily accorded, there being considerable discussion as to the right of excluded territory to continued political existence. his admission, on the fifteenth of january, as a delegate, settled the question and established a precedent that the creation of a state government does not deprive portions of the territory not included within state limits of the right to existence and representation. mr. sibley ably presented the claims of his constituents and with great difficulty succeeded in procuring the passage of a bill organizing the new territory of minnesota. with all respect to the action of congress in receiving mr. sibley as a legally elected delegate (and, under the circumstances, the action seems wise), the question still rises: "had we a legal territorial government?" if we had, what was the necessity for a new organization? why could not the excluded territory continue under the old _regime_, or inherit, so to speak, the old government machinery? if we had no legal existence, by what authority could mr. sibley represent us? the wisconsin territorial government had ceased to exist. ours had not begun to live. the territory of minnesota was created by act of congress, march , , a little over thirty days after the introduction of the bill creating it. there had been some discussion as to the name. in the bill presented by morgan l. martin it was named minnesota. senator stephen a. douglas, chairman of the committee on territories, recommended the passage of the bill, and that the new territory be named itasca. when the bill was before the house the names chippewa, jackson and washington were proposed, but the name in the original bill was adopted. it is a compound word, taken from the sioux language, and has for its meaning "land of sky-tinted water." the news of the passage of the bill reached stillwater april th, and was received with great rejoicing. the united states land office which had been established at st. croix falls in was removed to stillwater july , . abraham van voorhes was appointed register and william holcombe receiver. indian treaties. sept. , , at the mouth of st. peter's river (now mendota) with the sioux. (for account of this treaty see "gen. pike and the indians.") july , , at st. peter (now mendota), wisconsin territory, the chippewa indians ceded to the united states the following tract of country: beginning at the junction of the crow wing and mississippi rivers, between twenty and thirty miles, above where the mississippi is crossed by the forty-sixth parallel of north latitude, and running thence to the north point of lake st. croix, one of the sources of the st. croix river; thence to and along the dividing ridge between the waters of lake superior and those of the mississippi, to the sources of the ochasua-sepe, a tributary of the chippewa river; thence to a point on the chippewa river twenty miles below the outlet of lake de flambeau; thence to the junction of the wisconsin and pelican rivers; thence on an east course twenty-five miles; thence southerly on a course parallel with that of the wisconsin river to the line dividing the territories of the chippewas and the menomonies; thence to the plover portage; thence along the southern boundary of the chippewa country to the commencement of the boundary line dividing it from that of the sioux, half a day's march below the falls on the chippewa river; thence with said boundary line to the month of the waw-tab[f] river, at its junction with the mississippi; and thence up the mississippi to the place of beginning. henry dodge, _commissioner_. sept. , , at washington, district of columbia, the sioux nation of indians ceded to the united states all their lands east of the mississippi river, and all of their islands in the said river, joel r. poinsett, secretary of war, commanding, which cession embraced all their land east of the mississippi and west of the following lines commencing at the chippewa river, half a day's march below the falls, from thence to red cedar river, immediately below the falls; thence to the st. croix river at a point called the standing cedar, about a day's paddle in a canoe, above the lake at the mouth of that river; thence passing between two lakes called by the chippewas, "green, lakes," and by the sioux, "the lakes they bury the eagles in," thence to the standing cedar, that "the sioux split;" thence to rum river, crossing at the mouth of a small creek called choking creek, a long day's march from the mississippi; thence to a point of woods that project into the prairie, half a day's march from the mississippi; thence in a straight line to the mouth of the first river which enters the mississippi at the east side above the mouth of sac river (watab river). the above boundary line was established between the sioux and chippewa indiana at prairie du chien, aug. , . william clark, lewis cass, _commissioners_. st. paul, east minneapolis and stillwater are embraced within the above limits. nov. , , at washington, district of columbia, with the winnebagoes. the winnebagoes at this treaty ceded all their lands lying east of the mississippi river, and received in return $ , . of this amount $ , was reserved to satisfy the claims of indian traders, and the remaining $ , was paid to certain individuals of the tribe. there was set apart the further sum of $ , , to be paid, by order of the president of the united states, to mixed blood relatives of these indiana. simon cameron, of pennsylvania, and james murray, of maryland, were commissioned to adjust claims, pay debts and partition the amount alloted to the mixed bloods. the winnebagoes, including mixed blood relatives, numbered over , souls. the payments and adjustments were made at prairie du chien, october, . soon after complaints were made of the arbitrary and unjust distribution of these funds. the secretary of war, joel r. poinsett, countermanded the action of the commissioners and appointed judge fleming, of new york, to act as commissioner. the parties were reassembled at prairie du chien in september, , and the unpleasant business was in some way adjusted and closed up. aug. , , at fond du lac of lake superior, the chippewa indians of the mississippi and lake superior ceded to the united states the country beginning at the junction of the crow wing and mississippi rivers, thence up the crow wing river to the junction of that river with the long prairie river; thence up the long prairie river to the boundary line between the sioux and chippewa indians; thence southerly along said boundary line to a lake at the head of long prairie river; thence in a direct line to the sources of the (waw-tab) river; thence down that river to its junction with the mississippi river; thence up the mississippi river to the place of beginning. issac a. verplanck, henry m. rice, _commissioners_. aug. , , at leech lake, the pillager band of chippewa indians ceded to the united states the country beginning at the south end of otter tail lake; thence southerly on the boundary line between the sioux and chippewa indians to long prairie river; thence up said river to crow wing river; thence up crow wing river to leaf river; thence up leaf river to its head; thence in a direct line to the place of beginning. issac a. verplanck, henry m. rice, _commissioners_. july , , at traverse des sioux (now st. peter), the see-see-toan and wah-pay-toan bands of dakotah or sioux indians ceded to the united states all their lands in the state of iowa; and the territory of minnesota, lying east of a line beginning at the junction of the buffalo river and the red river of the north; thence along the western bank of said river to the mouth of the sioux wood river; thence along the western bank of said sioux wood river to lake traverse; thence along the western shore of said lake to the northern extremity thereof; thence in a direct line to the junction of kampeska lake with the tchan-kas-an-data or sioux river; thence along the western bank of said river to its point of intersection with the northern line of the state of iowa, including all the islands in said rivers and lake. luke lea, commissioner of indian affairs, alexander ramsey, governor and _ex-officio_ superintendent of indian affairs, _commissioners_. a small reservation was set apart for said indians, which they forfeited by their attack upon the whites in . aug. , , at mendota, the med-ay-wa-kan-toan and wah-pay-koo-tay bands of dakotah and sioux indians ceded to the united states all of their lands in the territory of minnesota and state of iowa. luke lea, alexander ramsey, _commissioners_. the two treaties made by commissioners lea and ramsey included the following area: beginning at the junction of buffalo river with the red river of the north, in clay county; thence along the western bank of the red river of the north to the mouth of sioux wood river; thence along the western bank of sioux wood river to lake traverse; thence along its western shore to its southern extremity; thence to the head of sioux river; thence along said sioux river to the northern line of the state of iowa; thence along the southern boundary of the state of minnesota to the mississippi river; thence up said river to the mouth of waw-tab river (just north of st. cloud in stearns county); thence up that river to its head; thence to the place of beginning. a part of the state of iowa not included in the above was also ceded to the united states. a large strip of dakota territory is included. this last tract includes nearly one-half of the state of minnesota, containing its now richest and most populous counties. sept. , , at la pointe, lake superior, wisconsin, the chippewas of lake superior ceded to the united states all of their lands lying east of a line beginning at a point where the east branch of snake river crosses the southern boundary line of the chippewa country, running thence up the said branch to its source; thence nearly north in a straight line to the mouth of east savannah river; thence up the st. louis river to the mouth of east swan river; thence up the east swan river to its source; thence in a straight line to the most westerly bend of vermillion river, and thence down the vermillion river to its mouth. henry c. gilbert, david b. herriman, _commissioners_. the foregoing treaty embraced all of the country bordering upon lake superior in the state of minnesota, including the valuable iron and other mines. the city of duluth is within the limits of the cession. owing to the efforts of henry m. rice, then in congress, the commissioners were appointed, and to his personal influence with the chippewas the treaty was made. feb. , , at washington, district of columbia, the mississippi, pillager, and lake winnibigoshish bands of chippewa indians ceded to the united states all the lands owned or claimed by them in the territory of minnesota, and included within the following boundaries, viz.: "beginning at a point where the east branch of snake river crosses the southern boundary line of the chippewa country, east of the mississippi river, as established by the treaty of july , , running thence up the said branch to its source; thence nearly north in a straight line to the mouth of east savannah river; thence up the st. louis river to the mouth of east swan river; thence up said river to its source; thence in a straight line to the most westerly bend of vermillion river; thence northwestwardly in a straight line to the first and most considerable bend in the big fork river; thence down said river to its mouth; thence down rainy lake river to the mouth of black river; thence up that river to its source; thence in a straight line to the northern extremity of turtle lake; thence in a straight line to the mouth of wild rice river; thence up the red river of the north to the mouth of buffalo river; thence in a straight line to the southwestern extremity of otter tail lake; thence through said lake to the source of leaf river; thence down said river to its junction with crow wing river; thence down crow wing river to its junction with the mississippi river; thence to the place of beginning." george w. manypenny, _commissioner_. all lands in minnesota territory east of the foregoing boundary line were ceded to the united states at la pointe, lake superior, sept. , . several reservations were set aside in each purchase for the future residence of various bands of said chippewa and pillager indians. it was by the efforts of henry m. rice, then in congress, that the indians were invited to washington, and through his personal influence that the treaty was made. several treaties were afterward made with the chippewa and pillager indians, merely changing or reducing their reservation. oct. , , at the old crossing of the red lake river, in the state of minnesota, the red lake and pembina bands of chippewa indians ceded to the united states all their right, title and interest in and to all the lands now owned and claimed by them in the state of minnesota and in the territory of dakota within the following boundaries, to wit: "beginning at the point where the international boundary between the united states and the british possessions intersects the shore of the lake of the woods; thence in a direct line southwestwardly to the head of thief river; thence down the main channel of said thief river to its mouth on the red lake river; thence in a southeasterly direction, in a direct line toward the head of wild rice river, to a point where such line would intersect the northwestern boundary of a tract ceded to the united states by a treaty concluded at washington on the twenty-second day of february, , with the mississippi, pillager and lake winnibigoshish bands of chippewa indians; thence along said boundary line of said cession to the mouth of wild rice river; thence up the main channel of the red river to the mouth of the sheyenne; thence up the main channel of the sheyenne river to poplar grove; thence in a direct line to the head of the main branch of salt river; thence in a direct line due north to the international boundary line; thence eastwardly to the place of beginning." alexander ramsey, ashley c. morrill, _commissioners_. all the lands included in the foregoing treaty east of the red river of the north are within the state of minnesota. the heretofore mentioned treaties include all the lands within the state of minnesota originally owned by indian tribes, except the red lake reservation, and for its cession a treaty was negotiated in , which to this date, april, , has not been ratified. gen. pike and the indians. gen. zebulon m. pike, united states army, was sent by the government in - on a tour of inspection, to select sites for forts, and to treat and hold councils with the various indian tribes of the upper mississippi. he met the sioux in council at the junction of the st. peter's and mississippi rivers, sept. , , and informed them that he came to purchase lands for government forts, and to tell them what the great father at washington desired them to know about his people and their government. a part of his speech we subjoin: "brothers: you old men probably know that about thirty years ago we were subject to the king of england, and governed by his laws. but he not treating us as children we refused to acknowledge him as father. after ten years of war, in which he lost , men, he acknowledged us as a free and independent nation. they knew that not many years since we received detroit, michilmackinac, and all the ports on the lakes from the english, and now but the other day, louisiana from the spanish; so that we put one foot on the sea at the east, and the other on the sea at the west, and if once children are now men; yet i think that the traders who come from canada are bad birds amongst the chippewas, and instigate them to make war on their red brothers, the sioux, in order to prevent our traders from going high up the mississippi. this i shall inquire into, and so warn those persons of their ill conduct. "brothers, i expect that you will give orders to all your young warriors to respect my flag and protection, which i may send to the chippewa chief who may come down with me in the spring; for was a dog to run to my lodge for safety, his enemy must walk over me to hurt him. "brothers, i am told that the traders have made a practice of selling rum to you. all of you in your right senses must know that this is injurious and occasions quarrels, murders, etc., amongst yourselves. for this reason your father has thought proper to prohibit the traders from selling you rum. "brothers, i now present you with some of your father's tobacco, and some other trifling things, as a memorandum of my good will, and before my departure _i will give you some liquor to clear your throats_." at this conference the sioux granted to the united states government a tract nine miles square at the mouth of the st. croix, and a similar tract at the mouth of the st. peter's, lying on both sides of the mississippi and including the falls of st. anthony. pike says: "they gave the land required, about , acres of land (equal to $ , ), and promised me a safe passage for myself and any chief i might bring down. i gave them presents to the amount of about two hundred dollars, and as soon as the council was over allowed the traders to present them with liquor which, with what i gave, was equal to sixty gallons." pike in his journeying through the territory ordered dickson and others to haul down the british flag. it is on record that the flags were hauled down, but also that they were hoisted again after pike's departure. from pike's own account of one of his inland tours he was hospitably entertained by his red brothers, as the following paragraph from his journal will show: "after making this tour we returned to the chief's lodge and found a berth provided for each of us, of good soft bear skins nicely spread, and on mine there was a large feather pillow. i must not here omit to mention an anecdote which serves to characterize more particularly their manners. this, in the eyes of the contracted moralist, would deform my hospitable host into a monster of libertinism; but by a liberal mind would be considered as arising from the hearty generosity of the wild savage. in the course of the day, observing a ring on one of my fingers, he inquired if it was gold; he was told it was the gift of one with whom i should be happy to be at that time; he seemed to think seriously, and at night told my interpreter, 'that perhaps his father (as they all called me) felt much grieved for the want of a woman; if so, he could furnish him with one.' he was answered that with us each man had but one wife, and that i considered it strictly my duty to remain faithful to her. this he thought strange (he himself having three) and replied that 'he knew some americans at his nation who had half a dozen wives during the winter.' the interpreter observed that they were men without character; but that all our great men had each but one wife. the chief acquiesced; but said he liked better to have as many as he pleased." the establishment of united states surveys in the northwest--a condensed statement from the records of the books in the surveyor general's office. on the twenty-sixth day of january, , when the american congress was in session at philadelphia, a bill was reported for establishing land offices in the northwestern territory. the bill was ably discussed and there was much variance of opinion as to the disposition of the lands to be surveyed and brought into the market. some favored a proposition to give the lands to actual settlers, and others favored selling the lands at a stipulated price, applying the proceeds to the payment of the national debt. the bill, when agreed upon, bore the following title: "an act providing for the sale of the lands of the united states in the territories northwest of the river ohio, and above the mouth of the kentucky river." the bill was approved by president washington may , . this law established the office of surveyor general with powers specifically limited. it directed him to run lines north and south according to the true meridian, to be known as range lines, and others, crossing them at right angles, to be known as township lines, the townships thus formed to consist of areas six miles square, the whole to be subdivided into sections, each a mile square, each to contain acres of land, as near as may be, and to be subdivided into quarters, containing acres, and these quarters to be further subdivided into forties. marks were to be established at the corners of every township and section. these surveys were not to conflict with indian treaty and military land warrants, or the course of navigable waters. this admirable device for surveying the public lands grew out of a correspondence between gen. rufus putnam and president washington, in , in which the former proposed the division of the public lands into townships six miles square, to be marked by township and range lines. perhaps no more convenient and acceptable plan of survey could have been devised. gen. benjamin tupper was one of a company of surveyors in that established the first lines under this new system. this survey was made in southeast ohio. the first surveyor general's office was opened at marietta, ohio, soon after the approval of the bill, and rufus putnam was appointed surveyor general. in he was removed by president jefferson and the office was located at vincennes. a year later it was removed to cincinnati, in to chillicothe, in to cincinnati, in to detroit, and in to st. paul, where it has since remained. the act for the survey of the public lands has since been modified and improved. in an act was approved providing for the marking of quarter sections on the section lines. by the same law under which the lands were subdivided and opened to the public, one section, no. , in every township was reserved from sale for the support of common schools. two townships were also set apart for the support of a university. this was the beginning of the donations of land for school and other purposes. the united states land office. the first government land office in wisconsin north of mineral point was located at st. croix falls in . township plats were received, lands advertised and offered for sale in september, covering the ground where the cities of stillwater and st. paul are now located, and adjacent country. the office was removed to stillwater in , and the land district divided by the st. croix river. the land office for the east side was located at willow river in , and there remained till , when it was removed to st. croix falls. the following are the receivers and registers: . samuel leach, receiver; charles s. whiting, register. . moses s. gibson, receiver; t. d. catlin, register. . otis hoyt, receiver; john o. henning, register. . j. d. reymert, receiver; j.b. spencer, register: . orpheus evarts, receiver; j. b. spencer, register. . benj. w. reynolds, receiver; michael field, register. . hiram calkins, receiver; michael field, register. . fayette allen, receiver; michael field, register. . joel f. nason, receiver; michael field, register. . alvah a. heald, receiver; michael field, register. . alvah h. heald, receiver; wm. m. blanding, register. the first entry in the new district, aug. , , was by w. s. hungerford. lot , sec. , and lots , , , sec. , t. , r. , where the village of st. croix now stands. the second entry was by george brownell, lot , sec. , t. , r. . the oldest record to be found in the office is the proving up by james purinton of his pre-emption, july , . the first recorded correspondence is a letter from s. leach, receiver, to geo. w. jones, surveyor general, dubuque, iowa. in june, , under the receivership of mr. reynolds, the safe in the office was blown open with powder and the contents stolen. some time afterward, in , fifty land warrants and a bunch of keys from the articles missing were thrown in at the office window. they had the appearance of having been buried in the ground. first entries. july , . james purinton, residence, st. croix falls. lot , in east fractional part sec. , t. north, r. west, and w. / of n. w. / and s. e. / of n. w. / , sec. , t. , r. , - acres; price, $ . ; cost, $ - , silver; pre-emption act, . this pre-emption is where the dam and mills have since been erected at north hudson. aug. , . samuel burkelo, orange walker and hiram berkey. lots and , west of river, sec. , t. , r. , - acres; cost $ - , / gold; pre-emption act, (marine mills). aug. , . richard freeborn. west / of n. w. / and n. e. / of n. w. / , and lot , sec. , t. , r. , st. paul; pre-emption act, . the first land offered at public auction sale was aug. , . . albert henry judd, orange walker, samuel burkelo, hiram berkey, george baldwin judd, asa parker were the purchasers of lots and , sec. , t. , r. , west of river; cost, $ - , gold. . martin mower, david b. loomis; lots and , sec. , t. , r. , west of river; cost, $ - , / gold (now arcola). . john allen; lots and , sec. , t. , r. , west of river; gold (allen's point, now south stillwater). . eleazer r. steves; lots and , sec. , t. , r. , east of river; gold, $ . ; silver, $ . ; $ - (now hudson). and . stephen harris; n. / of s. e. / and e. / of s. w. / , sec. , t. , r. . . himan w. greely; e. / of n. e. / , sec. , t. , r. , gold. and . albert n. judd; w. / of s. e. / and e. / of s. w. / , sec. , t. , r. , gold. and . louis massey; e. / of s. w. and lots and , sec. , t. , r. , silver; east of lake st. croix (now hudson). and . peter f. bouchea, lot , east of river, sec. , t. , r. and lot , sec. , t. , r. ; gold, $ - ; silver, $ --$ - . and . john o'brien; lot , sec. , t. , r. and w. / of s. w. / , sec. , t. , r. , silver and gold (now lakeland). and . albert h. judd; e. / of n. e. / , and w. / of n. w. / , sec. , t. , r. , gold. . himan w. greely; w. / of n. e. / , sec. , t. , r. , gold. the above are all the purchasers at the first sale of land in the valley at st. croix falls. sale was continued from day to day until townships to of ranges and were offered, covering the settlement of st. anthony falls, st. paul, cottage grove, and point douglas. the united states land office was moved from st. croix falls to stillwater in september, . the first public sale of lands at stillwater was oct. , . the office was held in stillwater nine years. in october, , it was moved to cambridge, isanti county; november d the first sale of lands was held at cambridge. april , , the office was burned, many valuable papers were destroyed, and many records were replaced from the archives at washington. july , , the office was moved to sunrise, and oct. , , it was moved to taylor's falls, where it is at the present time ( ). list of officers. receivers. appointed. samuel leech n. green wilcox jonathan e. mckusick william holcomb milton h. abbott william h. mower lucas k. stannard oscar roos george b. folsom peter h. stolberg e. a. umland registers. appointed. charles s. whitney abraham van voorhes a. pierce thomas e. fullerton charles g. wagner henry n. setzer granville m. stickney charles b. whiting william comer john p. owens lucas k. stannard the records do not show the date of commission of any officer; we gather the dates as near as possible from recorded correspondence. territorial government of wisconsin. governors: henry dodge, - ; james duane doty, - ; n. p. talmadge, - ; henry dodge, - . delegates to congress: george w. jones, - ; james d. doty, - ; henry dodge, - ; morgan l. martin, - ; john h. tweedy, - . chief justice: charles dunn, - . first legislature--representatives of crawford county. first session, --council: thomas p. burnett.[g] (rejected by a ruling of gov. dodge, and district left without representation.) house: james h. lockwood, james b. dallam. second session, --house: ira b. brunson, jean brunet.[h] third session, --house: ira b. brunson, jean brunet. second legislature. first session, --council: george wilson. house: alex. mcgregor.[i] second session, --council: george wilson. house: alex. mcgregor, ira b. brunson. third session, - --council: joseph brisbois. house: alex. mcgregor, ira b. brunson. fourth session, --council: charles j. learned. house: alex. mcgregor, ira b. brunson. third legislature--representatives of crawford and st. croix counties. first session, - --council: charles j. learned. house: alfred brunsou, joseph r. brown. second session, - --council: charles j. learned. house: joseph r. brown, theophilus j. lachapelle. fourth legislature. first session, - --council: theophilus la chapelle. house: john h. manahan. second session, - --council: theophilus la chapelle. house: john h. manahan. third session, --council: wiram knowlton. house: james fisher. fourth session, --council: wiram knowlton. house: james fisher. fifth legislature. first session, --council: benj. f. manahan. house: joseph w. furber. crawford, st. croix, chippewa and la pointe counties. special session, --council: benj. f. manahan. house: henry jackson. second session, --council: benj. f. manahan. house: henry jackson. first constitutional convention, oct. , --delegate from st. croix county, wm. holcombe. second constitutional convention, dec. , --delegate from st. croix county, george w. brownell. state government of wisconsin. governors: nelson dewey, - ; l. j. farwell, - ; w. a. barstow, - ; coles bashford, - ; alex. w. randall, - ; louis p. harvey, ; edward salomen, - ; james q. lewis, - ; lucius fairchild, - ; c. c. washburn, - ; wm. r. taylor, - ; harrison luddington, - ; wm. e. smith, - ; jeremiah rusk, - . united states senators. isaac p. walker, june , ; henry dodge, june , ; charles durkee, feb. , ; james r. doolittle, jan. , ; timothy o. howe, jan. , ; matt h. carpenter, jan. , ; angus cameron, feb. , ; philetus sawyer, jan. , ; john c. spooner, jan. , . united states representatives. from districts bordering on the st. croix: mason c. darling, - ; orasmus cole, - ; ben. c. eastman, - ; c. c. washburn, - ; luther hanchett, - ; walter d. mcindoe, - ; c. c. washburn, - ; jeremiah m. rusk, - ; hiram l. humphrey, - ; wm. t. price, - ; nels p. haugan, . district judges presiding in territory originally included in st. croix county: wiram knowlton, of prairie du chien, - ; district--crawford, chippewa, st. croix and la pointe counties. s. s. fuller, of hudson, - ; district--pierce, st. croix, polk, douglas, and la pointe counties. henry d. barron, of north pepin, - ; district--pierce, st. croix, polk, douglas, ashland, and bayfield counties. l. p. weatherby, of hudson, - ; district--pepin, pierce, st. croix, polk, burnett, douglas, bayfield, and ashland counties. herman l. humphrey, of hudson, - ; district--st. croix, pierce, pepin, dunn, and barron counties. solon s. clough, of hudson, - ; district--polk, burnett, douglas, ashland, and bayfield counties. r. p. bundy, of menomonie, - , re-elected until ; district--buffalo, dunn, eau claire, pepin, pierce; and st. croix counties. henry d. barron, of st. croix falls, - ; district--chippewa, barron, polk, burnett, douglas, ashland, and bayfield counties. solon s. clough, of superior, - ; district--ashland, barron, bayfield, burnett, chippewa, douglas, polk, and washburn counties. r. d. marshall, of chippewa falls, . wisconsin state legislature. representatives of territory originally included in st. croix county: first session, --senate: daniel s. fenton. assembly: w. r. marshall. (seat successfully contested by joseph bowron.) second session, --senate: james fisher. assembly: joseph bowron. third session, --senate: james fisher. assembly: john s. watrous. fourth session, --senate: henry a. wright. assembly: john o. henning. fifth session, --senate: henry a. wright. assembly: otis hoyt. sixth session, --senate: benj. allen. assembly: orrin t. maxson. seventh session, --senate: benj. allen. assembly: wm. m. torbert. eighth session, --senate: wm. t. gibson. assembly: smith r. gunn. ninth session, --senate: wm. t. gibson. assembly: almon d. gray. tenth session, --senate: wm. wilson. assembly: orin t. maxson. eleventh session, --senate: daniel mears. house: james b. gray, lucius cannon. twelfth session; --senate: daniel mears. house: moses s. gibson. mr. gibson's seat successfully contested by m. w. mccracken. thirteenth session, --senate: charles b. cox. house: asaph whittlesey. fourteenth session, --senate: charles b. cox. house: john comstock. fifteenth session, --senate: h. l. humphrey. house: george r. stuntz, james w. beardsley. mr. beardsley was elected speaker of the house. sixteenth session, --senate: n. l. humphrey. house: henry d. barron, charles b. cox. seventeenth session, --senate: austin h. young. house: henry d. barron, joseph s. elwell. eighteenth session, --senate: austin h. young. house: amos s. gray (successfully contested by a. c. stuntz). house: marcus a. fulton. nineteenth session, --senate: marcus a. fulton. house: henry d. barron, william j. copp. mr. barron elected speaker of the assembly. twentieth session, --senate: marcus a. fulton. house: henry d. barron, john d. trumbull, h. l. wadsworth. twenty-first session, --senate: wm. j. copp. house: henry d. barron, eleazer holt, marcus a. fulton. twenty-second session, --senate: wm. j. copp. house: henry d. barron, edward h. ives, charles d. parker. twenty-third session, --senate: edward h. ives. house: samuel b. dressor, oliver s. powell, charles d. parker. twenty-fourth session, --senate: edward h. ives. house: samuel s. vaughn, oliver s. powell, ruel k. fay. twenty-fifth session, --senate: joseph e. irish. house: henry d. barron, oliver s. powell, john c. spooner. twenty-sixth session, --senate: joseph e. irish. house: henry d. barron, speaker; james h. persons, david c. fulton. twenty-seventh session, --senate: henry d. barron. house: samuel s. fifield, james h. persons, harvey s. clapp. twenty-eighth session, --senate: henry d. barron, house: samuel s. fifield, thomas s. nelson, philo q. boyden. twenty-ninth session, --senate: henry d. barron. house: samuel s. fifield, speaker; christopher l. taylor, philo q. boyden. thirtieth session, --senate: samuel s. fifield. house: woodbury s. grover, ellsworth burnett, guy w. dailey. thirty-first session, --senate: dana r. bailey. house: canute anderson, charles a. hawn, james hill. thirty-second session, --senate: dana r. bailey. house: wm. j. vincent, nils p. haugen, james hill. thirty-third session, --senate: sam s. fifield. house: nils p. haugen, james hill, lars l. gunderson. thirty-fourth session, --senate: sam s. fifield. assembly: geo. d. mcdill, franklin l. gibson, merton herrick. thirty-fifth session, --senate: james hill. assembly: geo. d. mcdill, franklin l. gibson, speaker; olof a. sangestad. thirty-sixth session, --senate: james hill. assembly: canute anderson, john d. putnam, geo. d. mcdill, james johnston. thirty-seventh session, --senate: joel f. nason. assembly: hans b. warner, frank m. nye, thomas porter; charles s. taylor, j. b. thayer. (for thirty-eighth and thirty-ninth sessions see addenda.) territorial government of minnesota. governors: alexander ramsey, from june , , to may , ; willis a. gorman, from may , , to april , ; samuel medary, from april , , to may , . delegates to congress: henry h. sibley, jan. , , to march , ; henry m. rice, dec. , , to march , ; w. w. kingsbury, dec. , , to may , . chief justices: aaron goodrich, june , , to nov. , ; jerome fuller, nov. , , to dec. , ; henry z. hayner, dec. , , to april , (judge hayner never presided at a single term and gave but one decision, which was to pronounce the prohibition law unconstitutional); william h. welch, april , , to may , . associate justices: david cooper, june , , to april , ; bradly b. meeker, june , , to april , ; andrew g. chatfield, april , , to april , ; moses g. sherburne, april , , to april , ; r. r. nelson, april , , to may , ; charles e. flandrau, april , , to may , . census of the territory--august, . precincts. males. females. total. stillwater lake st. croix marine mills falls of st. croix snake river st. paul little canada and st. anthony falls crow wing and long prairie osakis rapids ----- --- ----- total , , upon the basis of this population the governor established the following legislative districts: first district: st. croix precinct, extending on the west side of the st. croix and mississippi rivers to the iowa line; second district: stillwater; third district: st. paul; fourth district: marine mills and the country north to the british possessions; fifth district: st. anthony falls; sixth district: the country east of the mississippi not embraced in the fourth district, and extending north to the british possessions; seventh district: all the territory on the west of the mississippi river not embraced in the sixth and first districts. first territorial legislature.--held sept. to nov. , . council: david olmsted, president; district no. , james s. norris; no. , samuel burkelo; no. , william h. forbes, james mcc. boal; no. , david b. loomis; no. , john rollins; no. , david olmsted, william sturgis; no. , martin mcleod. house: joseph w. furber, of cottage grove, speaker; district no. , joseph w. furber, james wells; no. , m. s. wilkinson, sylvanus trask, mahlon black; no. , benj. w. brunson, henry jackson, john j. dewey, parsons k. johnson; no. , henry n. setzer; no. , william r. marshall, william dugas; no. , jeremiah russell, allan morrison, lorenzo a. babcock, thomas a. holmes; no. , alexis bailly, gideon h. pond. the limits of this work preclude the insertion of a complete list of the entire state, and we give, therefore, the representation of the st. croix valley. second territorial legislature, . council: james norris, samuel burkelo, d. b. loomis, president. house: john a. ford, michael e. ames, speaker; jesse taylor, john d. ludden. third territorial legislature, . council: elam greely, david b. loomis. house: jesse taylor, mahlon black, martin leavitt, john d. ludden. fourth territorial legislature, . council: elam greely, david b. loomis. house: n. green wilcox, albert stimson, caleb truax, john d. ludden. fifth territorial legislature, . council: albert stimson, john e. mower. house: john fisher, wm. mckusick, robert watson, n. c. d. taylor, speaker. sixth territorial legislature, . council: albert stimson, john e. mower. house: james b. dixon, william willim, james norris, samuel register. seventh territorial legislature, . council: john d. ludden, henry n. setzer. house: james s. norris, abraham van voorhes, n. c. taylor, henry a. jackman. eighth territorial legislature, . council: john d. ludden, henry n. setzer. house: elam greely, mahlon black, joseph w. furber, speaker; l. k. stannard. the legislature of passed a prohibition law and submitted it to the people of the territory, who adopted it by a vote of for to against. this law was declared unconstitutional by judge hayner on the ground that it was unconstitutional to submit a law to the vote of the people. after rendering this decision he resigned his office. at a second appointment in the counties of washington, chisago, superior, itasca, and doty were included in the st. croix district. a special session was held in may, , to accept and make provision to use the magnificent railway land grant donated by congress. the constitutional convention of . in accordance with the enabling act of congress, passed march , , delegates were elected and met in convention at the capital on the second monday of july, . representatives from st. croix valley. washington county: wm. holcombe, james s. norris, henry n. setzer, gould t. curtis, charles e. leonard, charles j. butler, newinton gilbert, r. h. sanderson. chisago county: p. a. cedarstam, charles f. lowe, lucas k. stannard, w. h. c. folsom. the convention continued in session from july to aug. , , and although divided into two wings, accomplished considerable work, such as preparing duplicate state constitutions and redistricting the state. the st. croix valley was redistricted as follows: first district, washington county: twenty-fifth district, chisago, pine and isanti counties. governors of the state of minnesota. henry h. sibley, may , , to jan. , ; alexander ramsey, jan. , , to july , ; henry a. swift, july , , to jan. , ; stephen miller, jan. , , to jan. , ; william r. marshall, jan. , , to jan. , ; horace austin, jan. , , to jan. , ; cushman k. davis, jan. , , to jan. , ; john s. pillsbury, jan. , , to jan. , ; lucius f. hubbard, jan , , to jan. --, ; a. r. mcgill, jan. --, , to ----. supreme court chief justices. lafayette emmett, may , , to jan. , ; thomas wilson, jan. , , to july , ; james gilfillan, july , , to jan. , ; christopher g. ripley, jan. , , to april , ; s. j. r. mcmillan, april , , to march , ; james gilfillan, march, , , to ----. associate justices. charles e. flandrau, may, , , to july , ; isaac atwater, may , , to july , ; s. j. r. mcmillan, july , , to april , ; thomas wilson, july , , to jan. , ; john m. berry, jan. , , to ----; george b. young, april , , to jan. , ; f. r. e. cornell, jan , , to may , ; d. a. dickenson, june , , to ----; greenleaf clark, march , , to jan. , ; william mitchell, march , , to ----; c. e. vanderburgh, jan. , , to ----; l. w. collins, january, , to ----. united states senators from minnesota. james shields, may , , to march , ; henry m. rice, may , , to march , ; morton s. wilkinson, march , , to march , ; alexander ramsey, march , , to march , ; daniel s. norton, march , , died july , ; o. p. stearns, january --, , to march , ; william windom, march , , to march , ; s. j. r. mcmillan, dec. , , to march , ; a. j. edgerton, march , , to oct. , ; william windom, oct, , , to march , ; dwight m. sabin, march , , to march , ; c. k. davis, march , , to ----. representatives in congress. w. w. phelps, may , , to march , ; j. m. cavenaugh, may , , to march , ; william windom, dec. , , to march , ; cyrus aldrich, dec. , , to march , ; ignatius donnelly, dec. , , to march , ; m. s. wilkinson, march , , to march , ; e. m. wilson, march , , to march , ; john t. averill, march , , to march , ; m. h. dunnell, march , , to march , ; h. b. strait, dec. , , to march , ; william s. king, dec. , , to march , ; j. h. stewart, dec. , , to march , ; henry poehler, march , , to march , ; h. b. strait, march , , to march , ; w. d. washburn, march , , to march , ; milo white, march , , to march , ; j. b. wakefield, march , , to march , ; knute nelson, march , , to march , ; j. b. gilfillan, march , to march , : thomas wilson, march , , john lind, march , ; john s. mcdonald, march , ; edmund rice, march , . first state legislature, - . richard g. murphy, president; william holcombe, lieutenant governor. senate: first district--joel k. reiner. twenty-fifth district--w. h. c. folsom. house: first district--j. r. m. gaskill, george w. campbell, robert simpson. twenty-fifth district--john g. randall. second state legislature, - . senate: first district--wm. mckusick, socrates nelson. twenty-fifth district--lucas k. stannard. house: first district--e. d. watson, abraham van voorhes, orange walker. twenty-fifth district--patrick fox. third state legislature, . senate: second district--joel k. reiner. house: second district--h. l. thomas, e. d. whiting, emil munch. fourth legislature, . senate: second district--joel k. reiner. house: second district--wm. h. burt, h. l. thomas, e. d. whitney. fifth state legislature, . senate: second district--john mckusick. house: second district--samuel furber, j. b. r. mitchell, ansel smith. sixth state legislature, . senate: second district--john mckusick. house: second district--jere m. soule, r. r. henry, ansel smith. seventh state legislature, . senate: second district--john mckusick. house: second district--l. a. huntoon, ansel smith, lars j. stark. eighth state legislature, . senate: second district--john mckusick. house: second district--j. b. r. mitchell, robert watson, smith ellison. ninth state legislature, . senate: second district--w. h. c. folsom. house: second district--henry jackman, ebenezer ayres. tenth state legislature, . senate: second district--w. h. c. folsom. house: second district--j. w. furber, william lowell. eleventh state legislature, . senate: second district--james n. castle. house: second district--joseph haskell, w. h. c. folsom. twelfth state legislature, . senate: second district--james n. castle. house: second district--james s. norris, william lowell. thirteenth state legislature, . senate: second district--dwight m. sabin. house: second district--joseph haskell, lucas k. stannard. fourteenth state legislature, . senate: twenty-second district--dwight m. sabin. twenty-eighth district--jonas lindall. house: twenty-second district--ebenezer ayers, j. r. m. gaskill, h. r. murdock. twenty-eighth district--adolph munch. fifteenth state legislature, . senate: twenty-second district--dwight m. sabin. twenty-eighth district--jonas lindall. house: twenty-second district--e. w. durant, j. r. m. gaskill, james huganin. twenty-eighth district--joel g. ryder. sixteenth state legislature, . senate: twenty-second district--wm. mckusick. twenty-eighth district--l. k. burrows. house: twenty-second district--d. b. loomis, chas. eckdahl, j. a. mccloskey. twenty-eighth district--frank h. pratt. seventeenth state legislature, . senate: twenty-second district--wm. mckusick. twenty-eighth district--w. h. c. folsom. house: twenty-second district--j. w. furber, e. w. durant, j. e. mower. twenty-eighth district--lars j. stark. eighteenth state legislature, . senate: twenty-second district--ed. s. brown. twenty-eighth district--w. h. c. folsom. house: twenty-second district--a. fredericks, j. s. middleton, o. w. erickson. twenty-eighth district--w. a. brawley. nineteenth state legislature, . senate: twenty-second district--ed. s. brown. twenty-eighth district--w. h. c. folsom. house: twenty-second district--a. fredericks, a. huntoon, o. w. erickson. twentieth state legislature, . senate: twenty-second district--roscoe f. hersey. twenty-eighth district--john shaleen. house: twenty-second district--dwight m. sabin, wm. fowler, charles peterson. twenty-eighth district--f. s. christensen. twenty-first state legislature, . senate: twenty-second district--james n. castle. twenty-eighth district--john shaleen. house: twenty-second district--a. m. dodd, chas. peterson, andrew peterson. twenty-eighth district--john dean. twenty-second state legislature, . senate: twenty-second district--j. n. castle. twenty-eighth district--john shaleen. house: twenty-second district--dwight m. sabin, andrew peterson, wm. schmidt. twenty-eighth district--john dean. twenty-third state legislature, . senate: twenty-fourth district--j. n. castle. thirty-eighth district--john shaleen. house: twenty-fourth district--dwight m. sabin, c. p. gregory, a. stegman. thirty-eighth district--levi h. mckusick. twenty-fourth state legislature, . senate: twenty-fourth district--j. n. castle. thirty-eighth district--john shaleen. house: twenty-fourth district--e. w. durant, w. h. pratt, arthur stephen. thirty-eighth district--levi h. mckusick. twenty-fifth state legislature, . senate: twenty-fourth district--e. w. durant. thirty-eighth district--otto wallmark. house: twenty-fourth district--f. dornfield, r. m. anderson, c. p. gregory. thirty-eighth district--henry smith. the first legislature continued in session one hundred and forty-eight days. its most important measure was the passage of the $ , , loan bill. at the twentieth session a law was passed changing the sessions of the legislature from annual to biennial. the constitutional convention of . as a delegate to the constitutional convention of , and a member of what was styled the republican wing, the writer considers it not amiss to insert a chapter concerning that somewhat famous and farcical affair. the congress of - passed an enabling act for the formation of a state government in minnesota, providing that a constitutional convention of delegates, chosen by the people, should assemble at midday, july , , at the hall of the house of representatives at the state capitol, and adopt a constitution, subject to the ratification of the people. the territorial governor, samuel medary, ordered an election to be held on the first monday in june, , for delegates, the number to consist of one hundred and eight. the state was nearly equally divided between the republicans and democrats; still the question of politics did not enter largely into the contest, except as a question of party supremacy. the people were a unit on the question of organizing a state government under the enabling act, and in many cases there was but a single ticket in the field. it was a matter, therefore, of some surprise that there should be a separation among the delegates into opposing factions, resulting practically in the formation of two conventions, each claiming to represent the people, and each proposing a constitution. the delegates, although but were called, were numbered on the rolls of the two wings as republican and democratic, a discrepancy arising from some irregularity of enrollment, by which certain memberships were counted twice. the republican members, claiming a bare majority, took possession of the hall of the house at midnight, twelve hours before the legal time for opening the convention, the object being to obtain control of the offices and committees of the convention, a manifest advantage in the matter of deciding upon contested seats. in obedience to the call of the leaders of the party, issued the day before, the writer with other republicans repaired to the house at the appointed hour, produced his credentials as a delegate, and was conducted into the illuminated hall by hon. john w. north. the delegates were dispersed variously about the hall, some chatting together, others reading newspapers, smoking, or snoring, as here and there one had fallen asleep in his seat. occasionally a delegate nervously examined his revolver as if he anticipated some necessity for its use. the democratic delegates were elsewhere probably plotting in secret conclave to capture the hall, and perhaps it might be well enough to be prepared for the worst. thus the remainder of the night passed and the forenoon of july th. as soon as the clock struck twelve, the democratic delegates rushed tumultuously in, as if with the purpose of capturing the speaker's stand. that, however, was already occupied by the republican delegates, and the storming party was obliged to content itself with the lower steps of the stand. both parties at the moment the clock ceased striking were yelling "order" vociferously, and nominating their officers, _pro tem._ both parties effected a temporary organization, although in the uproar and confusion it was difficult to know what was done. the democratic wing adjourned at once to the senate chamber, and there effected a permanent organization. the republicans being left in the undisturbed possession of the hall, perfected their organization, and the two factions set themselves diligently to work to frame a constitution, each claiming to be the legally constituted convention, and expecting recognition as such by the people of the state and by congress. the debates in each were acrimonious. a few of the more moderate delegates in each recognized the absurdity and illegality of their position, and questioned the propriety of remaining and participating in proceedings which they could not sanction. the conventions continued their sessions inharmoniously enough. each framed a constitution, at the completion of which a joint committee was appointed to revise and harmonize the two constitutions, but the members of the committees were as belligerent as the conventions they represented. members grew angry, abusing each other with words and even blows, blood being drawn in an argument with bludgeons between hon. willis a. gorman, democratic, and hon. thomas wilson, republican. an agreement seemed impossible, when some one whose name has not found its way into history, made the happy suggestion that alternate articles of each constitution be adopted. when this was done, and the joint production of the two conventions was in presentable shape, another and almost fatal difficulty arose, as to which wing should be accorded the honor of signing officially this remarkable document. one body or the other must acknowledge the paternity of the hybrid. ingenuity amounting to genius (it is a pity that the possessor should be unknown) found a new expedient, namely, to write out two constitutions in full, exact duplicates except as to signatures, the one to be signed by democratic officers and members, and the other by republicans these two constitutions were filed in the archives of the state and one of them, which one will probably never be known, was adopted by the people oct. , . the question arises in the writer's mind as to the legality of the constitution of minnesota. have we a constitution? if so, which one? the question of legality, however, has never been raised before the proper tribunals, and it is perhaps well to leave it thus unquestioned. first minnesota state legislature, held - . under a provision of the constitution adopted oct. , , the legislature was elected and convened december d of that year, although the state had not then been admitted to the union, and gen. sam medary was still recognized as governor, though not at the time in the territory, and acting through his private secretary. the whole state, judicial and legislative ticket had been elected in october, but none of the state officers could qualify prior to the formal admission of the state. the legality of their proceedings was called in question. the republicans entered a protest against legislation until after the admission of the state, but the democratic party was in the majority, and territorial democratic officers governed the legislature, and the protest was unheeded. notwithstanding the doubtful validity of acts passed by this body, some bold and extravagant measures were proposed and passed, among them the famous $ , , loan bill, authorizing the issue of bonds to that amount, ostensibly to aid in the construction of railroads in minnesota, and to be used as a basis for banking. this bill was passed near the close of the session, which lasted ninety days, and was an amendment to the constitution to be voted on april , .[j] the result proved even worse than had been predicted by the most ardent opposers of the bill, and although adopted by an overwhelming majority, speedily fulfilled the predictions of its opponents. the state was flooded with worthless bank issues, based upon these worthless bonds. financial distress and panic ensued. a reaction followed, and in november, , the amendment to the constitution was expunged. of these bonds, $ , , had already been issued, when the section granting their issue was repealed. these the state subsequently redeemed. this bill, though afterward adopted as an amendment to the constitution by an overwhelming majority, was opposed most vigorously in both houses of the legislature, and characterized at the time as mischievous and infamous. though not present at the time of its passage, on account of sickness, the author fully committed himself as an opponent of the bill, and placed himself on record in an address to his constituents dated march th, at the senate chamber, which address was circulated extensively at the time. the views and predictions therein expressed as to the disastrous character of the bill have been amply justified and verified by subsequent events. hon. chas. f. lowe, when a member of the republican wing of the constitutional convention, had designed and prepared a seal to be used by the incoming state government. it was adopted by that wing of the convention, and mr. lowe hoped to have it formally adopted by the first state legislature. at the request of mr. lowe, it was presented by the writer, then a member of the senate, and was adopted by the senate and house with many encomiums upon its beauty and appropriateness. the design was indeed a beautiful one, and the workmanship of the seal, by buechner, of st. paul, was admirable. the design of the seal was as follows: [illustration: state seal.] a waterfall (supposed to be that of minnehaha) within a shield; this part of the device was intended to symbolize the idea of water for the amount and varied forms of which minnesota is distinguished above any other part of our country. in addition was represented the figure of an indian pointing toward the setting sun, as his course of destiny runs, with his tomahawk, bow and arrows; at his feet opposite the indian was the figure of a white man, with a sheaf of wheat and the implements of agriculture at his feet, representing to the indian that he must partake of the habits of civilized life or depart toward the setting sun. in one corner of the field appeared a distant view of lake superior, with a ship in sail. in another was a view of a river, indicating the minnesota river, running from the westward, with a steamboat ascending its stream. in rear of the shield and waterfall were three trees, which are typical of the three timbered regions, the oak on the left typifying the south and southwest portion of the state, the pine in the centre typifying the great pine regions of lake superior, upper mississippi and st. croix, and the maple on the right typifying the north and northwestern portion of the state. for a motto to accompany the words state of minnesota, a. d. , which were placed upon the upper rim of the seal, the words placed upon the lower rim of the seal were, "liberty and union, now and forever one and inseparable." the act of the legislature went to the governor, who returned it to the senate approved and signed, july , . some length of time elapsed before the appearance of the great seal as appended to official documents, and when it did appear it was very different from the one adopted, and the credit of the design was given to rev. e. d. neill by the newspapers commenting upon it. however beautiful and appropriate the design of the present great seal of the state of minnesota, there seems to be no evidence that it was ever legally adopted, and the question may well be raised as to its validity. it lies, however, in the eternal fitness of things that a state without a legal constitution should also be without a seal. at the joint convention of dec. , , hon. henry m. rice and gen. james shields, of mexican war fame, were elected senators. the republicans supported david cooper and henry d. huff. during this session the presiding officer of the senate was richard g. murphy, a somewhat eccentric character. his decisions were often diverting. when perplexing questions arose he would say gravely, "the chair can not decide more than two questions at oncet." after passing many really important measures, the legislature adjourned march , to meet june , . adjourned session. the legislature met, pursuant to adjournment, june d, the state having been admitted in the interim. lieut. gov. holcombe presided over the senate and proved an acceptable and able presiding officer. the five million amendment having been approved by the people, this legislature passed a banking law, establishing banks in various parts of the state with the five million bonds as a basis. it can do no good at this late day to raise a question as to the validity of the acts of the first state legislature, but it is due to ourselves and others who with us at the time protested against the validity of acts passed at this session, to give a few extracts from senate and house journals tending to show that a feeling of distrust was quite general. the ground of this opinion was the fact that the legislature elected as a state legislature held its first session prior to the admission of the state, and under the administration of the territorial governor, medary, through his secretary, acting in his place. the question was openly discussed, not only in the legislature but in the public press of the state. as early as dec. , , the following protest was presented in the senate: senate chamber, st. paul. we, the undersigned senators of the state of minnesota, do hereby enter and record this, our _solemn_ protest, against the recognition by this body, in any manner, directly or indirectly, of samuel medary, esquire, governor of the territory of minnesota, as the governor of the state of minnesota, or as being invested with any of the rights, authority, privileges, powers or functions of governor of said state of minnesota. and we do _solemnly_ protest against the recognition by this body, in any manner, of the claims of the said samuel medary, to exercise any of the rights, authority, privileges, powers or functions of the governor of the state of minnesota--such claim being wholly unauthorized and unwarranted by the constitution of the state of minnesota; and in violation of the expressed will of the people of the state of minnesota, and an attempted usurpation of office, at war with the fundamental principles of free government, and dangerous to the liberties of the people. d. g. norton, lewis mckune>, geo. watson, edwin m. somers, boyd phelps, j. k. reiner, h. l. thomas, james ridpath, michael cook, charles h. lindsley, e. n. bates, e. hodges, a. g. hudson, jonathan chase, w. h. c. folsom, s. s. beman, delano t. smith. on december th mr. norton offered the following resolution to the senate: "whereas, by the provisions of the constitution the executive officers of the state can not qualify until after the admission of the state by congress, and "whereas, there is no governor of the state of minnesota to whom acts may be submitted, as required by the constitution; therefore, "_resolved_, that this legislature can pass no acts which could become a law until after the admission of the state by congress, and the qualification of the governor elected by the people." the resolution was adopted and referred to the following committee: van etten, streeter, jones, norton, and folsom. the majority of the select committee reported december st, claiming that by the enabling act the people of the territory were empowered to form a state government, which they did, electing their delegates on the second monday in july, , to form a state constitution, and take necessary steps for establishment of a state government; that these delegates met at the time and place appointed, and on the twenty-ninth of august adopted a constitution which was submitted to the people and adopted by a majority of over , votes. that on the thirteenth of october, in conformity with an article (section , article ) of the constitution then adopted, the people had elected representatives to congress, governor and lieutenant governor, judges and members of both houses of the legislature, the latter to meet on the first wednesday in december at st. paul. the majority admitted that the governor elected under the act could not qualify until after the admission of the state, but claimed that the members of the legislature did not rest under the same disability, but were competent to legislate because they derived their power from the constitution itself, and had been directed to meet for that purpose on the first monday in december, and that because they were thus required to meet they were authorized to act. the people were omnipotent in the premises. they had declared that the governor should not qualify until after the admission of the state, and that the members of the legislature should meet. it was absurd to suppose this body should be called together and have no power to act. they held, moreover, that the territorial governor was empowered to act until his successor could legally qualify; that the framers of the constitution of minnesota and the people had declared that he should be continued in office until superseded by a state officer, and that the very time had been specified when he should be thus superseded, namely, on the admission of the state into the union, and therefore that samuel medary was, _de facto_ and _de jure_, governor of minnesota; that minnesota was then a state _out_ of the union, and that the acts of the first legislature would be legalized when the state was admitted. the minority report, signed by d. s. norton and w. h. c. folsom, claimed that the constitution contemplated an admission into the union as a prerequisite to the exercise of state sovereignty, in article , section , where it is enacted that "the term of each of the executive officers named in this article shall commence upon taking the oath of office, _after the state shall be admitted by congress into the union, etc._" section , same article, provides that "laws shall be passed at the first session of the legislature _after the state is admitted into the union_ to carry out the provisions of this article. "section , article , _schedule_, provides that all process which may be issued under the authority of the territory of minnesota previous to its _admission into the union of the united states_, shall be as valid as if issued in the name of the state." section , same article, provides that if the constitution shall be adopted by a vote of the people, the governor of the territory shall forward a certified copy of the same to the president of the united states, "_to be by him laid before the congress of the united states_." the minority claimed that under the first of the above cited sections there can be no qualified governor (_elected under, and according to the provisions of the constitution_) to whom "bills" _must_ be submitted before they can become laws, until _after_ "admission"--nor indeed can there be _any_ executive officers, contemplated to perform the duties of their several offices, until that time. in reference to the provisions of section , article , _schedule_, as inconsistent with that view, it was claimed that the territorial government should continue, and that its officers should exercise the sovereign powers delegated to them by the union, until, upon an admission by congress, and a surrender of sovereignty to the state, its authority should commence. it was claimed that this section ( ) of article , requiring the legislature to convene on the first wednesday of december, , was an oversight or error. after considerable debate the majority report was adopted by a party vote. a similar protest, signed by all the republican members of the house, was presented to that body. in addition to these protests there was in both branches of the legislature continuous and various protests by the minority against the exercise of legislative functions. in the house, on jan. , , mr. sheetz offered a resolution with reference to the causes of the delay in the admission of minnesota, asking that a committee of three be appointed with instructions to investigate the circumstances of this delay and report to this house upon these points: _first_--as to whose duty it was to forward to the president for submission to congress a copy of the constitution. _second_--why an incorrect or incomplete copy of said constitution was forwarded to the president. _third_--what official correspondence, if any, has passed between the governor and the acting governor in regard to this matter. on motion the resolution was adopted. mr. sheetz, from the committee appointed to communicate with the acting governor relative to the admission of the state of minnesota, submitted the following report: _to the honorable house of representatives:_ your committee appointed to inquire into the causes of the probable delay in the admission of minnesota into the union, ask leave to make the following report: your committee find that according to section of the schedule to the constitution, it is made the duty of the governor of the territory, upon the adoption of the constitution by the people, to forward a certified copy of the constitution to the president of the united states, to be by him submitted to congress. your committee have conferred with his excellency, acting gov. chase, and have ascertained from him that at or about the time of the adjournment of the constitutional conventions, there were deposited with him, as acting governor in the absence of gov. medary, two copies of the constitution as adopted by the two branches of the constitutional convention, one copy signed by _fifty-one_ members of the democratic branch of the convention, and the other signed by _fifty-three_ members of the republican branch of the convention, that the two copies were preserved by him in the same safe, side by side where they now are. your committee are further informed that a short time prior to the departure of our senators and representatives elect for washington, the governor caused to be made a transcript of the constitution as requested by the schedule and that instrument, which transcript was forwarded to the president of the united states. no record is known to your committee to exist of the time and manner of making such transcript, and your committee, in the absence of the governor and his private secretary, can not ascertain whether said transcript contained the names of the members of the two branches of the constitutional convention or not. your committee are also informed by acting gov. chase that there has been no official correspondence between the governor and himself upon this subject since the departure of the former for washington. all of which is respectfully submitted and signed. h. w. sheetz, g. l. otis, j. j. cruttenden, _committee_. land grants, railroad surveys and construction. in may, , congress gave to minnesota, then a territory, a magnificent grant of about , , acres of land, to aid in the construction of several projected trunk roads through her bounds. the roads specified were: from stillwater, by way of st. paul and st. anthony falls, to a point between the foot of big stone lake and the mouth of the sioux wood river, with a branch via st. cloud and crow wing to the navigable waters of the red river of the north; from st. paul and st. anthony via minneapolis to a convenient point of junction west of the mississippi to the southern boundary of the territory in the direction of the mouth of the big sioux river, with a branch via faribault to the north line of the state of iowa, west of range ; from winona to a point on the big sioux river south of the forty-fifth parallel of north latitude; also from la crescent via target lake, up the valley of root river, to a point of junction with the last mentioned road, east of range , every alternate section of land designated by odd numbers, for six sections in width on each side of said road and branches. it was enacted that the lands granted were to be subject to the disposal of the legislature. an extra session of the legislature was convened in june, , to accept the grant and devise means to build the road. the financial crisis of and unwise legislation in , notably the attempt to issue $ , , in bonds to aid in building the roads, served to delay the various enterprises projected, and for many years but little work was done, notwithstanding persistent effort at every state legislature to effect favorable changes in the condition of affairs. a few of the $ , , bonds were issued, but the general dissatisfaction, and feeling that they were not issued on a legal or rational basis, depreciated their value, and they were sold at a sacrifice and afterward redeemed by the state. the northern pacific railroad. the idea of a railroad from the atlantic to the pacific was openly discussed as early as , in which year dr. hartwell carver memorialized congress on the subject and promulgated his views through the press and by pamphlets. in asa whitney evolved a plan for the northern route, and awakened considerable popular enthusiasm, but by many the project was considered as a swindling scheme, or at best a visionary enterprise. mr. whitney made a preliminary survey from prairie du chien as far as the rocky mountains. mr. josiah perham, afterward the first president of the northern pacific railroad company, in projected a road from maine to puget sound, to be known as the people's pacific railway, and obtained a charter from the maine legislature, but on bringing his scheme to the attention of congress was prevailed upon by thaddeus stevens to abandon this scheme for another, agreeing to aid him in the passage of a bill for the construction of the present northern pacific route. the bill passed both houses and was signed by president lincoln, july , . the first permanent officers were: josiah perham, president; willard sear, vice president; abiel abbott, secretary; j. s. withington, treasurer. the grants of land voted by congress were accepted, and in the following year the states of wisconsin and minnesota granted right of way. not much was done until , when jay cooke & co. became financially interested in the road, and might have been successful in placing the bonds of the road upon the eastern markets but for the european war, during which time the firm of jay cooke & co. went down overburdened with railroad securities. the financial panic of which followed found the company in possession of miles of completed railroad, of which reached from duluth to bismarck, and from klamath to tacoma on puget sound; but embarrassed by want of funds the enterprise made but little headway, and in henry villard was appointed receiver, and a decree of sale obtained by which the bondholders were enabled to become the preferred stockholders. under the new arrangement and by the powerful aid of henry villard and thomas f. oakes, the public, and especially the capitalists of the country, regained faith in the enterprise, and the work was pushed steadily forward until september, , when the golden spike was driven at gold creek by henry villard. mr. villard resigned the presidency of the road in december of the same year, and robert harris succeeded him. the main line of this road extends from duluth to tacoma, a distance of nearly , miles, and the number of miles on the main and branch lines aggregates , . the magnitude of the work, the leagues of wilderness to be traversed, the mountain ranges to be crossed, the streams to be bridged, the supposed obstructions from wintry storms to be overcome, all these were of such a nature as to make the project seem impossible. it was, nevertheless, through the liberality of the government and the enthusiasm and executive ability of its managers, accomplished in a comparatively short time. the government contributed to this road a land grant of forty sections to the mile. with this liberal basis, bonds for the required amount of money were speedily furnished to build and equip the road from lake superior to the pacific coast. this road has, however, the advantage of southern roads, in that it traverses a rich agricultural and mineral region throughout almost its entire extent, passing through belts of timbered land not excelled in the quantity and quality of their production. the mineral regions are rich in gold, silver, copper, lead and coal. the country along the road is being rapidly settled, and the property in its possession, and that of those who have made improvements along its line, has increased to many hundred times its original value. the chicago, st. paul, minneapolis & omaha railroad. the wisconsin legislature in chartered a company to construct and operate this road, then called the st. croix, superior & bayfield railroad. may , , congress granted twelve sections of land to the mile to aid in building a railroad from hudson in the st. croix valley to bayfield on lake superior, with a branch to superior city. july , , this grant was increased to twenty sections per mile, with indemnity lands to make up deficiencies. these lands were ceded directly to the state. a company was created by the state legislature of wisconsin, to which were consigned the lands and franchises granted by the government for the purpose of building the road. the lands and franchises passed through several organized companies. impediments to construction arising, extension of time was asked and obtained from the united states and wisconsin governments, complications arose, delaying the construction still further, other companies claimed part of the indemnity lands, and litigation ensued. the state legislature upheld the chartered right, and appointed agents to watch the timber and protect the interests of the company. a sum amounting to $ , was collected from trespassers and at once applied to the building of the roads in . the st. paul, stillwater & taylor's falls company in had built a line of railroad from hudson to new richmond. in the st. croix, superior & bayfield company obtained possession of this line of road and continued it in the direction of superior, completing it in to superior city, bayfield, washburn, and ashland. the company have built a road from hudson by river falls to ellsworth in pierce county. the main line to lake superior passes through a rich agricultural and immense pine region. the company have constructed at washburn, on chequamegon bay, extensive docks, elevators, warehouses and shops. there are on the main line wooden bridges from to feet long, from to feet, from to feet, one of them on a branch of white river being feet high. the amount of logs and lumber carried over this road amounts ( ) to , , , feet, and , , , feet remain. there are few trips more enjoyable to the tourist than the one over this road, terminating as it does on the north, in a region attractive for its beautiful scenery, including the lovely bays of ashland, washburn and bayfield, with their picturesque shores, hills green with spruce pine and balsam, and the apostle islands, favorite haunts of summer travelers. the road is splendidly equipped and well officered. the st. paul & duluth railroad (formerly known as the lake superior & mississippi). the first land grant for minnesota was made in , for a road from st. paul to lake superior. this bill gave twenty sections per mile to the company building. while the bill was in the hands of the enrolling committee, some fraudulent changes were made in its provisions, as a consequence of which, after it had passed both houses and was in the hands of the president, it was recalled by the house of representatives, which had originated it, the fraudulent passages were pointed out, and the further consideration of the bill was indefinitely postponed. railroad enterprise received a check from which it did not recover in many years. may , , congress gave ten alternate sections on each side of lands to aid in building the lake superior & mississippi railroad. this grant was increased to twenty sections per mile, and indemnity lands were given. the state of minnesota has also given seven sections of swamp land per mile. the city of st. paul also gave a bonus of $ , in city bonds, to run twenty years, and st. louis county gave $ , in bonds for a like period. from the proceeds of these lands and bonds an excellent thoroughfare has been built and maintained. the franchises pertaining to this road changed holders many times before the road was completed. the original incorporators were mostly citizens of philadelphia who, under the name and title of the "nebraska & lake superior company," obtained their charter from the territorial legislature may , . their chartered rights were amended and their name changed to that of "lake superior & mississippi railroad company." the times for building were extended by congress and the state legislature from time to time, as asked for by the company. the road was commenced in and completed to duluth in , and the name changed to "st. paul & duluth" in . the first cost of building was $ , , . the company have in addition built branch roads from white bear to minneapolis, from white bear to stillwater, from wyoming to taylor's falls, from rush city to grantsburg, from north pacific junction to cloquet, and a branch in pine county to sandstone city. the taylor's falls & lake superior branch road received seven sections per mile of swamp lands from the state, $ , in ten per cent bonds from the town of chisago lake, $ , from the town of shafer, and $ , from the town of taylor's falls. presidents of the st. paul & duluth railroad: lyman dayton, w. l. banning, frank clark, john p. illsley, h. h. porter, james smith, jr., and wm. h. fisher. minnesota & manitoba railroad. under the land grant of a road was projected between st. paul and st. anthony falls, and completed in , the first railroad in minnesota, though others had been projected at an earlier period. this road was afterward extended to breckenridge on red river, and branches were built to st. cloud, and from st. cloud via fergus falls and crookston to the national boundary at st. vincent, and from brekenridge through dakota to the great falls in montana. subordinate branches to various points in northern minnesota, dakota and montana were also built. the roads from minneapolis to st. cloud and breckenridge were built with german capital. after the completion of the main lines a financial depression occurred, the bonds were sold at a low figure and subsequently passed into the hands of j. j. hill and others. the aggregate mileage of this road and its branches amount to , miles. it traverses a wheat growing region not surpassed on the continent. the present terminus, the great falls of missouri, is a mining centre for gold and silver. the country tributary to the road can not fail to make it one of the most important highways of commerce in the great west, and thus far the energy and ability of its managers has made it equal to the immense demands upon it. stillwater, white bear & st. paul railroad. under the grant of , a road from stillwater to st. paul was projected, the road to commence at stillwater and to proceed via st. paul and minneapolis to the western boundary of the state. the company holding the grant, through legislative action effected a change in the conditions of the grant allowing them to commence at st. paul, building west and northwest, as a result of which the road from stillwater to st. paul was not built. after ten years of inactivity upon this portion of the road, the stillwater people demanded, through their representatives in the legislature of , legislation compelling the building of the road as originally devised. at this session hon. john mckusick, not then a member of the legislature, but still an influential man, and representing public sentiment, importuned the company holding the franchises, through the president, hon. edmund rice, either to build the road or to transfer the franchises to some responsible company who would build it. hon. henry a. jackman and the writer, members of the ninth legislature, after conference with the president of the company, introduced a bill conveying the franchises from the original company to a company of st. croix valley men, to be organized forthwith, with the conditions that they at once proceed to build the road from stillwater to white bear, connecting with the st. paul & duluth at that point. a section was placed in the bill locating the railroad lands near kandiyohi lake. these lands were among the most valuable in the grant and were to inure to the new company at the completion of the road. the bill was passed and approved by the governor. the road was completed to stillwater dec. , . the legislature of transferred , acres, or one-half of the kandiyohi lands, to the st. paul, stillwater & taylor's falls railroad. the st. paul, stillwater & taylor's falls railroad. part of the lands originally granted to the stillwater, white bear & st. paul railroad were transferred by the legislature of to the st. paul, stillwater & taylor's falls railroad. the proceeds of the sale were to be applied to the construction of the above named road. the company was organized under the general laws of the state and incorporated sept. , . the route of the road defined in the articles of incorporation is between st. paul and taylor's falls by way of stillwater, passing through or near marine, with a branch road to hudson, wisconsin. length of main line from st. paul to stillwater is seventeen and fifty-four one hundredths miles. hudson branch line from stillwater junction to lake st. croix, three and one-fourth. south stillwater branch line from stillwater to south stillwater, three miles. the first train by this line reached stillwater from st. paul feb. , . the capital stock, $ , , , may be increased at pleasure. the number of shares of capital stock is , of $ each, limit of indebtedness, $ , , . that part of the road to be built from stillwater to taylor's falls up to the present date has not been completed. the wisconsin central (branch) railroad. in the wisconsin central built a branch road from chippewa falls via new richmond to st. paul, passing into ramsey county east and south of white bear. the bridge over the st. croix river about four miles above stillwater, belonging to this road, is a fine piece of workmanship, built entirely of iron and resting on solid stone piers. the total length of the structure is , feet, there being ten spans, each feet long, and a viaduct, feet long, on the wisconsin side. the track is feet above low water mark. the entire cost of the bridge was about $ , . it was damaged by a cyclone in to the amount of $ , . taylor's falls & lake superior railroad. the franchises and swamp land grant of the lake superior & mississippi railroad pertaining to the taylor's falls branch were in , by legislative enactment, transferred to the taylor's falls & lake superior company. in these franchises and lands were transferred to the minneapolis & st. louis railroad company. in the fall of the st. paul & duluth company built a branch road to centre city. in the spring of the minneapolis & st. louis company built three miles of road southward from taylor's falls, accomplishing in that distance as difficult and expensive work of its kind as had been done in the state, the grading being made through the trap rock ledges of the dalles, and along the face of the nearly perpendicular bluffs overlooking the river. in the summer of they transferred their franchises and one-half their swamp land grant to the st. paul & duluth company, by whom the road was completed from centre city to the road already built at taylor's falls, oct. , . chicago, milwaukee & st. paul railroad--river division. the river division of this road follows the west bank of the river from dubuque to hastings, passing through all the river towns. crossing the river at hastings it passes through the towns of newport, cottage grove and denmark, and the cities of st. paul and minneapolis, terminal stations. the line from st. paul to hastings was built in , by the chicago & st. paul railway company, under charter granted to the minnesota & pacific railroad company in . the present management obtained control of the line in . the bridge across the mississippi at hastings was constructed in , and was the first iron railroad bridge in the state. in respect to cost and workmanship it ranked with the important structures of the northwest. the total length of the river bridge is feet, and consists of an iron draw span feet long, two fixed spans each of feet in length, and a combination span on the north shore feet in length. the cost of the structure was $ , . in a branch line was extended from point douglas to stillwater. minneapolis, sault ste. marie & atlantic. the following memorial, introduced by the writer while a member of the state senate of , is the first public mention or suggestion of this road as far as we are aware. it was adopted by the legislature, forwarded to washington, read and duly referred to the committee on railroads: state of minnesota. nineteenth session. s.f. no. . a memorial _introduced by mr. folsom, jan. , ._ to congress for right of way and grant of land for railroad purposes. _to the senate and house of representatives of the united states in congress assembled:_ your memorialists, the legislature of the state of minnesota, respectfully represent that the rapidly increasing settlements of the northwest, the surplus agricultural products and material developments demand greater and cheaper facilities than now existing, and a more direct transit to the atlantic seaboard and european ports, and eastern products transported to the northwest. that the saving in the distance to eastern markets of three hundred miles, by a railroad route from st. paul and minneapolis to sault ste. marie, will tend to more fully develop the great wheat growing region of wisconsin, minnesota, dakota, and montana. the surplus of wheat, which forms one of the most reliable exports from our government, in shortening the distance to european markets three hundred miles will give encouragement to this great source of wealth to our whole land, and deserves aid and protection. that by reason of the facts set forth in this memorial, and many other considerations, the nearest transit makes cheap transportation and thereby develops the country and increases prosperity. to further these objects, we ask congress to donate land to aid, and the right of way through government land to build, a railroad from the cities of st. paul and minneapolis to the falls of st. marie's river. sept. , , a large mass meeting was held at st. croix falls, the object being to consider the feasibility of the "soo" route. over five hundred persons were present, among them delegates from minneapolis, st. paul, stillwater, and superior city. the subject was discussed and resolutions passed favoring the building of the road to sault ste. marie via the dalles of st. croix. not, however, till sept. , , were the articles of incorporation filed in wisconsin and minnesota by w. d. washburn and others of minneapolis, for the minneapolis, sault ste. marie & atlantic railroad company. the road was completed to the "soo" in december, . at that point it connects with a branch of the canadian pacific. the st. marie river is to be crossed on a union bridge built by the roads centring at that point. it is now under construction, and will cost when completed over a million dollars. the length of the line is about miles. the capital stock is $ , , , divided into , shares of common stock, and , shares preferred. the board of directors for the first year is composed of the following persons, all residents of minneapolis: w. d. washburn, president; h. t. welles, john martin, thomas lowry, george r. newell, anthony kelly, m. loring, clinton morrison, j. k. sidle, w. w. eastman, w. d. hale, c. a. pillsbury, and chas. j. martin. the following comparison of distance will be of interest to the people of the northwestern states: miles. miles. st. paul to chicago chicago to new york city new york to liverpool , ----- , st. paul (via sault) to montreal montreal to liverpool , ----- , ----- difference in favor of montreal route chicago, burlington & northern railroad. the chicago, burlington & northern company constructed a road from chicago to savannah, illinois, and from that point up the mississippi, along its east bank to st. paul, crossing the st. croix at prescott. the road from savannah to st. paul is two hundred and eighty-five miles in length, and was completed in . the cost complete, including rolling stock, was $ , per mile. the road was built on a grade of nine and eight-tenths feet to the mile, and its curvature nowhere exceeds three degrees in one hundred feet. the st. croix, chippewa, wisconsin, platte, grant, and fever rivers are crossed by iron bridges. mileage of roads centring in st. paul and minneapolis in . miles. manitoba , northern pacific , hastings & dakota pacific division of the minneapolis & st. louis minneapolis & pacific omaha, western division milwaukee, river division milwaukee, iowa division minneapolis & st. louis burlington & northern northwestern, omaha section minnesota & northwestern (now chicago, st. paul & kansas city) wisconsin central soo ste. marie north wisconsin st. paul & duluth ----- total , congressional appropriations for the improvement of the st. croix river. as early as , when the writer was a member of the minnesota senate, he introduced a memorial to congress for the improvement of the st. croix river, and of the mississippi at beef slough bar, below lake pepin. this was the first memorial presented on this subject. subsequent legislatures continued to memorialize congress, but it was twenty years of continuous pleading before any attention was paid to the subject. in thaddeus c. pound, representing the st. croix valley in congress, secured the first appropriation. mr. pound also secured the first appropriation for the mississippi reservoirs. the following appropriations were made from time to time: , $ , ; , $ , ; , $ , ; , $ , ; , $ , ; , $ , . this money has been expended under the supervision of maj. farquier and charles j. allen of the united states engineering corps, with headquarters at st. paul. the improvements carried out consisted in removing snags and all impediments in the channel or along shore, removing sandbars, thus deepening the channel, building wing dams, and riprapping the shores. the work has been well done, and the expenditure is a most judicious one. inland navigation. as the prosperity of a country depends, next to its natural resources, upon the avenues of communication with other countries, the people of the northwest naturally took a great interest in the improvement of their waterways. the states lying along the mississippi and its tributaries found by these streams an advantageous southern outlet for their produce. but much needed to be done in the direction of improving navigation by clearing away obstructions, deepening the channels, and affording facilities for crossing rapids. as the settlements extended toward the great lakes, it became evident that the prosperity of the country would be greatly enhanced by communication with the lakes. in the absence or scarcity of navigable streams this communication, if obtained, must be by the improvement of navigation of the upper portion of these streams having their source near the lakes and their connection by canals with the lakes or their tributaries. by this means it was thought a better route to the atlantic and to the eastern states would be afforded for grain and other products than that afforded by the mississippi. in the minnesota state legislature of a bill was introduced making an appropriation of $ , for a survey of the route connecting the waters of lake superior with those of the st. croix. this bill met with much opposition, but was finally passed, the amount having been reduced by amendment to $ , . lucas r. stannard and robert b. davis were appointed commissioners, and with the meagre amount did all that was possible to be done in surveying the route. as the author of the bill, i insert here, as a matter of history, and as a sufficient explanation of my own views and those of the friends of the measure, a synopsis of the arguments presented to the senate advocating the measure: "the route from duluth via the lakes and st. lawrence, and the atlantic to england, according to correct computation, is about six hundred miles shorter than the route via chicago and new york. the northern route is being made feasible by the improvements made by the british government on the welland canal and lachine rapids, and by the improvements made by our own government on the st. clair flats and the sault ste. marie canal, by which a depth of water is obtained sufficient to float vessels drawing twenty feet. this route to europe will be traversed in much less time than the new york route. vessels will be constructed for this inland american trade, and starting from the west end of lake superior with a cargo of grain that two weeks before was waving in the sunlight on northwestern prairies, will pass direct to europe without breaking of bulk or reshipping, while the southern route requires reshipments at buffalo and new york. figures can scarcely do justice to the vast business that will be transacted on this open route as the northern part of the united states and the adjacent british possessions are settled. "the opening of this route will tend to create new treaty stipulations and unlooked for interpretations of the old with the dominion government, and establish commercial confidence and secure trade not realized to-day. cheap transportation is the demand of the age, and this route will afford to the hundreds of millions of bushels of wheat and the commerce of central north america the desired outlet to the best markets of the world. to many these ideas may seem chimerical, but we believe that the progress of the country and the development of her commerce in the not distant future will justify them, and that predictions now regarded as fanciful will be fulfilled to the letter. "minnesota as a state is just in the age of development. she is rising to power and influence. much depends upon our legislature, more than depended upon the legislature of new york when, actuated by good counsels it connected the waters of the hudson with those of lake erie by the 'clinton ditch,' so called in derision by the enemies of the measure. but the wisdom of dewitt clinton, the originator of that famous waterway, advanced the settlement of the great west at least a quarter of a century. "minnesota in her location holds the key that will unlock the largest body of fresh water on the globe, and open to it one of the most fertile and extensive wheat growing districts on the continent, a country that will soon vie with the country around the black sea in the quantity and quality of its grain production. "shall we stand idly by whilst our neighboring states are moving to secure cheaper communications with the seaboard states? cheap transportation, the lever that moves the world, is claiming the favorable attention of congress, and men and means have been provided to ascertain the most feasible routes on which to bestow her aid for the transferring of the surplus products of the country to the markets of the east. "the reports made thus far by the national committee make no allusion to minnesota's great gateway to the east by lake superior, nor to the improvement of the sault ste. marie canal. the committee dwelt somewhat elaborately upon the project of connecting the mississippi with the lakes by means of a canal between the waters of wisconsin and fox rivers, neither of them good navigable streams. no authorized survey has ever commended this as a cheap route. only one plan can be adopted by which a thoroughfare can be made profitable to the government and to the northwest over this route, and that is to construct a ship canal along the wisconsin river from the portage to the mouth. "if the government can be prevailed upon to open up this route no one will deny that it will be of incalculable benefit to the people of wisconsin, and to those further up the valley of the mississippi. let its friends do all they can to push forward the great movement. "to minnesotians i would say, let wisconsin have much of our aid. i trust it will not take thirty-five years of the future to open up what thirty-five years of the past has projected. wisconsin alone and unassisted ought to have accomplished this great work years ago, if the work could have been accomplished as cheaply as it has been represented. "let minnesota look nearer home. the headwaters of the st. croix are nearer to lake superior than those of any other navigable stream. large mississippi boats, whenever occasion has demanded, have made their way to the dalles of the st. croix. the falls and rapids above this point for a distance of four miles have a fall of but seventy-four feet, an elevation that could be overcome by means of locks. by means of wing dams at kettle river falls, and other improvements at no very great cost, the river could be made navigable to the mouth of the namakagon. this river, though put down as a tributary, is in reality the main stream, and can be navigated to namakagon lake, which is but thirty miles from ashland, and can be connected by a canal with chequamegon bay, or with white river, a distance of only a few miles. "if we pass up the st. croix from the mouth of the namakagon river, we shall find no serious obstructions to navigation till we reach the great dam built by the lumbermen twenty miles below upper lake st. croix. the conformation here is of such a character that an inexhaustible supply of water can be held--more than three times what is held in the celebrated summit lake in ohio, which feeds the canal connecting the waters of the ohio and lake erie. it is but a mile from the former lake to the source of brule river, an affluent of lake superior, but as the waters of the brule are rapid and the channel rocky, and its outlet is on a bleak and unhospitable stretch of lake shore, destitute of any harbor, we prefer the route from the upper st. croix lake to the bay of superior, a distance of about thirty miles, a route well supplied by reservoirs of water, and with no difficult or insurmountable hills to overcome. "hon. h. m. rice, who was one of the commissioners to survey the st. marie's canal, pronounces this the most feasible and direct route for our contemplated canal. "other routes have been proposed, as from the st. croix to the nemadji and st. louis rivers, but of the feasibility of these i am not so definitely informed. "believing, gentlemen of the senate, that you are in full accord with me that this great northwest demands not only state aid in developing our natural resources, but the assistance of the general government, i recommend the proper presentation of this subject before congress by our senators and representatives until our prayers are granted for the improvement of the same." in the session of the minnesota legislature of i again introduced a memorial to congress asking for an appropriation of $ , to make a government survey of the st. croix and lake superior routes. george r. stuntz, the veteran explorer, surveyor and civil engineer, who accompanied the united states reservoir commission to the upper st. croix waters, and who had made previous scientific examinations for the purpose of forming a correct idea of the contour of the summit dividing the waters flowing north and south, and of the practicability of constructing reservoirs, and of the cost of connecting the lake superior and st. croix waters, makes the following report, which is valuable for the reliable data given: "there are evidences that in the glacial period this was the channel through which flowed a river of ice, and that subsequently for a long period a vast volume of water coursed through this channel from lake superior to and down the mississippi. the valley is everywhere of great width in proportion to the present volume of water, showing evidences of currents of great velocity fifty feet above the high water marks of the present time. these ancient banks of the river are composed of heavy drift gravel and boulders bearing the marks of the glacial action and having their origin north of lake superior. this valley extends across the height of land in township , in range west, and in the northern part of it the brule river rises and flows north into lake superior. "at the copper range in township , range west, section , a ledge of trap rock stands in the valley. in the eddy of this rock and extending to the southward or up the present stream is a well defined moraine of large boulders and gravel showing that the glacial river ran south. to the north of this point the brule river makes a straight cut to the lake through sandy red clay deposits peculiar to that region. "in this ancient valley the lowest point on the summit at the headwaters of these two streams is about feet above lake superior [lake st. croix, at stillwater, is feet higher than lake superior] and feet above lake st. croix. upper lake st. croix is feet below this summit. the st. croix river one mile above the mouth of moose river is feet below this summit. the st. croix river discharges . cubic feet of water per minute at the mouth of moose creek. the brule river discharges about . cubic feet of water per minute in the north part of township , range . the distance from taylor's falls to lake superior by the valley of the st. croix and the valley of the brule river is nearly miles. "there are several exposures of trap rock along these streams and an abundance of brown sandstone of good quality for building purposes, being easily worked. "can lake st. croix, at stillwater, be connected with lake superior by canal and slackwater navigation? yes. this question has been definitely settled by the recent examination of the united states engineers, under the direction of maj. chas. j. allen, of the sources of the st croix river, with reference to the construction of reservoirs to improve the navigation of that river and the mississippi. "by constructing a dam one mile above the mouth of moose creek, on the st. croix, of sufficient height to raise the water feet, cutting a canal feet wide, feet deep, - / miles long, across the summit, and building a dam in township , range , across the brule river, high enough to raise the water to the same height as the dam on the st. croix, and you construct a lake over thirty miles long, affording uninterrupted navigation across the summit for that distance, and utilize the waters of the st. croix and its branches and the brule, and by the capacity before given the amount of water is sufficient to pass vessels through locks feet wide, feet long, - / feet lift, at the rate of per hour, or in hours, at the dryest season of the year. this settles the question of practicability. "the whole improvement will cost less than $ , , , and by placing the lowest dam and lock at prescott so as to always hold lake st. croix at the high water mark will give two hundred miles of slackwater navigation connecting the mississippi river with lake superior, accommodating boats of large size and deep draft, propelled by steam, at the usual rates of speed used on the rivers. average cost per mile, $ , . "it would accomplish another object. the improvement of navigation on the mississippi river by a system of reservoirs on its tributaries would be most effectually accomplished by holding one or two feet of extra head upon each of the thirteen dams proposed, thus storing up during the spring freshets vastly more water than can be held in the small reservoirs on the tributaries of the st. croix. there are no very large natural reservoirs in the upper st. croix valley. "hold a three foot head on the lake as a reserve from the spring freshets and you have stored up , , cubic yards of water to be used in the dry season in august and september. continue this plan to the source and you have in the st. croix valley a continuous reservoir one hundred and fifty miles long. connect the two systems as proposed above and you have a route furnishing the cheapest transportation that can be had and at the same time obtain a system of large reservoirs to improve the navigation of the mississippi river. "this is one of the improvements that the northwest needs for its present, future and more perfect development. "the proposition and figures are given, after a series of examinations extending through a period of over twenty-five years, for the purpose of calling out investigation." the waterways convention of . public discussions of the matter in the legislature and in conventions were not entirely in vain. public attention was aroused and interest awakened in the great question of inland navigation. in the great waterways convention convened in st. paul, at the call of gov. hubbard, of minnesota. this convention was attended by over , delegates from the states of florida, louisiana, missouri, kansas, nebraska, illinois, iowa, wisconsin, and minnesota, and from the territories of dakota and montana. ex-gov. bross, of illinois, acted as temporary chairman. the permanent organization elected maj. wm. warren, of kansas city, president, gen. g. w. jones, of iowa, vice president, and platt b. walker, of minnesota, secretary. various schemes for internal improvement were brought before the convention and ably advocated, but each in the interest of a particular section. the members from florida wanted a ship canal for that state. illinois and eastern iowa advocated the hennepin canal scheme. missouri, kansas, nebraska, western iowa, dakota, and montana demanded the improvement of the missouri river. wisconsin and northern iowa the completion of the fox and wisconsin canal. minnesota and wisconsin agreed with all for the improvement of the mississippi from the falls of st. anthony to the balize, for the improvement of the sault ste. marie canal, and for the internal improvements asked for generally in the states and territories represented. the result was the passage of a series of resolutions recommending a liberal policy in the distribution of improvements, and favoring every meritorious project for the increase of facilities for water transportation, but recommending as a subject of paramount importance the immediate and permanent improvement of the mississippi and missouri rivers and their navigable tributaries. it was recommended that the depth of the mississippi be increased to six feet between cario and the falls of st. anthony. the hennepin canal was strongly indorsed, as was also the improvement of the sault ste. marie, and of the navigation of wisconsin and fox rivers, of the red river of the north, and of the chippewa, st. croix and minnesota rivers. the convention unanimously recommended as a sum proper for these improvements the appropriation of $ , , . some of the papers presented were elaborately prepared, and deserve to be placed on permanent record. the memorial of mr. e. w. durant, of stillwater, contains many valuable statistics. we quote that portion containing a statement of the resources and commerce of the valleys of the mississippi and st. croix: "the northwestern states have not had the recognition that is due to the agricultural and commercial requirements of this vast and poplous territory, whose granaries and fields not only feed the millions of this continent, but whose annual export constitutes a most important factor in the food calculation of foreign nations. during the past decade the general government has expended $ , , on the waterways of the upper mississippi. the improvements inaugurated by the general government in removing many of the serious impediments to navigation warrants the belief that still more extensive improvements should be made. it is an error to suppose that the palmy days of steamboating on western rivers has passed. in demonstration of this take the quantity of lumber sent down the mississippi. there was shipped from the st. croix river during the year to various distributing points along the mississippi river , , feet of lumber, , , of lath, , , of shingles, , , of pickets; from the chippewa river during the same period, , , feet of lumber, , , of shingles and , , of lath and pickets; from black river during the same period was shipped , , feet of lumber, , , shingles, and , , lath and pickets, aggregating , , , feet of lumber, , , of shingles and , , of lath. the tonnage of this product alone foots up over , , tons. the lumber value of raft and cargoes annually floated to market on the mississippi will not vary far from $ , , . the capital invested in steamboats, in number, used for towing purposes is $ , , ; while the saw mills, timber plants and other investments incidental to the prosecution of this branch of industry will foot up fully $ , ; while the labor and their dependences engaged in this pursuit alone will equal the population of one of our largest western states. there are sixteen bridges spanning the river between st. paul and st. louis, and it is important that some additional safeguards be thrown around these bridges to afford greater safety to river commerce." mr. durant says there has been a general cry for some time past that the days of steamboating on the northern mississippi and tributaries were over; but he thinks it will be forcibly shown in the coming convention that, if they are, the only cause for it is the extremely short and uncertain seasons for steamboating, resulting from the neglected and filled up channels. if the channels can be improved, so that steamers can be sure of five months' good running each year, he thinks they will prove to be one of the most important means of transportation in the upper mississippi valley. they will then be used for the transportation up and down stream of all heavy and slow freights in preference to railroads, on account of cheapness. it would prove a new and the greatest era in upper river steamboating. it appears from a report made at the convention, that during the year there were steamboats plying on the mississippi from st. louis to points above. two thousand seven hundred rafts from the st. croix and chippewa passed the winona bridge, and the total number of feet of logs and lumber floated down the mississippi from the st. croix, chippewa and black rivers was , , , . the total passages of steamers through the winona bridge for was , . on the st. croix, above lake st. croix, during the season of there were steamers and barges engaged in freight and passenger traffic only. the steamers made round trips between stillwater and taylor's falls, round trips between marine and st. paul, and round trips between franconia and st. paul. the following is a showing of the lumber, logs, rafting, and towing business on the st. croix during : there were steamers engaged in towing logs and lumber out of the st. croix and down the mississippi, the total number of feet handled by them being , , , board measure: the total number of feet of logs (board measure) which passed through the st. croix boom in was , , . the lumber manufacture of the st. croix during that year was valued at $ , , . resolution introduced at the waterways convention held in st. paul, september, . whereas, the north american continent is penetrated by two great water systems both of which originate upon the tablelands of minnesota, one the mississippi river and its tributaries, reaching southward from the british line to the gulf of mexico, watering the greatest body of fertile land on the globe,--the future seat of empire of the human family on earth,--the other the chain of great lakes flowing eastwardly and constituting with the st. lawrence river a great water causeway in the direct line of the flow of the world's commerce from the heart of the continent to the atlantic; and whereas, between the navigable waters of these continental dividing systems there is but a gap of ninety miles in width from taylor's falls on the st. croix, to duluth on lake superior, through a region of easily worked drift formation, with a rise of but five hundred and sixty feet to overcome, and plentifully supplied with water from the highest point of the water-shed; therefore, _resolved_. that we demand of congress the construction of a canal from taylor's falls to duluth, using the upper st. croix and the st. louis rivers as far as the same can be made navigable, the said canal to be forever free of toll or charge, and to remain a public highway for the interchange of the productions of the mississippi valley and the valley of the great lakes; and should the railway interests of the country prove powerful enough to prevent congressional action to this end, we call upon the states of the northwest to unite and build, at their own cost, such a canal, believing that the increased value of the productions of the country would speedily repay the entire outlay. early steamboat navigation. the pennsylvania was the first steamer that descended the mississippi. she came down the ohio from pittsburgh, creating the utmost terror in the minds of the simple-hearted people who had lately been rather rudely shaken by an earthquake, and supposed the noise of the coming steamer to be but the precursor of another shake. when the pennsylvania approached shawneetown, illinois, the people crowded the river shore, and in their alarm fell down upon their knees and prayed to be delivered from the muttering, roaring earthquake coming down the river, its furnaces glowing like the open portals of the nether world. many fled to the hills in utter dismay at the frightful appearance of the hitherto unknown monster, and the dismal sounds it emitted. it produced the same and even greater terror in the scant settlements of the lower mississippi. in capt. shreve commanded the gen. washington, the fastest boat that had as yet traversed the western rivers. this year the gen. washington made the trip from new orleans to louisville, kentucky, in twenty-five days. when at louisville he anchored his boat in the middle of the river and fired twenty-five guns in honor of the event, one for each day out. the population of louisville feted and honored the gallant captain for his achievement. he was crowned with flowers, and borne through the streets by the huzzaing crowd. a rich banquet was spread, and amidst the hilarity excited by the flowing bowl, the captain made an eloquent speech which was vociferously applauded. he declared that the time made by the gen. washington could never be equaled by any other boat. curiously enough, some later in the season, the tecumseh made the trip in nine days. the time made by the tecumseh was not beaten until , when the shepherdess carried away the laurels for speed. we have but little definite information as to navigation on the mississippi during the ten years subsequent to the trip of the pennsylvania. the solitude of the upper mississippi was unbroken by the advent of any steamer until the year . on the second of may in that year the virginia, a steamer feet in length, in width, with a draught of feet, left her moorings at st. louis levee for fort snelling laden with stores for the fort. she was four days passing the rock island rapids, and made but slow progress throughout. it is heedless to say that the indians were as much frightened at the appearance of the "fire canoe" as the settlers of the ohio valley had been, and made quick time escaping to the hills. judge james h. lockwood narrates (see vol. ii, wisconsin historical collections, page ) that in capt. david g. bates brought a small boat named the putnam up to prairie du chien, and took it thence to fort snelling with supplies for the troops. the steamer neville also made the voyage to prairie du chien in . the following year came the steamer mandan and in the indiana and lawrence. fletcher williams, in his history of st. paul, says that from to as many as fifteen steamers had arrived at fort snelling, and that afterward their arrivals were more frequent. during this primitive period, the steamboats had no regular time for arrival and departure at ports. a time table would have been an absurdity. "go as you please" or "go as you can," was the order of the day. passengers had rare opportunities for observation and discovery, and were frequently allowed pleasure excursions on shore while the boat was being cordelled over a rapid, was stranded on a bar, or waiting for wood to be cut and carried on board at some wooding station. sometimes they were called upon to lend a helping hand at the capstan, or to tread the gang plank to a "wood up" quickstep. when on their pleasure excursion they strayed away too far, they were recalled to the boat by the firing of a gun or the ringing of a bell. it is doubtful if in later days, with all the improvements in steamboat travel, more enjoyable voyages have been made than these free and easy excursions in the light draught boats of the decades between and , under such genial captains and officers as the harrises, atchinson, throckmorton, brasie, ward, blakeley, lodwick, munford, pim, orrin smith and others. before the government had improved navigation the rapids of rock island and des moines, and snags, rocks and sandbars elsewhere were serious obstructions. the passengers endured the necessary delays from these causes with great good nature, and the tedium of the voyage was frequently enlivened by boat races with rival steamers. these passenger boats were then liberally patronized. the cost of a trip from st. louis to st. paul was frequently reduced to ten dollars, and considering the time spent in making the trip (often as much as two or three weeks) was cheaper than board in a good hotel, while the fare on the boat could not be excelled. the boats were frequently crowded with passengers, whole families were grouped about the tables or strolling on the upper decks, with groups of travelers representing all the professions and callings, travelers for pleasure and for business, explorers, artists, and adventurers. at night the brilliantly lighted cabin would resound with music, furnished by the boat's band of sable minstrels, and trembled to the tread of the dancers as much as to the throbbing of the engine. the steamer, as the one means of communication with the distant world, as the bearer of mails, of provisions and articles of trade, was greeted at every village with eager and excited groups of people, some perhaps expecting the arrival of friends, while others were there to part with them. these were scenes to be remembered long, in fact many of the associations of river travel produced indelible impressions. in these days of rapid transit by rail more than half the delights of traveling are lost. before the settlement of the country the wildness of the scene had a peculiar charm. the majestic bluffs with their rugged escarpments of limestone stretched away in solitary grandeur on either side of the river. the perpendicular crags crowning the bluffs seemed like ruined castles, some of them with rounded turrets and battlements, some even with arched portals. along the slopes of the bluffs was a growth of sturdy oaks, in their general contour and arrangement resembling fruit trees, vast, solitary orchards in appearance, great enough to supply the world with fruit. on the slopes of the river bank might have been seen occasionally the bark wigwams of the indian, and his birch canoe gliding silently under the shadow of the elms and willows lining the shore. occasionally a deer would be seen grazing on some upland glade, or bounding away in terror at sight of the steamer. a complete history of early steamboat navigation on the upper mississippi would abound with interesting narratives and incidents; but of these, unfortunately, there is no authentic record, and we can only speak in general terms of the various companies that successively controlled the trade and travel of the river, or were rivals for the patronage of the public. during the decade of the ' s, the harrises, of galena, ran several small boats from galena to st. louis, occasionally to fort snelling, or through the difficult current of the wisconsin to fort winnebago, towing barges laden with supplies for the wisconsin pineries. capt. scribe harris' favorite boat from to was the smelter. the captain greatly delighted in her speed, decorated her gaily with evergreens, and rounding to at landings, or meeting with other boats, fired a cannon from her prow to announce her imperial presence. the smelter and other boats run by the harris family held the commerce of the river for many years. in the first daily line of steamers above st. louis was established. these boats ran independently, but on stated days, from st. louis to galena and dubuque. they were the tempest, capt. john j. smith; war eagle, capt. smith harris; prairie bird, capt. niebe wall; monona, capt. ---- bersie; st. croix, capt. ----; fortune, capt. mark atchinson. these boat owners, with others, subsequently formed a consolidated company. in a company was formed for the navigation of the mississippi above galena. the first boat in the line, the argo, commanded by russell blakeley, was placed upon the river in . the boats in this line were the argo, dr. franklin, senator, nominee, ben campbell, war eagle, and the galena. in the galena & minnesota packet company was formed by a consolidation of various interests. the company consisted of the following stockholders: o. smith, the harrises, james carter, h. corwith, b. h. campbell, d. b. morehouse, h. m. rice, h. l. dousman, h. h. sibley, and russell blakeley. the boats of the new company were the war eagle, galena, dr. franklin, nominee, and the west newton. in a new company was formed, and the dubuque boats, the itasca and key city, were added to the line. this line continued until , and the new boats, dr. franklin, no. , and the new st. paul, were added. the galena had been burned at red wing in the fall of . the following is a list of the earliest arrivals at st. paul after the opening of navigation between the years and : april , , steamer otter, capt. harris; april , , steamer otter, capt. harris; april , , steamer otter, capt. harris; march , , steamer lynx, capt. atchison; april , , steamer cora, capt. throckmorton; april , , steamer senator, capt. harris; april , , steamer highland mary, capt. atchison; april , , steamer highland mary, capt. atchison; april , , steamer nominee, capt. smith; april , , steamer nominee, capt. smith; april , , steamer west newton, capt. harris; april , , steamer nominee, capt. blakeley; april , , steamer war eagle, capt. harris; april , , steamer lady franklin, capt. lucas; may , , steamer galena, capt. laughton; march , , steamer gray eagle, capt. harris. the following list includes boats not named in the packet and company lists with date of first appearance as far as can be ascertained: virginia may , rufus putnam april , mandan neville ---- indiana lawrence may , versailles may , missouri may , frontier palmyra saint peter's rolla sciota - eclipse - josephine - fulton - red river - black rover ---- burlington ariel gypsy fayette warrior enterprise volant glancus pennsylvania knickerbocker otter highland mary gov. ramsey (above the falls) - anthony wayne - yankee - black hawk - ben accord - royal arch - uncle toby - indian queen - di vernon - osprey - lamartine - fannie harris - asia - equator the following made their appearance some time in the ' s: cora, lynx, dr. franklin, no. , and st. anthony. the northern line company organized in and placed the following steamers upon the mississippi, to run between st. louis and st. paul: the canada, capt. ward; pembina, capt. griffith; denmark, capt. gray; metropolitan, capt. rhodes; lucy may, capt. jenks; wm. l. ewing, capt. green; henry clay, capt. campbell; fred lorenz, capt. parker; northerner, capt. alvord; minnesota belle, capt. hill; northern light and york state, capt. ----. commodore w. f. davidson commenced steamboating on the upper mississippi in with the jacob traber. in he added the frank steele, and included the minnesota river in his field of operations. in he added the Æolian, favorite and winona. in he organized the la crosse & minnesota packet company, with the five above named steamers in the line. in the keokuk and northern belle were added. in the la crosse & minnesota and the northern line packet companies were consolidated under the name of the northwestern union packet company, with the following steamers: the moses mclellan, ocean wave, itasca, key city, milwaukee city, belle, war eagle, phil sheridan, s. s. merrill, alex. mitchell, city of st. paul, tom jasper, belle of la crosse, city of quincy, and john kyle. this line controlled the general trade until . there were upon the river and its tributaries during the period named the following light draught boats: the julia, mollie mohler, cutter, chippewa falls, mankato, albany, ariel, stella whipple, isaac gray, morning star, antelope, clara hine, geo. s. weeks, dexter, damsel, addie johnson, annie johnson, g. h. wilson, flora, and hudson. later navigation on the upper mississippi. the northwestern union packet company, more familiarly known as the "white collar line," from the white band painted around the upper part of the smokestacks, and the keokuk packet company, sold their steamers to the keokuk northern line packet company, which continued until , when the st. louis & st. paul packet company was organized. its boats were: the minneapolis, red wing, minnesota, dubuque, rock island, lake superior, muscatine, clinton, chas. cheever, dan hine, andy johnson, harry johnson, rob roy, lucy bertram, steven bayard, war eagle, golden eagle, gem city, white eagle, and flying eagle. steamboating on the st. croix. the steamer palmyra was the first boat to disturb the solitude of the st. croix. in june, , it passed up the st. croix lake and river as far as the dalles. the steamer ariel, the second boat, came as far as marine in . in the fall of , the steamer otter, scribe harris, commanding, landed at stillwater. the steamer otter was laden with irons and machinery for the first mill in stillwater. up to nearly every boat that ascended the mississippi also ascended the st. croix, but in later years, as larger boats were introduced, its navigation was restricted to smaller craft, and eventually to steamboats built for the special purpose of navigating the st. croix. quite a number of these were built at osceola, franconia and taylor's falls. the following is a list of boats navigating the st. croix from the year to the present time: humboldt, ; enterprise, ; pioneer, ; osceola, ; h. s. allen, ; fanny thornton, ; viola, ; dalles, ; nellie kent, ; g. b. knapp, ; minnie will, ; wyman x, ; mark bradley, ; helen mar, ; maggie reany, ; jennie hays, ; cleon, . a number of raft steamers, built at south stillwater and elsewhere, have plied the river within the last ten years. a number of barges were built at south stillwater, osceola and taylor's falls. the passenger travel on the st. croix has decreased since the completion of the railroad to taylor's falls and st. croix falls. an interesting chapter of anecdotes and incidents might be compiled, illustrating the early steamboat life on the st. croix. we find in "bond's minnesota" a notice of one of the first boats in the regular trade, which will throw some light on the subject of early travel on the river. it describes the humboldt, which made its first appearance in : "in addition, some adventurous genius on a small scale, down about oquaka, illinois, last year conceived the good idea of procuring a steamboat suitable to perform the duties of a tri-weekly packet between stillwater and taylor's falls, the extreme point of steam navigation up the st. croix. it is true he did not appear to have a very correct idea of the kind of craft the people really wanted and would well support in that trade, but such as he thought and planned he late last season, brought forth. * * indeed, the little humboldt is a great accommodation to the people of the st. croix. she stops anywhere along the river, to do any and all kinds of business that may offer, and will give passengers a longer ride, so far as _time_ is concerned, for a dollar, than any other craft we ever traveled upon. she is also, to outward appearances, a temperance boat, and carries no cooking or table utensils. she stops at the 'marine,' going and returning, to allow the people aboard to feed upon a good, substantial dinner; and the passengers are allowed, if they feel so disposed, to carry 'bars' in their side pockets and 'bricks' in their hats. a very accommodating craft is the humboldt, and a convenience that is already set down on the st. croix as one indispensable." the diamond jo line of steamers was established in . jo reynolds was president of the company and has served as such continuously to date. under his general supervision the company has been quite successful. the business has required an average of six steamers yearly. in the line consists of the boats the sidney, pittsburgh and mary morton. the st. louis & st. paul packet company, successors of the various old transportation companies, is in successful operation in , employing three steamers. there are but few transient boats now on the river. ice boats. several attempts have been made to navigate the river during the winter months by means of ice boats, but the efforts have uniformly failed. of these attempts we mention the two most notable: noman wiard, an inventor of some celebrity, made an ice boat in and placed it on the river at prairie du chien, intending to run between that point and st. paul. it was elaborately planned and elegantly finished, and resembled somewhat a palace car mounted on steel runners. it failed on account of the roughness of the ice, never making a single trip. it, however, proved somewhat remunerative as a show, and was for some time on exhibition within an inclosure at prairie du chien. martin mower, of osceola, minnesota, invented a boat to run on the ice between stillwater and taylor's falls, in the winter of - . it made several trips, carrying passengers and freight. the rough ice prevented regular trips and the project was abandoned. steamboat life-- . james w. mullen, of taylor's falls, spent much of his early and middle life on the river, and cherishes many pleasant recollections of the early days. we have been favored with a few of these, which will give the reader a vivid idea of the scenes depicted: "a. d. found me a cabin boy on the war eagle at the st. louis levee, with sign board up for stillwater and fort snelling. the levee was a wonder to behold. it was thronged with teams, policemen keeping them in rank. piles of freight were awaiting shipment. steamboats for three-quarters of a mile along the levee were discharging and receiving freight; passengers were rushing frantically to and fro; bells were ringing, and boats leaving for the cumberland, tennessee, missouri and illinois rivers; and new orleans, cincinnati, pittsburgh, keokuk, galena, stillwater, and fort snelling. "it was a delightful june day on which we pulled out from this busy scene and commenced our voyage to the far off north land, then known as wisconsin territory. capt. smith harris gave the last tap of the bell; the lines were loosened; the wheels of the war eagle revolved slowly at first, and we were soon on the broad bosom of the mississippi, heading northward in the wake and black smoke of the steamers ocean wave, tobacco plant and western belle. the luella, the alton packet, followed us closely, racing with us. all was enjoyment. we pass the steamers osprey and di vernon. at nauvoo we note the magnificent mormon temple on the high ground, and also long files of mormons going westward. we pass many fine farms, much beautiful scenery, and many growing towns, among them rock island and davenport, the latter the home of antoine le clair, a half-breed indian trader and heavyweight, tipping the beam at three hundred and fifty pounds avoirdupois. he lives there in sumptuous splendor from his profits made in trade. the villages, or tepees, of sac and fox indians are seen along the shores; their bark canoes glide silently over the waters. further on we ascend for seven miles the sluggish and narrow channel of fever river, and find ourselves at galena, the home of the harrises, river captains. "we find at the levee here the steamers falcon and st. croix, laden with lead for st. louis. back through fever river to the mississippi and past dubuque, an active, rising town; past cassville, the expected but disappointed capital city of wisconsin territory, a lovely location, its castellated hills frowning above it and its fine three story brick hotel and other buildings; past prairie du chien and fort crawford, with soldiers drilling on the green. here amable moreau, a french upper mississippi pilot, came on board. squads of indians were hanging around begging for whisky and tobacco. resuming our way, stemming the current of the river we pass other scenes, other birch canoes gliding over the waves, other tepees and indian villages along the shore. at la crosse we find a few whites and lots of indians on an unimproved prairie, with a background of high bluffs. we pass trempeleau and then winona prairie, on which we find an old indian village, dating back to unknown time. opposite the mouth of the chippewa river we pass nelson's landing with its two log warehouses and mackinaw boats loading for the chippewa river. we pass into lovely lake pepin, maiden's rock or lover's leap rising into a battlement on the right, and the famous point-no-point on the left. out of the beautiful lake again into the river, between low, forest covered islands, till we pass barn bluff or mount la grange, a bold, abrupt and isolated hill just below red wing. we passed more indian tepees, villages and burying grounds,--not that, for the dead bodies of the indians were not buried but fastened upon scaffolds and the limbs of trees, according to sioux custom. at the mouth of st. croix river we pass prescott landing, where lives the old pioneer trader philander prescott. across the st. croix, opposite prescott landing, is point douglas. some miles above point douglas we pass little crow village, a missionary station, where young indian boys ran down to the landing and greeted us with such yells as have not rung through these wilds, perhaps, for ages past. "we find st. paul to be a small village. there are a few houses on a high, almost perpendicular bluff, overlooking the river. at the base of the bluff on the river shore stands a warehouse with the sign 'choteau & valle.' we are soon at mendota and fort snelling. a squad of soldiers guard the freight over night. we have ample time in the morning to visit the post before starting down the river, and the following morning finds the prow of the war eagle resting against the stillwater landing. here capt. harris greets his friends and is warmly welcomed. so far, stillwater seemed the most active and enterprising village on the whole route. joe brown's town, dakota, lies a short distance above at the head of the lake. capt. harris on his return towed a raft comprising ten acres of logs. big joe was one of the pilots on the raft." st. croix boom company. previous to the organization of the boom company, in , the logs were floated down the st. croix and caught in side booms by individual owners, and owners of lake booms would raft them indiscriminately, regardless of log marks, but with the mark side up for the convenience of scaling. the scaling was done by some responsible party in the interest of the various owners, and balances were settled by exchanges, or if not balanced by cash or by note, to be paid out of the profits of the next year's logs. instances of fraud seldom occurred. when minnesota became a territory this system was superseded by another method of handling, assorting or delivering. the legislature established surveyor general districts, of which the st. croix valley was designated as the first. the surveyors general were elected in a joint convention of the two houses of the legislature, and the candidacy for this office, together with questions of salary, became a leading feature in the politics of the district. the surveyors general of the first district have been, robert harsy, samuel winship, charles j. gardiner, ivory mckusick, james d. mccomb, z. wilder chase, john s. proctor, and al. hospice. the law defining the duties of the surveyors general has been awarded from time to time, and the system of scaling improved till it has reached its present form, in which it meets with very general approval. in a law was passed giving to the governor the power of appointing surveyors general. the boom company was organized by the territorial legislature, feb. , , with a capital stock of $ , , with privileges of increase to $ , . the incorporators were orange walker and george b. judd, of marine; john mckusick, socrates nel son and levi churchill, of stillwater; daniel mears and william kent, of osceola; and w. h. c. folsom, of taylor's falls. fred r. bartlett was the first secretary, but was superseded by david b. loomis. the first boom was built near an island lying opposite and above osceola. the surveyor general had his office at stillwater, an arrangement that gave great satisfaction, but as the boom was not advantageously located, the channel of the river above being too narrow for the annually increasing production of logs, the company, in , obtained a new charter with power to construct booms from the head of lake st. croix to taylor's falls. the capital stock was increased to $ , with the privilege of increasing it to $ , . it was subsequently increased to $ , . the incorporators of the new company were martin mower, w. h. c. folsom, isaac staples, christopher carli and samuel burkelo. the company placed a second boom a mile and a half above stillwater. the increase of their business compelled them from time to time to build side booms and shear booms to prevent the logs from lodging against the banks or passing bayous or secondary channels, and also to keep the primary channel free from obstructions to navigation. they built firm and expensive piers, drove piling and made canals for the use of steamboats when the main channel was wanted for booming purposes. notwithstanding all this care, navigation was frequently obstructed by the accumulation of logs. litigation ensued, and heavy expenses were incurred in defending the rights of the company or paying damages. these controversies were not unattended with ill feeling. public meetings were frequently held and denunciating resolutions adopted. in one case, when navigation had been interrupted for fifty-seven days, the damages were estimated at $ , . some controversies also arose as to jurisdiction. st. croix river being the boundary line between two states, the wisconsin authorities claimed concurrent jurisdiction. the boom company was organized under minnesota law and its members were residents of minnesota. the surveyor general of the first district claimed entire jurisdiction and scaled the logs irrespective of the state in which they were cut. the action of the surveyor general had been accepted both by the original owners and purchasers of the logs. in january, , gov. hubbard, of minnesota, appointed a. l. hospes surveyor general, and the appointment creating some dissatisfaction, a lumberman's board of exchange was organized, and judson mckusick was appointed as private scaler. he proceeded, under the direction of the exchange, to scale logs that had already been scaled by hospes. when the members of the exchange proceeded to take possession of their logs and run them out into the lake, hospes commenced a series of injunction cases to prevent them from so doing. the exchange brought suit against hospes in wisconsin courts to prevent him from scaling logs owned by the exchange. the exchange also declared that mckusick was a deputy of the general surveyor of the fourth district, wisconsin. pending these suits, hospes commenced a _quo warranto_ proceeding in the minnesota supreme court to have the articles of incorporation of the exchange annulled, but was defeated on the ground that the exchange could employ a private scaler at will, but held that such scaler could not interfere with the claims of hospes, he being recognized as surveyor general. in july of the same year the claims of the conflicting parties were settled by the parties themselves, outside the courts, and the question of conflicting jurisdiction has therefore never been legally determined. it is true that some courts have passed upon the question, and appeals have been taken to higher courts. the decision of judge nelson of the supreme court has been given, a decision that the surveyor general of the first district of minnesota has a right to scale all logs in his district, yet by his own decision wisconsin has equal rights under concurrent jurisdiction. should both state authorities under their surveyors general claim jurisdiction at the same time, concurrent jurisdiction would lead to a double taxation upon log owners. it seems, however, to be an admitted principle that when suits between the same parties, in relation to the same matter, are pending at the same time in different courts of jurisdiction, a judgment in the one may act as a bar to further proceedings in the other. the question ought to be more definitely and satisfactorily settled. the language of the logs. it may not be amiss to explain somewhat in detail the system of marking adopted by the lumbermen. owners of logs must be able to identify their property or lose the reward of their labor. a system of marking each log has, therefore, become a feature of the lumbering business, and has been in existence ever since lumbering has been prosecuted. when the business was confined to a limited number of firms it was an easy matter, and one of mutual arrangement, to select the property. but firms change; from a score the number of lumber firms increased to hundreds. a record of ownership of log marks is necessary, and a law has been enacted protecting the ownership of a mark as thoroughly as a trade mark is protected. this system of marks in the process of time has become a language in itself deep and intricate to the average mind, but as plain as the alphabet to every man having to do with the manufacture of logs. it is the aim of every lumberman originating a mark to make it simple, containing as many straight lines as possible, so that it can be put on the log speedily. these marks are cut on the logs, through the bark and a few inches into the body of the timber, soon after the tree is felled, by a skilled axeman who is charged with the duty. the cut is made deeper than the bark so it will be preserved after the bark comes off. the mark is made upon the side of the log. this system of marks is a language in itself. every prominent firm has a particular character, which, in a general way, is indicative of his ownership or interest in the log. this mark may be varied by additional or supplementary characters, indicating who cut the log, on whose land it was cut, or under what particular contract it was put into the stream. some idea of the extent and variety of these marks can be formed from the statement that there is recorded in the st. croix district--only a small portion of the entire lumber region of the northwest--over , different and distinct characters. many of these are quaint and interesting, and the whole etymology curious in the extreme. in the books in the surveyor general's office these marks and figures are the only characters used except in the recording of the marks themselves and of instruments and agreements. the identity of mark and its association of ownership necessarily calls into play the utmost familiarity. to one not thoroughly familiar with the method the books are about as intelligible as the figures on the side of a chinese tea chest to the average american. once a man becomes thoroughly familiar with the marks on a river where lumbering is so extensively carried on as on the st. croix, he becomes invaluable in the surveyor general's office, or in the booms, identified in some capacity with the scaling process. the fact that some particular character runs through the varied marks of all the leading firms is a key to the readiest understanding, just as the twenty-six characters in the alphabet are necessarily understood before one can read readily or intelligently. when the logs reach the booms the marks serve as a guide in their distribution by the scaler, whose business it is to measure the logs, call out the number of feet in each log to the tallyman, who records it in a book kept for the purpose, the record, together with the mark attached, to be forwarded to the surveyor general's office, there to be posted and footed. a small army of men is engaged in bringing logs to the gap, a narrow passage admitting scarcely more than one log at a time. a catch mark is a mark representing the original mark and is so placed as to appear always upon the upper side when the log floats at rest. once through the gap, experienced men gather the logs, as they are floated downward by the current, into brills. these are subsequently gathered together in rafts, laid, as a rule, with the logs headed in the direction of the current. rafts may be transported to any distance southward by the current of the stream, and through the waters of the lake, and not infrequently the whole distance by tow boats. amount of logs cut from to . the earliest statistics in the following table are from persons operating, and the later from record books. we have given the figures in round numbers. the table includes logs cut and floated down the st. croix river and tributaries: year. feet. - , - , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , - , , chartered dams. the namakagon totogatic dam company obtained a charter in from the wisconsin legislature empowering them to construct two dams for sheering logs, one to be at the outlet of namakagon lake, the other on totogatic river, a stream tributary to namakagon river, entering that stream about eight miles above its junction with the st. croix. in , by legislative act, the charter was amended by permission to erect sixteen dams, to be built severally on the waters of the upper st. croix, moose, eau claire, namakagon, totogatic, yellow, and clam rivers. the name was changed to the "st. croix dam company," and the capital stock was fixed at $ , . the incorporators were a. m. chase, joel nason, henry d. barron, wm. kent, and s. b. dresser. a. m. chase was the first president. the company had permission under the charter to hold the water during the seasons when it was not necessary to navigation on the st. croix. these dams were usually shut down to gather a head during the months of march and april, with the exception of the dams on the namakagon and eau claire, which have the privilege of gathering and retaining a head of water during any part of the year. the head of water above these dams varied from seven to ten feet, and the average cost of construction was $ , . the tolls per , feet at these dams were as follows: namakagon and clam, and cents; at totogatic, and cents; st. croix, and cents; other dams, to cents. a. m. chase was the original mover in organizing the corporation and forwarding its interests. he was foreman in selecting sites and building the various dams. he was also owner and general agent until within the last few years, when he transferred his interests to other parties. the charter expires in . the dam on clam river, built at a cost of $ , , was, in , blown up by dynamite and destroyed by robert davidson, who claimed that the flowage interfered with his meadow lands. lumbering on the st. croix in . the progress of civilization involving the building of railways, the transformation of the wilderness into cultivated fields, the growth of villages and cities, the increased facilities for manufacturing and the bringing the forest domain under law, has created such changes in the business of lumbering as to justify the insertion of a chapter relating to the life and surroundings of the early lumberman. let us go back to the year . the country, save a few sparse settlements on the navigable streams, is as yet an unbroken wilderness, and tenanted only by wild beasts and roving indians. there are vast regions, densely wooded, in which the sound of the woodman's axe has never been heard, lying about the headwaters of the chippewa, st. croix and other streams. these pineries can only be reached by stemming the currents of the minor streams in bateaux or birch bark canoes, or by traversing the country on foot or with teams. parties operating must purchase their outfit, consisting of teams, supplies of flour, pork, etc., in illinois or missouri. sometimes they drive their teams through unsettled country, without roads, swimming and fording streams, clearing away obstructions, and camping where night overtakes them. sometimes they ship their supplies by steamer to stillwater or st. croix falls. when landed at stillwater the supplies are packed upon flatboats and poled to taylor's falls, where they are to be portaged to the head of the rapids, a distance of six miles, and transferred to bateaux. the portage is a difficult one. the goods are to be hoisted up over the rocks of the dalles and placed upon sleds calculated to run upon the bare ground. considering the inequalities of the surface from the dalles to the head of the rapids, the portage is an immensely difficult one. they are then taken to their place of destination, the bateaux returning to the falls for successive loads, the whole transfer requiring considerable time. sometimes, if late in the season, part or whole of the fleet of bateaux may be caught in the ice, in which case a bushed road must be made, and the supplies transported by teams and men. arriving on the ground, the operators blaze trees on lines surrounding the region which they wish to work during the winter. these claims are generally respected by others. the first work to be done is making a camp, building stables, clearing streams of obstructions, and making roads. incidentally the indians, certain to be visitors at the camps, are to be propitiated with presents of flour, pork and tobacco. these pacified and out of the way, the lumberman may say with alexander selkirk-- "i am monarch of all i survey; my right there is none to dispute." trespassing is unknown. the lumberman is not conscious that he himself is a trespasser on the domain of uncle sam. nor is he. has he not the best title in the world? who is there to dispute it? no government agent ever troubles him, or questions his right to fell the royal trees and dispose of them as he may choose. he is earning by his strong right arm his title to the trees. he endures much, accomplishes much and is the advance courier of civilization. he spends long months away from the common haunts of men. he is cut off from the mails and from home pleasure. he lives an industrious life. cold is the day when the stroke of his axe is not heard. the snow deepens around him, the temperature sinks lower and lower, till it would not discredit labrador; still he toils on unceasingly, and at night builds high his blazing fire, wraps himself up in his buffalo robe and blankets, and sleeps through the night the sleep of the tired and the just. meanwhile his appetite is marvelous. the cooking (done by one of the crew) maybe of the rudest, and the provisions none of the daintiest, but exercise and the cold gives a relish to the food not often found in the fashionable restaurants. the members of the crew have each allotted duties. to one is intrusted the cooking department, to another the position of teamster, to another that of sled tender; some are choppers, some are swampers, some are sawyers. the records of the camp are kept by the foreman or some person detailed for that purpose. the winter over, the teams are returned to the settlements. the log driving crew succeeds the choppers and other workers. the logs, having been hauled upon the ice of the driving streams, with the melting of snow are afloat on the swollen streams, and the drivers commence their work, following the logs in their downward course to the mills or booms, dislodging them when they are driven upon shore, and breaking jams when they occur. this work is difficult and attended by considerable exposure, as the driver is often obliged to go into the stream. it therefore commands higher wages than other work. the drivers are without tents, but a wangan, or small flat boat, containing bedding, provisions and a cooking kit, is floated down the stream so as to be convenient at night. the wangan is managed by the cook alone, and his work, when he ties up for the night, is to take ashore the bedding, cooking material, etc., build a fire and provide a meal for the hungry crew. his cooking utensils are of the rudest kind, consisting of a tin reflector and a few iron pots and pans. the savory repast is scarce finished before the arrival of the crew, cold, wet, tired, and hungry. they are not particular about a table with its furniture, but are satisfied to eat from a tin plate, sitting or lying on the ground. hunger satisfied, they spend their evenings by the blazing fire, drying their clothing, jesting, story telling, or recalling the events of the day, or scanning the open or clouded sky for indications of weather changes. when the sky is clear they trace the constellations, locate the principal stars and planets, or follow the devious windings of the milky way. some of them have studied astronomy, and some have learned from others, and all are intent, though without books or teachers, on learning the wisdom that nature teaches, and some are found who have learned to look "from nature up to nature's god." occasionally some rougher specimen mars the order and pleasantness of this wild-wood converse by an oath or coarse remark, heard, perhaps, but unheeded by the more serious and thoughtful. such men are found everywhere, in the streets, saloons, and even in the wilderness, men who pollute the air in which they move with profanity and obscenity. these are not the men who succeed and build up great fortunes; these are not the true conquerors of the wilderness. the sober, thoughtful man is the man who succeeds. it is not necessary that he have the learning acquired from books, or a smattering of science from the schools. he may acquire great knowledge by close study of men, and observation of the phenomena of nature, and so make himself a peer of the book worm and scholar of the library and schools. the acquaintances formed in these camp scenes and toils often result in life long friendships, and the scenes of camp, river and forest become cherished reminiscences to the actors, who are as fond of recalling them as veteran soldiers are of recounting the hairbreadth escapes and stirring incidents of campaign life. the drive ends with the delivery of the logs at the booms and mills, the men are paid off and devote themselves for the remainder of the summer to other work. lumbering on the st. croix in . the st. croix lumberman, after the lapse of nearly fifty years, is still a picturesque figure, clad, as he is, in coarse, strong woolen garments, these of brilliant red, yellow, blue and green, or in some cases as variegated as joseph's coat of many colors. he is usually a man of stalwart frame, which is set off to advantage by his close fitting garments. his circumstances are, however, widely different from his old time predecessor. the rough, hard work of the wilderness, including the building of dams, the construction of reservoirs and roads, and the improvement of the streams, has been accomplished chiefly by his predecessors. he is abundantly supplied with food, produced almost in the neighborhood of the scenes of his winter's work. he travels by rail almost to his destination or drives blooded teams over comparatively good roads, where his predecessors tediously blazed the way and cleared it of underbrush. his camp accommodations are far superior. he is housed in comfortable cabins, warmed with large stoves and heaters, whereas the cabin of the lumberman of had a fire built on the ground in the centre of the room. the modern camp is well furnished with tables and other conveniences. the cook has a separate room furnished with a cooking stove and modern appliances for cooking. he has his assistant, known as the "cookee" or second cook. the table is spread with a variety of food, and delicacies that would have astounded the lumberman of . each operator is limited to his own special work. his bounds are set and he can go no further, except at the risk of the loss of his labor. the work goes on with clock-like precision and is comparatively easy. everything is done on a larger scale and more economically. the crews are larger and the life is not near so solitary. the various crews employed for the spring drive combine and thereby greatly increase their efficiency. they are supplied with better and covered boats. the cook in the drive has in addition to his "cookee" a wangan man to assist in managing the boat. the drives are larger and yet more easily handled, the conveniences are greater and the expenses less. the men are more independent, and owing to the number employed, and the nearness of settlements and villages, more sociable, and possibly more hilarious and less thoughtful. we shall nevertheless find among them men of character, thoughtful, industrious and earnest men, who would have shone in the associations of the earlier camps and who will doubtless in the future be ranked among the successful and capable men, worthy successors of the veterans now leaving the stage of action. conjecture as to the future of the lumbering industry, and consequently as to the character of the men engaged in it, would be idle. who can tell what a day or another fifty years may bring forth? the pine woods will not last always; already the camps are being pushed further and further to the north and west, and whereever the denuded pine lands are arable the farmer is making his home. the lumbering industry is also passing into the hands of corporations, and with their extensive means and the armies of men employed by them the forests are disappearing more rapidly than ever. it is possible that the present generation of lumbermen may be the last in the valley of the st. croix, and that before another fifty years have passed the last of the number may have shouldered his axe or peavy and passed "over the divide." the log jams of the st. croix. the st. croix river in its passage through the dalles is compressed into a comparatively narrow channel, by which means the logs driven down the stream are crowded closely together, so closely as to sometimes become firmly wedged or jammed together. the jam generally occurs at a point known as angle rock, a huge promontory of massive trap rock extending into the middle of the channel from the minnesota side, and opposite to the st. croix landing. the river makes a bend around this rock nearly at a right angle with the channel above. at this point jams are, under certain conditions, almost inevitable. sometimes they are of small dimensions and are easily broken. sometimes the logs gather in such quantity and become so tightly wedged that it is a labor of weeks to break them. the first jam worthy of note occurred in , during the prevalence of high water. it is, in fact, only during high water that jams can occur, the current being at such time swift and strong, and the logs apt to accumulate in greater number than in the regular drives, from the fact that logs that have been stranded in former seasons or at low water are floated off, and the river is thus filled with logs from bank to bank. these are crowded into the narrow channel of the dalles faster than they can be discharged, and a jam results. an obstruction once formed, the logs continuing to come in from above fill the channel. the tide of logs arrested, crowd downward until they rest upon the bottom of the river, and are heaped upward sometimes to a height of twenty or thirty feet above the surface. the river thus checked in its course rises, wedging the logs more closely and heaping them higher. in the jam of the river channel was filled nearly to the st. croix dam, a distance of a mile and a quarter above angle rock. this being the first of the great jams excited unusual attention. excursionists came up daily in the boats to look upon it. it was indeed a wonderful sight. the logs were heaped together in the wildest confusion, and wedged in at all angles. men and horses were employed to break the jam, which at that time, owing to the inexperience of the workers, was no light task. the _modus operandi_ of jam breaking is to remove logs from the lower part of the jam till some log which serves as a key to the jam is reached. this being removed the logs above commence moving, and, if the haul be a long one, in a short time the movement is extended to the head of the jam. perhaps the logs are so heaped above that no water is visible. it matters not; the tremendous current beneath sweeps downward, carrying the logs along, and the spectator beholds a wonderful scene, a river of logs, the current swiftest in the centre of the stream, the logs rolling, tumbling, crashing, grinding, sometimes snapped in sunder like pipestems. the jam breakers are in the wildest excitement, cheering and hurrahing, and some may be seen out in the current of logs, jumping from one to another, or making their escape to the shore. others on the lower part of the jam at the moment of breaking are carried down the river. though apparently a scene of great danger, comparatively few accidents occur. the workers are cool, experienced men with steady nerves and stalwart arms, a race of men not surpassed for muscular development. in another jam took place nearly as large as that of . this jam came near destroying the beautiful bridge that spanned the river at the head of the dalles. many of the logs carried high in air by the pressure of the logs below struck the bridge, and at times its destruction seemed inevitable. this bridge has since been replaced by an iron structure, much higher than the first, but even this occasionally received a blow from some log carried along by the current at a "present arms." in another jam of considerable dimensions occurred, but it was removed with less labor and expense than its predecessors, and steamboats anchored below were used to aid in breaking it. it cost from $ , to $ , to break these jams. by far the greatest of the jams occurred in june, . the water was high, the current strong and the river above so full of logs that a log driver might have crossed upon them. this abundance was owing to other causes than those mentioned in the account of the jam of . the dams at snake, kettle and other rivers had been simultaneously opened, and the logs in these streams all set free at once in the current of the st. croix. on they came in long procession with but little obstruction till they reached angle rock, where they were suddenly arrested, and, owing to the force of the current, wedged more tightly and heaped higher than on any previous occasion, and the river channel was filled with logs to a point two miles above the st. croix falls formerly known as the dam. to break this jam, two steamers, two engines, several teams of horses and over two hundred men were employed, and during the six weeks that occurred before it was broken, thousands of visitors came by rail and steamboat to look upon it. this jam was estimated to hold during its continuance , , feet of logs. population of wisconsin. the first census of the northwest territory, taken in , does not show the population of the region now known as wisconsin. the census of gave the following figures: ohio, , ; indiana territory, , ; green bay, ; prairie du chien, . according to the census of , the original northwest territory contained a population of , , , or more than one-quarter of the population of the united states. the population of crawford county in was ; in , ; in , ; in , , ; in , ; in , , ; in , , . in , when wisconsin territory was organized, the population of the territory was, , . the whole number of votes cast at the election in was , . the population, according to the census taken at the close of every five years, was as follows: in , , ; in , , ; in , , ; in , , ; in , , ; in , , ; in , , , ; in , , , ; in , , , ; in , , , . the official compilation of the census of wisconsin gives the following details: total population, , , ; white, males, , ; females, , ; negroes, in full, , ; indians, , . the nativities are divided as follows: united states, , , ; germany, , ; scandinavia, , ; ireland, , ; great britain, , ; british america, , ; bohemia, , ; holland, , ; france, , ; all other countries, , ; subject to military duty, , ; soldiers of the late war, , . population of st. croix, pierce, polk, burnett, and sawyer counties. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ | .| .| .| .| .| .| .| .| .| .| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ st. croix | | | | , | , | , | , | , | , | , | pierce | | | | , | , | , | , | , | , | , | polk | | | | | , | , | , | , | , | , | burnett | | | | | | | | , | , | , | sawyer | | | | | | | | | | , | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ population of minnesota. in the territory had a population of , . the census taken at periods of every five years shows the following population: in , , ; in , ----; in , , ; in , , ; in , , ; in , , ; in , , ; in , , , . the following table gives the population of the counties on the st. croix waters. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ | . | . | . | . | . | . | . | .| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ washington | , | ---- | , | , | , | , | , | , | chisago | ---- | ---- | , | , | , | , | , | , | pine | ---- | ---- | | | | | , | , | kanabec | ---- | ---- | | | | | | , | isanti | ---- | ---- | | | , | , | , | , | carlton | ---- | ---- | | | | | , | , | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ minnesota state capitol. by the organic act of minnesota territory, $ , were appropriated for a capitol building. at the time the territory was organized, however (june , ), the _permanent_ seat of government had not been determined on, and the money was therefore not available. the central house in st. paul, a log tavern weather-boarded, situated at the corner of bench and minnesota streets, where the rear of the mannheimer block now is, was rented for the public offices and legislative assembly. it was for some months known as "the capitol." on the lower floor was the secretary of state's office, and the house of representatives chamber. on the second floor was the council chamber and the territorial library. neither of these legislative halls was over sixteen or eighteen feet square. the rest of the building was used as an inn. the union colors, floating from a flag staff on the bank in front of the building, was the only mark of its rank. during his entire term of office, gov. ramsey kept the executive office in his private residence, and the supreme court met in rented chambers here and there. on sept. , , the first session of the legislature assembled at the above temporary capitol. gov. ramsey delivered his message to the two houses in joint convention assembled, in the hotel dining room. the whole fitting of the assembly rooms was of the plainest description. considerable discussion ensued during the session on this subject, as to whether the territory had a right to expend the $ , appropriated in the organic act, for a capitol building. the question having been submitted to hon. wm. meredith, secretary of the treasury, he replied that the "department can not doubt that the public buildings in question can only be erected at the _permanent_ seat of government, located as described." the second session assembled jan. , , in a brick building, since burned, which occupied the site of the third street front of the metropolitan hotel. at this session the seat of government was fixed at st. paul, as above noted. d. f. brawley, jonathan mckusick, louis robert and e. a. c. hatch were elected building commissioners. charles bazille, a pioneer resident and large property owner of st. paul, donated to the government the block of ground since known as "capitol square," and plans drawn by n. c. prentiss were adopted. the contract was let to joseph daniels for $ , , but the building finally cost over $ , . it was commenced at once, but not completed until the summer of . the third and fourth sessions of the legislature were compelled, therefore, to meet in rented buildings. that of assembled in goodrich's block on third street below jackson, and that of in a two story brick row on third street, where the front of the mannheimer block now is. burning of the capitol. at nine o'clock on the evening of march , , while both houses of the legislature were in session, and all the halls and departments were crowded with visitors, the dome of the building was found to be on fire. the flames spread with too great rapidity to be checked, and all that could be done was to save the contents of the building. the most valuable records and papers of the various offices, and of the legislature, with some of the furniture, were carried out, but the greater part of the contents of the building, including the valuable law library, the supply of state laws, documents and reports, and all the stationery in the secretary of state's store rooms, etc., were a total loss. the historical society's library was mostly saved. the entire loss to the state was fully $ , . fortunately the city of st. paul had just completed a fine and spacious market house, which was still unoccupied, and its use was at once tendered the state by the city authorities, and while the flames were still burning the furniture and effects saved from the old capitol were removed thither. at nine o'clock next morning the state departments and both houses of the legislature were again at work in their new quarters. but two days of the session yet remained. gov. pillsbury immediately secured estimates for rebuilding the burned edifice, using the old walls, and an act appropriating $ , for that purpose was passed. work was commenced at once. it was then found that the old walls were too unsafe to use, and at the extra session in september, , the further sum of $ , was appropriated for the completion of the building. its total cost was about $ , . the dome of the building is two hundred feet above the ground, giving a noble view to the visitor who ascends it. the exterior of the edifice is neat and tasty, and it is altogether creditable to the state, considering its comparatively small cost. selkirk visitors. in the early days a somewhat primitive people inhabited the northwest, making their homes on the banks of the red river of the north and on the shores of winnipeg, in what was known as the selkirk settlement, now included in the province of manitoba. they were a mixed race of scotch, french and indian stock, born and raised under the government of the northwest british fur company. they were a peaceable, partly pastoral and partly nomadic, trading people. they cultivated the ground quite successfully considering the high latitude of their home and the absence of machinery for farm work, raising wheat, vegetables, cattle and horses. they engaged in hunting and trapping and yearly visited st. paul with the surplus products of their labor to be disposed of for money or goods. they came usually in caravans consisting of files of carts drawn by cows, oxen and ponies, and commanded by a captain elected to the position who exercised over them a rigid military rule. their carts were rude, creaking affairs, made entirely without iron, all the fastenings being sinews and leathern thongs. this harness was made of raw hides, indian tanned, and sewed with animal sinews. their costume was a happy cross between the civilized and savage. their caravans included from to carts, which were laden with furs, buffalo robes, buffalo tongues, dried pemmican, etc. as they came a distance of miles, the journey required many days, but was made in good military order. the raising of a flag was the signal for starting, the lowering, for stopping. at night the carts were ranged in a circle about the encampment, and sentinels posted. their encampment within the suburbs of st. paul attracted great crowds of the curious. in their train consisted of carts, and in of , but later, as railroads were built northward and steamers were placed upon the red river of the north, their number gradually diminished and finally their visits ceased altogether. cyclones. recorded and unrecorded, minnesota and wisconsin have had their full share of those atmospheric disturbances that have wrought so much destruction in the western states. in the early days, when the country was sparsely settled and villages and towns were few and far between, they came and went unnoted, or attracting but little attention. they left no traces on the plain, and in the forests only a belt of fallen timber, known as a "windfall." these belts are sufficiently numerous to establish the fact that these storms were probably as frequent in early, even in prehistoric, times as at the present. their movements are more destructive in later times because of the improvements of civilization, the increased number of human habitations and the growth of towns and cities. the tornado has more to destroy, and as a destroying agent, its movements are better known and more widely published. scientists are not agreed as to the cause of these destructive phenomena, but enough is known to overthrow the theory so persistently advanced that it is in consequence of the cutting away of the forests and the substitution of farms. in fact much of the country was already prairie land and abundant evidences of tornadoes are found in the midst of old forests in which have since grown up trees of considerable size, and this at a period long before the lumberman commenced his destructive work. we append a few sketches of cyclones that have occurred in comparatively recent times. the isanti county cyclone. this storm occurred in september, , and spent its fury chiefly in isanti county, but extended beyond and was felt even in wisconsin. the tornado gathered its wrath in the southwestern region of isanti county, in what is called the "lake typo settlement," some forty miles north of st. paul. it was first discovered in the shape of "two clouds," as the people there residing expressed it, "approaching each other from different directions." suddenly the mingling of these counter currents of strong winds appeared to form the blackened heavens into a funnel-shaped mass. the direction of the whirlwind was from southwest to northeast, and after crossing the st. croix river passed through an unsettled portion of timber lands known as "pine barrens," a growth of scattering pines interspersed with black oaks of medium size. on wood river, burnett county, wisconsin, the trunks of pine trees, three feet in diameter and eighty feet high, were twisted into "broom splints" and carried high in air. the intervening oaks were also served the same way; and the whole track of the tornado, from thirty rods to three-fourths of a mile in width, had left no tree standing. pines and oaks were all prostrate, and promiscuously heaped up in winrows over the ground, their branches and trunks interlocked, and in some places piled to the height of thirty feet. the author of this work lost about , , feet of pine logs in wood river in this cyclone. on clam river, wisconsin, for four miles in length and about half a mile in width, the forest was laid in winrows, and parties who came through soon after the tempest had to cut their way. the tornado, traveling with the velocity of lightning to the northeast, overtook dr. comfort, of wyoming, as he was crossing sunrise prairie with a mule team, accompanied by a hired man. the doctor and man saved themselves by clinging to some shrubs near by, but when the fury of the whirlwind had passed, all they could find of their outfit was the poor mules, half frightened to death, and the fore wheels and tongue of the wagon. the hind wheels, box, and the rest of the outfit, together with the doctor's medicine kit, which he had along, when last seen, were bound zenithward. wm. a. hobbs, late quartermaster sergeant of the third minnesota battery, light artillery, and orville grant and brother--sons of r. grant, esq., a farmer living in isanti county--were out hunting, and happened to be caught where the storm passed through the heaviest timber. they saw it approaching, and at first attempted to take shelter in an old school house near by, but soon saw that was no place for them and made for an old pine log which they got behind; soon that commenced to move. hobbs seized hold of an oak, some ten inches in diameter, which immediately commenced to be loosened at the roots and to spin around like a top. the tree was prostrated and he with it--he receiving very severe injuries. the grant boys, were also injured, but none near so badly as hobbs. the log school house shared the fate of the surrounding forest. a resident near by states that he saw one-half the roof sailing upward at least four hundred feet above the tops of the tallest trees. the cottage grove cyclone. on june , , a terrific cyclone visited the town of cottage grove, washington county, minnesota. we append the correct and vivid description taken from the "history of washington county:" "at o'clock p. m. there arose in the southwest a dark and heavy cloud, attended with loud thunder, vivid lightning and a strong wind. the cloud moved forward rapidly; soon the rain began to fall in torrents, when suddenly the wind came dashing with great violence, sweeping everything before it. there seemed to be two currents of wind, one coming from the west and the other from the southwest. these two currents came together in section . the stronger current being from the southwest, the storm took a northwestern direction, and did some damage in section , taking away a portion of the roof of ethan viall's house, and a trunk out of the chamber, no trace of which could be found. a corn cultivator was taken up, some portions of which were never found, while other parts were found two miles from the place of its taking. in section , when the currents met, the destruction of property beggars description. the timber in its track was prostrated; fences were torn up and scattered in every direction; e. welch's house came in the line of desolation; mr. and mrs. welch had stepped out to look after some chickens in which mrs. welch was specially interested, and, startled by the roar of the wind, were in the act of returning to the house. when near the door the wind took up the house, bearing it away, and a stick of timber struck both mr. and mrs. welch, knocking them down. when mr. welch recovered he had hold of his wife, but she was dead. the stick of timber struck her on the head and caused instant death. the next object in the path of destruction was c. d. tuttle's two story dwelling, located in the northwest corner of section . the main part of the house was torn to pieces and scattered in every direction, while the wing was left unmoved. the family, consisting of six persons, fled to the cellar and were miraculously preserved. the large barn a few rods further on was completely destroyed. next in its course was mr. j. c. tucker's barn, the roof of which suddenly passed along on the breeze. at this point the storm turned, taking a northeasterly direction, and struck the house of robert williams, damaging the house and entirely destroying the barn. a horse tied to a girder in the barn was found, uninjured, sixty feet outside of the limits of the building, with the girder lying across him, and the strap still tied to it. next in line was a small lake in the southwest corner of section . it was almost robbed of its treasure. the water and mud was carried a long distance up the bluffs, fifty feet above the level of the lake. next came the fine house of john morey, giving a portion of its roof to the excited wind; then passed into the town of denmark, continuing its destructive course, killing a horse for w. g. wagner, near the town line. a man known as michael schull, a farm hand, was taken up by the wind and dashed against a pile of wood, injuring his brain, causing him to become dangerous. he is now at st. peter in the insane asylum. the destruction of property was great. no accurate account of the amount of damage done has been compiled. mr. tuttle, living in section , suffered the most. he estimated his loss at $ , . his house was situated in a valley surrounded by oak trees, and we would suppose was protected by the strong bulwarks of nature, and yet house, barn, farming utensils, and machinery were scattered over the country. the next morning sheets of tin two feet square, found in mr. tuttle's yard, were supposed to have come from a church in dakota county. portions of mr. tuttle's house were found miles away." the same cyclone visited lake elmo and did great damage, blowing down the depot buildings, lake elmo hotel and other structures. the buildings and trees of the agricultural fair grounds were destroyed. some parts of the buildings were carried miles away by the storm. the cyclone at white bear and marine, minnesota, and clear lake, wisconsin. sept. , , a storm arose in hennepin county and did some damage; continuing to white bear lake, oneka and grant, in washington county, it gathered force and proved very destructive to life and property. as it passed through oneka and grant its path was about ten miles in width. churches, school houses, dwellings, barns, grain stacks, and fences in its way were either partially or wholly destroyed, and the wrecked property was distributed for miles around. the cyclone passed on over marine, big lake and scandia, crossed the st. croix, passed over the town of somerset, star prairie, new richmond, in st. croix county, and over black brook, clear lake, pineville and clayton in polk county and turtle lake in barron, pursuing the usual northeasterly direction common to these cyclones, and disappearing in terrific thunderstorms, in the timbered lands of barron and chippewa counties. an eye witness, mr. ivory hatch, of oneka, thus describes the approach of the storm: "i was standing near a shed in the barnyard, when suddenly the sky became black and threatening. in about five minutes i saw two funnel-shaped clouds descend and approach each other. i started for the house to warn my family, when, as quick as a flash, i was enveloped in the cloud, and while clinging to a post for safety my grain stacks and buildings disappeared. the storm did not continue over a minute and a half. i escaped almost miraculously without a bruise." the testimony of others in the neighborhood is substantially the same. in the town of oneka the destruction was worse than in any other locality. in the track of the storm through washington county not less than fifty houses were demolished. the loss on each averaged $ , making a total of $ , . losses on barns, machinery and stock raised this sum to $ , . the loss at marine was computed roughly at $ , , which made a total of $ , , not including hay and grain. the entire loss to clear lake was estimated at $ , . three persons lost their lives, mrs. p. burdick, willie kavanagh and john saunders. the methodist, congregational and swedish churches were leveled with the ground. the timber losses were close to $ , , ; private property in villages, loss near $ , , and all other losses, such as farm property and the like, in the hundred thousands. the total loss in wisconsin has been placed at six lives and $ , , in property. the st. cloud and sauk rapids cyclone of . the most destructive storm yet recorded occurred on the afternoon of april , . the clouds were first seen from st. cloud to gather a short distance over the basin of the masour cemetery about three o'clock, sunday afternoon, in dark, overhanging masses. then sharp tongues of lightning darted down with terrific force, and the storm with all its fury burst upon the doomed cities. the south end, or beginning of the cyclone track, was located two or three miles south and a little west of st. cloud and its total length was twenty-four miles. the property destroyed amounted to over a quarter of a million of dollars, and the loss of life at st. cloud and sauk rapids was seventy-five. if we include those who died later of injuries from wounds, exposure and fright, we may safely say a hundred. the first victim of the cyclone was nicholas junneman. the cyclone rising, as we have said, over or near calvary cemetery, for a space of about three hundred yards in diameter the trees were uprooted or twisted off, gravestones were thrown flat, and fences demolished. crossing over calvary hill, in a path about one hundred feet wide, it wrecked the small catholic chapel and badly injured the crucifix located there. next in its course was the farm house of nicholas junneman which was left a pile of ruins, and mr. junneman was killed, while his wife was dangerously injured. the first house struck within the city limits was j. w. tenvoorde's. just across the street j. schwartz's two story brick house was almost wrecked. here the path of the tornado was about two hundred feet wide, and increased until by the time it reached the manitoba depot the width was six hundred feet, taking in in its fearful embrace during the length of its course half a hundred or more buildings, which were totally wrecked, moved from their foundations, or more or less damaged. in many instances there was nothing left to show where a house had stood, and the prairie was covered far and wide with the debris of the demolished buildings. over fifty houses in st. cloud were totally destroyed and as many more badly damaged. before striking the river it swerved slightly northward, and thus the costly building blocks and crowded streets in the heart of the city were spared. had the cyclone veered in its course more to the south, the loss of property and life in st. cloud would have been incalculable. striking the river the cyclone appeared to be almost motionless for a few moments, or moved so slowly as to seem to hang over the face of the water, its huge black column rising toward the zenith. then leaving the river, this monster of the air struck sauk rapids at stanton's large flouring mill, which was left a heap of ruins. it then took demeules' store and the northern pacific depot, and passed on through the main business part of the place, leaving but one important business house standing, wood's store, which was badly damaged. court house, church, school building, post office, newspaper offices, hotels, dwelling houses, all went down under the relentless power of the storm. streets were blockaded with the wreck so as to be practically impassable. the list of dead out of a village of about , population included some of the leading county officials and prominent citizens. amongst them were john renard, county auditor, and gregg lindley, register of deeds; also edgar hull, president of the german-american national bank; e. g. halbert, of the new york insurance company, with whom mr. hull had just filed an application for a $ , policy, was so badly injured that he died in a few days. the destruction of property in sauk rapids was far greater than in st. cloud, as the business portion of the city was almost entirely swept away. the loss of life was also proportionately greater. after leaving sauk rapids the cyclone struck rice's, a station on the northern pacific road, about fourteen miles from the former village. some four miles southeast of the station, at the house of a farmer named schultz, a happy wedding party was gathered, a daughter of the farmer having been married to henry friday, chairman of the board of supervisors of langola. almost before they realized it the terrible power of the storm encircled them, and in the twinkling of an eye nine of the goodly company were mangled corpses, among the number being the groom, while the bride was dangerously if not fatally injured. the victims also included the rev. g. j. schmidt, pastor of the german evangelical church of sauk rapids. the rev. mr. seeder, pastor of the two rivers district, was found out on the prairie with both legs broken. at buckman, morrison county, several persons were killed, and six or seven farm houses destroyed. the suffering caused by this most terrible of cyclones evoked the liveliest sympathy, and large contributions of money, food and clothing were forwarded by the citizens of st. paul, minneapolis and other cities throughout the state. g. w. benedict, of sauk rapids, relates his experience in the storm as follows: "i was in the yard at my residence half a mile north of the depot, when i heard a terrible deafening roar, and on looking up i saw what first appeared to be a very heavy black volume of smoke from a railroad engine, but in a moment i realized what it was. the volume of black cloud soon increased to double its size, and had a funnel shape, gyrating in a peculiar zigzag form. untold amounts of debris of houses, fences and everything above the surface were shooting and flying with terrific velocity from the cloud, which took a northerly direction. the horrible writhing demon of destruction, with its deafening roar, increased in volume and force, and hurled to utter destruction everything in its path, a great portion of which was carried miles in the air out of sight as though but trifles of lightest chaff." thos. van etten was walking on the street, going home, when the cyclone struck the town, and he was bodily lifted into the air, carried four hundred feet up a steep hill and landed in a street, literally plastered over with mud. a young man fishing near the end of the bridge, on the opposite side from sauk rapids, says that many of the houses were lifted high in the air, and did not seem to be injured until they were dashed to the ground, when they collapsed, and the pieces were scattered in all directions. none of the very large number of persons who went into a cellar for protection from the storm were badly injured. the fink family, the mother and four children of which were almost instantly killed, were in a house which had an excellent cellar, but the family forgot to utilize it. near the ruins of the carpenter house is a tree about ten inches in diameter, through which a pine board was driven so that it protruded at both sides of the tree. the property loss in benton county was estimated at $ , , and in st. cloud at $ , . struck by lightning. some time in the ' s messrs. oaks, rand, witham, carson, and twelve other men were in a tent on the banks of lake st. croix, just below the mouth of willow river, during a severe thunder storm. it was about o'clock p. m. when lightning struck the tent and passing down killed witham and carson, and severely stunned oaks and rand. the other men were not injured, but, being badly frightened, ran away, and did not return till the following morning, when they found two of the men supposed killed still alive, but dazed and motionless. the two killed were lying close together, while mr. oaks lay upon one side and mr. rand upon the other. the lightning had struck the men who were killed upon the head, and traversing the body had passed out below the ankles. the current of electricity had passed up the arm of mr. oaks and down his body, burning spots the size of a pea, and plowing lines under the skin, the scars of which, after recovery, were raised in welts nearly as large as a whipcord. mr. oaks was nearly a year recovering. he says that during the time he lay motionless and apparently stunned he was in full possession of his faculties. mr. rand had one side of his body burned to a blister. prior to this he had been affected with weak eyes, but the electrical treatment there received effected a complete cure. asiatic cholera. minnesota was early visited by this scourge of the eastern world. it was brought up the river on the crowded steamers and created the utmost consternation, and even panic. no one on board the royal arch, may, , can forget the dreadful scenes upon this boat. the first case occurred at galena, that of a child, and the next at la crosse, that of a woman, who was put ashore in a dying condition twenty miles above. from thence to st. paul the boat was a floating hospital, and thirteen corpses lay under a canvas on the lower deck. notwithstanding the ghastly freight carried by the steamer, and its sick and dying passengers in the cabin above, kind hearts sympathized and kind hands were extended to help; and the dead were buried and every thing possible was done for the sick and suffering survivors, many of whom died after being carried ashore at st. paul. what these good samaritans did was at the risk of their own lives, and more than one, among them henry p. pratt, editor of the st. paul _minnesotian_, sickened and died from infection caught by ministering to the stricken ones. decree of citizenship. the first naturalization papers on record in minnesota are somewhat unique, and for that reason worthy of preservation, and are herewith presented _et literatim_: decree of citizenship. territory of wisconsin, st. croix county. i, william willim, an alien by birth, aged twenty-six years, do hereby, upon my oath, make known that i was born in the county of hereford, in the kingdom of great britain and ireland, on the twenty-sixth day of june, a. d. ; that i emigrated from the kingdom aforesaid, and landed in new york, in the state of new york, on the first day of october, ; that i was at that time a minor aged seventeen years, and that i have since that time resided in the united states of america; that it is my _bona fide_ intention to become a citizen of the united states, to renounce forever all allegiance and fidelity which i, in anywise, owe to any foreign power, potentate, state or sovereignty whatever, and more particularly all allegiance and fidelity which i, in anywise, owe to victoria, queen of great britain, of whom i have heretofore been a subject, and, further that i do not possess any hereditary title, or belong to any of the order of nobility in the kingdom from whence i came; so help me god. william willim. sworn and subscribed to before me on this eighteenth day of june, , in open court. joseph r. brown, _clerk of district court of st. croix county, wisconsin territory._ another oath, such as is now administered, to support the constitution of the united states, was signed and attested in like manner. burning of the international hotel. on a clear, cold night in february, , the international hotel, located at the corner of seventh and jackson streets, took fire and was speedily consumed. the alarm was sounded at two o'clock in the morning. the hotel was crowded with boarders, among whom were many members of the legislature, then in session, and their families. the writer occupied a room on the second floor and was among the first aroused. hastily seizing my trunk i hurried down stairs and returned to assist others, but was stopped by the smoke at the entrance. the guests of the house were pouring from every outlet. a group of ladies had escaped to the sidewalk, partly clad, some with bare feet. ladders were placed to the windows to save those who had failed to escape in the hallway. senators c. a. gilman and seagrave smith, with their wives, were rescued in this manner. many diverting circumstances occurred illustrative of nonchalance, coolness and daring, as well as of bewilderment and panic. senator armstrong tried in vain to throw his trunk from a window in which it was wedged fast and was obliged to leave it to the flames. judge meeker came out of the house carrying his clothing upon his arm, having a shawl wrapped round his head, and bewailing the loss of the maps and charts of meeker's dam. seagrave smith tarried too long searching for a senate bill, and narrowly escaped sharing the fate of the bill. many of the guests escaped in their night clothing, and carrying their clothing with them completed their toilet standing in the snow in the light of the burning building. considering the rapidity of the fire, and the hour at which it occurred it seemed marvelous that no lives were lost. grasshoppers. minnesota has been visited at intervals by that scourge of some of the western states, grasshoppers. the first visitation was from the selkirk (now manitoba) settlement, about - . the pests are said to have accompanied some of the early immigrants from selkirk who came down to the reservation about fort snelling. they made yearly visitations and threatened to become a serious obstacle to the settlement of the country. some seasons they proved quite destructive. in - - - the state legislature made appropriations to relieve those suffering from their ravages in the western and southwestern parts of the state. there were also large private contributions to the relief fund. one of the acts passed at the session of appropriated $ , for bounties to pay for the destruction of grasshoppers and their eggs. townships and villages were also authorized to levy taxes for the destruction of the common enemy, and $ , was appropriated to furnish seed grain for those who had lost their crops, and $ , was voted for a common relief fund. special prayers were offered for an abatement of the scourge. in , when the grasshopper appeared in myriads again, the governor appointed a day of fasting and prayer for riddance from the calamity. from some unknown cause the grasshoppers disappeared, and have not since returned in such numbers as to prove a plague. these grasshoppers were a species known as the rocky mountain locusts. ancient mounds. the valley of the mississippi and the valleys of its tributary streams abound with mounds of various sizes and fashions, circular, oval or oblong, serpentine and sometimes irregular in outline, and all works of intelligence and design, wrought by some ancient people for purposes now not fully known. it is probable, however, that some were used as places of defense, others were built for sacrificial or religious purposes, others for sepulture, and others still may be the remains of dwellings. most of them contain relics, coins or implements made of shells, of flints and in some instances of baked earthenware, and lastly human remains. these relics are not necessarily of cotemporaneous date, and many of them are comparatively modern. such mounds were used for burial places long after their original builders had passed away. that they are very ancient is unquestionable. they outdate the traditions of the indians who inhabited this country at the date of its discovery, while the most ancient remains taken from them indicate as their builders a people widely different from the present aborigines, and possessed of arts unknown to them. conjecture points to a race from the south, probably the aztecs, as the mound builders. this race was exterminated in some way, or driven away by some stronger tribes, who may in turn have given place to our present race of indians. a full description of these ancient works would require volumes; we can therefore allude only to a few that may be considered typical specimens of their class. at prairie village, now waukesha, wisconsin, in , the writer saw a mound six feet high, representing a tortoise, the head, feet and tail being still distinctly traceable. many mounds exist at prairie du chien, some quite large, and of varying shape, some representing inclosures or fortifications, with gateways or openings. these are located on the high bluffs east of the prairie. many of these, very distinct in the early days, are now almost obliterated by the plowshare of the farmer and the spade of the relic hunter. the builders of the ancient mounds certainly exercised great taste in their location, as they are generally found in pleasant localities, on grassy plateaus or elevated lands, and by the shores of lakes and streams. some, originally built on plains, have since been overgrown with trees. in some cases trees of immense size have been found growing even on the summit of the mounds. the most notable mounds of the st. croix valley are at vasa village, in marine township, washington county, minnesota, and in the neighborhood of osceola mills, polk county, wisconsin. we append notes of a survey of the latter, made in . they are sixteen in number and we mention only the most remarkable. no. is of circular form, feet in height and in diameter. trees feet in diameter are found on this mound. mound no. has a diameter of feet, and was originally feet high; at present but . this mound is also of circular formation. mound no. is circular in form, feet in diameter and feet high. mound no. is circular, feet in diameter and feet high. mound no. is oblong and × feet in dimensions, and feet high. the largest and finest of these mounds have been nearly destroyed by the encroachments of the road makers. these mounds are located two miles north of osceola, on close creek. alanson thompson made a homestead of the land on which they are situated, and built his home immediately in the rear of the two larger mounds. his garden included many of the mounds. mr. t. h. lewis, of st. paul, made a later survey of these ancient mounds. in the group north of the creek and near the school house, which he classifies as the upper group, he finds ninety-six well developed mounds, and some of them of peculiar shape and great interest. in the group south of the creek, which he calls the lower group, he finds forty-nine mounds, a total of one hundred and forty-five in the two groups; at least five times as many as has been supposed to be there. but one of the mounds is an effigy mound, and this is not clearly defined, plowing in the field having disturbed the outline of the effigy. the most of them contain bones, as has long been known, and mr. lewis finds in them shell relics, which are rarely found in any mounds; also pottery, and beads made from shells. another peculiar mound not included in this description may be found on the bluff overlooking the st. croix, not far from the close creek series of mounds. it is over one hundred feet in length and serpentine in form, one end being enlarged to represent the head. there are also fine specimens of ancient mounds on chisago lake, near centre city and chisago city. the subject is a fascinating one to the archaeologist, but it behooves him to make haste with his investigations, as these marvelous works are rapidly disappearing, being dug over by the irresponsible and unscientific relic hunter, or worn down by the plow, or carted away for loose earth to mend a roadway or fill a sinkhole. lake itasca. the mississippi appropriately takes its name at the outlet of lake itasca, its reputed source. this lake, although known to the fur company adventurers of the eighteenth, and the early part of the nineteenth centuries, received the name itasca in from schoolcraft and boutwell. a complete account of the naming of the lake will be found in the biography of rev. w. t. boutwell, attached to the history of pine county in this work. itasca lies in range , townships and , and is about three miles in length by one and one-half in width. its title to the distinction of being the true source of the mississippi has been frequently called in question. there are tributary lakes of smaller size lying near it, connected with it by small streams, barely navigable for birch canoes. elk lake, a body of water three-fourths of a mile in length, lying south, is connected with it by a stream links wide and rods in length. elk lake has an influent stream miles in length, which drains a swamp lying south. another stream from the south, two miles in length, flows into itasca, and has its source in a lake one-fourth of a mile long. as this lake has not been named in any original or later township map, united states surveyor chandler, chief clerk b. c. baldwin and the writer, in january, , agreed to give it the name of boutwell, in honor of the devoted missionary who visited itasca in company with schoolcraft in . this lake is really the source of the mississippi, though from its small size is not likely to receive general recognition as such. lakes itasca, elk and boutwell lie in range , township , west of the th principal meridian, united states survey, latitude . , and longitude . west from greenwich united states survey. the lands bordering on and adjacent to these lakes were surveyed in october, , by edwin hall, and lie in beltrami county, which was named after an italian traveler who visited this section in . hon. b. c. baldwin, a member of the minnesota constitutional convention of , told the writer that when surveying government lands in , he discovered in range , township , six miles west of itasca, a lake two and a half miles in length, without inlet or outlet, the waters apparently rising, as trees were standing in the water near the shore and submerged at least eight feet. small lakes of similar character were also discovered. twelve miles west of itasca the tributaries of the red river of the north have their source. the latest claim made as to the discovery of the source of the missispippi is that of capt. willard glazier, who, in , claimed to have discovered elk lake as the source of the mississippi. the minnesota state historical society promptly repudiated his assumptions, and protested against affixing to elk lake the name glazier, as the captain was in no sense a discoverer, either of the lake or its connections with itasca, the adjacent lands having been surveyed in , and partially covered with claims in . with far more justice we might claim for lake boutwell, a more remote lake, the distinguished honor of being the true source of the mississippi. copper mining on the st. croix. as early as , a company, composed of the harris brothers and others, of galena, illinois, prospected in the upper st. croix valley for copper. their superintendent, mr. crosby, located a mineral permit at pine island, one mile above st. croix falls, where he found rich specimens. citizens and operatives at st. croix mills gave liberally to aid the enterprise, but mr. crosby's health having failed he left expecting to spend the winter in cuba, but sickened and died at new orleans, and the mining enterprise of the galena company was never resumed. in , a boston company, composed of caleb cushing, robert rantoul, dexter and harrington, and others, of boston, and some other capitalists, located a mineral permit one mile square at st. croix falls, and another of the same dimensions on the st. croix and kettle river rapids. this proved to be a speculative scheme of boston and washington capitalists and politicians. in , david dale owen, a prominent geologist, made an exploration of the territory now included in minnesota and wisconsin and published a report. his work being done at the order of the government, he was accompanied by a corps of scientific men, and had time and means to make thorough investigations. he reported that the trap rock ranges of the st. croix, a continuation of the copper ranges of superior, are rich in specimens of copper. these ranges crop out every few miles in a southwesterly direction from superior. the most southerly are those known as the dalles of the st. croix, including as a part the franconia ledge three miles below. the kanabec river range crops out near chengwatana. the kettle river range crosses the st. croix further north. in the minnesota legislature placed the sum of $ , in the hands of n. c. d. taylor for the purpose of examining and reporting the different mineral prospects on the st. croix and its tributaries. he reported the kettle river veins as being very promising. mr. taylor sunk a shaft in a locality in taylor's falls to a depth of forty feet and found excellent indications of copper, and some good specimens. he reports most of the rock in the st. croix valley above taylor's falls to be of the different kinds of trap rock, with belts of conglomerate running through them in a direction from northeast to southwest, the conglomerate being most abundant on the kettle river. there are limited patches of sandstone which in places contain marine shells, but no rock in place. prof. hall says of the taylor's falls vein that it is a very distinct vein and shows quite equal to the early showing of many of the best paying mines of superior. he regards the kettle river vein as one of the most promising yet found in the country. other veins have been discovered in the vicinity of the st. croix dalles. considerable money has been spent in prospecting and development, but more capital is needed than miners have yet been able to obtain. taylor's falls copper mining company was organized dec. , , w. h. c. folsom, president; geo. w. seymour, secretary; levi w. folsom, treasurer; david a. caneday, mining agent. they sunk a shaft one hundred and thirty feet deep and found good indications. this mine was worked in - , at an expenditure of over $ , . excellent specimens were found but not in paying quantities. the rock increased in richness as the shaft sunk in depth. the work was suspended for want, of material aid. there is but little doubt that as the valley becomes known and populated, that as wealth increases, the mineral resources of the country are better known, mining will become a prominent and profitable industry. reminiscences of rev. julius s. webber.[k] we reached stillwater, june , , and moved into the elfelt house on north hill. the village contained at that time about thirty dwellings, two hotels, three stores, and a number of saloons. three religious denominations held services each sabbath, the missionaries in charge alternating through the successive sabbaths, and supporting in addition a union prayer meeting and sabbath-school, of which capt. wm. holcomb was the first superintendent. the meetings were held in a school house on third street. my appointments outside of stillwater were at willow river, kinnikinic and prescott, wisconsin, and at cottage grove and point douglas in minnesota. in rev. s. t. catlin was appointed to that part of my field lying east of the st. croix river, and i formed appointments at arcola, marine, taylor's and st. croix falls. we organized a baptist society at stillwater, oct. , , consisting of eight members; rev. j. p. parsons and wife, dean a. h. cavender and wife of st. paul, j. s. webber and wife, constituting a council of recognition. rev. j. p. parsons preached the sermon of recognition, and j. s. webber extended the right hand of fellowship. the first baptism by immersion in the county was administered in a large spring just below nelson's store, jan. , , the waters of the spring being free from ice. the candidate was margaret towner, of pembina. in i made a tour of the minnesota valley to mankato. on the first day, september d, i traveled from fort snelling to shakopee and saw not a human habitation nor a human being on the trail. at shakopee i found a home with judge dowling. on the next day i traveled to le sueur. on sabbath morning i preached at traverse des sioux, and in the afternoon i went to mankato, and stopped at the house of mr. hannah, where i preached in the evening, to a congregation that had come together hastily from the neighborhood, the first sermon preached in mankato. on the twenty-sixth i preached the first sermon at le seuer, and the first sermon at shakopee on my return. in i opened on the south hill, known later as nelson's addition to stillwater, a school known as washington seminary, which received liberal patronage from the citizens of stillwater and surrounding country. in may, , i sold the school to mr. kent, and it passed into the hands of an episcopal clergyman. i returned to new york where i have since lived, pursuing my calling, which has suffered thus far no interruption from sickness or infirmities. the remembrance of my association with the people of the st. croix valley is pleasant. amongst the most pleasant of my recollections are those of the lumbermen of st. croix, who often made up a large portion of my congregation. they were kind and courteous, attentive hearers and valued as friends and associates. an amusing incident. an amusing incident occurred in carver county, in judge e. o. hamlin's district (an account of which was published in "the drawer" of harper's _monthly_, some years after it occurred). judge hamlin, going to chaska to hold his first term of court in carver county, found the sheriff absent, and his deputy, a foreigner who could speak english very imperfectly, ignorant alike of his duties and of the language in which they were to be performed, confessed his entire ignorance of "how to open court," but said he could read writing. therefore judge hamlin wrote out the form for opening court, and instructed him when the order was given for "the sheriff to open court," to stand up and read distinctly the form prepared for him. this was in the usual terms, beginning "hear ye, hear ye, all manner of persons having any business," etc., etc., and ending with "come forward and give your attendance, and you shall be heard." at the hour fixed the court room was reasonably well filled. parties, witnesses and jurors, together with the district attorney (who at that time went with the judge over the whole district) were in attendance. the judge was on the bench, and the deputy sheriff, fully conscious of the dignity of his office, awaited the order of the judge. upon being told to "make proclamation for the opening of court," this officer arose, and holding the written form before his eyes, roared out in stentorian tones: "_here we are! here we are!_" and running through the remainder of the form closed with "come forward and give your attendance, and you _will be sure to be here_!" the air of importance with which it was said, together with his self complacency in the discharge of his new duties, was scarcely less amusing than the mistake he had made. its effect may be better imagined than described. the old settlers association. by an act of the legislature approved may , , the "old settlers association" was incorporated with the following charter members: h. h. sibley, socrates nelson, franklin steele, a. l. larpenteur, wm. holcombe, wm. h. randall, wm. hartshorn, cornelius lyman, lorenzo a. babcock, j. d. ludden, david olmsted, h. m. rice, alex. ramsey, wm. r. marshall, jos. r. brown, chas. w. borup, henry jackson, martin mcleod, norman w. kittson, vetal guerin, j. w. selby, aaron goodrich, and philander prescott. these members, with those whom they might associate with them, were duly empowered to buy, sell, hold property, to sue or be sued, to receive donations, to keep a common seal, and to enjoy all the franchises incident to a corporate body. it was provided that no person should be eligible to a membership who had not been a resident of the territory prior to jan. , . the seal of the association was devised by aaron goodrich. on the two sides of the seal were represented the past and the future. in the background of the side representing the past is delineated a plain; in the distance are seen the last rays of the declining sun; nearer are seen indian hunters, their lodges, women and children, and a herd of buffalo. prominent in the foreground of the side representing the future stands an aged man with silvered hair; he leans upon his staff; he is in the midst of a cemetery; the spire of a church is seen in the distance; as he turns from a survey of the various monuments which mark the resting place of departed old settlers, his eye rests upon a new made grave. it is that of his last associate; _he is the last survivor_; his companions have fallen asleep. a group of children in the foreground represents the rising generation of minnesota which shall reap the fruits of the pioneer's toil. [illustration: seal of the association.] organization. the first meeting of the old settlers association was held, in pursuance of public notice, at the hall of the historical society of minnesota, in the capitol, in st. paul, on saturday, feb. , . on motion of judge goodrich, his excellency henry h. sibley was unanimously elected president. hon. aaron goodrich and hon. l. a. babcock were unanimously elected vice presidents, a. l. larpenteur, esq., secretary, and j. w. bass, esq. treasurer. after which gov. sibley addressed the meeting in a manner able, pertinent and feeling. several other members spoke. on motion a committee of three was appointed by the chair to report by-laws for the government of the association. also a committee of three to report such measures as shall be deemed best calculated to effectuate the objects of the charter. the president appointed h. l. moss, l. a. babcock and t. r. potts committee on by-laws, and aaron goodrich, b. w. lott and chas. s. cave committee on charter. judge goodrich said this occasion was one of deep and abiding interest to the pioneers of minnesota; that there were epochs in our history that should be commemorated. he desired that the first day of june be fixed upon as the day for the future meetings of the association; he named this day for the reason that on the first day of june, , the local organization of this territory took place. the following resolution was adopted: _resolved, that the annual meeting of this association be held_ on the first day of june, providing that when said month shall commence on the sabbath, said meeting shall be held on the following monday. on motion of judge goodrich the following preamble and resolution were adopted: whereas, the object of this association and the individuals composing the same are closely _allied_ to and identified with that of the historical society of minnesota, therefore _resolved_, that up to the period in which this association shall possess a hall in which to meet, its place of meeting shall be the hall of said historical society. as a matter of history we record the names of the members originally and subsequently enrolled. ames, michael e.* ayer, frederick.* abbott, g. s.+ altenberg, william.* armstrong, william.+ atkinson, john w. anderson, john.+ arpin, a.* babcock, lorenzo a.* bailly, alexis.* bass, jacob w. beatty, james. banfill, john.* barton, thomas.* bazille, charles.* becker, george l. berard, antoine.+ bevans, henry l.* black, mahlon. bautien. v.+ beaulieu, clement h. beau, james.+ bishop. thornton. beaupre, philip. blackburn, john t. burns, hugh. berriwick, j.* blair, o. h.* boutwell, w. t. blakeley, russell. bolles, lemuel.* borup, chas. w. w.* bostwiek, lardner.* bradley, j.* brady, patrick.* brawley, daniel j.* brisette, edmond.* bromley, c. b. brown, joseph r.* brown, wm. r.* brunson, benj. w bryant, alden.+ buffit, c.+ burkelo, samuel.* bottineau, pierre. bettington, john c.+ beauchier, francis.+ besour, a. c.* bailly john.+ boal, james mc c.* campbell, george w.* cavalier, charles. cave, chas. s. cavender, a. h. chute, rirchard. clewitt, james r.* colter, william.* conway, chas. r. cooper, david.* cormack, john.* cave, william. culver, george.* culver, j. b.* connell, william.+ cummings, r. w. curtis, harley.* chapman, john j.+ cloutier, a.+ colby, wm. f. colter, charles. carlie, c.* chase, a. m. comer, elias h. church, cal.+ dana, napoleon, j. t. day, david. day, james.* dayton, lyman.* desmarais, louis. desnoyers, stephen.* dewey, john j. dibble, william b.* doe, william e.* day, henry t. day, leonard p.* dorr, caleb d. dobney, john. durant, e. w. day, william p.+ dudley, john. davis, patten w. dresser, horace.+ elfelt, charles d. ely, edmund f.* ellison, smith. eddy, frank s.* eldridge, ariel. eaton, alonzo.+ elfelt, l. c.* faribault, j. b.* faribault, alex.* farrington, g. w.+ fisher, jacob. forbes, w. h.* ford, j. a.+ finch, t. m.+ findley, s. j.* foster, a. d.* foster, thomas.* freeborn, william.* french, a. r.* folsom, s. p. furber, j. w.* furber, p. p.* fuller, a. g.+ folsom, w. h. c. fox, patrick. fairbanks, john h. foster, henry.+ furber, theodore. fisk, frank. folsom, edgar. folsom, ward w. farnham, s. w. fillmore, r. g. fisher, john. finn, william. farnham, rufus, jr. gammel, irenus.* gibbs, h.r. gilman, david.* godfrey, ard. goodrich, aaron.* greely, elam.* guerin, vetal.* gautier, napoleon. guernsey, w.h. glenn, samuel.* getchel, w. w. gervais, benjamin. gardner, charles r. gardner, john c.* gray, isaac. guion, joseph. hartshorn, w.* hartshorn, w. e. hobart, chancey. holcombe, william.* holmes, thomas.* hoyt, b. f.* hoyt, lorenzo. hopkins, daniel.* hopkins, peter. humphrey, j. k. harris, george. holton, john.* houghton, george. houghton, james. haskell, joseph. hone, david.* henkly, j. s.+ hoffman, james.+ haskill, hiram.+ hetherington, thomas,* holcombe, w. w. hill, lewis. irvine, j. r.* irvine, b. f. jackson, henry.* jarvis, w. h.* johnson, p. k. johnson, r. w. jackins, john.* jackman, h. a. kellogg, m. n. kennedy, robert. kittson, n. w.* keogh, james. knox, m. c. kent, william. kattenberg, henry. lambert, h. a.* larpenteur, e. n.* larpenteur, a. l. lennon, j. g.* lennon, j. e. leavitt, martin. lull, c. p. v. lyman, cornelius s.* lott, b. w.* ludden, j. d. leonard, c. e. loomis, d. b. lowry, s. b.* lyman, stoers b. lyman, david p. mckenny, j. h.* mckenzie, j. g. masterson, h. f. mckusick, john. mckusick, j. e. mitchell, j. b. h. marshall, w. r. mcleod, martin.* mccleod, alexander.* mclean, n.* murphy, edward.* meeker, bradley b.* murphy, alfred c.+ mckusick, william. mchattie, alexander. manaege, peter. mackey, andrew. mcdonald, r.+ masier, josiah.* marks, isaac.* moreau, charles.* mahoney, wm.* mahoney, jeremiah. morgan, john.* moffett, lot.* morrison, w. c. morrison, allen.* morton, t. f.* moss, h. l. murray, m. p. murphy, j. w. myrick, nathan. mccomb, j. d. mckean, elias. mcmullen, james.+ mclean, henry.+ masterman, joseph. mause, john. mower, wm.* mower, martin. mower, john e.* mosher, jacob. mchale, m.+ mchattie, john. mclery, charles.+ moulton, e. (jr.)+ mccarty, a.+ manse, charles.+ neill, e. d. nichols, g. c.* nelson, socrates.* nobles, w. h.* norris, j. s.* north, j. w. northrup, anson. newbury, h. h. oakes, c. h.* oakes, david.* odel, t. s.* olmsted, david.* owens, j. p.* parker, rodney.* perin, moses. potts, t. r.* prescott, philander.* presley, bartley.* pomeroy, j. h. proctor, j. s. pond, g. h. powers, simon.* potter, colver.+ perro, joseph. parker, l. n. parsons, oliver. quinn, w. b. quinn, peter.+ randall, b. h. randolph, s. r.* ramsey, alexander. ramsey, j. c.* ravoux, auguste. reed, c. m.* rice, h. m. rice, edmund. robertson, andrew.* rice, c. r.* robert, louis.* robert, joseph.* richardson, r. m. rollins, john.* rose, isaac.* russell, r. p. russell, jeremiah.* riggs, s. r.* robert, alexis.+ roy, peter.* russell, william. rohrer, daniel. robert, nelson. rogers, john. ramsden, thomas. rutherford, wm.* rogers, richard.+ rutherford, james.* selby, j. w.* simons, orlando. simpson, j. w.* simpson, robert. shaffer, c. e. shearer, a. l.* sherman, m. spencer, j. b. spicer, nathan.+ shelley, e. y. steele, franklin.* spencer, john h.+ sawyer, seth m.* spates, samuel.+ somerville, john.+ stevens, j. h. stone, lewis.* sturgis, w.* sweet, g. w. setzer, h. n. stanchfield, sam.* sibley, h. h. stinson, c. f.+ santel, a.+ staples, josiah.+ shamley, john+ sanford, h. s.+ shearer, james. stratton, l. w.* scott, c. p.+ short, a. j. shoasby, john.* stiles, w. l.+ taylor, j. l. taylor, jesse w.* taylor, n. c. d.* terry, j. c. tinker, w. h. thompson, james (colored).* trask, sylvanus. trower, john.+ thompson, g. w.* terry, robert.* van voorhes a.* villaume, thomas.* von tassel, william.* walker, orange.* whitaker, e. h. whitney, j. c. wilkinson, m. s. wilkin, alex.* wells, james.* wilson, harvey.* woodbury, warren.* willoughby, a.* wright, thomas.+ williamson, t. s.* willim, william. wilmarth, alvin m. wallis, john.+ worthingham, wm.+ white, asa.* westing, henry.* welshance, m.* williams, d. d.* whalen, patrick.* yorks, j. c. [note: * deceased.] [note: + unknown.] objects and organization. the society was organized in by a few of the pioneers of the territory, and incorporated by an act of the first territorial legislature, approved oct. , , this being the first literary institution organized in the territory; and its "library," then only a few volumes, was the first ever established in minnesota. the original charter of the society stated its objects to be: "the collection and preservation of a library, mineralogical and geological specimens, indian curiosities, and other matters and things connected with, and calculated to illustrate and perpetuate the history and settlement of said territory." the amended charter of enacted: "the objects of said society, with the enlarged powers and duties herein provided, shall be in addition to the collection and preservation of publications, manuscripts, antiquities, curiosities, and other things pertaining to the social, political and natural history of minnesota, to cultivate among the citizens thereof a knowledge of the useful and liberal arts, science and literature." the work of this society may therefore be formulated thus: i. ( ) the collection, ( ) the preservation, ( ) the publication of materials for the history of minnesota and its people. ii. the collection and management of a library containing useful works of reference on the most valuable departments of knowledge. iii. the diffusion among citizens of the state of useful knowledge. its progress. in the early days of the territory, owing to its want of means, the sparse population and its poverty, and the infancy of the commonwealth generally, the society accomplished but little beyond collecting some information regarding the early history of this region, and printing the same in several pamphlet volumes. in it had only eight hundred and forty volumes in its library. it was then reorganized, and with the aid of a small annual appropriation from the state, since enlarged, has been able to make very gratifying progress. its present condition. it has now comfortable apartments in the state capitol, a building believed to be fireproof; a sufficient income to pay its current expenses, granted partly by the state and partly contributed by its members; one of the largest and most valuable libraries in the state, containing , volumes of choice works, together with a cabinet or museum of historical and archælogical curiosities, and a number of historical pictures, engravings, manuscripts, etc. an endowment fund of several thousand dollars, accumulated by gifts and membership fees; two lots, eligibly situated, on which at no distant day, will be erected a fireproof building. proposed building for the society. reference was made before to the building lots of the society. these were purchased by a subscription of the members in , for the sum of $ , , in hopes that the society would be enabled to erect thereon a fireproof building for its use, but up to this time it has not been able to do so. the lots are now valued at $ , or more. several months ago an effort was made by the president of the society to raise enough by subscription to insure the commencement of a building to cost, completed, $ , ; of this amount $ , was subscribed, and it is believed that there are liberal and public spirited citizens of our state who will contribute the balance when called on, or provide, by will, for bequests in its aid. such an edifice would be a perpetual monument to their generosity and public spirit, and would be an inestimable boon to succeeding generations, who will frequent our library in pursuit of knowledge. presidents of the old settlers association. . henry h. sibley. . socrates nelson. . j. e. mckusick. . wm. h. nobles. . dr. t. r. potts. . frank steele. . r. m. richardson. . john d. ludden. . socrates nelson. . abram van voorhes. . henry h. sibley. . nathaniel mclean. . bartlett presley. . john h. stevens. . george l. becker. . david b. loomis. . henry m. rice. . alex. ramsey. . norman w. kittson. . charles h. oakes. . mahlon black. . charles e. leonard. . benj. h. randall. . s. p. folsom. . jacob w. bass. . benj. w. brunson. . clement h. beaulieu. . henry l. moss. . r. w. johnson. . anson northrup. . david day. judge goodrich was secretary of the old settlers association from until his death, in . the st. croix valley old settlers association. this association was organized nov. , , at the office of durant & wheeler, in the city of stillwater. charles e. leonard was elected president, and david b. loomis, secretary. the latter has been re-elected and served continuously to the present time. it is a requisite that members shall have been residents in the northwest prior to . the following have been presidents of the association, the term of service being limited to one year: . d. b. loomis. . christopher carli. . w. t. boutwell. . john d. ludden. . henry l. moss. . wm. r. marshall. . daniel mears. . henry a. jackman. . w. h. c. folsom. . edward w. durant. . albert stimson. . henry n. setzer. . morton s. wilkinson. the annual meetings are held on or about the middle of september, at stillwater. newspaper history in ramsey county. the st. paul _weekly pioneer_, established by james m. goodhue as the _minnesota pioneer_, issued its first number april , , one day later than the st. paul _register_, but, unlike that paper, it was printed in the place of publication. in march, , earl s. goodrich purchased the _pioneer_, and on may st issued the first number of the _daily pioneer_. on oct. , , the _democrat_ was merged in the _pioneer_, which became the _pioneer and democrat_, which name it continued to bear for six years, when it resumed its former name, the _pioneer_. nov. , , the _pioneer_ was sold to h. p. hall and john x. davidson. july , , the _pioneer_ was sold to capt. h. l. carver, c. w. nash and others. april , , the _pioneer_ became the property of david blakely. april , , the _pioneer_ and _press_ consolidated, and the name was changed to st. paul _pioneer press_, under the management of the pioneer press company, with j. a. wheelock editor-in-chief. the _pioneer press_ now embodies, by consolidation, twenty-five distinct newspapers. its daily issue is about , copies. the stock company is now officered by j. a. wheelock, president; f. driscoll, sr., vice president and treasurer; f. driscoll, jr., secretary. the management is in the hands of j. a. wheelock, editor-in-chief; f. a. carle, managing editor; f. driscoll, business manager; a. w. dunn, city editor. the st. paul _globe_ was established jan. , , by h. p. hall, and conducted as an individual enterprise until july , , when it was made into a stock company with a capital of $ , . its first officers were: president, h. h. sibley; vice president, p. h. kelly; treasurer, albert scheffer; secretary, ansel oppenheim; general manager, h. p. hall. this company, which was called the st. paul globe printing company, was sold to a new company, styled the st. paul globe publishing company, feb. , . the first officers of that company were: president, n. w. kittson; vice president, p. h. kelly; treasurer, albert scheffer; secretary and general manager, lewis baker. all the officers of each company were resident in st. paul. the _globe_ publishes daily and weekly editions. the st. paul _dispatch_ was founded by h. p. hall and david ramaley, feb. , . it has passed through many ownerships. the company publish a weekly and evening daily paper. the st. paul _daily times_ was established in , by t. m. newson, m. j. clum and j. b. h. mitchell. in it was merged into the st. paul _press_. the _register_, _chronicle_ and _democrat_ were published in territorial days, and have been discontinued. _die volkszeitung_, the first german paper of st. paul, was established in . another german paper was subsequently established, and the two were consolidated, sept. , , as _die volkszeitung_. it issues daily and weekly editions. chas. h. lineau is general manager, a. wolff, editor-in-chief; c. newhausen, city editor, and louis hern, literary editor. the _northwest magazine_ is a monthly journal, devoted to the interests of the northwest. it was established in . e. v. smalley is the editor. other st. paul publications. _a. o. u. w. guide_, weekly guide publishing company, established . _pythian advocate_, monthly, pythian company, established . _northwestern chronicle_, weekly (catholic), northwestern publishing company, established . _herald_, weekly, chantler & nichols, established . _der wanderer_ (german), weekly, wanderer publishing company, established . _familien zeitung_ (german), weekly, engel-dreis company, established . _le canadien_ (french), weekly, e. r. dufresne, l. n. dixon, established . _nordvesten_ (scandinavian), weekly, c. h. brandt, established . _skaffaren_ (swedish lutheran), weekly, j. e. osborn, established . _northwestern lancet_, semi-monthly, c. b. witherle, established . _northwest reporter_ (legal), weekly, west publishing company, established . _saturday evening news_, weekly, lewis & bole, established . _western appeal_, weekly, f. d. parker, established . _home gazette_, monthly, s. sherin, established . st. paul _daily evening news_, established . st. paul _labor echo_, eric olson, established . white bear _lake breeze_, a. h. s. perkins, established . hennepin county. the first paper established in hennepin county as now bounded was the st. anthony _express_, e. tyler, publisher, isaac atwater, editor. the first number was issued may , . the minneapolis _democrat_ was established in . neither of these papers is to be found in the directory. papers of minneapolis. _evening journal_, daily, d. b. blakely, established . _evening mercury_, daily, e. ferwald, established . minneapolis _gazette_, daily, w. bickley, established . minneapolis _tribune_, daily, will e. haskell, tribune publishing company, established . _commercial bulletin_, weekly, commercial publishing company, established . minneapolis _life_, weekly, w. e. atkins, established in . _saturday evening spectator_, weekly, c. h. dubois, established . _temperance review_, weekly, l. bixby, established . _budstikken_ (norwegian), johann e. gidde, established . _folkebladt_ (norwegian), weekly, folkebladt publishing company, established . _svenska posten_ (swedish), weekly, svenska-american publishing company, established . _svenska tidning_ (swedish), weekly, svenska publishing company, established . _svenska kistna herolden_, weekly, svenska herolden publishing company, established . _herold_ (german), weekly, german press association, established . _freie presse_ (german), weekly, f. doerr, established . _le progres_ (french), weekly, j. b. a. paradis, established . _echo de l'ouest_ (french), weekly, a. f. carrier, established . _free baptist_, weekly, a. a. smith, established . _northwestern standard_, weekly, ed. o'brien, established . _northwestern presbyterian_, weekly, edgar a. gay, established . _our church_ (unitarian), semi-monthly, rev. l. d. boynton, established . _farm, stock and home journal_, monthly, farm, stock and home company, established . _mississippi valley lumberman_, weekly, platt b. walker, established . _northwestern miller_, weekly, c. m. palmer, established . _northwestern trade_, bi-weekly, e. e. haynes, established . _homestead_, monthly, homestead publishing company, established . _housekeeper_, monthly, buckeye publishing company, established . _medical mirror_, monthly, n. m. cook, m.d., established . _northwestern architect_, monthly, bruce & brundage, established . _pilgrim_ (congregational), monthly, pilgrim publishing company, established . _poultry and farm journal_, monthly, i. i. bachellor, established . _real estate review_, monthly, c. h. dubois & co., established . _temperance educator_, monthly, l. bigby, established . _to-day_ (evangelical), geo. f. wells, a. s. edwards, established . _wood and iron_, monthly, wood and iron publishing company, established . _methodist herald_, weekly, r. h. young, established . excelsior. minnetonka _mirror_, weekly, w. h. mitchell, established . _northwestern tourist_, weekly, a. s. dimond & son, established . washington county. the first newspaper published in washington county was the st. croix _union_, established oct. , , in stillwater. it was continued under the management of cable & easton one year, when f. s. cable sold out to milton h. abbott. soon after mr. abbott bought out the interest of m. s. easton. the paper went down in the crash of . the stillwater _messenger_ made its appearance under the management of a. t. van voorhes, sept. , . it changed ownership several times, and in seward & taylor, the present owners, came into possession. the stillwater _democrat_ succeeded the defunct _union_ in . l. f. spaulding and c. p. lane became the editors and proprietors. it was discontinued in . a. b. easton and j. n. castle established the stillwater _gazette_, the first number appearing aug. , . this paper was successful from the first, and with but few changes in proprietorship is published at the present day as a daily and weekly by clewell & easton. the stillwater _lumberman_ was established april , , by ed. h. folsom. it afterward passed into the hands of a stock company, and was discontinued in . the stillwater _post_, a german paper, was established by w. p. shilling & co. aug. , . two years later it passed into the hands of wm. schermuly, and in it was taken charge of by julius duel, who is succeeded by f. c. neumeier. chisago county. taylor's falls _reporter_, f. h. pratt, established february, ; in the name was changed to taylor's falls _monitor_; in the name was again changed to taylor's falls _journal_; present editor, ed. h. folsom. rush city _pos._, hial p. robie, established in . chisago county _times_, taylor's falls, rowe & walker, established april , . pine county--pine city. _pine county pioneer_, weekly, ed. c. gottry, established . carlton county--cloquet. _pine knot_, weekly, dr. h. b. allen, established . _industrial vidette_, established . st. louis county--duluth. _tribune_, weekly and daily, r. c. mitchell, established . _lake superior news_, weekly, wm. s. woodbridge, established . duluth _daily news_, established . duluth _skandinav_, wesenbergad hurst, established . _paragrapher_, established . _volksfreund_, dworsehak & son, established . _evening journal_, established . tower. tower _press_, c. t. bingham, established . two harbors. _iron post_, a. de lacy wood, established . aitkin county--aitkin. aitkin _age_, weekly, e. f. barrett, established . crow wing county--brainerd. brainerd _dispatch_, weekly, ingersoll & willard, established . brainerd _journal_, weekly, h. c. stivers, established . _northwestern tribune_, weekly, halsted & pennell, . the _news_, daily, established . kanabec county--mora. mora _times_, weekly, r. w. safford, established . mille lacs county--princeton. princeton _union_, weekly, r. c. dunn, established . morrison county--little falls. little falls _sun_, weekly, little falls publishing company, cyrus d. auyer, editor, established . little falls _transcript_, weekly, w. m. fuller, established . _morrison county democrat_, weekly, cyrus d. auyer, established . royalton. royalton _record_, weekly, changed name to royalton _banner_, a. w. swanson, editor, established . the first newspaper in morrison county was the _northern herald_, established in little falls, , suspended in . the little falls _courier_ was established later, but discontinued and the _transcript_ took its place. stearns county--melrose and sauk centre. _herald and record_, weekly, c. f. hendryx, established . sauk centre. _democrat_, weekly, barnum and henshaw, established . _tribune_, weekly, w. c. brower, established . st. cloud. _der nordstern_ (german), weekly, rosenberger & remer, established . _journal-press_, weekly; w. mitchell, established . _times_, weekly, c. f. medonald, established . the first paper in st. cloud, and in stearns county, was styled the _minnesota advertiser_. the first number appeared jan. , , h. cowles, editor, and james mowatt, publisher. mrs. jane g. swisshelm succeeded to the proprietorship in december, , and changed the name to the st. cloud _visitor_, and edited it till the destruction of her press and material by a mob, march , . the paper reappeared under new auspices and with the name changed to the _democrat_. in w. b. mitchell changed the name to the _journal_. in he purchased the _press_ and consolidated it under the name of _journal-press_. the st. cloud _union_ was established in , by c. c. andrews, afterward a general in the union army and minister to sweden and norway. in mr. wood purchased the paper, but sold it in to spafford & simonton, who sold it in to r. c. moore, who published it as the st. cloud _times_. in it was purchased by the present owner, c. f. mcdonald. the _nordstern_ was originally established by peter e. kaiser and peter brieke and has now a circulation of , copies. sherburne county--elk river. _sherburne county star news_, weekly, a. n. dare, established . a. j. clark started the sherburne _weekly_ in , and published it one year, when john w. thompson started the elk river _news_. the _sherburne county star_ was established in , and consolidated with the _news_ in . isanti county--cambridge. _isanti county press_, weekly, c. w. van wormer, established . benton county. watab _reveille_, weekly, j. w. chasanack, editor, established . _free press_, weekly, a. de lacy wood, established . in jeremiah russell and george w. benedict started the sauk rapids _frontiersman_, and continued the publication three years, when the _new era_ made its appearance, published by w. h. wood assisted by g. w. benedict. the _era_ was afterward merged in the st. cloud _times_. in g. w. benedict established the sauk river _sentinel_ which, with a few changes, has continued to the present time. anoka county--anoka. _anoka county union_, weekly, granville s. pease, established . _anoka county herald_, weekly, alvah eastman, established. . dakota county--farmington. _dakota county tribune_, weekly, c. p. carpenter, established . hastings _news_, daily, d. f. chamberlain, established . hastings _banner_, weekly, e. d. barker, established . hastings _gazette_, weekly, irving todd, established . hastings _bugle call_, monthly, chamberlain & smith, established . goodhue county--cannon river falls. _beacon_, weekly, s. s. lewis, established . kenyon. _leader_, weekly, u. curtis, established . pine island. _journal_, weekly, holmes & ingalls, established . red wing. red wing _republican_, daily, red wing publishing company, established . red wing _advance sun_, weekly, red wing publishing company, established . red wing _argus_, weekly, c. l. davis, established . zumbrota. _independent_, weekly, e. a. mitchell, established . _news_, weekly, thompson & bradford, established . wabasha county--mazeppa. _tribune_, weekly, m. schrane, established . plainview. _news_, weekly, ed. a. paradis, established . _wabasha county herald_, weekly, o. f. collier &.co., established . _wabasha county post_, weekly, john p. w. weller, established . winona county--st. charles. st. charles _union_, weekly, j. s. whitten, established . winona _republican_, daily and weekly, sinclair publishing company, established . _adler_, weekly, adler publishing company, established . _herald_, weekly, boynton & metcalf, established . _westlicher herald_, weekly, joseph leicht, established . _wiarus_ (polish), weekly, wiarus publishing company, established . newspapers in wisconsin. pierce county--ellsworth. _pierce county herald_, weekly, case & doolittle, established . _ariel_, weekly, john m. pryse, established . _pierce county plaindealer_, weekly, e. h. ives, established . river falls. _journal_, weekly, s. b. merrick. w. s. fowler, established . the first paper named in prescott was the _paraclete_, published by c. e. young, feb. , . the name was changed in to the _transcript_. in the _northwestern democrat_ was issued by lusk, wise & bailey. in lute a. taylor moved the river falls _journal_ to prescott, changing the name to prescott _journal_. in flint & webber purchased the _journal_. in , after the fire, the river falls _journal_ was revived at river falls by a. morse; the office and material were burned. in m. b. kimball issued the prescott _clarion_ and changed the name to _pierce county plaindealer_. in e. h. ives became editor and proprietor. st. croix county--baldwin. _bulletin_, weekly, ferd. peachman, established . hammond. _hammond review_, weekly, ---- frost, established . hudson. _star and times_, weekly, taylor & price, established . _true republican_, weekly, cline & cogswell, established . new richmond. _st. croix republican_, weekly, abe c. van meter, established . the _voice_, weekly, e. p. huntington, established . the _st. croix banner_, the first paper in the st. croix valley, was issued jan. , , by col. and mrs. james hughes. it was printed in the _pioneer_ office, st. paul. saxton & johnson in the same year commenced publishing the _st. croix enquirer_. these papers were short-lived. in u. b. shaver started the hudson _journal_, afterward edited by col. hughes as the hudson _republican_. the office was destroyed by fire and the paper discontinued in . the _star_ was established by dr. otis hoyt in , and in the same year u. b. shaver established the _chronicle_. in these two papers were purchased by horace a. taylor, and consolidated as the _star and times_. in col. hughes issued the _shield and banner_, which was succeeded by a campaign paper called the _pathfinder_. the hudson _democrat_ was established in by e. o. jones and discontinued in . the _true republican_ was established by m. a. fulton in , and sold to the present owners in . polk county--clear lake. clear lake _herald_, weekly, a. t. churchill, established . _north wisconsin news_, weekly, johnson e. russell. osceola mills. _polk county press_, weekly, charles e. mears, established . st. croix falls. _st. croix valley standard_, weekly, george f. ely, established . the _st. croixian_ was first established at st. croix in by john d. reymert and junius bartlett. s. s. fifield bought the paper in , and removed it to osceola, changing the name to _polk county press_. in c. f. meara succeeded to the ownership. in c. c. jordan established the _new era_ at osceola, but soon discontinued it. the _dalles of the st. croix_ was established at st. croix falls in by d. a. caneday, and discontinued in . the _polk county news_ was established at st. croix falls in by george h. ely, who was succeeded by l. a. ingersoll, who changed the name to _st. croix valley standard_. barron county--barron. _barron county shield_, weekly, charles s. taylor, established . chetek. _alert_, weekly, walter speed, established . cumberland. _advocate_, weekly, cumberland publishing company, established . rice lake. _barron county chronotype_, weekly, p. h. swift, editor, established . _times_, weekly, times publishing company, established . sawyer county--haywood. _north wisconsin news_, weekly, e. o. johnson, established . burnett county--grantsburg. _burnett county sentinel_, weekly, w. a. talboy, established . ashland county--ashland. ashland _press_, weekly and daily, sam s. fifield, established . ashland _news_, weekly, john s. saul, established . glidden. glidden _pioneer_, weekly, r. m. williams, f. a. healy, established . hurley. _montreal river miner_, weekly, gowdey & goodale, established . bayfield county--bayfield. bayfield _press_, weekly, currie g. bell, established . washburn. washburn _bee_, weekly, allan t. williams, established . _itemizer_, weekly, bareger brothers, established . douglas county--superior. superior _chronicle_, john c. wise, established -. superior _times_, bardon brothers, established . _inter ocean_, weekly and daily, street & co., established . superior _sentinel_, m. b. kimball, established . _sunday morning call_, established . washburn county. shell lake _watchman_, william irle, established . an odd chapter in political history--the black hawk war. gen. winfield scott, when a young man, was stationed at fort snelling, at that day perhaps the remotest outpost of the united states. when the black hawk war was inaugurated some militia from illinois proffered their services to aid in conquering the savages. with a view to mustering them into the service of the united states two lieutenants were sent by scott to the then village of dixon. one of these was a very fascinating, good-looking, easy-mannered, affable, and fluent young gentleman. the other equally pleasant, but an exceedingly modest young man. on the morning when the mustering in was to take place a tall, gawky, slab-sided, homely young man, dressed in a suit of home-made blue jeans, presented himself to the two lieutenants as the captain of the recruits, and was duly sworn in. this was he who afterward became the president of the united states--the lamented lincoln. one of the lieutenants, the modest youth, was he who fired the first gun from sumter, maj. anderson. the other, and he who administered the oath, was in after years president of the southern confederacy, jefferson davis. an early runaway match. we have gleaned from the newspapers the particulars of a love romance in which jefferson davis was the central figure. it was down at old fort crawford, whose ruins are still to be seen just south of prairie du chien. it was away back in , when ex-president zachariah taylor, then a colonel in the regular army, was commandant of the post. jeff. davis, who was then a young lieutenant, was assigned to duty under col. taylor, and fell in love with his commander's beautiful daughter. the love making between the young people was the most natural thing in the world under the circumstances, but for some reason col. taylor had taken the most intense dislike to the young lieutenant and frowned upon his suit. in order to prevent his daughter from marrying davis the grim old warrior sent her to a convent at baton rouge. some months afterward the young lieutenant appeared before col. taylor with a document which required his signature. it was an order from gen. wayne granting a furlough to davis. old zach. understood human nature well enough to know that when young davis got his leave of absence he would take a bee line for baton rouge, so he immediately dispatched his swiftest messenger to bring his daughter home by the most circuitous route, and thus thwart the young officer, who he knew would be hurrying to meet her. when davis returned to fort crawford the coldness between himself and his old commander grew more frigid, while the young woman pined away in the seclusion of a log hut, where her father had established his headquarters, until at last she was released from her imprisonment by her lover, who took her from her father's roof by stealth and in the night, and taking her across the river to a spot where a priest was in waiting, they were made man and wife. george green, an old river man, now eighty years old, who still lives at prairie du chien, is the person who rowed them over the river that night. he says that davis took the young woman from an upper window in the log cabin and by the assistance of the chaplain was able to get her beyond the picket lines unobserved. green was at the river bank in waiting with a canoe and took them to the spot where the marriage ceremony was performed. he says the young lady cried a good deal during the voyage across the river, but she leaned her head on the young lieutenant's bosom in a way that assured him that she was not altogether unhappy. soon after the marriage a steamboat from st. paul came down the river and by a preconcerted arrangement halted, took the bridal couple on board and passed on down the mississippi to jeff. davis' home in the south. gen. taylor never did forgive davis for marrying his daughter. he never spoke to him from that time until the evening after the close of the battle of buena vista. jeff. davis had undoubtedly won the battle with his mississippi rifles, and as he lay wounded in his tent that night gen. taylor walked in, extended his hand in friendly greeting and thanked him for his gallant services. but there was no further attempt at reconciliation after that. mrs. davis did not live long, and the lady who now presides over beauvoir is mr. davis' second wife. she was a miss howell, of georgia. dred scott at fort snelling. the following incident connected with the famous dred scott case, taken from a st. paul paper of , may prove of interest to the present generation of readers, few of whom are aware that the principal personage in the case was a resident of fort snelling, or more exactly speaking, the chattel of an american officer at that place: in the year the fifth united states infantry was stationed on the upper mississippi and wisconsin rivers, and, although fort crawford (prarie du chien) was their headquarters, fort snelling was the most important, it being the only military post north of prairie du chien, between lake superior and the pacific ocean, and far from the frontier, as the nearest settlement was several hundred miles away. during the season of open water the post was reached by boats, and in the winter by pony or dog trains, but in the spring before the river was free of floating ice and in the fall before it was frozen, the inhabitants were almost cut off from civilization, as the place was considered inaccessible, by all but the hardy voyageur and the postman, who brought the mail on his back twice a month from prairie du chien. fort snelling was the only post office in what is now minnesota, dakota and montana. it was seldom that a stranger made his appearance after the close of navigation, for the timid did not venture so far from the comforts of life. during the winter the weather was severe, the houses were not so comfortable as now, storm windows and furnaces were unthought of, and stoves were considered luxuries. it happened that on a cold, dreary day in the early winter the quartermaster was distributing stoves, but did not have more than enough to supply the officers and the married men of the command, and not all of the latter. the surgeon, dr. emerson, a giant in body, applied for one for his slave, dred scott, but was told by lieut. mcphail, the quartermaster, who was a man under size, that the darkey would have to wait until the others were supplied, and it was doubtful if there were enough for all. the doctor became very much excited and insinuated that mcphail was lying, whereupon the latter hit the doctor between the eyes, breaking his spectacles and bruising his nose. emerson, very much infuriated, rushed to his quarters, loaded a pair of huge flintlock pistols, returned to mcphail, who was unarmed, and without ceremony presented them to the head of the little quartermaster. he, not liking their looks, sought safety in flight, and with a speed that showed a good condition of body ran across the parade ground, followed by the doctor. as they neared mcphail's company quarters a friend of his, lieut. whitall, and a sergeant, seized firearms and prepared to give their assistance if it was needed. the commanding officer, maj. plympton, armed with a cane, ran after the doctor, and upon overtaking him put him under arrest. by this time the occupants of all the quarters had gathered upon the scene, too excited to feel the cold or think of stoves, and two parties were quickly formed. the smaller party consisted of the young men, who, anxious for a fight, insisted that by running mcphail had brought disgrace upon himself which could be wiped out only by blood. the other and influential side was composed of men with families, who knew that in case of illness no other physician could be had except from prairie du chien, and the roads were such that it might be impossible to get one at all; therefore they urged peace, and after several days of excitement they were able to unfurl the flag of triumph. the terms of settlement between the belligerents were not made known, and those who had hoped for a fight felt that the secrecy added largely to their already heavy disappointment; but the men of peace wore an expression of relief when they realized that if ill, their victory would enable them to obtain the immediate services of the doctor, and that there would not be a repetition of the duel which had been fought there many years before, the first and last duel ever fought in minnesota. although peace was declared, bitter feelings which had risen during the strife still lingered in the heads of all but dred scott, the innocent cause of the trouble, who for the first time in his life became at all conspicuous. shortly after, however, his name was as well known, and oftener heard in social, military and political circles than any other, not only in his own country, but abroad. he left fort snelling with dr. emerson, and was afterward in missouri, where he was one day whipped, as he had often been before. but this proved to be the last time the poor fellow intended submitting as a slave, for immediately after a suit was commenced for assault and battery, claiming that as he had been in a free territory he was a free man. his master dying, his widow and daughter defended the suit, which was decided in their favor two days after the inauguration of president buchanan, and dred scott was remanded to slavery. this was considered a great victory for the south, but in reality was not, for the civilized world became aroused in behalf of freedom, and public opinion, the higher law, was invoked. civil war soon followed; slavery was abolished, and dred scott made free. it was half a century ago that this simple-minded negro lived in slavery in hennepin, the historic county of minnesota. old betz and the st. paul tribe of indians. no history of the early days would be complete without mention of the celebrated and picturesquely homely squaw known as old betz and the tribe to which she belonged. the camp of the latter may still be seen at south st. paul to the number of three or four tepees. the indians are the descendants of the warriors of little crow. they live in canvas tepees of primitive style, but with the exception of moccasins and a few indian trinkets they have conformed somewhat to the costumes of the civilized people around them. the indians living in this vicinity, says a. l. larpenteur in the _pioneer press_, represent a remnant of the minnesota sioux who were not taken to the reservation after the massacre of . there may be nearly a score of families in all, including the inhabitants of the little indian village at south st. paul, the aboriginal residents at mendota, and some red men living near newport. these are mostly descendants of the members of little crow's band. three or four families have descended from the famous old squaw known as "old betz," who died at an advanced age only two years ago. at least two of old betz's daughters are living. they are very large, fleshy squaws, and are frequently seen on the streets of st. paul. when you catch sight of a big squaw with a heavy pack slung over her shoulders, seated in some doorway down street panting for breath, you may make up your mind that it is one of old betz's daughters--either doo-to-win (scarlet female) or pa-zen-ta-win (medicine woman); for such are their names. they obtain a livelihood suitable to their lingering aboriginal tastes and their condition of life, by selling moccasins, ginseng and wild flowers in their season, and the skins of animals which they hunt or trap. these skins are chiefly muskrat skins. they bring several hundred to market in the course of the season. then the squaws do the begging, and the great white packs which these dusky females carry upon their backs as they trudge along the streets of the city are filled with specked fruit, tainted chickens and meat, dried up cranberries and other unsalable stuff that the commission men of the city have kindly bestowed upon them. an indian is not so particular about what he eats as a white person. when meat is tainted he boils it until he gets all the taint out. what remains serves as savory sauce for the meat. the indians are intelligent. they don't have much to say to strangers, but among themselves they are quite sociable, and sit together by the hour smoking pipes and recounting traditions and incidents. they are very fond of story telling. they also discuss topics of interest with a freedom and intelligence worthy of a modern white man's debating society. "i have sat with them in their lodges by the hour," says mr. larpenteur, "and have been vastly entertained by their anecdotes and discussions." so it appears that the indians hereabout are not so glum and reticent as red men in general are credited with being. there are a great many people in st. paul who remember old betz, and the stories that were told in relation to her, quite well. she was said to be one hundred and twenty years old when she died, and, as there was no evidence to the contrary, and she certainly bore the mark of great age, this estimate of her years was generally accepted. mr. larpenteur has reason for thinking that her age has been very much exaggerated. old betz told him one day, a short time before her death, in a confidential way, that when soldiers first came to fort snelling she was still in her teens. that was in , and, therefore, old betz could not have been over eighty-eight when she died. footnotes: [f] note.--the wah-tap--or wa-tab--empties from the west into the mississippi just above sauk rapids--h. m. r. [g] the rejection of thomas p. burnett as a member of the council, by gov. dodge, created great excitement at the time, and the governor was severely criticised for his action. in making the apportionment the governor had made crawford county a district, but had left it without a representative in the council, although two had been assigned to the house, the governor claiming that this was equivalent to one in the senate and one in the house. his action, to say the least, was curious and unprecedented. [h] jean brunet was of french extraction. he made the first manufacturing improvements at chippewa falls. [i] alexander mcgregor, a scotchman, built a large hotel in prairie du chien, and located a claim on the western side of the mississippi rivers opposite which has become the site of the city of mcgregor. in the third session of the territorial legislature he was elected to represent the dubuque district, and charges were preferred against him of accepting a bribe. pending the investigation of the charges he resigned, removed to the east side of the river and was elected to represent the crawford district. the ensuing session, the house, by resolution, declared him unworthy of confidence. [j] the loan amendment was approved by gov. medary, through his private secretary, march , . the amendment was adopted by the people april , , by a vote of , to , . the amount of bonds issued was $ , , . the expunging resolution was adopted nov. , , by a popular vote of , to . [k] rev mr. webber was born in the state of new york in ; was educated for the ministry ordained and sent to minnesota as a missionary by the calvinistic baptist church. he came to stillwater in . he is now a resident of fleming, cayuga county, new york. addenda. a history of the northwest that would omit any mention of the war of the rebellion would be an unfinished work. it was the original intention of the author of this work to add a military history in which should be placed upon record not only some statistics as to the number of troops contributed to the united states service from the parts of minnesota and wisconsin lying along the mississippi river, but some account of incidents connected with the war, which the citizens of the valley would take pride in perusing. the plan was abandoned reluctantly on account of the want of space for such a record. we are able to furnish a synopsis of the military history of minnesota taken from a recent address made by ex-gov. ramsey before the loyal legion at st. paul. it is doubly interesting, coming as it does from the governor of the state during the earlier portion of the war: ex-gov. alexander ramsey was called upon to respond to the toast, "minnesota and the war; for god, our country and the right." he said: "amid the many evidences of harmony and prosperity in all sections of the great republic it is difficult to realize that the citizens of minnesota, within the memory of many still alive, were called upon to preserve the integrity of the united states of america by the force of arms. "there has ever been a community of interest between our own state, in whose midst are found the sources of the mississippi, and the several states on its borders toward the gulf of mexico; the wheat fields of minnesota, the cotton and sugar plantations of mississippi and louisiana must be inseparable, yet it can not be disguised that a short-sighted statesmanship made a vigorous attempt to separate those whom an all-wise providence had joined together. "in the month of april, , upon official business as governor of minnesota, i was called to the city of washington. the knots of earnest men and anxious faces in the corridors and reading rooms of the hotels indicated a widespread belief that there was an impending peril, a serious conspiracy upon the part of some in the cotton producing and slave holding states to secede from the union, although the general government had never infringed upon their rights under the constitution. "on saturday night, april th, the population of washington was deeply moved by the intelligence that fort sumter in the harbor of charleston had been attacked by insurgents, and that the garrison had surrendered. "early sunday morning, accompanied by two citizens of minnesota, i visited the war department, and found the secretary with his hat on and papers in his hand about to leave his office. i said 'my business is simply as governor of minnesota to tender a thousand men to defend the government.' 'sit down immediately,' he replied, 'and write the tender you have made, as i am now on my way to the president's mansion.' "this was quickly done, and thus minnesota became the first to cheer the president by offers of assistance in the crisis which had arrived. "my action and the acceptance of this offer were dispatched to st. paul, and in a few days companies in the different towns in minnesota were being organized, and on the twenty-seventh of the month adjt. gen. john b. sanborn issued an order that more companies had been organized than were necessary to complete the first regiment of minnesota, and on the third of may, having returned to st. paul during april, i sent a telegram to the president offering a second regiment. "on the twenty-first of june the first regiment, under col. gorman, left fort snelling, and in one month, on sunday, the twenty-first of july, distinguished itself as the advance of heintzleman's division in the battle of bull run, virginia. the second regiment, in command of col. h. p. van cleve, a graduate of west point, left fort snelling in october, and on the nineteenth of january was in close conflict with the enemy near mill springs, kentucky, gen. zollicoffer and other insurgent officers having fallen under their fire. a third regiment, under col. h. c. lester, left the state in november, , and a fourth regiment, under col. john b. sanborn, was soon organized, and not long after a fifth, under col. borgersrode, was formed. in the spring of , within a few weeks of each other, the last two left for the seat of war, and were assigned to the army of the mississippi, and before the close of may were, with their comrades of the second, in the action at corinth. "but while minnesota was thus rapidly sending forth her able bodied men, she was called upon to endure a trial greater than any of her sister states. on the nineteenth of august there rushed into the governor's office at the capitol a dusty and exhausted messenger who had been fifteen hours in the saddle with dispatches from galbraith, the sioux agent, containing the startling intelligence that the sioux had risen and were murdering the settlers and plundering and burning their houses. an hour or two later another messenger arrived from forest city with information that the sioux had also killed many whites at acton. it was evident that there was a general uprising, and that no time was to be lost. "i immediately proceeded to fort snelling and consulted as to the best measures to protect our people. here were only raw recruits, without arms or clothing, but at length four companies of the sixth regiment were organized, and that night sent up the minnesota river to shakopee, and ex-gov. h. h. sibley, who had had a long acquaintance with the sioux, was placed in command. "from that point they were directed to proceed by land. telegrams were sent to president lincoln and the governors of wisconsin, iowa, illinois, and michigan relative to the horrible outbreak and asking for aid. "when the troops reached st. peter they were delayed in moulding balls to fit their arms and in preparing canister shot. by september portions of the third regiment, which had returned to the state, and the sixth and seventh regiments, which had been organized, were in the field, and on the twenty-third of the month had a battle with the indians at wood lake, lieut. col. marshall, of the seventh regiment, your late commander of this legion, leading five companies of his own and two of the sixth in a successful charge, clearing a ravine of hostile savages. "never before in the history of the republic had so many settlers fallen from indian barbarity. in ten days in august about eight hundred white men, women and children were killed, and at least , persons fled from the scalping knife to st. paul and other places of security. "during the summer of the eighth, ninth and tenth minnesota regiments of volunteers were organized. in january, , having been elected to represent the state in the united states senate, lieut. gov. swift on and after the tenth of july acted as governor for the unexpired term, who was succeeded by gov. stephen h. miller, both of whom, in every way possible, sustained the general government. "minnesota during the war had surely not more than , citizens able to bear arms. she furnished eleven regiments of infantry, one of heavy artillery, three batteries of light artillery, four cavalry organizations and two companies of sharpshooters, and official returns show that she contributed , soldiers in all." mention of george h. hazzard, of st. paul, unintentionally omitted from the body of the work, is appended below. [illustration: george h. hazzard.] george h. hazzard is one of st. paul's wide awake, energetic young men. he is a native of the state of new york. he came to the west when a youth and located in st. paul in . he has been engaged in general agencies and real estate, and has served as county commissioner of ramsey county and filled other city positions in st. paul. he was a member of the methodist general conference in new york city in . he married a daughter of rev. benjamin f. hoyt, of st. paul. legislative representatives of the st. croix valley--wisconsin side. thirty-eighth session, --senators: hans b. warner, joel f. nason. house: thomas porter, james johnson, charles s. thayer, frank m. nye. thirty-ninth session, --first biennial session--senate: joel f. nason, william a. rust. house: j. b. thayer, john a. murphy, h. l. humphrey, james n. mccourt, charles s. taylor. [illustration: eat more nuts carl weschcke author] growing nuts in the north a personal story of the author's experience of years with nut culture in minnesota and wisconsin. includes his failures as well as final successes. scientific as well as readable for the amateur horticulturist with many illustrations. tells how to grow and to propagate nut bearing trees and shrubs. by carl weschcke published webb publishing co. st. paul, minnesota, u.s.a. copyright carl weschcke st. paul, minnesota introduction growing nuts in the north only a few books have been written on the subject of nut trees and their bearing habits, and very little of that material applies to their propagation in cold climates. for these reasons i am relating some of the experiences i have had in the last thirty-two years in raising nut trees in wisconsin. to me, this has been a hobby with results both practical and ornamental far beyond my original conception. i hope that the information i am giving will be of help and interest to those who, like myself, enjoy having nut-bearing trees in their dooryards, and that it will prevent their undergoing the failures and disappointments i sometimes met with in pioneering along this line. since my purpose is to give advice and assistance to those whose interest parallels mine by relating my successes and failures and what i learned from each, i have included only those details of technique which are pertinent. it is a fine thing to have a hobby that takes one out-of-doors. that in itself suggests healthful thought and living. the further association of working with trees, as with any living things, brings one into the closest association with nature and god. i hope this book may help someone achieve that attitude of life, in which i have found such great pleasure and inner satisfaction. anyone wishing to make a planting of a few nut trees in his dooryard or a small orchard planting should join the northern nut growers' association. this association can be joined by writing the current secretary, but since that office may be changed from time to time, persons applying for membership should write george l. slate of geneva experiment station, geneva, new york, or dr. h. l. crane, principal horticulturist, u. s. department of agriculture, bureau of plant industry, beltsville, maryland, or the author. the first president was dr. robert t. morris, new york city, n. y., - , the association being founded by dr. w. c. deming of westchester, new york, who called the first meeting in . each year a report was printed of the proceedings of the annual meeting and exclusive of the meeting, the reports which are in substantial book form number forty-two. most of these reports can be obtained by writing to the secretary, the total library of these reports constituting one of the best authorities for nut tree planting in the northern hemisphere of the united states than any extant. the author acknowledges with thanks the consistent encouraging praise from his father, charles weschcke, of the work involved in nut growing experiments, also for his financial assistance, thus making the publication of this book possible and available to readers at a nominal price. the editor of the greater part of this book, allison burbank hartman (a descendent of the great luther burbank), is entitled to great praise and thanks for the interest and work she put forth. grateful acknowledgment is made to william kuehn, the artist. he had been associated with the author in boy scout work, also became a part of the nut growing experiments in northern wisconsin, which work was interrupted by world war ii. acknowledgment is hereby made with gratitude to dr. j. w. mckay of the u. s. department of agriculture, washington, d. c.; harry weber of cincinnati, ohio; ford wilkinson, rockport, ind.; fayette etter, lehmasters, pa.; dr. w. c. deming, litchfield, conn.; clarence a. reed, washington, d. c.; dr. j. russell smith, swarthmore, pa.; george s. slate, urbana, ill.; herman last, steamboat rock, iowa, and many other professors and horticulturists who lent their time and effort assisting me in my experiments throughout the years. and last but not least, the author is indebted to his secretary, dorothy downie, for tireless efforts in re-writing the manuscript many times which was necessary in compiling this book. growing nuts in the north contents introduction chapter first encounters chapter first attempts chapter black walnuts chapter hazels and filberts chapter hazels and/or filberts chapter pecans and their hybrids chapter hickory the king chapter butternut chapter pioneering with english walnuts in wisconsin chapter other trees chapter pests and pets chapter storing and planting seeds chapter tree planting methods chapter winter protection of grafts and seedlings chapter tree storage chapter suggestions on grafting methods chapter grafting tape versus raffia chapter effects of grafting on unlike stocks chapter distinguishing characteristics of scions chapter hybridizing chapter toxicity among trees and plants conclusion chapter first encounters almost everyone can remember from his youth, trips made to gather nuts. those nuts may have been any of the various kinds distributed throughout the united states, such as the butternut, black walnut, beechnut, chestnut, hickory, hazel or pecan. i know that i can recall very well, when i was a child and visited my grandparents in new ulm and st. peter, in southern minnesota, the abundance of butternuts, black walnuts and hazels to be found along the roads and especially along the minnesota and cottonwood river bottoms. since such nut trees were not to be found near springfield, where my parents lived, which was just a little too far west, i still associate my first and immature interest in this kind of horticulture with those youthful trips east. the only way we children could distinguish between butternut and black walnut trees was by the fruit itself, either on the tree or shaken down. this is not surprising, however, since these trees are closely related, both belonging to the family _juglans_. the black walnut is known as _juglans nigra_ and the butternut or white walnut as _juglans cinera_. the similarity between the trees is so pronounced that the most experienced horticulturist may confuse them if he has only the trees in foliage as his guide. an experience i recently had is quite suggestive of this. i wished to buy some furniture in either black walnut or mahogany and i was hesitating between them. noting my uncertainty, the salesman suggested a suite of french walnut. my curiosity and interest were immediately aroused. i had not only been raising many kinds of walnut trees, but i had also run through my own sawmill, logs of walnut and butternut. i felt that i knew the various species of walnut very thoroughly. so i suggested to him: "you must mean circassian or english walnut, which is the same thing. it grows abundantly in france. you are wrong in calling it french walnut, though, because there is no such species." he indignantly rejected the name i gave it, and insisted that it was genuine french walnut. "perhaps," i advised him, "that is a trade name to cover the real origin, just as plucked muskrat is termed hudson seal." that, too, he denied. we were both insistent. i was sure of my own knowledge and stubborn enough to want to prove him wrong. i pulled a drawer from the dresser of the "french walnut" suite and asked him to compare its weight with that of a similar drawer from a black walnut suite nearby. black walnut weighs forty pounds per cubic foot, while butternut weighs only twenty-five. he was forced to admit the difference and finally allowed my assertion to stand that "french walnut" was butternut, stained and finished to simulate black walnut. since it would have been illegal to claim that it was black walnut, the attractive but meaningless label of "french walnut" had been applied. although it is less expensive, i do not mean to imply that butternut is not an excellent wood for constructing furniture. it ranks high in quality and is probably as durable as black walnut. i do say, though, that it was necessary for me to know both the species names and the relative weights of each wood to be able to distinguish between them indisputably. an instance in which the nuts themselves were useless for purposes of identification occurred when i sent some black walnuts to the division of pomology at washington, d. c. these were the ohio variety which i had grafted on butternut roots. the tree had been bearing for three or four years but this was the first year the nuts had matured. during their bearing period, these black walnuts had gradually changed in appearance, becoming elongated and very deeply and sharply corrugated like butternuts although they still retained the black walnut flavor. because of this mixture of characteristics, the government experts had great difficulty in identifying the variety, although the ohio was well known to them. another variety of black walnut, the thomas, i have also known to be influenced by the butternut stock on which it was grafted, when in , one of my trees bore black walnuts whose meat had lost its characteristic flavor and assumed that of the butternut. [illustration: _a--genuine original ohio black walnut from parent tree_ _b--nut produced by grafting ohio on butternut_] i also liked to pick hazelnuts when i was a boy. these are probably the least interesting among the wild nuts since they are usually small and hard to crack. there is much variation in wild hazels, however, and many people may recall them as being reasonably large. one of the two species abundant in minnesota, _corylus cornuta_ or beak hazel, has fine, needle-like hairs on its husk which are sure to stick into one's fingers disagreeably. when the husk is removed, _corylus cornuta_ resembles a small acorn. it does not produce in southern minnesota and central wisconsin as well as the common hazel, _corylus americana_, does, nor is its flavor as pleasing to most people. it is lighter in color than the common hazel and has a thinner shell. of course, some hazels are intermediate or natural hybrids between these two species, and if the nuts of such hybrids are planted, they generally revert to one of the parents when mature enough to bear. this natural hybridization occurs among all plants, between those of the same species, the same genera or the same family. it is very rare between plants of different families. the process is a very important one in horticulture and i shall explain some of the crosses which are well-known later in this book. chapter first attempts when i was about fifteen years old, my family moved to st. paul, minnesota, where my home now is and where my experimental work with nuts was begun. st. paul is in the th north parallel, but although it is farther north, it is as favorable for the growth of nut trees as new ulm or st. peter, because it lies in the mississippi river valley and is farther east. bodies of water and altitudes have as great an influence on plant life as latitude; at least, they can have, and these are factors that must be understood thoroughly. soil conditions also vitally affect plant life, particularly deep-rooted trees such as nut trees usually are. each has its own requirements; hickory, japanese heartnut and persian walnuts favor an alkaline soil, which chestnuts, wanting acid will not grow in; chestnuts thrive best in a slightly acid, well-drained soil; hazels will grow in either alkaline or acid soil as will black walnuts and butternuts; almonds need a light sandy soil, similar to that suitable to plums, pecans do well in either rich river bottoms, which may be slightly acid, or in clay soil on high hillsides which are alkaline. a deep, sandy or graveltype soil is usually accepted by the chestnuts even though it may not be slightly acid, and successful orchards have been grown on a deep clay soil on hillsides. it is not always easy to obtain black walnuts and butternuts to eat. hickory nuts have been a favorite of mine since i first tasted them and i often have found it difficult to procure fresh ones, ones that were not slightly rancid. because i liked eating these nuts, i thought i would try to grow some for my own consumption and so avoid having to depend on a grocer's occasional supply of those shipped in, always a little stale. raising nuts appealed to me economically too, since obviously trees would need little care, and after they had begun to bear would supply nuts that could be sold at interesting prices. i turned the back yard of my home in st. paul into an experimental plot. here i set out some of each kind of tree i planted or grafted at my farm in wisconsin. i had purchased a farm miles east of st. paul, beyond the influence of the st. croix river valley. my experiments really began there. the farm was covered with butternut trees, hazel bushes, and a wild hickory called "bitternut." this last is well-named for i have never found an animal other than a squirrel that could endure its nuts. possibly the white-footed mouse or deer-mouse could--i don't know. he usually eats anything a squirrel does. i learned to appreciate these bitternut trees later and they became a source of experience and interest to me as i learned to graft on them many varieties, species and hybrids of hickory. they served as a root-system and shortened the length of time required to test dozens of hickory types, helping me in that way, to learn within one lifetime what types of nuts are practical for growing in the north. remembering the nut trees in southern minnesota, i first thought to procure black walnut and hickory trees from some farmer in that district. through acquaintances in st. peter, i did locate some black walnut trees only to find that it was impractical to dig and transport trees of the size i wanted. a nursery near st. paul supplied me with some and i bought twenty-eight large, seedling black walnut trees. i was too eager to get ahead with my plans and i attempted, the first year these trees were planted, to graft all of them. my ability to do this was not equal to my ambition though, and all but two of the trees were killed. i was successful in grafting one of them to a stabler black walnut; the other tree persisted so in throwing out its natural sprouts that i decided it should be allowed to continue doing so. that native seedling tree which i could not graft now furnishes me with bushels of walnuts each year which are planted for understocks. this is the name given to the root systems on which good varieties are grafted. in an effort to replace these lost trees, i inquired at the university of minnesota farm and was given the addresses of several nurserymen who were then selling grafted nut trees. their catalogues were so inviting that i decided it would be quite plausible to grow pecans and english walnuts at this latitude. so i neglected my native trees that year for the sake of more exotic ones. one year sufficed; the death of my whole planting of english walnuts and pecans turned me back to my original interest. my next order of trees included grafted black walnuts of four accepted varieties to be planted in orchard form--the stabler, thomas, ohio and ten eyck. i ordered a few hickories at the same time but these eventually died. my experience with hickories was very discouraging since they were my favorite nuts and i had set my heart on growing some. i think i should have given up attempting them had not one dealer, j. f. jones, urged that i buy just three more hickory trees of the beaver variety. he gave me special instructions on how to prepare them against winter. i have always felt that what he told me was indeed special and very valuable since those three trees lived. subsequently, i bought several hundred dollars worth of trees from him. more than that, we became friends. i visited him at his nurseries in lancaster, pennsylvania, and he again demonstrated his interest and generosity by giving me both horticultural information and the kindest hospitality. my friendship with him was but one of many that i have formed while traveling and corresponding in the interests of nut culture. true and lasting friends such men make, too, with no circumstances of selfish import to taint the pleasure of the relationship. since i wanted to have many black walnut trees some day, i decided to plant ten bushels of black walnuts in rows. i thought i could later graft these myself and save expense. the theory was all right but when i came to practice it, i found i had not taken squirrels into consideration. these bushy-tailed rats dug up one complete bed which contained two bushels of nuts and reburied them in haphazard places around the farm. when the nuts started to sprout, they came up in the fields, in the gardens, and on the lawn--everywhere except where i had intended them to be. i later was grateful to those squirrels, though, because, through their redistributing these nuts i learned a great deal about the effect of soil on black walnut trees, even discovering that what i thought to be suitable was not. the trees which the squirrels planted for me are now large and lend themselves to experimental grafting. on them i have proved, and am still proving, new varieties of the english walnut. the other eight bushels had been planted near a roadside and close to some farm buildings. the constant human activity thereabouts probably made the squirrels less bold, for although they carried off at least a bushel of walnuts, about two thousand seedlings grew. i had planted these too close together and as the trees developed they became so crowded that many died. the remaining seedlings supplied me with root-stocks for experimental work which proved very valuable. i have always suspected the squirrels of having been responsible for the fact that my first attempt to grow hickory seedlings was unsuccessful. i planted a quart of these nuts and not one plant came up. no doubt the squirrels dug them up as soon as i planted them and probably they enjoyed the flavor as much as i always have. in i ordered one hundred small beechnut trees, _fagus ferruginea_, from the sturgeon bay nurseries at sturgeon bay, wisconsin. the company was very generous and sent me three hundred of them. i planted these trees in a heavy clay soil with limestone running near the surface. they grew well the first year, except that there was heavy mortality during cold weather. in working with these trees my lack of experience and horticultural knowledge was against me. they could not tolerate the soil and within three years they were all dead. to give variety to the landscape at my farm, i planted several other kinds of trees. among these were kentucky coffee-trees which have beautiful bronze foliage in the spring and honey locusts. i planted five hundred douglas fir but unfortunately, i put these deep in the woods among heavy timber where they were so shaded that only a few lived. later, i moved the surviving fir trees into an open field where they still flourish. about two hundred fifty pines of mixed varieties--white, norway and jack--that i planted in the woods, also died. i decided, then, that evergreens might do better if they were planted from seeds. i followed instructions in james w. toumey's "seeding and planting in the practice of forestry," in bed culture and spot seeding. in the latter one tears off the sod in favorable places and throws seed on the unprotected ground. in doing this, i ignored the natural requirements of forest practice which call for half-shade during the first two to three years of growth. thousands of seedlings sprouted but they all died either from disease or from attacks by cows and sheep. one should never attempt to raise trees and stock in the same field. because of these misfortunes, i determined to study the growth of evergreens. i invested in such necessary equipment as frames and lath screening. better equipped with both information and material, i grew thousands of evergreen trees. among the varieties of pine were: native white pine --pinus strobus norway pine --pinus silvestrus mugho pine --pinus pumila montana sugar pine --pinus lambertiana (not hardy in northern wisconsin) swiss stone --pinus cembra (not hardy in northern wisconsin) italian stone --pinus pinea (not hardy in northern wisconsin) pinon --pinus edulis (not hardy in northern wisconsin) bull pine --pinus jeffreyi (hardy) jack pine --pinus banksiana (very hardy) limber pine --pinus flexilis (semi-hardy, a fine nut pine). many of the limber pines came into bearing about fifteen years after the seed was planted. at that age they varied in height from three to fifteen feet. one little three-foot tree had several large cones full of seed. each tree varied in the quality and size of its seeds. although it might be possible to graft the best varieties on young seedling stocks, in all the hundreds of grafts i have made on pine, i have been successful only once. i doubt that such a thing would ever be practical from a commercial standpoint unless some new method were discovered by which a larger percentage of successful grafts could be realized. i cultivated the douglas fir, white, norway, and colorado blue varieties of spruce. besides these, i planted balsam fir, red cedar, _juniperus virginiana_, and white cedar, _arborvitae_. practically all of these trees are still growing and many of them bear seed. i wish to describe the limber pine, _pinus flexilis_, for it is not only a good grower and quite hardy but it is also a very ornamental nut pine which grows to be a broad, stout-trunked tree to feet high. the young bark is pale grey or silver; the old bark is very dark, in square plates. the wood itself is light, soft and close-grained, having a color that varies from yellow to red. the needles, which are found in clusters of five, are slender, - / to inches long, and are dark green. they are shed during the fifth or sixth year. the buds of the tree are found bunched at the branch tips and are scaly and pointed. the limber pine has flowers like those of the white pine, except that they are rose-colored. although the fruit is described as annual, i have found that, in this locality, it takes about fifteen months from the time the blossoms appear for it to reach maturity. that is, the fruit requires two seasons for growth, maturing its seeds the second september. the cones of the limber pine, which vary from three to seven inches in length, are purple, having thick rounded scales and being abruptly peaked at the apex. the seeds are wingless or have only very narrow wings around them. with the idea of getting practical results sooner, since nut trees mature slowly, i interplanted my nut trees with varieties of apple, plum and cherry. doing so also served to economize on ground, since ultimately nut trees require a great deal of space for best growth. walnut trees, for example, should be set to feet apart in each direction. [illustration: _pinus flexilus nut seeds, natural size_] i learned a variety of facts during these first years of trial and error. i discovered, for instance, that iron fence posts rust away in an acid soil; that one must use cedar or oak. conversely, in alkaline soil, iron will last indefinitely, but that the nitrogenous bacteria will quickly rot wooden posts. i found that the secret of growing hickories successfully lies in giving them plenty of room, with no forest trees around to cut off their supply of sunlight and air. i learned that it is impractical to graft a large forest tree of butternut or hickory. incidental to that, i learned that a branch of a butternut tree which looks large enough to support a man's weight near the trunk, will not do so when the branch is green and alive, but that a dead branch of similar size will. contrariwise, even a small green limb of a bitternut-hickory will bear my weight, but an old limb, though several inches thick, becomes so brittle after it is dead for several years that it will break under slight pressure. fortunately, falls from trees do not usually result in serious injuries but i did acquire quite a few bruises learning these distinctions. there is always a natural mortality in planting trees, but in those first years, lacking badly-needed experience, i lost more than %. nearly all of them started to grow but died during the first few winters. those which survived were the start of a nursery filled with hardy trees which can endure the climate of the north. in looking back, i appreciate how fortunate i was in having sought and received advice from experienced nurserymen. had i not done so, frequent failures would surely have discouraged me. as it was, the successes i did have were an incentive which made me persist and which left me with faith enough in an ultimate success to go on buying seeds and trees and to make greater and more varied experiments. chapter black walnuts i have spent more of my time cultivating black walnuts than any other kind of nut tree and given more of my ground area over to them. yet it was with no great amount of enthusiasm that i started working with these trees. obviously there could be nothing new or extraordinary resulting from my planting trees of this species either on my farm or at my st. paul home, since there already were mature, bearing black walnut trees at both places. it was only with the idea that they would be an attractive addition to the native butternut groves that i decided to plant some black walnut seedlings. this did not prove feasible as i first attempted it. i had engaged a mr. miller at st. peter to procure wild black walnut trees for me since they grew near that town. he was to dig these trees with as much of the root system included as possible and ship them to my farm. but the winter season came before this had been accomplished and both mr. miller and i, deciding the idea was not as practical as we had hoped it would be, abandoned it. later that same autumn i found that a nursery just outside of st. paul had several rows of overgrown black walnut trees which they would sell me quite reasonably. i bought them and sent instructions to the tenant at my farm to dig twenty-eight large holes in which to plant them. packed in straw and burlap, the trees weighed about pounds, i found. this was much too heavy and cumbersome to pack in my old touring car, so i hunted around for some sort of vehicle i could attach to my car as a trailer. in an old blacksmith shop, i came upon an antiquated pair of buggy wheels. they looked as though they were ready to fall apart but i decided that with repairs and by cautious driving, they might last out the trip of thirty-five miles. so i paid the blacksmith his asking price--twenty-five cents. the spokes rattled and the steel tires were ready to roll off their wooden rims but the axles were strong. my father-in-law and i puttered and pounded, strengthened and tightened, until we felt our semi-trailer was in good-enough order. it might have been, too, if the roads in the country hadn't been rough and frozen so hard that they hammered on the solid, unresisting tires and spokes until, almost within sight of the farm, one wheel dismally collapsed. as the wheel broke, the trailer slid off the road into a ditch, so that it was necessary to send on to the farm for the plow horses to haul out the car, the trailer and the trees. the horses finished hauling the trees to that part of the farm where holes had been dug for them. i had told my tenant to dig large holes and large holes he had certainly dug! most of them were big enough to bury one of the horses in. such was my amateurish first endeavor. it was not until december of that year, , that the twenty-eight trees were finally planted. although the ground was already somewhat frozen and the trees poorly planted as a result, most of them started to grow in the spring. they would probably be living now if i had not been too ambitious to convert them from seedlings into grafted varieties such as the ohio, thomas and stabler, which i had learned of during a winter's study of available nut-culture lore. i obtained scionwood from j. f. jones, part of which i put on these abused trees and the remainder of which i grafted on butternut trees. at that time, i must admit, i was much more interested in trying the actual work of grafting than i was in developing or even conceiving a methodical plan to be worked out over a period of years. in order to facilitate my grafting work that spring, i pitched a tent in the woods and lived there for a week at a time, doing my own cooking and roughing it generally. cows were being pastured in this part of the woods and they were very interested in my activities. if i were absent for a long time during the day, on my return i would find that noticeable damage had been done to my tent and food supplies by these curious cows. while preparing some scionwood inside the tent one day, i heard a cow approaching and picked up a heavy hickory club which i had for protection at night, intending to rush out and give the animal a proper lesson in minding its own business. the cow approached the tent from the side opposite the door and pushed solidly against the canvas with its nose and head. this so aggravated me that i jumped over to that part of the tent and gave the cow a hard whack over the nose with my hickory stick. it jumped away fast for such a big animal. this seemed to end all curiosity on the part of these cows and i was allowed to carry on my work in peace. with beginner's luck, i succeeded with many of the butternut grafts, as well as with some of the grafts on the twenty-eight planted black walnuts. however, all of the grafted black walnut trees ultimately died with the exception of one grafted stabler. this large tree was a monument of success for twenty years, bearing some nuts every year and maturing them, and in a good season, producing bushels of them. one other of these seedlings survived but as it would not accept any grafts, i finally let it live as nature intended. in , i began ordering grafted black walnut trees, as well as grafted hickory trees from j. f. jones, who had the largest and best known of the nurseries handling northern nut trees. some of these grafted trees were also planted at my home in st. paul, using the two locations as checks against each other. the site in st. paul eventually proved unsatisfactory because of the gravelly soil and because the trees were too crowded. the varieties of black walnuts i first experimented with were the thomas, ohio, stabler and ten eyck, which were planted by hundreds year after year. if i had not worked on this large scale there would be no reason for me to write about it today as the mortality of these black walnuts was so high that probably none would have lived to induce in me the ambition necessary to support a plan involving lengthy, systematic experimentation. some of these early trees survive today, however, and although few in number, they have shown me that the experiment was a worthy one since it laid the foundation for results which came later. in fact, i feel that both the time and money i spent during that initial era of learning were investments in which valuable dividends of knowledge and development are still being paid. in grafting black walnuts on butternut trees, i very foolishly attempted to work over a tree more than a foot in diameter and i did not succeed in getting a single graft to grow on it. other younger trees, from three to six inches in diameter, i successfully grafted. some of these are still living but clearly show the incompatibility of the two species when black walnut is grafted on butternut. the opposite combination of butternut on black walnut is very successful and produces nuts earlier and in greater abundance than butternut does when grafted on its own species. the expense of buying trees by hundreds was so great that after a year i decided that i could very easily plant black walnuts to obtain the young trees needed as understocks. when they had grown large enough, i would graft them over myself. i wrote to my friend in st. peter, mr. e. e. miller, and he told me where i could obtain walnuts by the bushel. soon i was making trips to the countryside around st. peter buying walnuts from the farmers there. i planted about five bushels of these at the river falls farm and the rest, another two bushels, at st. paul. soon i had several thousand young walnut trees which all proved hardy to the winters. when pruning the black walnut trees purchased from mr. jones for transplanting, i saved the tops and grafted them to the young trees with a fair degree of success. in a few years, i was using my own trees to fill up spaces left vacant by the mortality of the pennsylvania-grown trees. i did not neglect seeding to provide stocks of the eastern black walnut also, which is almost a different species from the local black walnut, but these seedling trees proved to be tender toward our winters and only a few survived. after they had grown into large trees, these few were grafted to english walnuts. the difference between the eastern black walnut and the local native black walnut is quite apparent when the two trees are examined side by side. even the type of fruit is different, although i do not know of any botanical authority who will confirm my theory that they are different species. they are probably to be considered as geographically distinct rather than as botanically different species. for several years i continued to graft black walnuts on butternut trees with the intention of converting hundreds, perhaps thousands, of these wild trees over to prolific, cultured black walnuts. i did not realize my mistake in doing this until ten years had elapsed. i believed that since the tops were growing, the trees would shortly produce nuts. today they are still growing, bigger and better, yet most of these grafted trees bear no nuts, having only a crop of leaves. a few nuts result from these grafts, however, and some of the trees bear a handful of nuts from tops of such size that one would expect the crops to be measured in bushels. the kind which bore the best was the ohio variety. in another chapter, i shall relate parallel experience in hickory grafting which i carried on simultaneously with grafting of black walnut on butternut. my first big disappointment in my black walnut orchard was when, in about , having a fairly good crop of nuts, i unsuccessfully attempted to sell them to local stores. they were not interested in anything except walnut kernels and to them, a wild walnut kernel was the same as a cultivated one as long as it was highly-flavored. this so cooled my enthusiasm and hopes for a black walnut orchard that i ceased experimenting with them except to try out new varieties being discovered through nut contests carried on by the northern nut growers' association. the contest produced a number of black walnut possibilities, among them being such named varieties as the rohwer, paterson, throp, vandersloot, pearl and adams. the neglected and over-grown walnut seedlings now began to serve a useful purpose in grafting the new varieties which i obtained for testing in this locality. these were propagated by obtaining scionwood from the originators of the variety and grafting it on these seedling trees. my technical knowledge had increased by this time to such an extent that i was usually certain of one-half of the grafts growing. the behavior of the rohwer and paterson in invited nursery propagation on a greater scale than did other better-known types, because of their qualities of hardiness and earlier-ripening. in the spring of , these native seedlings were again offered to the spirit of propagation, when a large part of the scionwood of english walnuts i had imported from the carpathian mountains of poland was grafted on them. the success of my grafting in this instance was only about - / %, showing that something was decidedly wrong. two conclusions were possible: either the scionwood had been injured by transportation and the severe winter temperatures during january and february of during which they were stored, or incompatibility existed between the imported walnuts and our local ones. my conclusion now is that when these stocks are fifteen years old or more and are thrifty, they will support grafting of the carpathian english walnuts much more successfully than they will in their first decade of growth. results have shown that these local stocks will accept such grafts, however, and that crops of english walnuts will be produced. the fertility of the soil must be maintained carefully, since the english walnut top tends to overgrow its black walnut root-stock, and unless nutritional substance for the support of these tops is fed to the root-system, meager crops, if any, will result. i might note in comparison to the - / % success i had in this grafting, that during the same season i put several hundred scions of these same english walnuts on the eastern black walnut stocks without a single successful graft occurring. in and , many of these experimentally grafted walnuts, such as vandersloot, paterson, and rohwer as well as others, were planted in orchard formation. in digging these trees, we took care to get all of the root possible and to take a ball of dirt with the root. in spite of these precautions, some of the trees died, not having sufficient vitality and root development to withstand transplantation. this was a result not only of the crowded condition under which the stocks had grown but also of the poor soil which had nourished them. the soil was heavy blue clay underlaid with limestone within two feet of the top of the ground. enough trees were set out in orchard formation which are growing well and bearing annual crops, to give us the proof we need in drawing conclusions of superiority among these varieties. black walnuts will keep for several years if they are properly dried and then stored in a cool, but not too damp, place. storing nuts in attics which are likely to become excessively hot in the summer time, causes rancidity sooner than any other method. nuts keep very well in attics during the winter but they should be transferred to a basement during hot weather. if the basement is very damp, though, nuts will mould there. for general storage, without having to move them from one place to another for different seasons, nuts can be kept most practically in a barn or outside shed. the only precaution necessary under such circumstances is that they should be in a box or steel barrel to prevent squirrels and mice from feeding on them, since barns and sheds are easily accessible to these animals. the kernels of black walnuts need not be discolored if the hulls of the fresh nuts are removed as soon as the nuts are ripe. at my farm, we have done this with an ordinary corn-sheller. the nuts, having been hulled this way, are then soaked in water for a few hours to remove any excess coloring matter left on their shells, after which they are dried for several days out-of-doors, although not exposed to the sun since this might cause them to crack open. thorough drying is necessary before sacking to prevent moulding. kernels extracted from nuts treated this way are very light in color like english walnuts. this enhances their market value and they command a higher price when they are to be used for culinary purposes such as cake frosting and candies where there is exposure of large pieces or halves of the nut kernel. i find black walnuts are exceptionally delicious when used in a candy called divinity fudge. the strong flavor of the black walnut kernel although appreciated by many people, is not as popular as that of the butternut, of which more is said in another chapter. the food value of black walnut kernels is high since they are composed of concentrated fat and protein, similar to the english walnut, the hickory nut and the pecan. there is also the advantage, which john harvey kellogg of battle creek, michigan, has pointed out, that nuts are a food of high purity being entirely free from disease bacteria. one could safely say of unshelled nuts that there is not a disease germ in a carload. there was a time when black walnut hulls were purchased by producers of insecticides. the black walnut hull, when dried and pulverized, produces a substance which gives body to the concentrated pyrethrum extract which is the essential ingredient of many insecticides. one cannot leave a discussion of black walnuts without reflecting on the furniture which has been possible only through the use of vast forests of black walnut timber. beautiful veneers have come from the burl walnut, being formed by protuberances on the trunks of the trees near the surface of the ground. there is a variety of black walnut which we have been experimenting with for quite a few years, called the lamb, which has a beautifully figured grain. as this appears only in mature timber, ours is not yet old enough to show it. i have found that the ohio black walnut is prone to hybridize with butternut trees in its vicinity and others have told me of its hybridizing with english walnut trees near it, which shows it to be almost as vacillating in character as our japanese walnuts or heartnuts. ohio black walnuts, when planted, usually produce vigorous stocks, many of which show hybridity of some sort. if one examines the nuts of the ohio and finds them dwarfed or deformed, he may be sure that they have been pollinized by something other than a black walnut. planting such nuts, then, will grow hybrid trees. most of us have enough curiosity to want to try this as an experiment. thomas walnut seedlings have produced more thrifty trees than ohio nuts have. however, the best understocks are those produced from seeds of native grown trees. it is well understood that rarely does a specific type such as the ohio, thomas or stabler reproduce itself exactly from seeds. in raising black walnut seedlings, my experience has taught me that the nuts should be planted in the fall and not too deep, one to two inches below the surface being all the depth necessary. they may never sprout if they are four to six inches under ground. the black walnut tree is a glutton for food seemingly, it will use all the fertilizer that it is given although, no doubt, there is a practical limit. it must have plenty of food to produce successive crops of nuts, and barnyard manure is the safest and most practical kind to use. this can be put on as a heavy mulch around the trees but some of it should also be spaded into the ground. one must always remember that the feeding roots of a tree are at about the same circumference as the tips of the branches so that fertilizer put close to the trunk will do little good except in very young trees. since we have been watching a small native walnut which came into bearing while in a nursery row. this tree bore such fine thin-shelled easy-to-crack nuts and lent itself so readily to being propagated by graftage and had so many other good characteristics that we have selected it as representative of the black walnut varieties for the north and have named it the weschcke walnut and patented the variety. a list is here appended to show the order of hardiness and value based on our experience: --weschcke--very hardy--excellent cracking and flavor --paterson--very hardy--excellent cracking and flavor (originating in iowa) --rohwer--very hardy--good cracker (originating in iowa) --bayfield--very hardy--good cracker (originating in northern wisconsin) --adams (iowa)--fairly hardy--good cracker --ohio--semi-hardy, excellent cracking and flavor (parent tree in ohio) --northwestern--a new, good hardy nut --pearl--semi-hardy--good (from iowa) --vandersloot--semi-hardy--very large --thomas--tender to our winters--otherwise very good (from pennsylvania) --stabler--tender--many nuts single-lobed --throp--tender, many nuts single-lobed a friend of mine, who lives in mason, wisconsin, discovered a black walnut tree growing in that vicinity. since mason is in the northern part of the state, about ° parallel north, this tree grows the farthest north of any large black walnut i know of. i would estimate its height at about sixty-five feet and its trunk diameter at about sixteen inches at breast-height. because of the short growing season there, the nuts do not mature, being barely edible, due to their shrinkage while drying. some seasons this failure to mature nuts also occurs in such varieties as the thomas, the ohio and even the stabler at my river falls farm, which is nearly miles south of mason. such nuts will sprout, however, and seedlings were raised from the immature nuts of this northern tree. incidentally these seedlings appear to be just as hardy in wood growth as their parent tree. i have also grafted scionwood from the original tree on black walnut stocks at my farm in order to determine more completely the quality of this variety. since grafted, these trees have borne large, easy to crack mature nuts and are propagated under the varietal name (bayfield) since the parent tree is in sight of lake superior at bayfield, wisconsin. many of our best nut trees, from man's point of view, have inherent faults such as the inability of the staminate bloom of the weschcke hickory to produce any pollen whatsoever, as has been scientifically outlined in the treatise by dr. mckay under the chapter on hickories. in the weschcke walnut we have a peculiarity of a similar nature as it affects fruiting when the tree is not provided with other varieties to act as pollinators. it has been quite definitely established, by observation over a period of ten or more years, that the pollen of the weschcke variety black walnut does not cause fruiting in its own pistillate blooms. although this is not uncommon among some plants, such as the chestnut and the filbert where it is generally the rule instead of the exception, yet in the black walnuts species the pollen from its own male (or staminate) flowers is generally capable of exciting the ovule of the female (pistillate) flower into growth. such species are known as self-fertile. as in the case of ordinary chestnuts which receive no cross pollination, and the pistillate flowers develop into perfect burrs with shrunken meatless, imperfect nuts, the weschcke black walnut, when standing alone or when the prevailing winds prevent other nearby pollen from reaching any or but few of its pistillate bloom, goes on to produce fine looking average-sized nuts practically all of which are without seed or kernels. such therefore is the importance of knowing the correct pollinators for each variety of nut tree. in the self-sterility of filberts the failure of self-pollination results in an absence of nuts or in very few rather than a full crop of seedless fruits such as the common chestnut and the weschcke black walnuts produces. this is the only black walnut that has come to the author's attention where its pollen acting on its pistillate bloom has affected the production of nuts in just this way but the variety of black walnut known as the ohio, one of the best sorts for this northern climate except for hardiness, has often demonstrated that it has a peculiarity which might be caused by lack of outside pollen or because of the action of its own pollen on its pistillate bloom. this peculiarity is the often found one-sided development of the ohio walnut kernel when the tree is isolated from other pollen bearing black walnuts. one lobe of the kernel is therefore full-meated while the other half or lobe is very undernourished or it may be a thin wisp of a kernel as is the appearance of the weschcke variety in similar circumstances. [illustration: _stabler variety of black walnut grafted on a minnesota seedling stock bore many years but was winter killed. photo by c. weschcke_] cutting scionwood early one spring, i noticed that the sap was running very fast in the grafted stabler tree previously referred to. later when i came back to inspect this tree, i noticed that the sap had congealed to syrupy blobs at the ends of the cut branches. my curiosity led me to taste this and i found it very sweet and heavy. i mean to experiment some time in making syrup from the sap of this tree as i believe its sugar content to be much higher than that of the local sugar maple. this makes the stabler a -purpose tree, the first being its nuts, the second being the syrup, and the third being, at the end of its potentially long life, a good-sized piece of timber of exceptionally high value. the tree is one of beauty, having drooping foliage similar to that of the weeping willow. this is another point in its favor, its being an ornamental tree worthy of any lawn. however, the stabler is now considered as a tender variety and is not recommended for northern planting. [illustration: _stabler graft on old seedling grafted in may, bearing in august of the same year. photo by c. weschcke_] [illustration: _cut leaf black walnut. scions furnished by harry weber of cincinnati, ohio. variety was hardy on minnesota seedling for about years. photo by c. weschcke_] the aesthetic value of the black walnut does not cease here since there are some varieties which are exceptionally attractive. one of these is the cut-leaf black walnut which has the ordinary compound leaf but whose individual leaflets are so scalloped and serrated that they resemble a male fern. everyone who has seen one of these has evinced pleasurable surprise at this new form of leaf and it may become very popular with horticulturists in the future. another interestingly different variety is the deming purple walnut which, although orthodox in leaf form, has a purplish tint, bordering on red in some cases, coloring leaf, wood and nuts, resulting in a distinctly decorative tree. this tree was named for dr. w. c. deming who was the founder of the northern nut growers' association. neither the laceleaf nor deming purple are hardy for this climate but survived several years nevertheless before succumbing to one of our periodical test winters. chapter hazels and filberts in october , i ordered from j. f. jones, one hundred plants of what is known as the rush hazel which was, at that time, the best known of the propagated hazels. in ordering these, i mentioned the fact that i expected to get layered plants or grafted ones. mr. jones wrote me at once to say that the plants he had were seedlings of the rush hazel which are said to come very true to seed, but that if i did not want them as seedlings he would cancel the order. rather than lacking a profitable filler between the orchard trees, i accepted the order of one hundred plants and received from him a fine lot of hazels which took good root and began to grow luxuriantly. it was several years before any of them began to bear and when one or two did, the nuts were not hazels at all, but filberts and hybrids. in most cases these nuts were larger and better than those of the original rush hazel. one of these seedlings grew into a bushy tree ten or twelve feet high. for several years it bore a crop which, though meager, was composed of large, attractive nuts shaped like those of the common american hazel but very unlike the true rush hazelnut. one year this tree began to fail and i tried to save it or propagate it by layering and sprouting seeds. unfortunately it did not occur to me at that time to graft it to a wild hazel to perpetuate it. i still lament my oversight as the tree finally died and a very hardy plant was lost which was apparently able to fertilize its own blossoms. i ordered four winkler hazel bushes from snyder bros. of center point, iowa, in march , asking them to send me plants that were extra strong and of bearing size. i planted these that spring but the following summer was so dry that all four died. i ordered twelve more winklers in september for spring delivery, requesting smaller ones this time (two to three feet). half of these were shipped to me with bare roots, the others being balled in dirt for experimental purposes. four of the latter are still living and producing nuts. in april , i planted a dozen jones hybrid hazels but only two of them survived more than two years. i think the reason they lasted as well as they did was that around each plant i put a guard made of laths four feet high, bound together with wire and filled with forest leaves. i drove the laths several inches into the ground and covered them with window screening fastened down with tacks to keep mice out of the leaves. although somewhat winter-killed, most of the plants lived during the first winter these guards were used. the second winter, more plants died, and i didn't use the guards after that. the two jones hybrids that lived produced flowers of both sexes for several years but they did not set any nuts. one day while reading a report of one of the previous conventions of the northern nut growers' association, i discovered an article by conrad vollertsen in which he stressed the importance of training filberts into a single truncated plant, allowing no root sprouts or suckers to spring up since such a condition prevents the bearing of nuts. i followed his advice with my two jones hybrids and removed all surplus sprouts. this resulted in more abundant flowers and some abortive involucres but still no nuts developed. in the spring of , i systematically fertilized numerous pistillate flowers of these plants with a pollen mixture. on the branches so treated, a fairly good crop of nuts similar to those of the orthodox jones hybrid appeared. i had cut off a few branches from the jones hybrids when i received them and grafted these to wild hazels. this had been suggested by robert morris in his book, "nut growing," as an interesting experiment which might prove to be practical. it did not prove to be so for me for although the grafting itself was successful i found it tiresome to prune, repeatedly, the suckers which constantly spring up during the growing period and which are detrimental to grafts. although they lived for five years, these grafts suffered a great deal of winter-injury and they never bore nuts. the one which lived for the longest time became quite large and overgrew the stock of the wild hazel. this same plant produced both staminate and pistillate blossoms very abundantly for several seasons but it did not set any nuts in spite of the many wild hazels growing nearby which gave it access to pollen. it is now known that this hybrid is self-sterile and must have pollinators of the right variety in order to bear. my next work with members of the genus corylus was discouraging. in april , i bought one hundred hazel and filbert plants from conrad vollertsen of rochester, new york, which included specimens of the rush hazel and of the following varieties of filberts: italian red merribrook kentish cob early globe zellernuts white lambert althaldensleben medium long bony bush large globe minnas zeller marveille de bollwyller although many of these filberts bore nuts the first year they were planted, within two years they were all completely winter-killed. in , i received ten filbert bushes from j. u. gellatly of west bank, british columbia. these consisted of several varieties of glover's best introductions and some pearson seedlings. i planted them on the south side of a high stone wall, a favorable location for semi-hardy plants. they appeared to be thrifty and only slightly winter-killed during the first two years but by , all but two of the bushes had died or were dying. although as nut-bearing plants they have been of little value to me, their pollen has been of great service. i found an unusually fine wild hazel growing in the woods on my farm and in , i began an experiment in hybridizing it. i crossed the pistillate flowers of the native hazel with pollen from a gellatly filbert and obtained four hybrid plants, which i have called hazilberts. in the spring of , three of these hybrids had pistillate flowers but no staminate blooms. as i was very eager to see what the new crosses would be like, i fertilized the blossoms with a gunshot mixture of pollen from other plants such as the winkler hazel, the european filbert and the jones hybrid hazel. certain difficulties arose in making these hybrids, mainly due to the curiosity of the squirrels who liked to rip open the sacks covering the blossoms which were being treated. deer mice, too, i found, have a habit of climbing the stems of hazel bushes and gnawing at the nuts long before they are mature enough to use for seed. later i learned to protect hybrid nuts by lacing flat pieces of window screening over each branch, thus making a mouse-proof enclosure. even after gathering the nuts i discovered that precautions were necessary to prevent rodents from reaching them. the best way i found to do this is to plant nuts in cages of galvanized hardware cloth of by mesh, countersunk in the ground one foot and covered completely by a frame of the same material reinforced with boards and laths. the most interesting hazilbert that has developed bears nuts of outstanding size, typically filberts in every detail of appearance, although the plant itself looks more like a hazel, being bushy and having many suckers. after more testing, this hybrid may prove to be a definite asset to nursery culture in our cold northern climate, fulfilling as it does, all the requirements for such a plant. the second hazilbert resembles the first closely except that its nuts, which are also large, are shaped like those of corylus americana. the third hazilbert has smaller nuts but its shell is much thinner than that of either of the others. in reference to the hazilberts, i am reminded of certain correspondence i once had with j. f. jones. he had sent me samples of the rush hazel and although i was impressed by them, i mentioned in replying to him that we had wild hazels growing in our pasture which were as large or larger than the rush hazelnuts. i admitted that ours were usually very much infested with the hazel weevil. mr. jones was immediately interested in wild hazels of such size and asked me to send him samples of them. he wrote that he had never seen wild hazels with worms in them and would like to learn more about them. i sent him both good and wormy nuts from the wild hazel bush to which i had referred. he was so impressed by them that he wished me to dig up the plant and ship it to him, writing that he wished to cross it with filbert pollen as an experiment. i sent it as he asked but before he was able to make the cross he intended, his death occurred. several years later, his daughter mildred wrote to me about this hazel bush, asking if i knew where her father had planted it. unfortunately i could give her no information about where, among his many experiments, this bush would be, so that the plant was lost sight of for a time. later miss jones sent me nuts from a bush which she thought might be the one i had sent. i was glad to be able to identify those nuts as being, indeed, from that bush. in the spring of , i crossed the winkler hazel with filbert pollen; the european hazel with winkler pollen; the gellatly filbert with jones hybrid pollen. these crosses produced many plants which will be new and interesting types to watch and build from. i have already made certain discoveries about them. by close examination of about forty plants, i have been able to determine that at least five are definitely hybrids by the color, shape and size of their buds. this is a very strong indication of hybridity with wild hazel or winkler. on one of these plants, about one-foot high, i found staminate bloom which i consider unusual after only two seasons' growth. during the fall of , i became interested in a phenomenon of fruit determination previous to actual fructification of the plant by detailed examinations of its buds. i noticed, for instance, that large buds generally meant that the plant would produce large nuts and small buds indicated small nuts to come. the color of the buds, whether they were green, bronze green or reddish brown, could be fairly well depended upon to indicate their hybridity in many cases. these tests were not wholly reliable but the percentage of indication was so high that i was tempted to make predictions. at that time, hazilbert no. had not borne nuts. the bush resembled a wild hazel so much that i had begun to doubt its hybridity. upon examining its buds, i found indications in their color that it was a hybrid, although the nuts apparently would not be large. it would be an important plant to me only if its pollen should prove to be effective on the other hazilberts. at the time this was only a wishful hope, because the pollen of the wild hazel, which this plant resembles, apparently does not act to excite the ovules of either filberts or filbert hybrids with filbert characteristics. pure filbert pollen seemed to be necessary. in , its pollen did prove to be acceptable to the other hazilberts and my hope for a good pollinizer was realized in it. from the conclusions i reached through my study of the buds, i made sketches of which i believed the nuts of no. would be like in size and shape. in march , these sketches were used as the basis of the drawing given here. a comparison of this drawing with the photograph taken in september , of the actual nuts of hazilbert no. show how accurate such a predetermination can be. i am convinced from the work i have done and am still doing, that we are developing several varieties of hazilberts as hardy and adaptable to different soils as the pasture hazel is, yet having the thin shell and the size of a european filbert. as to the quality of the kernel of such a nut, that of the wild hazel is as delicious as anyone could desire. [illustration: _ / natural size filberts_] [illustration: _ / natural size hazilberts and winkler hazel_] [illustration: _ / of actual size hazilberts. left to right: no. , no. , no. , no. _] [illustration: _no. hazilbert about / / . note almost identical size and shape of this actual photograph of no. compared to predetermined size and shape in drawing made almost one year previous to photograph. plant had not produced any nuts prior to crop of _] chapter hazels and/or filberts there is a certain amount of confusion in the minds of many people regarding the difference between filberts and hazels, both of which belong to the genus corylus. some think them identical and call them all hazels dividing them only into european and american types. i see no reason for doing this. "filbert" is the name of one species of genus corylus just as "english walnut" is the commercial name of one of the members of the juglans family. there is as much difference between a well-developed filbert and a common wild hazelnut as there is between a cultivated english walnut and wild black walnut. for ordinary purposes the nuts sold commercially, whether imported or grown in this country, are called filberts while those nuts which may be found growing prolifically in woodlands and pastures over almost the whole united states but which are not to be found on the market are called hazelnuts. this lack of commercialization of hazelnuts should be recognized as due to the smallness of the nut and the thickness of its shell rather than to its lacking flavor. its flavor, which seldom varies much regardless of size, shape or thickness of shell, is both rich and nutty. the three main food components of the hazelnut, carbohydrate, protein and oil, are balanced so well that they approach nearer than most other nuts the ideal food make-up essential to man. the english walnut contains much oil and protein while both chestnuts and acorns consist largely of carbohydrates. one salient feature which definitely separates the species corylus americana or wild hazel, from others of its genus, is its resistance to hazel blight, a native fungus disease of which it is the host. controversies may occur over the application of the names "hazel" and "filbert" but there is no dispute about the effect of this infection on members of genus corylus imported from europe. although there is wide variety in appearance and quality within each of the species, especially among the european filberts, and although filberts may resemble hazels sufficiently to confuse even a horticulturist, the action of this fungus is so specific that it divides corylus definitely into two species. corylus americana and corylus cornuta, through long association, have become comparatively immune to its effects and quickly wall off infected areas while filbert plants are soon killed by contact with it. hybrids between filberts and hazels will usually be found to retain some of the resistance of the hazel parent. the ideal nut of genus corylus should combine qualities of both hazels and filberts. such a hybrid should have the bushy characteristics of the american hazel with its blight-resisting properties and its ability to reproduce itself by stolons or sucker-growth. it should bear fruit having the size, general shape, cracking qualities and good flavor of the filbert as popularly known. the hybrids i am growing at my farm, which i call "hazilberts" and which are discussed later, seem to fulfill these requirements. the plants may be grown as bushes or small trees. they are blight-resistant and their nuts are like filberts in appearance. three varieties of these hazilberts have ivory-colored kernels which are practically free of pellicle or fibre. they have a good flavor. a comparison of the ripening habits and the effect of frost on the various members of the genus corylus growing in my nursery in the fall of , is shown by these extracts taken from daily records of the work done there. it should be noted that the summer season that year was rainy and not as hot as usual, so that most nuts ripened two to three weeks later than they normally do. "september and : wild hazels ripe and picked at this time. (their kernels showed no shrinkage by october .) september and : i picked ripe nuts from hazilbert no. which seems to be the first to ripen. also picked half of the european filberts. (there was slight shrinkage in the kernels of the latter a few weeks later showing that they could have stayed on the trees another week to advantage.) all of the nuts of a jones hybrid, which is a cross between rush and some european variety such as italian red, could have been picked as they were ripe. some were picked. the almond-shaped filbert classified as the white aveline type, was not quite ripe; neither were hazilberts no. and no. , nor the gellatly filberts. wild hazelnuts at this time had dry husks and were falling off the bushes or being cut down by mice. september and : the remaining european filberts of the imported plants were picked. also, i picked half of the white aveline type nuts. [illustration: _carlola hazilberts no. , about / / . this is the earliest ripening and thinnest shell of the large type hazilberts, not the largest size however. carlola weschcke shown in picture. photo by c. weschcke_] september and : we picked most of the nuts remaining on hazilbert no. and the remainder of the white aveline type. at this time we record a heavy frost which occurred during the previous week, that is, between september and th. since it froze water it was considered a "killing" frost. however, the damage was spotty all over the orchard, most things continuing to develop and ripen. winkler hazels picked and examined at this time showed them far from ripe. hazilberts growing next to limestone walls on the south side showed no signs of frost damage whereas the winkler, on higher ground, showed severe damage to the leaves and the husks of the nuts which immediately started to turn brown. leaves of other filbert plants in the vicinity showed no frost damage and the very few nuts that had been left on, such as those of the jones hybrid, were undamaged. october and : picked all of hazilbert no. except the last two nuts. gellatly filberts were picked about october and were ripe at that time. october to : two english walnuts were picked and found to be as ripe as they would get. these as well as the black walnuts showed distinct signs of lacking summer heat needed for their proper development. the last two nuts on hazilbert no. and the only nut on hazilbert no. were picked at this time and were ripe. chestnut burrs had opened up and the nuts enclosed were fully mature. october and : i found the last of the winkler hazelnuts had been picked during the previous week, approximately october . these were left the longest on the bush of any hazel and still were not ripe although they were not entirely killed by the several frosts occurring before that time. they are always much later than the wild hazel." on october , i had an opportunity of comparing the action of frost on the leaves of these plants. those of the white aveline type had not changed color and were very green. the leaves of the jones hybrid showed some coloration but nothing to compare with those of the winkler hazel, many of which had the most beautiful colors of any of the trees on the farm--red, orange and yellow bronze. hazilbert no. , which resembles a wild hazel in appearance and habits of growth, had colored much earlier in reaction to the frost and was as brightly tinted as the wild hazel and winkler plants except that, like the wild hazel, it had already lost much of its foliage. some of the wild hazels were entirely devoid of leaves at this time. hazilbert no. showed the best color effects with no. second and no. last. the color of the leaves and the action of the frost on the plants during the autumn is another thing, in my opinion, that helps to differentiate between and to classify european filberts, american hazels and their hybrids. my conclusion in regard to the effect of frost is that the reaction of the winkler hazel is very similar to that of the wild hazel in color but exceeding it in beauty since its leaves do not drop as soon after coloring. at this time, the leaves had not changed color on the imported european plants, the gellatly filberts from british columbia or the white aveline type. they had turned only slightly on the jones hybrid. i think an accurate idea of the general hardiness of a plant is indicated by the effect of frost and by early dropping of leaves, using the sturdy wild hazel as the limit of hardiness and assuming that its hardiness is shown by both degree of coloration and early dropping of leaves. in noting the action of frost on the winkler hazel, i have mentioned that it was more like that on the american hazel than on the european filberts. the winkler has always been considered a native woodland hazel, but, although it does show several similarities to corylus americana, i have also noticed certain qualities which definitely suggest some filbert heritage. i have based my theory on a study of the winkler hazels which have been bearing annually at my farm for six years, bearing more regularly, in fact, than even the wild hazels growing nearby. my comparisons have been made with wild hazels in both minnesota and wisconsin and with european filberts. i found the first point of similarity with the filbert is in the involucre covering the nut. in the wild hazel, this folds against itself to one side of the nut, while in the filbert it is about balanced and if not already exposing a large part of the end of the nut, is easily opened. the involucre of the winkler hazel is formed much more like that of the filbert than that of the hazel. in corylus americana this involucre is usually thick, tough and watery, while in the filbert it is thinner and drier, so that while a person may be deceived in the size of a hazelnut still in its husk, he can easily tell that of a filbert. this is also true of the winkler whose involucre is fairly thick but outlines the form of the enclosed nut. another feature about the involucre of the winkler which classes it with the filberts rather than the hazels is in its appearance and texture, which is smooth and velvety while that of the hazel is hairy and wrinkled. the staminate blooms of the winkler hazel show similarity to those of both filberts and hazels. sometimes they appear in formation at the ends of branches, much as those of the european filberts do, in overlapping groups of three or four. again, they may be found at regular intervals at the axis of leaf stems very much as in the case of the american hazel. the buds on the winkler hazel are dull red which is also true of those on the hybrid hazilberts, another indication of hybridity. the initial growth of the embryo nut is very slow in the winkler as it is in the filbert, as contrasted with the very rapid development of the native hazel embryo which matures in this latitude about one month ahead of the winklers and some filberts. although winkler nuts are shaped like hazels and have the typically thick shells of hazelnuts, their size is more that of a filbert usually three times as large as a native hazel. during the years between and many new hybrids between filberts and hazels were produced. four wild varieties of hazels, which had unusual characteristics such as tremendous bearing and large size nuts and others having very early maturing or very thin shelled nuts were used as the female parents in making the crosses. pollen was obtained from other parts of the u. s. or from filbert bushes which were growing on the place. crosses included pollen of the barcelona, duchilly, red aveline, white aveline, purple aveline, the italian red, daviana and several hybrids between other filberts and hazels. by the number of these plants were in the neighborhood of and by considerable knowledge had been gained as to the hardiness, blight resistance to the common hazel blight (known scientifically as cryptosporella anomala), freedom from the curculio of the hazelnuts (commonly known as the hazel weevil) and resistance to other insect pests. also, considerable data had been accumulated by cataloging over trees each year for five years; cataloging included varied and detailed studies of their growth, bearing habits, ability to resist blight, curculio and other insects, the size of the nut, the thinness of the shell and the flavor of the kernel. several books of all this detail were accumulated in trying to nail down several commercial varieties that would be propagated from this vast amount of material. although some bushes produced good nuts at the rate of as much as two tons to the acre, measured on the basis of space that they took up in the test orchard, the most prolific kind seemed to be the ones that had a tendency to revert to the wild hazel type. the better and thinner-shelled types, more resembling the filberts, seemed to be shy bearers so that there being a host of new plants to catalog (more than ) which had not indicated their bearing characteristics, we included these among the possible ideal plants we were seeking. although there were several plants that could be considered commercial in the original group of over it has been thought that the waiting of a few more years to ascertain whether there would be something better in the next plants to bear that would be worthwhile waiting for and no attempt has been made to propagate the earlier tested plants. some of these tested hybrids proved to have nuts that were classed as giants being much larger than the filberts produced by male or pollen parent such as the barcelona, duchilly or daviana, and several times the size of the nuts of the female parent which was the wild hazel. [illustration: _wild wisconsin hazel discovered on hazel hills farm near river falls. note size of nuts in husks as compared to woman's hand. this plant became the female parent in over , crosses by pollen furnished from male blooms of duchilly, barcelona, italian red, white, red, and purple aveline and many other well known filberts. photo by c. weschcke_] chapter pecans and their hybrids at the same time, october , that i purchased beaver hickory trees from j. f. jones, i also procured from him three specimens each of three commercial varieties of pecan trees, the posey, indiana and niblack, as well as some hiccan trees, i.e., hybrids having pecan and hickory parents. only one tree survived, a niblack pecan, which, after sixteen years, was only about eighteen inches in height. its annual growth was very slight and it was killed back during the winter almost the full amount of the year's growth. in the th year this tree was dead. in september , at a convention of the northern nut growers' association in st. louis, missouri, i became acquainted with a man whose experience in the nut-growing industry was wide and who knew a great deal about the types of hickory and pecan trees in iowa. he was s. w. snyder of center point, iowa. (he later became president of the association.) in one of his letters to me the following summer, mr. snyder mentioned that there were wild pecan trees growing near des moines and burlington. i decided i wanted to know more about them and at my request, he collected ten pounds of the nuts for me. i found they were the long type of pecan, small, but surprisingly thin-shelled and having a kernel of very high quality. i first planted these nuts in an open garden in st. paul, but after a year i moved them to my farm, where i set them out in nursery rows in an open field. the soil there was a poor grade of clay, not really suited to nut trees, but even so, most of the ones still remaining there have made reasonably good growth. i used a commercial fertilizing compound around about half of these seedlings which greatly increased their rate of growth, although they became less hardy than the unfertilized ones. after five years, i transplanted a number of them to better soil, in orchard formation. although i have only about fifty of the original three hundred seedlings, having lost the others mainly during droughts, these remaining ones have done very well. some of these trees have been bearing small crops of nuts during the years to date. the most mature nuts of these were planted and to date i have second generation pure pecan trees to testify as to the ability of the northern pecan to become acclimated. i gave several of the original seedlings to friends who planted them in their gardens, where rich soil has stimulated them to grow at twice the rate of those on my farm. there were four individual pecan trees growing in or near st. paul from my first planting, the largest being about feet high with a caliber of five inches a foot above ground. although this tree did not bear nuts i have used it as a source of scionwood for several years. these graftings, made on bitternut hickory stock, have been so successful that i am continuing their propagation at my nursery, having named this variety the hope pecan, for joseph n. hope, the man who owns the parent tree and who takes such an interest in it. [illustration: _shows the use of a zinc metal tag fastened by or gauge copper wire to branch of tree._] by the year the tree had such a straggly appearance, although still healthy and growing but being too shaded by large trees on the boulevard, that mr. hope caused it to be cut down. the variety is still growing at my farm, grafted on bitternut stocks and although blossoming it has never produced a nut up to this time. another tree given to joseph posch of the city of st. paul, minnesota, had made even better growth and was luxuriantly healthy and in bloom when it was cut down by the owner because the branches overhung the fence line into a neighbor's yard. this was done in about . another tree given to mrs. wm. eldridge of st. paul still flourishes and is quite large (in at breast height, inches in diameter) but being in a dense shade, it has not borne any nuts. the fourth tree, given to john e. straus, the famous skate maker, presumably exists at his lake residence north of st. paul. i have not seen it in the last seven or eight years. although they are not as hardy as bitternut stocks, i have found the wild iowa pecan seedlings satisfactory for grafting after five years' growth. i use them as an understock for grafting the posey, indiana and major varieties of northern pecan and find them preferable to northern bitternut stocks with which the pecans are not compatible for long, as a rule, such a union resulting in a stunted tree which is easily winter-killed. although the posey continued to live for several years our severe winters finally put an end to all these fine pecans. the root system of the seedling understock continued to live, however. i chanced to discover an interesting thing in the fall of which suggests something new in pecan propagation. there were two small pecans growing in the same rows as the large ones planted fifteen years previously. when i noticed them, i thought they were some of this same planting and that they had been injured or frozen back to such an extent that they were mere sprouts again, for this has happened. i decided to move them and asked one of the men on the farm to dig them up. when he had dug the first, i was surprised to find that this was a sprout from the main tap root of a large pecan tree which had been taken out and transplanted. the same was true of the second one, except that in this case we found three tap roots, the two outside ones both having shoots which were showing above the ground. another remarkable circumstance about this was that these tap roots had been cut off twenty inches below the surface of the ground and the sprouts had to come all that distance to start new trees. all of this suggests the possibility of pecan propagation by root cuttings. these two pecans, at least, show a natural tendency to do this and i have marked them for further experimentation along such lines. on the advice of the late harry weber of cincinnati, ohio, an eminent nut culturist, who, after visiting my nursery in , became very anxious to try out some of the indiana varieties of pecans in our northern climate, i wrote to j. ford wilkinson, a noted propagator of nut trees at rockport, indiana, suggesting that he make some experimental graftings at my farm. both mr. wilkinson and mr. weber gathered scionwood from all the black walnut, pecan, hiccan and hickory trees at their disposal, for this trial. there was enough of it to keep three of us busy for a week grafting it on large trees. our equipment was carried on a two-wheeled trailer attached to a diesel-powered tractor, and we were saved the trouble of having to carry personally, scions, packing material, wax pots, knives, pruning shears, tying material, canvas and ladders into the woods. mr. wilkinson remarked, on starting out, that in the interests of experimental grafting, he had travelled on foot, on horseback, by mule team and in rowboats, but that this was his first experience with a tractor. when he saw the type of grafting with which i had been getting good results, mr. wilkinson was astounded. he declared that using a side-slot graft in the south resulted in % failure, while i had more than % success with it. he was willing to discard his type of grafting for mine, which was adequate for the work we were doing, but i wanted to check his grafting performance and urged him to continue with his own (an adaptation of the bark-slot graft to the end of a cut-off stub). we both used paper sacks to shade our grafts. although results proved that my methods averaged a slightly higher percentage of successful graftings in this latitude and for the type of work we were doing, his would nonetheless be superior in working over trees larger than four inches in diameter and having no lateral branches up to eight feet above ground, at which height it is most convenient to cut off a large hickory preparatory to working on it. in the late fall of that year, we cut scionwood of the season's growth and inverted large burlap bags stuffed with leaves over the grafts, the bags braced on the inside by laths to prevent their collapsing on the grafts. so we have perpetuated the following varieties: hickories: cedar rapids, taylor, barnes, fairbanks. hiccans: mcalester, bixby, des moines, rockville, burlington, green bay. the major and posey pure pecans being incompatible on bitternut hickory roots were grafted on pecan stocks, but they proved to be tender to our winters and the varieties were finally lost. [illustration: _largest planted pecan in world having a record. about ft. circumference breast height, ft. spread and ft. height. very small worthless pecans. easton, maryland. photo by reed _] other experiments i have made with pecans include an attempt to grow southern pecans from seed, but they seem to be no more hardy than an orange tree would be. it is certain that they are not at all suited to the climate of the th parallel. in , i received from dr. w. c. deming of connecticut, some very good nuts from a large pecan tree at hartford, connecticut. of the twelve pecans i planted, only six sprouted, and of these, only one has survived up to this date and is now a small weak tree. apparently, the seedlings of this hartford pecan are not as hardy as those from iowa. [illustration: _iowa seedling pecans. tree planted in as seed. first crop october , . / of actual size. nuts were fully matured. photo by c. weschcke_] of the hiccans, hybrids between hickory and pecan, there are several varieties, as i mentioned before. of these, the mcalester is the most outstanding, its nuts measuring over three inches in circumference and about three inches long. horticulturists believe that this hybrid is the result of a cross between a shell-bark hickory, which produces the largest nut of any hickory growing in the united states, and a large pecan. i have experimented a number of times with the mcalester and my conclusion is that it is not hardy enough to advocate its being grown in this climate. there are other hiccans hardier than it is, however, such as the rockville, burlington, green bay and des moines, and it is certain that the north is assured of hardy pecans and a few hardy hybrids, which, although they do not bear the choicest pecan nuts, make interesting and beautiful lawn trees. indeed, as an ornamental tree, the pecan is superior to the native hickory in two definite ways: by its exceedingly long life, which may often reach over years as contrasted with the average hickory span of years, and by its greater size. one pecan tree i saw growing in easton, maryland, in , for example, was then seventeen feet in circumference at breast-height, one hundred twenty-five feet in height and having a spread of one hundred fifty feet. the wood of the pecan is similar to that of the hickory in both toughness and specific gravity, although for practical purposes, such as being used for tool handles, the shagbark hickory is enough harder and tougher to make it the superior of the two. i was pleasantly surprised on october , when a pecan seedling of the iowa origin, which had not yet borne any nuts, showed a small crop. these nuts were fully matured and were of sufficient size so that they could be considered a valuable new variety of pecan nut for the north. a plate showing a few of these pecans illustrates, by means of a ruler, the actual size of these pecans, and the fact that they matured so well by october indicates that in many seasons they may be relied upon to mature their crop. no other data has been acquired on this variety and we can only be thankful that we can expect it to do a little better in size as successive crops appear, which is the usual way of nut trees. also, by fertilizing this tree we can expect bigger nuts, as is generally the case. the shell of this pecan is so thin that it can be easily cracked with the teeth, which i have done repeatedly, and although small is thinner-shelled than any standard pecan. chapter hickory the king the acknowledged autocrat of all the native nuts is the hickory. perhaps not all the experts admit this leadership but it is certainly the opinion held by most people. of course, when i speak of the hickory nut in this high regard, i refer to the shagbark hickory which, as a wild tree, is native as far north as the rd parallel in minnesota and wisconsin, and somewhat farther in the eastern states. wild hickory nuts have been commercialized only to a slight extent. its crops are almost entirely consumed in the locality in which they are grown by those people who find great pleasure in spending fine autumn days gathering them. the obvious reason why hickory nuts have not been made a product of commerce lies in the nut itself, which is usually very small and which has a shell so strong and thick that the kernel can be taken out only in small pieces. the toughness of the shell makes cracking difficult, too, and since only rarely is one found that can be broken by a hand cracker, it is necessary to use the flatiron-and-hammer method. it is quite possible, though, that some day the hickory will rival or exceed its near relative, the wild pecan, in commercial favor. the wild pecans which formerly came on the market at christmastime in mixtures of nuts were just as difficult to extract from their shells as the wild shagbark hickory nuts are now. by means of selection and cultivation, the pecan was changed from a small, hard-to-crack nut to that of a large thin-shelled nut whose kernel was extractable in whole halves. among many thousands of wild pecan trees were a few which bore exceptionally fine nuts, nuts similar to those now found at every grocery store and called "papershell" pecans. these unusual nuts were propagated by grafting twigs from their parent trees on ordinary wild pecan trees whose own nuts were of less value. these grafted trees were set out in orchards where they produce the millions of pounds of high-grade pecans now on the market. the question which naturally occurs is, "why hasn't this been done with hickory nuts?" hundreds of attempts have been made to do so, by the greatest nut propagators in the united states. they have been successful in grafting outstanding varieties of hickory to wild root stocks but the time involved has prevented any practical or commercial success, since most grafted hickories require a period of growth from ten to twenty years before bearing any nuts. this length of time contrasts very unfavorably with that required by grafted pecans which produce nuts on quite young trees, frequently within three to five years after grafting. this factor of slow growth has set the pecan far ahead of the tasty shagbark hickory. experimenters have long thought to reduce the time required by the hickory to reach maturity by grafting it to fast-growing hickory roots such as the bitternut or the closely related pecan. both of these grow rapidly and the bitternut has the additional advantage of growing farther north and of being transplanted more easily. it has always been thought that when a good variety of shagbark hickory had been successfully grafted to bitternut root stocks, orchards of hickory trees would soon appear. this takes me to my discovery of the variety now known as the weschcke hickory, which i have found fulfills the necessary conditions. [illustration: _shows exceptionally thin shell of weschcke hickory variety. drawing by wm. kuehn_] one fall day in , when i was at the home of a neighboring farmer, he offered me some mixed hickory nuts he had received from an uncle in iowa. as he knew of my interest in nuts, he wanted my opinion of them. i looked them over and explained that they were no better than little nutmegs, having very hard shells and a small proportion of inaccessible meat. to demonstrate this, i cracked some between hammer and flatiron. my demonstration was conclusive until i hit one nut which almost melted under the force i was applying. the shape of this nut was enough different from the others to enable me to pick out a handful like it from the mixture. i was amazed to see how very thin-shelled and full of meat they were. upon my request, this neighbor wrote to his uncle, john bailey, of fayette, iowa, asking if he knew from which tree such fine nuts had come. unfortunately he did not, because the nuts had been gathered from quite a large area. after corresponding with mr. bailey myself, i decided that i would go there and help him locate the tree, although it was nearly christmas and heavy snowfalls which already covered the ground would make our search more difficult. [illustration: _carl weschcke, jr., hand holding weschcke hickory in hull. / / photo by c. weschcke_] on my arrival in fayette, i called on mr. bailey, who was glad to help me hunt out the tree in which i had so much interest. we called a. c. fobes, the owner of the farm from which the nuts were believed to have come, and arranged to go out there with him by bob sleigh. a rough ride of six or seven miles brought us to the farm and we began our quest. once there, mr. bailey had a more definite idea of where to look for the tree from which these particular nuts came than he had had before and we had not been at our task for more than an hour before it was located. there were still quite a few nuts on the ground beneath it, which identified it accurately. it was a large shagbark whose first living branch was fully sixteen feet off the ground and, since we had no ladder with us, i had to shin up the tree to cut off some of the smaller branches. this shagbark, true to its name, had rough bark which tore not only my clothes but some of the skin on my legs as well and whereas the climbing up was difficult, the coming down was equally so. having contracted verbally with mr. fobes to buy the tree, i packed the branches i had cut in cardboard boxes with straw packing and carefully brought them home to st. paul. i wrote at once to my friend, j. f. jones, of my expedition, telling him of my plans to propagate this hickory. i also sent him some of the nuts from the parent tree and samples of extra-good nuts from other trees growing near it so that he could give me his opinion of them. mr. jones responded by advising me about the kind of a contract to make with mr. fobes in regard to both the purchasing and propagation of the original hickory tree and he urged the latter enthusiastically. of the weschcke hickory nuts themselves, he wrote: "this is practically identical with the glover. the glover is usually a little larger but this varies in all nuts from year to year. this is a fine nut and if it comes from iowa, it ought to be propagated. i suggest you keep the stock of it and propagate the tree for northern planting, that is for iowa, minnesota, wisconsin, etc., where most nuts grown here would not mature." a few years ago, i saw the glover hickory nut for the first time and i also thought it much the same as the weschcke in shape, as is also the brill. because i did not know how to preserve the scions i had cut, they dried out during the winter to such an extent that they were worthless for spring grafting. this meant losing a whole season. the next fall i obtained more scionwood from mr. fobes and having kept it in good condition during the winter by storing it in a harrington graft box shown by illustration, i was able to graft it in the spring. however, these grafts did not take hold well, only two or three branches resulting from all of it and these did not bear nor even grow as they should have. i was disappointed and discouraged, writing to mr. fobes that i did not believe the tree could be propagated. [illustration: _this drawing illustrates how to build a harrington graft storage box_] in the fall of , mr. fobes sent me a large box of scions and branches, explaining that he had sold his farm and, as the tree might be cut down, this was my last opportunity to propagate it. without much enthusiasm, i grafted the material he had sent me on about a dozen trees, some of them very large hickories and i was most agreeably surprised to find the grafting successful and more than one branch bearing nutlets. these nuts dropped off during the summer until only one remained to mature, which it did in the latter part of october. but i waited too long to pick that nut and some smart squirrel, which had probably been watching it ripen as diligently as i had, secured it first. i made a very thorough search of the ground nearby to find the remains of it, for while i knew i would not get a taste of the kernel--the squirrel would take care of that--i was interested in finding out whether it followed the exact shape and thinness of shell of the first nuts i had examined. i finally did find part of it, enough to see that it was similar to the nuts from the parent tree. the grafts i made in have been bearing nuts every year since that time. the weschcke hickory makes a tremendous growth grafted on bitternut hickory (carya cordiformis). the wood and buds are hardy to a temperature of ° below zero fahrenheit, so that wherever the wild bitternut hickory grow, this grafted tree will survive to bear its thin-shelled nuts. the nuts have a fine flavor and the unusual quality of retaining this flavor without becoming rancid, for three years. the only fault to find with them is the commercial one of being only medium in size, so that compared to english walnuts, for example, they become unimpressive. i have noticed time and again that the average person will pass over a small, sweet nut to choose a larger one even though the latter may not have as attractive a flavor. this is noticeably true in regard to pecans, when the large paper-shell types, which have a rather dry, sweet kernel, are almost invariably preferred to the smaller ones of finer flavor, which are plump and have slightly thicker shells. previous to finding the weschcke hickory, i experimented with several varieties of hickory hybrids. in march , i purchased twelve beaver and twelve fairbanks hybrid hickories from j. f. jones. i planted these trees in april of that year but of the lot, only two beaver trees lived to bear nuts. one of these is still growing on my farm, in thin, clay soil underlaid with limestone, and it bears nuts annually. it is only a fair-sized tree but i think its slow growth has protected it from the usual amount of winter damage. i also ordered from mr. jones, in july , marquardt hiccans, laney, siers, beaver and fairbanks. the last four are hybrids between species of hickories. out of the whole order, amounting to one hundred trees, none remains alive now. the marquardt hiccan mentioned above was the subject of dispute among nut culturists for a time but it has been definitely agreed now, that the marquardt was never actually propagated, the tree having been lost or cut down before scions were taken from it. substitutes were taken from the burlington, a hybrid whose nut is similar to the marquardt and whose foliage and other attributes are thought to be like it. the name of marquardt persisted for several years, however, and it has been entirely discarded only recently. the burlington is now known to be the representative of that part of iowa. however, i grafted some of the tops of the marquardt trees from jones to bitternut trees at the time that i transplanted them; several of the grafts made successful growth and resulted in several trees growing deep in the woods. after years these grafts are still alive and certainly have established their right to be called compatible with bitternut hickory stocks. close examination of the branches, leaves and buds, particularly the leaf-scars, indicate that this hiccan is enough different and more hardy than the burlington, which also grows well on the bitternut, to discredit the story that the marquardt is lost. it will not be determined, however, that this is the genuine marquardt until it has fruited. altogether i have grafted about varieties of hickory and its hybrids on bitternut stocks in my attempts to increase the number of varieties of cultured hickory trees in the north. most of those i worked with were compatible with the bitternut stock, but a few, perhaps a dozen, have indicated that they would rather not live on the bitternut and have died, either from incompatibility or winter-killing. yet as a root system, the bitternut is the hardiest and easiest to transplant of any of the hickories and for these reasons it makes an ideal stock for the amateur nut-grower to use. i did try, in , to grow some shagbark hickory stocks, which would be more compatible with those varieties i could not get started on bitternut. i planted half a bushel of shagbark hickory nuts from iowa, but although they sprouted nicely, they were not sufficiently hardy and were winter-killed so severely that, after twelve years, the largest was not more than a foot high, nor thicker than a lead pencil. some of these, about , were transplanted into the orchard and in other favorable locations. the largest of these, in , is about inches in diameter, -foot off the ground, and about feet high. i have not grafted any yet and only one has borne any seedling nuts so far. i am now reconciled to using my native bitternut trees for most of my stock in spite of some disadvantages. a list of successfully grafted varieties is appended, and indicates to what extent this stock is a universal root stock for most of the hickories and their hybrids. a successful union, however, and long life, does not mean that good bearing habits will be established, since most of these trees grow in the woods in dense shade and poor surroundings. some varieties have not borne many nuts, and some not at all. the following scions were cut this fall (in ) from successfully grafted trees deep in the woods: bixby hiccan (pecan by shellbark) grafted in burlington hiccan (pecan by shellbark) grafted in green bay hiccan (pecan by shellbark) grafted in des moines hiccan (pecan by shellbark) grafted in burton hiccan (pecan by shellbark) grafted in mcalester hiccan (pecan by shellbark) grafted in anthony shagbark hickory grafted in barnes shagbark by mocker nut grafted in brill shagbark hickory grafted in brooks shagbark hickory grafted in camp no. shagbark hickory grafted in (?) deveaux shagbark hickory grafted in fox shagbark hickory grafted in glover shagbark hickory grafted in gobble shagbark hickory grafted in hand shagbark hickory grafted in harman shagbark hickory grafted in leonard shagbark hickory grafted in lingenfelter shagbark hickory grafted in manahan shagbark hickory grafted in milford shagbark hickory grafted in murdock shagbark hickory grafted in netking shagbark hickory grafted in platman shagbark hickory grafted in pleas pecan by bitternut grafted in schinnerling shagbark hickory grafted in stanley shellbark hickory grafted in swaim shagbark hickory grafted in taylor shagbark hickory grafted in triplett shagbark hickory grafted in woods grafted in the varieties below are growing in orchard or random locations out of the woods: beaver hybrid hickory grafted in cedar rapids shagbark hickory grafted in clark shagbark hickory grafted in fairbanks hybrid shagbark by bitternut grafted in herman last hybrid grafted in hope pecan pure pecan grafted to bitternut grafted in kirtland shagbark hickory grafted in laney pecan by shellbark grafted in marquardt hiccan grafted in norton hiccan grafted in river hickory undetermined hybrid grafted in rockville hiccan pecan by shellbark grafted in siers mockernut by bitternut grafted in stratford shagbark by bitternut grafted in weiker hybrid shagbark by shellbark grafted in in addition to the above, several large and small trees of the weschcke variety are located in orchard and random locations, some having been grafted in and later. also, there is a sprinkling of bridgewater variety, grafted in and later, all bearing each year. for many years, i observed hickories and walnuts in bloom and hand-pollinated them, yet i overlooked many things i should have discovered earlier in study. it was only after ten years of observing the weschcke hickory, for example, that i realized the importance of proper pollinization of it. in years when it produced only a few nuts, i had blamed seasonal factors, rains and soil conditions, but i now realize that it was due to lack of the right pollen. in the spring of , i decided to make special pollen combinations with all the hickories then in bloom. the information i acquired in return was great reward for the work i did. i selected branches of the weschcke hickory trees bearing a profuse amount of pistillate (female) blossoms. i hand-pollinated these with a special apparatus (the hand-pollen gun described later in this book), using a magnifying glass so that both pollen and blossom could be plainly seen. in doing this, i found it most practical to wear what jewelers call a "double loupe," a light, fiber head-gear carrying lenses well-suited to such work. i treated the marked branches with pollen gathered from the bridgewater, the kirtland and the beaver, all very good pollen-bearers. i also pollinated branches of the cedar rapids variety, which bears little pollen in this locality, with kirtland pollen. however, the pollinization of the cedar rapids, which involved treating from to pistillate blossoms, resulted in only two mature nuts. the weschcke hickory has an abortive staminate bloom so that it must depend on some other variety for pollen. at the northern nut growers' convention, held at hershey, pa. in , (where i had the honor of being elected president of that venerable organization and succeeded myself thereafter for the next five years) i mentioned this abortive staminate bloom of my hickory to my friend, dr. j. w. mckay, associate cytologist of the u. s. department of agriculture at that time. he was very interested in this phenomenon and wanted specimens of the abortive catkins for examination. these were sent to him in the spring of . i quote from dr. mckay's report on his primary findings: "i have just made a preliminary examination of the catkins from your hickory tree received last may, and it seems that the individual staminate flower of the catkin produces - undersized stamens, the anthers of which are devoid of either pollen or pollen-mother-cells. so far i have made only temporary preparations of the crushed anthers in stain but careful study of these mounts discloses no sign of pollen grains or mother cells, so we may tentatively conclude that no pollen is produced by the tree; in other words it is male-sterile. the stage at which degeneration of the pollen-forming tissue occurs in the anthers and its nature will have to be determined by means of a longer and more elaborate technique and i will let you know what we find as soon as the results are available. it may be that pollen-mother-cells are not even formed in the anthers; the small size of these structures and their more or less shriveled appearance lead me to believe that this may be the case. "so far as i know there is no instance among nut species comparable to that outlined above. we have two or three cases of male sterility in chestnut but in these no stamens are formed in the individual staminate flower. in one of the hybrid walnuts that i reported on at the hershey convention, imperfect pollen grains are formed in the anthers but the latter structures never open, so no pollen is shed. "bear in mind that the above report is preliminary and other angles may turn up when permanent mounts are available for study." on december , i received a second, and final report from dr. mckay from which i quote, as follows: "dear mr. weschcke: the enclosed pencil sketches will give you an idea of the results obtained from sectioning four lots of material from the two samples of catkins that you sent, two lots from each sample. since the sample collected may at the time of catkin fall was old enough to contain mature pollen and showed only anthers of the two types described herewith i think we may safely conclude that the tree is male sterile because of the failure of the mother cells to function. it is odd that in some anthers the pollen-mother-cells develop (type ) while in others they do not (type ). for this we have no explanation; nor can we explain why the tree is male sterile. i am afraid these phenomena will remain a matter of conjecture for some time to come. since sterilities of this and other sorts in most other plants are largely genetic, that is, controlled by one or more genes that are inherited in mendelian fashion, it is likely that such is the case here. you and i will not live long enough, however, to grow the necessary number of generations of trees to clear up these matters. "in the course of routine preparation of other material i plan to run up other lots from your samples, and i will let you know if anything different turns up. i believe we may safely conclude, however, that the results reported herewith are representative." in further explanation, dr. mckay submitted the drawings shown on page , and says: "four lots of material were sectioned, two from the collection of may and two from that of may . of these, two gave anthers of type one, and two of type two. more material will have to be sectioned before we know which type is predominant. "the anthers of type one are greatly shriveled, and a band of deeply-staining collapsed cells apparently represents the remains of archesporial or pollen-forming tissue. "the anthers of type two are normal in appearance, but the pollen-mother-cells degenerate before pollen grains are formed. a comparison of the degenerate pollen-mother-cells of this plant with normal pollen-mother-cells is given below:" [illustration: sections of anthers of the weschcke hickory carya ovata _illustrations by dr. mckay showing pollen degeneration in weschcke hickory._] this substantiates the conclusion that i had arrived at previous to this report, that this hickory is able to mature its nuts early in the fall by reason of not having to waste its energy in the production of pollen. (there is only one other variety of hickory which i have grafted on bitternut which has proved unable to mature pollen and it is the creager from iowa.) i was immensely pleased to find that it responded very well to bridgewater pollen, a high percentage of the blooms treated with it developing mature nuts. the results with the kirtland pollen were almost equally good, the poorest showing coming from those branches treated with beaver pollen on which only three mature nuts developed. (the beaver is presumed to be a hybrid between bitternut and shagbark hickories.) sixty-two nuts from these pollinizations were planted in the fall of in rodent-proof seed beds. in the spring, counting germination, i found % of these nuts had sprouted and grown into small trees during the season. after finding the most suitable pollen for the weschcke hickory, i realized the necessity for including more than one variety of hickory in a planting, just as there should be more than one variety of apple or plum tree in an orchard. i think that it would always be well to have three or more varieties of known compatibility within reasonable distances, probably not more than feet apart, nor less than to feet for large hickories. of the many varieties of hickory and hickory hybrids i have tested, about twenty have, by now, proved to be sufficiently hardy to recommend for this latitude. these include: *beaver hybrid hickory *fairbanks hybrid hickory *laney hybrid hickory burlington hybrid between pecan and shellbark hickory rockville hybrid between pecan and shellbark hickory hope pecan pure pecan grafted on to bitternut roots hand pure shagbark *bridgewater pure shagbark barnes hybrid hickory *cedar rapids pure shagbark *weschcke pure shagbark *deveaux pure shagbark *brill pure shagbark *glover pure shagbark *kirtland pure shagbark *siers thought to be a hybrid between the mocker nut and bitternut *stratford hybrid (bitternut by shagbark) *creager *have produced mature nuts there are three or four others that are hardy but all means of identification having been lost, it will be necessary to wait until they come into bearing before their varieties will be known. as experiments continue, more varieties of worthy, hardy hickories and hiccans will be found which will justify completely the opinion of those of us who always hail as king of all our native nuts, the hickory. [illustration: _ --weschcke hickory as borne by parent tree at fayette, iowa._ _ --after several years of bearing grafted on northern bitternut hickory at river falls, wis._ _ --still further change in shape and size from graft on bitternut._ _ --change and increase in size now is so pronounced as to almost extinguish its original identity._] [illustration: _weschcke hickory nut natural size shows free splitting hull. photo by c. weschcke._] chapter butternut like the hickory tree, the butternut shares in the childhood reminiscences of those who have lived on farms or in the country where butternuts are a treat to look forward to each fall. the nuts, which mature early, have a rich, tender kernel of mild flavor. only the disadvantage of their heavy, corrugated shells prevents them from holding the highest place in popularity, although a good variety cracks easily into whole half-kernels. butternuts grow over an extended range which makes them the most northern of all our native wild nut trees, although their nuts do not mature as far north as hazelnuts do. butternut trees blossom so early that in northern latitudes the blossoms are frequently killed in late spring frosts. only when the trees are growing near the summit of a steep hillside will they be likely to escape such frosts and bear crops regularly. i have found that really heavy crops appear in cycles in natural groves of butternut trees. my observation of them over a period of thirty-two years in their natural habitat in west-central wisconsin has led me to conclude that one may expect butternut trees to bear, on an average, an enormous crop of nuts once in five years, a fairly large crop once in three years, with little or no crop the remaining years. as a seedling tree of two or three years, the butternut is indistinguishable from the black walnut except to a very discerning and practiced eye, especially in the autumn after its leaves have fallen. as the trees grow older, the difference in their bark becomes more apparent, that of the butternut remaining smooth for many years, as contrasted to the bark on black walnut trees which begins to roughen on the main trunk early in its life. bark on a butternut may still be smooth when the tree is ten years old. forest seedlings of butternut, when one or two years old, are easily transplanted if the soil is congenial to their growth. although the tree will do well on many types of soil, it prefers one having a limestone base, just as the english walnut does. a butternut seedling usually requires several more years of growth than a black walnut does before it comes into bearing, although this varies with climate and soil. it is impossible to be exact, but i think i may safely say that it requires at least ten years of growing before a seedling butternut tree will bear any nuts. of course, exceptions will occasionally occur. as a butternut tree matures, it spreads out much like an apple or chestnut tree. of course, it must have enough room to do so, an important factor in raising any nut tree. enough room and sunlight hasten bearing-age and insure larger crops of finer nuts. grafting valuable varieties of butternut on black walnut stock will also hasten bearing. i have had such grafts produce nuts the same year the grafting was done and these trees continued to grow rapidly and produce annually. however, they were not easy to graft, the stubborn reluctance of the butternut top to accept transplantation to a foreign stock being well known. this factor will probably always cause grafted butternut trees to be higher in price than black walnut or hickory. the reverse graft, i.e., black walnut on butternut should never be practiced for although successful, the black walnut overgrows the stock and results in an unproductive tree. specimens or more years old prove this to be a fact. butternut trees are good feeders. they respond well to cultivation and lend themselves to being grafted upon, although, from my own experience, i question their usefulness as a root stock. i have found that when i grafted black walnuts, english walnuts or heartnuts on butternut stock, the top or grafted part of the tree became barren except for an occasional handful of nuts, even on very large trees. since this has occurred throughout the many years of my nut culture work, i think it should be given serious consideration before butternut is used as a root stock for other species of nut trees. [illustration: _weschcke butternut. smooth shallow convolutions of shell allow kernels to drop out freely. drawing by wm. kuehn._] i had the good luck to discover an easy-cracking variety of butternut in river falls, wisconsin, in , which i have propagated commercially and which carries my name. a medium-sized nut, it has the requisite properties for giving it a varietal name, for it cracks mostly along the sutural lines and its internal structure is so shallow that the kernel will fall out if a half-shell is turned upside down. i received one of those surprises which sometimes occur when a tree is asexually propagated when i grafted scions from this butternut on black walnut stock. the resulting nuts were larger than those on the parent tree and their hulls peeled off with almost no effort. whether these features continue after the trees become older is something i shall observe with interest. [illustration: _self hulling butternut. weschcke variety. drawing by wm. kuehn._] the nearly self-hulling quality of these nuts makes them very clean to handle. the absence of hulls in cracking butternuts not only does away with the messiness usually involved, but also it allows more accurate cracking and more sanitary handling of the kernels. in i noticed a new type of butternut growing near the farm residence. this butternut was fully twice as large as the weschcke and had eight prominent ridges. the nut proved to be even better than the older variety and we intend to test it further by grafting it on butternuts and black walnut stocks. although hand-operated nutcrackers have been devised to crack these and other wild nuts, they are not as fast as a hammer. if one protects the hand by wearing a glove and stands the butternut on a solid iron base, hitting the pointed end with a hammer, it is quite possible to accumulate a pint of clean nut meats in half an hour. the butternut tree is one whose lumber may be put to many uses. it is light but very tough and stringy and when planed and sanded, it absorbs varnish and finishes very well. although not as dark in natural color as black walnut, butternut resembles it in grain. when butternut has been stained to represent black walnut, it is only by their weight that they can be distinguished. in late years, natural butternut has become popular as an interior finish and for furniture, being sold as "blonde walnut," "french walnut," or "white walnut," in my opinion very improper names. i see no reason for calling it by other than its own. depletion of forests of butternut trees brings its lumber value up in price nearly to that of fine maple or birch, approaching that of black walnut in some places. i have run several thousand feet of butternut lumber from my farmland through my own sawmill and used it for a variety of purposes. it is probably the strongest wood for its weight except spruce. i have used it successfully to make propellers which operate electric generators for deriving power from the wind. because butternut is so light and, properly varnished, resists weathering and decay to so great an extent, i have found it the best material i have ever tried for such construction. in building a small electric car for traveling around the orchards, i used butternut rather than oak or metal, which saved at least pounds of weight, an important matter since the source of the car's power is automobile storage batteries. butternut is very durable in contact with the ground and is used for fence posts on farms where it is plentiful. bird houses built of this wood will last indefinitely, even a lifetime if they are protected with paint or varnish. butternut is like red cedar in this respect, although much stronger. stories have been told of black walnut logs which, after lying unused for fifty years, have been sawed into lumber and found to be still in excellent condition. it is quite likely that the same could be said of butternut for these woods are very much alike in the degree of their durability and resistance to weather. an incidental value butternut trees have is their ability to bleed freely in the spring if the outer bark is cut. therefore, they can be tapped like maple trees and their sap boiled down to make a sweet syrup. it does not have the sugar content that the stabler black walnut has, however. another possible use is suggested by the shells of butternuts which, even when buried in the ground, show great resistance to decay. i have found them to be still intact and possessing some strength after being covered by earth for fifteen years. this indicates that they might be used with a binder in a composition material. their extreme hardness also offers a good wearing surface. [illustration: _electrically operated wagon constructed of native butternut wood known for strength and light weight as well as durability. author's sons aboard. photo by c. weschcke ._] not only good things can be said of the butternut tree and it would be wrong to avoid mentioning the deleterious effect that a butternut tree may have on other trees planted within the radius of its root system. i have had several experiences of this kind. one butternut tree on my farm, having a trunk six inches in diameter, killed every mugho pine within the radius of its root system. this amounted to between and pines. their death could not be attributed to the shade cast by the butternut as mugho pines are very tolerant of shade. as the first branches of the butternut were more than three feet off the ground, the pines could not have been influenced by the top system of the tree nor do i believe that it was due to fallen leaves, but rather directly to the greatly ramified roots. large evergreens, such as colorado blue spruce, native white pine, limber pine and jeffrey pine are known to have been similarly influenced. while small butternut trees do not, in my experience, have this effect, this may be explained by the fact that the radius of their root systems is much more limited. most plants, other than pines, thrive within the influence of butternut roots, however, and it certainly does not damage pasture grass as some of the country's best grazing land is among such trees. the damage results from a chemical known as juglone which is elaborated by the root system and when the roots of the butternut cross those of its evergreen neighbor, this acts as a poison to the evergreen and may kill it. [illustration: _an -foot propeller of butternut wood is the prime mover for wind power generator which in a brisk wind generated volts and amperes at rpm._] the butternut is attacked by one serious disease which is in the nature of a blight (melanconium oblongum), since it is transmitted through spores. it usually attacks old trees, the branches of the top part dying, and the bark on the main trunk becoming loose. the disease progresses slowly and i have seen large trees infected for twelve or fifteen years, continuing to bear fine crops. it does have a very weakening effect, though, and eventually saps the life from the tree long before its natural span of life of about fifty years is over. chapter pioneering with english walnuts in wisconsin the convention of the northern nut growers' association at geneva, new york, in , brought many interesting subjects to the attention of nut enthusiasts. none, however, commanded as much attention as an exhibit by paul c. crath, of toronto, of walnuts from the carpathian mountains in europe. there were more than forty varieties of walnuts represented in it, in sizes ranging from that of a large filbert to that of a very large hen's egg, and in shape being globular, ovate or rectangular. the exhibitor had these identified by varietal numbers until testing and propagation should suggest appropriate names. in several talks which rev. crath gave during the convention, he described his trips and findings in the walnut-producing sections of the polish carpathians. the subject remained in prominence during the three days of the convention and the idea was suggested that the association sponsor another trip to europe to obtain walnuts growing there which rev. crath considered even hardier and finer than the ones he had. the plan was tabled, however, for only two of us were eager to contribute to the venture. on my return home, i thought more about what a splendid opportunity this would be to procure hardy english walnuts to grow in this part of the country. i interested my father in the idea, and, with his backing, corresponded with rev. crath. this was not the first or the last time that my father, charles weschcke, had encouraged me and had backed his good wishes and advice with money. a professional man and a graduate of pharmacy and chemistry of the university of wisconsin, he showed an unusual interest in my horticultural endeavors. the immediate outcome was rev. crath's visit to my nursery at river falls, to determine whether material that he might collect could be properly tested there. to my satisfaction, he found that temperature, soil conditions and stock material were adequate for such work. we contracted with rev. crath to reproduce asexually all the varieties that he could discover and ship to us, agreeing to finance his trip and to pay him a royalty whenever we sold trees resulting from the plant material he sent us. we decided that the material which he was to gather should include not only english walnuts but also the hazels or filberts native to poland. the walnuts were to consist of about six hundred pounds of seeds, representing some forty varieties, several thousand scions and about five hundred trees. we planned that the filberts should consist of both trees and nuts, but because of a total failure of this crop the year that rev. crath was there, only trees were available. rev. crath left canada in october , and spent all of the following winter in poland. while he was there, i began the task of arranging for the receipt of the walnuts and hazels he was to send, and so began a wearisome, exasperating experience. first, it was necessary to obtain permits from the bureau of plant industry in washington. because of the vast quantity of material expected, these permits had to be issued in the names of five people. next, i engaged a new york firm of importers, so that no time would be lost in re-routing the shipment to the proper authorities for inspection. this firm, in turn, hired brokers who were responsible for paying all duty, freight and inspection charges. i certainly thought that we had everything in such readiness that there would be nothing to delay the shipment when it arrived. how wrong i was! although rev. crath had written me that the shipment had been sent on a certain polish steamer, i learned of its arrival only from a letter i received from the importing company, which requested that the original bill of lading and invoice be sent to them at once, as the shipment had already been in the harbor for a week but could not be released by the customs office until they had these documents. i had received the bill of lading from rev. crath but not the invoice, for he had not known that i would need it. so my valuable, but perishable, shipment remained in port storage day after day while i frantically sought for some way to break through the "red tape" holding it there. cables to rev. crath were undeliverable as he was back in the mountains seeking more material. in desperation, i wrote to clarence a. reed, an old friend, member of the northern nut growers' association and in charge of government nut investigations in the division of pomology at washington. through his efforts and under heavy bond pending receipt of the invoice, the walnut and filbert material was released and sent to washington, d. c. as there was too much of it to be inspected through the usual facilities for this work, it was necessary to employ a firm of seed and plant importers to do the necessary inspecting and fumigating. at last, terminating my concern and distress over the condition in which the trees and scions would be after such great delays and so many repackings, the shipment arrived in st. paul. there remained only the requirement of getting permission from the bureau of plant inspection of the state of minnesota to take it to wisconsin, where, if there was anything left, i intended to plant it. this permission being readily granted, we managed, by truck and, finally, by sled, to get it to the nursery about the middle of the winter. the following spring, we planted the nuts and trees and grafted the scions on black walnut and butternut stocks. the mortality of these grafts was the greatest i have ever known. of about four thousand english walnut grafts, representing some twenty varieties, only one hundred twenty-five took well enough to produce a good union with the stock and to grow. some of them grew too fast and in spite of my precautions, were blown out; others died from winter injury the first year. by the following spring, there were only ten varieties which had withstood the rigor of the climate. of the five hundred trees, only a few dozen survived. fortunately, this was not one of our severe, "test" winters, or probably none of these plants would have withstood it. the walnuts which were planted showed a fairly high degree of hardiness. of , seedling trees, our nursery is testing more than for varietal classification. these have been set out in test orchard formation on two locations, both high on the slope of a ravine, one group on the north side, one on the south. it has been suggested that from the remaining seedlings, which number thousands, we select to representative specimens and propagate them on black walnut stocks in some warmer climate, either in oregon, missouri or new york. this would determine their value as semi-hardy trees worthy of propagation in such localities. such an experiment will probably be made eventually. the same year, , in which i obtained the polish nuts, i also bought one hundred pounds of austrian walnuts, to serve as a check. eighty pounds of these consisted of the common, commercial type of walnut, while the remainder was of more expensive nuts having cream-colored shells and recommended by the austrian seed firm as particularly hardy. altogether these nuts included approximately one hundred varieties, twenty of which were so distinctive that their nuts could be separated from the others by size and shape. about two thousand seedlings grew from this planting, most of which proved to be too tender for our winter conditions. the seedlings grown from the light-colored nuts show about the same degree of hardiness as the carpathian plants. many of them have been set out in experimental orchards to be brought into bearing. after the first year, the english walnuts progressed fairly well. large trees, which had not been entirely worked over at first, were trimmed so that nothing remained of the original top, but only the grafted branches. the winter of - was not especially severe and mortality was low, although it was apparent that all of the varieties were not equally hardy. even a few of the scions grafted on butternut stocks were growing successfully. i had made these grafts realizing that the stock was not a very satisfactory one, to learn if it could be used to produce scionwood. as the results were encouraging, i decided it would be worthwhile to give them good care and gradually to remove all of the butternut top. each fall, the first two years after i had grafted all these walnuts, i cut and stored enough scionwood from each variety to maintain it if the winter should be so severe as to destroy the grafts. unfortunately, the grafts had developed so well, even to the actual bearing of nuts by three varieties, that in i did not think this precaution was necessary. then came our catastrophic armistice day blizzard, the most severe test of hardiness and adaptability ever to occur in the north. many of our hardiest trees suffered great injury from it, such trees, for instance, as colorado blue spruce, limber pine, arborvitae; cultured varieties of hickories, hiccans, heartnuts; fruit trees, including apples, plums and apricots, which bore almost no fruit the next summer. although not one variety of english walnut was entirely killed, all, except one, suffered to some degree, and it was not until late the following summer that several varieties began to produce new wood. the variety which showed the greatest degree of hardiness is "firstling," originally known as letter f. although the primary buds on the firstling were nearly all killed, very few of the small branches were affected and the union itself suffered no injury. second in hardiness is kremenetz, much of its top being killed, but its union being only slightly affected. no. was affected in about the same amount as kremenetz. increasing degrees of tenderness and, of course, decreasing degrees of hardiness, were shown by the many other varieties, some of which may never recover completely from the shock of that blizzard. the seedling trees suffered only slight damage so that i expect that they are hardy enough to produce fruit here. i cannot conclude this chapter without mentioning certain observations i have made regarding hardiness, which, although they require more specific study, i wish to describe as a suggestion for further experimentation by either amateur or professional horticulturists. my theory is that a determination of the hardiness factor of an english walnut tree can be made according to the color of its bark. i have seen that a tree having thin bark which remains bright green late into the fall is very likely to be of a tender variety. conversely, among these carpathian walnuts, i have found that varieties whose bark becomes tan or brown early in autumn show much more hardiness than those whose bark remains green. one variety, wolhynie, whose bark is chocolate brown, is very resistant to winter injury. another, whose green bark is heavily dotted with lenticels, shows itself hardier than those having none or only a trace of them. in testing almonds, i have found that trees whose bark turns red early in the fall are definitely more hardy than those whose bark remains green or tan. in observing apricots, i have learned that young twigs with red bark are more resistant to cold than those with brown. of course, these findings cannot be considered as facts until further studies have been made. i hope that others will find the idea of investigating this more-than-possibility as interesting as i do. as the years increased, however, the growth of the seedling walnuts decreased and some having made a nice tree-like form, with a trunk of approximately an inch in diameter, within a succession of years were reduced in size through the combination of winter injury and attacks by the butternut curculio as well as a bacterial blight until by only a fraction of the , seedlings remained, certainly less than , . all of the originally grafted specimens are dead with the exception of one variety which has been kept alive by constantly re-grafting it on black walnut. we have not named this variety as yet, although it has borne both staminate and pistillate bloom, it has never borne any ripe nuts. some of the seedlings, however, still show persistent traits of hardiness and of insect resistance and we still have hopes that after years these trees will yet overcome the adversities of this uncongenial climate for this species. chapter other trees heartnut the heartnut is a sport of the japanese walnut (juglans sieboldiana). since its nut is heart-shaped, it has the name of "cordiformis" added to its species name. there are many of these sports, some of which have been propagated under the varietal names of faust, lancaster, fodermaier, wright, walters, canoka, okay and gellatly. i think this is the most ornamental of all nut trees. in shape, it is similar to an apple tree, spreading out rather than growing tall, but its long, compound leaves give it a tropical appearance. during the autumn these leaves do not color any more than do those of the black walnut. the tree produces long racemes of red blossoms and its staminate blooms are catkins eight to ten inches long, which, when fully ripened, swish in the wind and release clouds of yellow pollen. the heartnut tree holds the interest of its owner closely during that time when the nuts resulting from the racemes of blossoms are steadily increasing in size. i have seen as many as sixteen nuts on one stem and doubtless, there sometimes are more. the owner of such a tree, at least if he is at all like me, will proudly exhibit it to all comers during the spring and summer seasons. and then, at harvest time, after the nuts have gradually changed from green to the dull yellow that indicates their maturity, he will have the satisfaction of shaking them down for drying and storage. the heartnut kernel tastes much like that of the butternut and its internal structure is almost the same but the outside shell is smooth. cultivated varieties usually crack easily and in such a way that the kernel is released in halves. from all this, it is easy to see that the heartnut is not only a beautiful tree but is definitely useful. in my own work with heartnuts i have found that, although they are to be classed only as semi-hardy, there are a few varieties which are hardy enough for northern temperatures. only testing will determine which ones can endure severe climates. in the spring of , i planted a lancaster heartnut grafted on a black walnut, but the weather was cold that season and it was killed down to the graft joint, where it threw out a sprout. this was weak and succulent by fall and the graft was entirely killed back that winter. i bought twelve more lancaster heartnuts a year later. they were interspersed in the orchard among some black walnuts. although a few survived the first winter, none ever lived to come into bearing. from time to time, i also experimented with seedlings sent to me by professor james a. neilson of vineland, ontario, who was interested in having them tested in this latitude. these, too, were always unsuccessful. i had my first success with several unnamed varieties of heartnuts i purchased in from j. u. gellatly of british columbia. these were grafted on black walnut stocks of considerable size. to insure their surviving the first winter, i built wooden shelters which completely enclosed them, filling these shelters with forest leaves and protecting them against mice with screen covers. no doubt this was a decided help; at least all of these heartnuts lived for many years until the invasion of the butternut curculio and the damage done by the yellow bellied sap sucker bird caused me the loss of all except one variety, the gellatly. this variety i have perpetuated by re-grafting on other black walnut stocks and by spraying and covering the limbs with screen to prevent the sap sucker from working on it, still have it in the nursery and at my home in st. paul where a young tree on the boulevard bears each year. i have found that heartnuts are difficult to propagate, the number of successful grafts i have made being far below that of black walnuts on black walnut stocks. the reason for this is not well understood any more than is the fact, in my experience, that the stabler walnut will graft readily and the ten eyck persistently refuses to. a good feature that these grafted trees do have, however, is their early productiveness. i have seen them set nuts the second year after grafting and this has also occurred in trees i have sold to others. when a nut of j. sieboldiana cordiformis is planted, it does not reliably reproduce itself in true type, sometimes reverting to that of the ordinary japanese walnut, which looks more like a butternut and has a rather rough shell as distinguished from the smooth shell of the heartnut. in hulling my heartnut crop for , i noticed many deformed nuts. the season had been a prolific one for nut production of all kinds, and i knew there had been a mixture of pollen in the air at the time these nutlets were receptive (a mixture made up largely of pollen from black walnuts, butternuts, with some english walnuts). since irregularities in size and shape indicate hybridity frequently and since heartnuts are easily hybridized i have assumed that these were pollinized by the mixture. i have planted these odd-shaped nuts and i expect them to result in many new crosses of j. sieboldiana cordiformis, some five to eight years from now. [illustration: _beautiful tropical looking japanese walnut (juglans sieboldiana cordiformis). variety gellatly, from westbank, b. c., canada. photo by c. weschcke._] to show how nature reacts to much interference i will follow through on these nearly small trees that resulted from this pollination. they were transplanted into an orchard on a side hill and well taken care of for several years, but during that time one after another was killed, apparently by winter conditions or perhaps the site was too exposed or the soil may have been uncongenial. today there remains but three trees, none of which have borne but all indicate that they are true heartnuts from the shape of the leaves and color of the bark and general formation. in order to hasten their bearing, scions have been taken from these small trees and will be grafted on large black walnut stocks to bring them into fruitfulness much earlier than if they were left to their own slow growth. this system of testing out seedlings long before they have reached a size sufficient to bear on their own roots is applicable to all of the species of nut trees and is one way that the plant breeder can hurry up his testing for varieties after making crosses and obtaining young plants. [illustration: _natural size heartnut. photo / / by c. weschcke. gellatly variety._] beechnut the beechnut, fagus ferruginea, belonging to the oak family, is one of the giants of the forest, growing to great size and age. even very old beech trees have smooth bark and this, in earlier and more rustic days, was much used for the romantic carving of lovers' names, as scars still visible on such ancient trees testify. the wood itself is dense and hard, even more so than hard maple, and is considered good lumber. beechnut is one of the few nut trees with a more shallow and ramified root system as contrasted with that of most, which, as in the oak, walnut and hickory, is a tap root system. this fact suggests that in those localities where beeches grow wild, grafts made on such trees, and transplanted, would survive and grow well. perhaps one of the reasons why very little propagation is done with beeches is that no outstanding variety has ever been discovered. although the nut shell is thin and the meat sweet and oily, the kernel is so small that one must crack dozens of them to get a satisfying sample of their flavor. this, of course, prevents their having any commercial value as a nut. there is also the fact that the beechnut is the slowest growing of all the common nut trees, requiring from twenty to thirty years to come into bearing as a seedling. of course this could be shortened, just as it is in propagating hickories and pecans, by making grafts on root systems which are ten or more years old, as explained in the chapter on heartnuts. however, i know of no nursery in which beechnuts are propagated in this way. my attempts to grow beechnut trees in wisconsin have met with little success. about the year , i obtained trees from the sturgeon bay nurseries. i planted these on level ground which had clay near the surface with limestone about a foot under it. although all of these trees seemed to start satisfactorily, some even growing about a foot, within two or three years they had all died. i decided they were not hardy but i now realize that the character of the soil was responsible for their gradual death; they should be planted in a limestone or calcareous soil, preferably of the fine sandy type, the main requisite being plenty of moisture because of their shallow root system. since then, i have purchased beechnut seeds several times from various seedsmen, but none of these seeds has ever sprouted. i think this is because beechnuts, like chestnuts, must be handled with great care to retain their viability. in , i ordered beechnut trees from the hershey nurseries of downingtown, pennsylvania. although these trees were set in sandy soil, there are now only about five of them alive, and of these, only four are growing well enough to suggest that they will some day become big trees. beechnuts must be protected against mice and rabbits as these species of rodents are very fond of bark and young growth of these trees and i have every reason to believe that deer are in the same category. oaks although the acorns produced by the red oak are very bitter and consistently wormy, those from the white oak are more edible. in my own exploring, i have found one tree, apparently a hybrid between the red and white oaks, which bears good acorns. the nuts, which are long and thin, are generally infested with weevils. if there were a demand for such a nut tree, i'm sure that it could easily be grafted on oak roots. during favorable seasons, when these edible nuts were of good size and free from worms, i have carried them in my pocket and enjoyed munching on them. i found that their flavor, like that of chestnuts, was improved by roasting. acorns are a balanced food and contain enough starch to make them readily assimilated, except for their bitterness. they are a good food for farm animals and chickens. i have kept a flock of goats in good condition by feeding them acorns during the winter. it isn't necessary to grind them for such use. i have read that indians at one time prepared acorns for their own use by storing them in bags submerged in cold running water. this not only extracted the bitterness but also it probably discouraged the development of weevil eggs. oak trees are generally prolific and are regular bearers, but of course, what they are widely known and loved for is the beauty of their leaves in the autumn. no one doubts their esthetic value, which will keep them forever popular whether they come into demand as a grafted nut tree or not. chestnuts another of our ornamental nut trees is the chestnut, also of the oak family, classified under the genus castanea, which grows into a large, beautiful tree with wide-spread branches. chestnuts do not grow well on limestone soil and always fail in the heavy blue clay so common on farm lands in this part of the country. it is best for their growth that the soil be gravelly and slightly acid. the chestnut has always been a good timber tree. its wood, although not as hard as the red oak, resembles it in grain. the beams of many old pioneer homes are found to be chestnut. it is said that this is one of few woods to give a warning groan under too heavy a burden before it cracks or breaks. chestnut wood is very durable in contact with the soil, outlasting all others except possibly black walnut and cedar. it contains so much siliceous matter in its pores that it quickly dulls chisels and saws used in working it. the chestnut trees at my nursery were grown from mixed hybrid seeds which i obtained from miss amelia riehl of godfrey, illinois. almost all of the seeds she first sent me, in , spoiled while they were stored during the winter. but miss riehl sent me more the following spring, many of which proved hardy. in , the oldest of these trees produced staminate bloom for the first time. i naturally expected a crop of nuts from it that year, but none developed. the same thing happened in . i then wrote to miss riehl about it, also asking her where to look for the pistillate blossoms. her reply was a very encouraging one in which she wrote that the pistillate blossoms appear at the base of the catkins or staminate blooms, but that it is quite a common thing for chestnut trees to carry the latter for several years before producing pistillate blossoms. she also explained that it was very unlikely that the tree would fertilize its own blooms, so that i should not expect one tree to bear until other nearby chestnuts were also shedding pollen. this occurred the next year and another chestnut close to the first one set a few nuts. it was not until that the tree which had blossomed first, actually bore nuts. in , i crossed the pistillate blossoms of this tree with pollen from a chinese variety called carr, resulting in half a dozen nuts which i planted. since the chestnuts in these parts do not bloom usually until early july we can expect chestnuts to be a more reliable crop than butternuts, for instance, which bloom very early in the spring about may to th. having had this reward for my efforts i took much more interest in chestnut growing and ordered trees of the chinese varieties, castanea mollissma from j. russell smith, h. f. stoke, and john hershey. some of these were seedlings and some were grafted trees, not over a dozen of them alive today and none have produced mature nuts. seemingly they have not been hardy although they have grown large enough to produce both staminate and pistillate blooms; they have never winter killed back to the ground, however. also, i have been planting nuts from all sources from which i could obtain them, mostly of the chinese chestnut type. some of these nuts were results of crosses, and showed their hybridity in the young seedlings that resulted there from. today i have perhaps of such young seedlings which i am pampering with the hope of getting something worthwhile from them. one of the big thrills of chestnut growing was the result of a chestnut that i picked up from a plant that was no higher than feet, growing at beltsville, maryland in the government testing ground there, in . my records show that this plant began to bear nuts in and have subsequently borne several crops in between the times that it was frozen to the ground and grew up again, which happened at least three times. like most chestnuts this one has to be pollinated by taking the staminate bloom from a dwarfed chestnut nearby whose bloom coincides with the blossoming of the female flowers of this chinese hybrid. chestnuts rarely set any nuts that produce mature seed from their own pollen but depend on cross-pollination. the nut from this hybrid is also the largest of any that i have grown and to my taste is a palatable one. it may not rank among the best ones of known varieties today, but for our climate i would consider it unusually large and good. experimentally, i have been able to produce new plants from this tree by layering young shoots coming from the roots. this generally requires two years to make a well-rooted plant before they are cut off and transplanted. this alternative of propagating by grafting or budding is considered a better method if it can be practiced, as it gives a plant on its own roots instead of the roots of some unknown seedling stock. [illustration: _hybrid chestnut; natural size, one of the two survivors of several dozen trees sent by the u. s. dept. of agriculture for testing this far north. fair size nut and it resembles the american sweet chestnut. photo by c. weschcke._] another tree that surprised me when it came into bearing proved to bear one nut in a burr which led me to believe that it was a chinquapin hybrid. later on, the habit of this tree changed somewhat and some of the burrs had more than one nut. i have found this to be the experience of others who have observed so-called chinquapin trees of a hybrid nature. it is my belief that the kind of pollen with which these blossoms are fertilized directly influences the number of nuts in a burr and sometimes the size of the nuts, again showing the importance of the cross-pollinating varieties when setting out an orchard of trees. this particular chinquapin type chestnut has upright growing habits different from a tree bearing similar nuts but having a very dwarfed habit. all of the nuts of the latter after six years of bearing can be picked off this tree by standing on the ground. there are several other trees bearing chestnuts, some large and some small nuts, all of which are interesting to me and may be important in the future of the chestnuts this far north since they indicate without doubt that the chestnut can accommodate itself to our climate, providing it has the right type of soil to grow in. in i acquired a -acre adjoining piece of land which has a much better chestnut growing site, being deep sandy soil, well drained, and yet not ever being dry. new varieties will be tested on this piece and should give much better results than the old trees which already were good enough to indicate success in chestnuts. [illustration: _a hybrid chestnut presumed to be a cross between european chestnut (castanea sativa) and its american cousin (castanea americana). actual size. photo by c. weschcke._] [illustration: _chinquapin hybrids from a tall growing tree. nuts grow in racemes of burrs with as many as burrs on one stem. photo by c. weschcke._] apricot if it were not that an apricot is a nut as well as a fruit, i should hesitate to include a description of my work with it. but the apricot seed has a rich kernel which, in many countries, for example, china, is used as a substitute for the almond to which it is closely related. it was in that my aunt, margaret weschcke, told me of an apricot tree growing in a yard on the mississippi river bluff in st. paul and said to be bearing fruit. i was quite skeptical until i saw the tree and also saw fruit from it which had been preserved by the woman who owned it. convinced of the hardiness of the tree, i was anxious to obtain scionwood but it was not until late that winter that i received permission to do so. it happened that a truck had broken off a large branch from the tree while delivering coal, and the owner very reasonably decided that taking a few twigs from it would not hurt it any more. i not only took the small branches that she was willing to sacrifice from her tree but also as many as possible from the branch which had been torn off, as its terminals were still in a fresh condition. i grafted these scions on hybrid plum trees where they took hold readily, and in , they began to bear prolifically. the apricots, which i have named harriet, in honor of my mother, are a fine-flavored fruit, medium in size. their cheeks are a mottled red with raised surfaces. their pits are well-formed and fairly edible. although the parent tree died the winter i took scions from it, my grafts have proved quite hardy, having received no injury when temperatures as low as ° below zero have occurred. since the parent tree died because its roots were severely frozen, it would seem that the top of the tree, in this case, was more hardy than the root system. this does occur sometimes, although it is unusual. in developing the factor of hardiness further in this apricot variety, i have taken advantage of something i had observed about other fruit trees. when one combines parts of two trees by grafting, it is a simple thing to select a hardy root stock from the available plants, just as i selected hardy plum stock on which to graft my apricot scions. this is not always possible in choosing scionwood, however, since scionwood is usually selected for such reasons as the quality of its fruit. it may happen that the top part of a tree is limited in its climatic scope because of its inability to withstand precipitate or otherwise unfavorable temperatures. having observed that certain grafted varieties of fruit trees, such as the wealthy apple, for instance, have gradually come to be planted much farther north than they originally were, i reasoned that this was because only the hardiest of them survived and these hardy ones therefore became the mother blocks for future grafting. this was an inescapable procedure which acted as a method of bud selection. i therefore assumed that by a careful choice of the hardiest among surviving twigs of the most recent graft of the harriet apricot, when particularly severe winter weather had caused some injury, i could induce extra-hardiness in future grafts. i also believe that i have added to the hardiness factor of the apricot by making frequent grafts. it is my theory that the root stock is able to exert some influence over the top other than mere maintenance of life. by frequently uniting a hardy stock with a less hardy top, i think that the individuality of the top part may be somewhat broken down and the extra characteristic of hardiness added to it. after the fifth re-graft of this apricot made in eight years, i am convinced by its appearance and behavior that it is capable of becoming a reliable apricot for the region around st. paul. today the apricot still exists grafted on plum at my nursery at river falls, wisconsin, and the weakness of the tree seems to be in the union between the top and the plum stock. if this union were not so corky and large and succulent it might be less injured by our winters; therefore it is quite apparent that the plum is not a congenial stock for an apricot, at least it does not produce a satisfactory union. i am now making tests with this same variety by grafting it on more hardy apricot seedling stock such as the prof. n. e. hansen of brookings, south dakota, introduces. chapter pests and pets the pocket gopher is an herbivorous animal which attains approximately the size of a gray squirrel. it has a sleek, grey-brown coat of fur which is almost as fine as that of the mole and would, i think, make a good quality fur except that the skin is too tender to stand either sewing or the wear that fur coats have to undergo. i learned this by trapping them and having a furrier try them out, as i knew that the quickest way to get rid of a pest is to eat it or use its hide. since i found its hide to be of no practical value, i enjoined my troop of boy scouts, a willing group of boys, to carry out my suggestions that they skin and prepare one of these animals in a stew. gophers are purely herbivorous and i thought they should be quite edible, but as i am a strict vegetarian myself, i had to depend on them to make this experiment. the boys followed instructions up to the point of cooking, but by that time the appearance of the animal had so deprived them of their enthusiasm and appetites that i had no heart to urge them to continue. i am still of the opinion, however, that to meat-eating people, the pocket gopher would taste as good as squirrel or pigeon. the first introduction i had to the devastating work that these animals can do in an orchard was when i was working among my young apple and plum trees one spring. i noticed that the foliage was turning yellow on many of them and upon investigation i found that the trees were very loose in the ground. at first i thought that planting operations and heaving of the ground by frost in the spring might be the cause, but in testing the looseness of one of these trees, i found that i could pull it out of the ground easily. there i saw what appeared to be the marks of an axe. i was completely convinced that i had personal enemies who went around nights chopping off the roots of my trees, for i knew that most of my neighbors were completely out of sympathy with my tree cultivation. in fact, farmers living in that section of the country were always poking fun at my nut tree plantings and orchard work, for their idea of what was proper on a farm was a treeless field of plowed ground. as i thought of all these things, i pulled up many other trees; in fact, there were dozens that were chopped off so that they could be completely pulled out. others still had one or two roots clinging to the main trunk and these i carefully replanted so that they would continue to live and grow. not long after the tragic day on which i found all these ravaged trees, i noticed, winding in and out close to the young orchard trees, the mounds which pocket gophers make when they tunnel under the ground. i followed some of these by digging into them with a shovel, and discovered that they led to the roots of trees, the very trees that had been chopped off and killed. my enemies were not human after all. sending for a pamphlet from the u. s. department of agriculture, i studied the material given about pocket gophers and their habits. i then began their systematic eradication, using about twelve steel muskrat traps. i succeeded in trapping, in one season, over thirty of them, at a time when they were so prolific and their holes so numerous that i could not drive a horse through the orchard without danger of breaking one of its legs. i also used poisoned grains and gases but i do not recommend them. trapping is the only method in which one obtains actual evidence of elimination. it took me many years to force the gophers out of my orchards and i still must set traps every fall, during september and october when they are most active. their habits are such that they do most of their tunnelling in the early fall months, before frost, during which time they expose and isolate the roots on which they intend to feed during the winter months when the ground is so hard that they cannot burrow further. this period is when they are most easily trapped. it was with the idea of establishing a balance of nature against these animals that i conceived the idea of importing bull snakes. almost everyone has heard of the bull snake, but its name is a poor one, for it has the wrong connotation. these snakes are actually a fine friend to the farmer since each snake accounts for the death of many rodents each year. their presence certainly was of definite value in decreasing the number at my farm. bull snakes have the long body typical of constrictors, sometimes reaching a length of nearly six feet at maturity, and being at the most an inch and one-half in diameter. this country had a natural abundance of such snakes at one time but ignorance and superstition have lessened their number so that it is now a rare thing to find one. during the early days of automobiles, these huge bull snakes, or gopher snakes, as i prefer to call them, would lie across the sunny, dusty roads, and drivers of cars delighted in running them down. since they are very docile, they are the least afraid of man of any members of the local snake family. they are slow in movement until they sense the immediate presence of their natural food, which is live mice, rats, gophers, squirrels, young rabbits, and sometimes, though rarely, birds. then it is they become alert, and the horny appendage on their tails vibrates with a high-pitched, buzzing sound, simulating, although not similar to, the sound of a poisonous rattlesnake. when i first brought some of these snakes to my farm, i loosed them and they wandered off to a neighbor's premises where they were promptly found and killed. later importations i confined to my basement, where i built an artificial pool with frogs and fish in it. however, i could never induce the bull snakes to eat any of these batrachians. they would, almost playfully, stalk the frogs, but at the moment when one was within reach, the snake would glide away. neither would the snakes, unless force-fed, eat anything they had not caught themselves. my children were delighted to have the snakes there and made pets of them. only once was one of the girls bitten when she attempted force-feeding. the bite was a mere scratch but we feared that it might be slightly poisonous. however, it healed so promptly that it was quite apparent that the bull snake's bite is not toxic. i, too, have had my skin slightly punctured by their teeth, but always the wound healed with no more pain or trouble than a pin prick. such is not at all the case when a person is nipped by a squirrel or gopher. i have purposely allowed a pocket gopher to bite me, to determine what the effects are. the pain was severe and healing was slow. once, bitten by a gray squirrel when i reached into a hollow tree to get it, i received such a wound that fever started in my whole hand. its teeth punctured a finger-nail and were stopped only by meeting the bone. such bites i consider rather poisonous. rabbits also committed much damage at my nursery by gnawing the bark of my trees, especially during times of deep snow. they did not bother the walnuts particularly, but were very fond of hickories and pecan trees. on the smallest ones, they cut branches off and carried them away to their nests. on larger trees, they gnawed the bark off of most of the lower branches. this was dangerous but seldom fatal, whereas the gnawing of mice, near the base of the trunks, was such that in some cases when complete girdling occurred, it was necessary to use bridge-grafting to save the trees. this consists of connecting the bark immediately above the roots with the bark above the girdled portion, so that the tree can receive and send the food substances it elaborates to its upper and lower parts. rabbits and mice, therefore, had to be dealt with. of course, one could go hunting for rabbits and later eat them. this was one task i had my employees do. i, myself, was unwilling to take an active part in it, although still intent on saving my trees in spite of my pity for the little animals. placing hundreds of cans in the orchard, with a pinch of poisoned wheat and oat mixture in each, helped to eradicate the mice. the bait was placed inside the cans to prevent birds from being poisoned, and the cans were tipped at an angle so that water would not enter them. to be absolutely sure of preventing mice damage, one should provide each tree with a screen guard. i have made about , screen protectors for my trees for this purpose. i have also trapped rabbits which we were not able to shoot and i conceived the idea of painting the traps with white enamel. when these were set on the snow around those trees which the rabbits attacked, they worked very successfully. the traps were a size larger than the common gopher trap, but were not expensive. there are other ways of catching rabbits or curtailing their activities, but on my list, shooting comes first, with trapping as a second effective measure. squirrels, although they do no damage to the trees themselves, except on rare occasions, are a definite nuisance when they come in large numbers and cut down nuts before they are ripe. they do this to hickory nuts, and apparently are very fond of the half-ripened nuts. i have seen squirrels chew hickory buds and young sprouts of hickory grafts and i had to trap several before i stopped them from doing this to certain ornamental trees in our garden. in fact, when one has a large nut orchard, squirrels will be attracted in number that preclude the possibility of harvesting a crop unless measures are taken to banish them. they are very active early in the morning and my experiences indicate that two or three people should hunt them together, as they are very clever at dodging a single hunter. i also have built galvanized metal guards around isolated trees which prevent squirrels from climbing them. in speaking of mice, we have two important species commonly known as the meadow mouse and the other species known as the white-footed mouse. the meadow mouse is the one that does so much damage to the orchard trees and young nursery stock if unprotected, and the white-footed mouse may be responsible for some of this when present in great numbers, but of the white-footed mouse this much good can be said: [illustration: drwg. by wm. kuehn. _squirrel guards._] much of its diet, especially of the mother mouse during the time that she is nursing her young ones, is made up of insects. a personal experience accentuates this. since these are such pretty little creatures, having such cunning ways, it was my ambition to catch a complete family of mother and young ones which sometimes numbered as high as ten. my ambition was finally gratified and i was able to get a mother of eight and her tiny mouslings, which have a habit of fastening themselves securely to her breasts while she runs about, and drags them all along in a most ludicrous fashion. at times, under these circumstances, the combined weight of the brood exceeds that of the mother mouse but they are exceptionally strong creatures for their size, a mature mouse being able to jump out of a -foot barrel with one leap. in observing this brood of mice, i was particularly anxious to see what kind of a diet they throve on and tried the mother's appetite with tidbits from the table. while she ate most everything, it soon became apparent that something was wrong because the young ones became weaker, finally to the extent that they were unable to nurse, and one morning i found several on their backs with their feet feebly waving in the air indicating that they were dying of starvation. at about that time i was drying some hazelnuts on a flat back porch floor and in sweeping them up found a lot of alive and dried up larvae which had escaped from the shells. just for fun, i swept this material up and threw it into the mouse cage. the reaction of this treatment was gratifying, for the mother mouse pounced upon this insect life greedily devouring everything. within three days, the young mice were all in good health and running around showing that the milk produced from the diet that i had been giving the mother was inadequate for the baby mice. it is therefore to their credit to state that these mice and probably at times the meadow mice do consume large quantities of larvae and grubs in the surface soil, as well as mature active insects, such as crickets and grasshoppers. how to prepare rodent protectors for trees . cut " strips from " wide roll of galvanized screen with a x mesh. . cut strips in half to make two protectors from each strip. . make bundles of each by running wire through protectors. . dip these bundles in a solution containing pounds of red lead per gallon of linseed oil. use from to gallons of this solution. . remove bundles and hang them on a pole with a drip pan beneath to catch the solution, which can be used again. allow bundles to drip for hours, then separate each protector and place on grass for a few days to dry. . roll each protector around a / " pipe or broomstick and it is ready for the tree. [illustration: drwg. by wm. kuehn. _preparation of screen guards._] in dealing with wild creatures, one must forebear condemning a whole species of animals merely because at times they become troublesome, for the main purpose of their existence, like owls, hawks and crows, they may be more beneficial than otherwise. a good word should be said here for skunks and moles. a great deal of the skunk diet is insect life. the same is true of the mole whose diet probably consists of % insects, mostly in their larval state. this is an important feature of mole and skunk as they dig these insects out before they mature into winged female adults which may lay hundreds of eggs. if these larvae should be allowed to develop into a mature winged insect that would lay eggs, this particular insect would multiply itself hundreds of times over and it would take many more birds than at present exist to take over the big job of keeping the balance between necessary insect life and a surplus which would be destructive to all plant life. we can never hope to eradicate all insect life which we deplore as being deleterious to the interests of mankind, and it is mighty well that we cannot do this for the insects are as important to us as all other life, for without them we would be unable to produce the vast quantities of foods that are now dependent upon such insect life. it is true that they take their toll of the food that they are instrumental in sometimes producing but when one attempts to unravel the mystery of balance of nature one is confronted by the big question of how far to go in the eradication of both animals and insect pests. before man's interference the wild crops were plentiful and balances were kept in harmony by vast multitudes of frogs and toads, birds and rodents, all of which have been slaughtered and reduced by such amounts as to endanger man's food supply, forcing him to resort to poison sprays and other measures in order to hold destruction in check. all of this expense and trouble he could have avoided if he had been sensible enough to observe the natural checks and foster the natural procedure of which nature is the best guide. chapter storing and planting seeds most nut tree seed requires ideal storage conditions to preserve its germinating power or viability. under natural circumstances, such nuts as black walnuts, english walnuts, butternuts, hickory nuts, pecans, hazelnuts, filberts and almost all other nuts, will be planted by squirrels, mice and other rodents. although most of these will be eaten by the animals who buried them, a large percentage of the ones which are not eaten will sprout. the sprouts which achieve maturity and bearing age, however, will be only a very small percentage--some say only a fraction of %--of the number that sprouted. this is an expensive and wasteful method, horticulturally speaking, but it does indicate that it is best to plant nuts as soon as possible after they have properly ripened and been dried. after walnuts, hickory nuts, butternuts and hazels have been gathered, they should be dried until the hulls have lost most of their moisture. the husks should be removed from filberts before they are dried. while this preparation is not essential, nuts are less likely to mold if they are dried somewhat before they are planted. however, i have planted freshly-gathered black walnuts and butternuts and most of them sprouted. if nuts are to be stored in large quantities, the drying-out process is absolutely essential and should be carried to the point of completely drying the hulls. the system i followed in doing this is to gather the nuts after they have fallen and spread them out in the sunlight on roofs or floors where air can circulate around them. after the hulls are dry, such nuts as black walnuts, english walnuts and butternuts may be put in barrels or burlap bags and stored in an unheated basement without seriously deteriorating. english walnuts are most safely stored when they are hulled before being packed in burlap bags. these bags should be suspended above the floor of the cellar by a rope or wire. these are additional precautions which allow better circulation of air, further prevention of mold, and safety from mice and squirrels. chestnuts, beechnuts and acorns require more care when they are to be stored, for their viability is very sensitive to dryness. i have found that these soft-shelled species of nuts should be treated in a different manner than the walnut and hickory types of seeds if we are to get the most out of their germination. since chestnuts are very prone to molding or rotting, the best way to maintain their viability and freshness over winter is to stratify them in a can or box between layers of a peat moss. this peat moss must be decidedly on the acid side and must be dampened, but must not be so wet that you can wring any water out of it. the best way to prepare this dry peat moss is to soak it in water and wring as much water out of it as possible by squeezing with your hands. then mix it with half as much of the undampened peat. this will give you approximately the right moisture coefficient. if stored in cans, the bottom of the can must be punctured with a few holes about / of an inch in diameter, well distributed on the bottom to act as a drain and to admit some slight circulation of air. the same thing should be done with the cover. first, put down an even layer about - / inches of this dampened moss, then put in a layer of chestnuts or other nuts to be stratified, placed evenly or well distributed but not touching each other. after the first layer, carefully sift in more dampened moss about inch thick and repeat the process until either the can is full or all the seeds have been stored. the last layer should be a -inch layer of peat moss before the cover is placed on. now the important thing about all this is to place this can in a storage room of low temperature and yet it should not freeze solid. but in a temperature of from to degrees is ideal and preferably it should be on the ground floor so as to maintain the moisture that is already stored in the seed and the moss. a mechanical refrigerator which would constantly dehydrate might eventually dry them out too much for good germination; otherwise such a refrigerator would be ideal for the storage of small amount of seeds of this kind. it would be well from time to time to inspect these seeds to see whether they were in good condition and check the temperatures as well. if they start to sprout all the better; they can then be planted with the sprout downward and the nut barely covered with earth. some years i have had sprouts nearly six inches long on my chestnuts which had been so stored and care will have to be taken not to break the sprout when transplanting the nuts. in planting nuts, great care must be taken not to plant them too deeply. large nuts, such as black walnuts, butternuts and english walnuts, are often planted with a small part of the nut still exposed. certainly, the depth of the soil over a nut should never exceed the thickness of the nut. most seeds develop best when they are planted just under the surface of the soil. the earth should be lightly tamped around the planted seeds to eliminate air-pockets. a thin coating of manure, not more than three inches deep, is valuable if large seeds are planted but it is detrimental to the development of small seeds and manure should never be used for evergreens. seeds of the nut pines, usually purchased from seedsmen and received in a dry state, should be planted no deeper than their own diameter in a light, sandy loam. a seed bed, incidentally, is a very necessary protection against rodents in the case of nut pine seed. i have used a mixture of bone meal on such seeds with good results. four quarts of bone meal carefully worked into the first two or three inches of the surface soil of a x seed bed greatly increases its fertility. sifted hardwood ashes scattered over the bed after the seed is in, will discourage cutworms and increase the potash content of the soil. proper drying and storage are of no use if nuts are not planted where they will have protection against rodents, improper drainage, and other hazards. to keep them from being eaten by rodents, nut seeds should be planted under wire screens inside a deep frame. the seed beds i have made for use in my nursery are four feet wide and twelve feet long. by using heavy galvanized hardware cloth x mesh, which means that it has / -inch square holes, is ideal for the top and sides of this frame. by using this wire cloth feet wide, inches is sunk under the ground surface, and only inches protrudes above. this is to prevent burrowing rodents from going underneath and extracting the seeds which you will find they will do unless the screen protection goes down deep enough into the ground to discourage them. a stout frame of rot-resisting wood, such as cedar or fir should be placed on the inside of this countersunk screen. this should also be feet wide, feet long so that a similar frame, which is removable, can be placed over this. the edges of the frame should match perfectly so that no rodents can reach the interior of the seed bed without going down - / feet under ground to burrow under the countersunk screen. several thousand evergreens or several hundred walnut trees can be raised in a seed bed this size. the soil is now removed from the inside of this enclosure or stationary part of the bed to the depth of inches so that the plants will have head room to develop leaves and stems and still be protected under the top or removable frame part. the top frame made of the same material and covered also by the x hardware cloth should be about inches in height so that there will actually be inches of head room for the plants to grow in before touching the screen. [illustration: _this x foot corrugated galvanized iron fence - / feet tall and sunk inches into ground protects valuable hybrids against invasion by rodents. photo by c. weschcke._] there are several important points to remember in starting a seed bed. it must be in a well-drained site, so that the seeds will not be under water or water-logged for any length of time. it should be in an open place where sunlight is plentiful, unless evergreens are being grown. evergreens must be in half-shade the first season to avoid a condition known as "damping off." the top six inches of soil in the bed should be the best garden soil obtainable, the growth resulting from using good, clean soil, free from weed seeds, being worth the trouble of preparing it. by having the bed in two parts, with a cover that may be taken off, proper weeding can be done when necessary. the cover should always be replaced afterward, though, as rodents will sometimes attack the young shoots and the remainder of the seed kernel. in the spring of the second season of growth, the young plants may be dug up and lined out in nursery rows. after two or three years more, they may be planted in permanent locations. chapter tree planting methods since nut trees usually have deep, well-developed root systems of the taproot type, they are more difficult to transplant than such trees as plum, apple, elm or maple which have many small fibrous roots. taproots have a long, main trunk like a parsnip, from which lateral roots branch. these roots are heavy and may extend deep into the ground even in trees only two or three years old. in moving such a tree, the lower part of the central taproot must, of course, be cut off, but as many of the side roots as possible are retained. because such roots have no fibrous or hair-root system, their handling during transplantation necessarily differs from that of the ordinary shade or fruit tree. if trees having a taproot system, such as the english walnut, black walnut, butternut, hickory or pecan, are received with bare roots, they should be treated in the following way: immediately after the trees have been unpacked, their roots should be submerged in a barrel of water for several hours. after their thirst has been quenched, the roots should be dipped into a mixture of clay and water made to the consistency of thick paint. with a heavy coating of wet clay around them, the roots may then be wrapped in wet burlap sacks. they are now ready to be transported to their planting site. selecting a favorable location for nut trees is very important. they should never be planted at the bottom of a gulch or valley because, in such places, frost pockets may occur which will interfere with both blossoming in the spring and ripening of nuts in the fall. nut trees grow best near the summit of a hill. although such soils are difficult to plant in, stony soil or soil overlaid with limestone results in good growth. shallow surface soil, underlaid with heavy clay, will usually slow down the growth of a young tree so that it remains dwarfed for many years. it is more satisfactory to have at least three feet of soil before clay is reached. if the soil is light and sandy, it will be improved by adding black dirt immediately around the roots of each tree. as most nut trees ultimately grow to be very large, they should be planted at least forty feet apart. the hole dug to receive each tree should be wide and deep enough to accommodate the roots without bending or twisting them. if the excavated soil is of poor quality, it should be discarded, and good, rich soil brought in for setting the tree. trees should not be planted too deeply. the collar of a tree, which is a discoloration of its trunk resulting from contact with the ground, indicates how much of the tree was previously underground. although it is a good idea to plant so that this collar is a little lower than the surface to allow access to extra moisture, the actual planting depth should be about as it was previously in the nursery. all broken or damaged parts on the roots should be trimmed smoothly with pruning shears. such clean cuts will send out new rootlets to replace the lost ones. after a tree has been set into the hole made for it, the soil, which should be thoroughly mixed with a quart of bone meal to increase its fertility, is replaced a little at a time. it must be packed very solidly about the roots with a rounded tamping stick to avoid leaving air pockets. i find it advisable to retamp the earth about each tree two or three times during the first year's growing season, to insure intimate contact between soil and roots. planting should be delayed if the soil is very wet. trees will stay in good condition for several days, if the burlap sacks are kept moistened. wet, soggy soil is certain to shrink away from the roots and leave air pockets which will, in time, kill the trees. if trees are transplanted during a very dry season, they should be thoroughly watered. to do this, remove several shovelfuls of dirt from the ground about a foot from the tree, being careful not to cut any roots. fill this hole with water and after the water has seeped away, fill it two more times. the tree should receive about five gallons of water. sprinkling with a hose does not suffice. if dry weather continues, each tree should be watered in this way every week. nurserymen in the future will have to deal with this transplanting problem in a different way than the old time nurserymen who handles fruit trees. a suggested way to improve the root system and at the same time make it easy to lift the tree with a ball of dirt, similar to the way an evergreen is transplanted, is to prepare a pocket of special transplanting soil previous to the lining out (which is the term used by nurserymen in setting out seedlings preparatory to grafting them in nursery rows). a suggested balanced soil for making the method practical is to use / by volume of peat moss; the other half should be rich, black sandy loam with very little clay mixture in it. in other words, each nut tree should be allowed about a bushel of soil for its development, / bushel to be peat moss, the other half bushel to be represented by rich black loam. this mixture will encourage many fibrous roots to develop and when the tree is dug, approximately all of this bushel of soil will be retained around the roots. having such a high proportion of peat moss makes it lighter than ordinary ground; such a ball and the tree will weigh approximately from to pounds which can be shipped by freight at a low rate and is well worth the extra price that nurserymen must ask for a specimen of this kind. such trees have really never been unplanted and for this reason do not suffer the shock which is inevitable in the usual transplanting process. although pre-planted trees are more expensive to buy and to transport, their improved chances of living make them worth the price. the above recommendation is especially applicable to young grafted hickory trees since they are among the most difficult trees to transplant satisfactorily. the english walnut (persian), black walnut, butternut and especially the hickory are improved by the use of a handful of ground lime mixed with the soil in preparing these pockets which will later constitute the ball surrounding the roots of the tree to be transplanted. there is a tendency in grafted trees to produce sprouts below the graft. unless these are rubbed off, the grafted portion will become discouraged and the tree will revert to a seedling variety. filberts should never be allowed more than two or three stems, or trunks, while one is more preferable. if they are allowed to have more, they will produce a rank growth of wood but only a few, if any, nuts. i stress, by repeating, that trees should not be planted too deeply and that great care must be taken to eliminate air pockets. extra effort and nursing of transplanted trees during the first season will be repaid by their successful development and growth. it is a wise precaution to place a protective screen around the trunk of each tree to prevent rodents from attacking it. mice gnaw off the bark near the ground, sometimes girdling a tree and so killing it. rabbits chew off branches and they, too, may girdle the upper part of a tree. rabbits are very fond of pecan and hickory bark. in some places, it may be necessary to encircle each pecan and hickory tree with a three or four-foot rabbit fence until the tree is large enough to lose its appeal to these nuisances. compared with the number of insects which infest fruit trees, very few attack nut trees. one of those which does is the walnut-leaf caterpillar. these appear as a closely congregated group of small worms which feed on the leaves of black walnut and hickory trees during the latter half of the summer season. very often they are all to be found on a single leaf, which should be picked from the tree and crushed underfoot. a simple spray of lead arsenate of the strength recommended by companies selling spray material, will effectively rid trees of these pests. another insect often found in a nut orchard is the oak tree girdler, which also is active in the latter part of the summer. it often causes limbs as large as an inch in diameter to be cut through and to fall to the ground. by removing such freshly girdled branches and cutting into the hollow made by the larva, it is possible to find the live worm and destroy it. a good way to combat this pest is to keep each tree pruned of all dead branches and to burn all broken and dead wood each fall. while some nut trees are subject to other insects, the two described here are the most frequently found. fortunately, they are easily controlled if a watch is kept for them. chapter winter protection of grafts and seedlings it is not enough to make a successful graft and to watch it carefully during the growing season, picking all sprouts off the stock, spraying it so that insects will not chew the tender leaves and bark, bracing it against windstorms and perching birds. each graft must also be protected from winter injury. for many years i have studied and experimented to find a successful way of achieving such protection. to enumerate my many experiments, from simple to far-fetched, would be to write another book quite as long as this one. my conclusion, now, is that there is little one can do to assist nature in the process of acclimatizing grafted plants and seedlings. i have repeatedly noticed that the place where most damage is done by the cold is at the union between stock and graft. for example, i observed this on the european walnuts, imported from poland, grafted to minnesota black walnut stocks. although both the buds and the wood of the top remained fresh and green, the unions suffered severe, and sometimes total winter injury. in grafts where the latter occurred, the dead cells soon caused the wood to ferment and sour. occasionally, a small group of healthy cells succeeded in re-establishing circulation with the unharmed, grafted top and the graft, continuing its growth, would eventually overcome the injury it had suffered. i have seen this occur with grafts of english walnut, apricot and pecan. a blackbird's nest in the crotch of a small tree suggested to me the most satisfactory guard i have yet found against this greatest of dangers to all exotic, grafted varieties of nut trees. the nest, which enclosed over half of the graft union, was partly composed of woolen fibers which its builder had gathered from barbed-wire fences that sheep had brushed against. on the exposed portion of the graft union, discoloration indicated injury and dead cells, but on that part covered by the nest, all the cells were alive and green. i have improved on the bird's nest by wrapping a large wad of wool loosely around each graft union. the value of wool is that it will not collect moisture and so start fermentation. it allows the cells to breathe, yet protects the union from the shock of temperature extremes. birds will inevitably steal some of the strands of wool but this activity in and about the trees means a decrease in injuries from insects--a worthwhile exchange. when an unusually large swelling at the graft union appears, it is certain that the plant needs protection such as i have described. such swellings result from a too-rapid multiplication of cells, a condition which leaves the union weak and susceptible to injury. although a union is never entirely safe, even after many seasons of growth, each year adds to the safety factor by the development of rough, cork-like bark. i suggest the use of a woolen guard for several winters, by which time this outer bark should be able to do its protective work alone. a successful but rather expensive method of winter protection, both to the graft itself and its union with its host, is to enclose the entire tree with a box-like structure consisting of four corrugated aluminum roofing sheets set up on their ends and countersunk into the ground about six inches. the purpose of countersinking these below the ground surface is two-fold: it stiffens and braces the structure and prevents the intrusion of mice and other rodents, which may also appreciate both the shelter and possible food supply contained therein. by fastening these sheets together with a stout wire you can depend on the structure to stand up against wind and snow pressures. fill the entire inside with forest leaves, oak leaves preferred, as their insulating quality is the best and they are slow to rot and ferment. when working with semi-hardy plants in a cold climate, avoid fertilizing and cultivating the ground after the first of august. doing so stimulates late growth and such growth is very likely to be badly injured during the winter months. if fertilizer is used, it should be early in the spring, as soon as the ground is free from frost. trees which persist in growing late into the fall are more subject to winter injury. protective measures to avoid their doing so by inducing an earlier dormancy, include keeping the soil around them dry and exposing, somewhat, the roots near the trunk of each tree. my last word of advice in raising what might be termed semi-hardy trees, is to grow them in sod, the ordinary quack grass, june grass, bluegrass or other natural grass sods which can be found on your planting site. although this will probably hold back your tree development for a few years, until the roots are thoroughly established in the deeper soil beneath the sod roots, it is surprising how many species of trees will thrive in sod and perish on open cultivated ground. i can give no better example of this than relating a circumstance which bears this out in a most convincing way. in i purchased about filbert seedlings from samuel graham of ithaca, new york. these were planted out on a field site and practically all of the plants made good growth the first year. they were thoroughly cultivated. the next year a second batch of plants of a like amount were purchased from the same man and of the same kind of seedlings. mr. graham told me that these were seedling trees from jones hybrid seeds which he had growing in his orchard. these plants were put on heavy sod ground; all plants were protected by screens, but the plants on the sod ground were subject to a very wet season and it was necessary to build up the soil around some of the plants in order to save them from being drowned out. today about plants are living on the sod culture and two or three barely alive exist in the open field culture. although the plants remaining alive on the sod culture plot are almost pure filbert strain they are therefore very subject to the common hazel blight. some have grown into bushes feet high which later were hit by blight and have been reduced to small bushes. others are producing good filbert-type nuts and are somewhat blight resistant, but the main fact to remember is that about / of the plants on sod culture lived, whereas not over % are alive of the open field culture plants. the distance between these plantings is approximately / of a mile. in addition to being placed in sod these filberts which have survived are sheltered by rows of evergreen trees both on the south and on the north side which may be construed as of some assistance but is not altogether the reason for the tremendous difference between the winter protection value of sod and open field culture. this is not the only example that i could cite but is one of the most outstanding ones which has come to my attention. sod culture is now being recommended to fruit orchardists in this part of the country and in my own experience, i can highly recommend it for apples, plums, pears, mulberries and nut trees. chapter tree storage if it is necessary to store trees through the winter months, one of several procedures may be followed. if the trees are quite small, their tops may be dipped in melted paraffin or beeswax, not hot enough to injure the buds. if the trees are too large for this to be practical, wax may be painted on with a brush. roots should be protected by heeling them in dirt. an unheated cellar with a dirt floor is a very satisfactory place for storing trees. select a corner of the cellar far from any source of heat or temperature change. place the trees so that the roots are pointing toward the basement wall. cover the roots to a depth of six inches with either sand or sandy loam, packing the soil firmly to eliminate air pockets. lastly, cover the trees completely with burlap sacks. once every two weeks, the earth around the roots should be watered. trees maintained in this way are conveniently ready to plant when the ground thaws out in the spring. another and better method of storing trees is to plant them outside in a trench, preferably on the north side of a building, having first waxed them as described above. one side of the trench should slope so that the trees will lie in an oblique position with their branches touching the ground. the roots of these trees should be covered with dirt, then more trees set alongside them, until all have been planted and the earth made firm about their roots. trees will usually suffer no damage during such winter storage if their roots have been properly packed in sand or sandy loam. six or more cans, each containing a little poisoned grain, should be set among the branches. if these cans are laid on their sides, rodents will have easier access to the poison. the branches of the trees should then be well covered with straw or hay, with heavy boards laid on top to keep it from blowing away. if trees are received for planting after the ground has frozen, all that is necessary is to build a log fire on the side where they are to be heeled in. this will thaw out the soil enough so that a trench can be made to accommodate them. chapter suggestions on grafting methods grafting, including budding, may be defined as inserting a piece of wood which carries buds of a desired variety, on a root stock sufficiently compatible to accept it, for the purpose of propagation. methods vary, each nurseryman having one or more which he prefers, but the principle is always the same. scionwood may be cut the fall before grafting is to be done, after the growing season has ended, but some prefer to cut the scions in early spring. this means that the scions must be stored until time to graft, and correct storage is so important that nurserymen make elaborate provision for it. i have found that keeping scions underground in a harrington graft storage box is the safest method. an illustration of this box is given, with directions for its construction and location. a small quantity of scions may be kept in an icebox (not a mechanical refrigerator), by cutting them into convenient lengths of one or two feet, dipping them in melted beeswax, wrapping them in tar or asphalt paper and placing them close to the ice. they will remain in good condition for several months if there is always a good supply of ice. care must be taken in dipping the scions in melted wax, for if the wax is too hot it will injure the buds. it should never become so hot that it smokes. i find it advisable to keep an unmelted piece of wax in the liquid wax to hold the temperature down. another method of storing scions, after they have been dipped in beeswax, is to place them on the earth of a cellar floor and cover them with a few burlap sacks. they should never be allowed to become wet or they will start to mold. if they are to be stored in this way, a watch must be kept for mice which will molest them and destroy them if they have an opportunity. although bud wood may be stored in any of the three ways mentioned, it should not be waxed. because of this, it is more likely to deteriorate. it must be examined frequently and if mold is found, the wood should be dipped in a bordeaux solution. after drying, it may be placed in storage again. it is a good plan to wrap bud wood in tar or asphalt paper when storing it. however, i have found that the best storage conditions for all scionwood that i have yet discovered is in the use of peat moss. peat moss must be on the distinctly acid side in order to perform the function of storing scionwood. most peat moss is generally acid; however the simple litmus paper test with which every high school pupil is familiar, can be made. having acquired good acid peat moss, dampen a sufficient quantity to pack the scions in to give them liberal protection. do not make the bundles of scionwood too large, from to scions in a bundle is better than a large number and much easier to handle. the moss should be prepared exactly the same as advised in storing chestnuts (see chapter for storing seeds). in this case it is not necessary to wax the scions at all. the moss should be applied by sifting it into the open spaces between the scions and a larger wad at the base of the cuttings, not at the terminal or bud ends as these would be better left unpacked. the package is now rolled into a cylinder, using tar paper or asphalt treated paper, and both ends left open. do not use ordinary paper or wax paper as it will turn moldy. cylinders of tar paper containing the packed scions should be placed in a damp room like a cellar with a dirt floor which is cold enough to keep potatoes and other roots in good condition throughout the winter. if the cellar is not a good storage cellar for roots and herbs it will not be good enough for the scionwood as it will be too warm generally. neither should they be frozen solid, therefore if a good root cellar is not obtainable then these should be put in the harrington graft box already described or placed under the sawdust in an icehouse and close to the ice. an old-fashioned ice refrigerator will also make a good storage bin, placing them close to the ice at all times. [illustration: drwg by wm. kuehn. _making a scarf with a plane preparatory to grafting._] selection of good scionwood and bud wood, a very important matter, is made according to definite standards. some plants graft better if wood is used that has two seasons' growth, but, in general, wood of the current season's growth is used. it must have reached its maximum possible maturity before it is cut. also, some attention should be paid to the vigor of the growth which it has made during the season. for instance, in choosing between wood which has made only two or three inches' growth and that which has made a foot or more of growth, both being equally sound and mature, the more vigorous should be chosen. attention should be paid to the development of the buds, which should be plump and never immature. it is advisable to label scions before they are stored to avoid the confusion that will result if they are mixed. i find that the best method of doing this is to get a sheet of zinc, from to gauge thick, and cut it into strips one inch wide by one and three-quarters inches long. i bore a small hole in one corner of each tag, through which i thread -gauge copper wire, doubled and with the bottom loop folded over (see page ). in preparing these tags, it is important to remember that both wires must pass through the hole in the metal tag, otherwise, the slight movement due to winds will cause the metal to wear through. two wires prevent this action indefinitely. since a small wire cuts through a zinc tag in one or two years, heavy wire must be used. wire such as i have indicated is satisfactory. i print the necessary information on each tag with a small, steel awl, and such labels are still legible after twenty-five years. copper, brass or aluminum would also make good tags, but these metals are more expensive. of course, these tags may be used for small trees as well as grafts and scionwood and it is always well to do a good job of labeling all work, since many errors may result from disregard to this important detail. in the north, the time to graft nut trees is when the cambium layer of the host, or stock, is active, which is usually during the entire month of may. this cambium layer consists of those cells lying just inside of the outer bark, between it and the woody part of the tree. when these cells are active, the inner side of the bark feels slippery and a jelly-like substance can be scraped from it. although this is the state in which the stock should be for grafting, the condition of the scions should be almost the opposite, rather dry and showing no signs of cambium activity. the bark should cling firmly to the woody part of the scions, whereas the bark of the stock should slip off readily. another good and fairly satisfactory rule is never to graft the stocks of nut trees until after the young leaves appear. in grafting young nursery trees not more than an inch in diameter, the whole tree is cut off at any distance from the ground convenient to the nurseryman. sometimes they are cut within a few inches of the ground, sometimes two or three feet. in my work, i like to keep the scions as high above the ground as i can. when the top of a stock is cut off, there is a great deal of sap pressure and the tree bleeds. it is a poor policy to attempt grafting while this is happening. rather, one should cut the tops off, then wait for several days before inserting any grafts. tools must be kept very sharp. a good grafting knife is sharpened on one side only, so that the blade is flat along the side which lies next to the cut made on the scion when it is trimmed. if unaccustomed to handling a knife, one can obtain more accurate results by using a small plane. i do this by holding the scion firmly in my right hand and pulling it toward me, against the cutting edge of the plane which is held in the left hand. illustrations show how this is done. the only disadvantage in using a plane is that one must exchange it for a knife to make the receiving cut in the stock before inserting the graft. this necessitates exposing the graft to the air for a longer time than does using a single instrument. spring budding is done during the same period as grafting. bud wood is usually much larger in diameter than scionwood, for it is easier to remove buds from big branches than from wood only one-quarter inch in diameter. when budding is to be done, take along only enough wood for half a day's work, leaving the rest safely stored. a piece of wood having a bud is prepared as shown in the illustrations "a" and "b" (next page). a t-shaped slot is made in the stock to receive the bud, a process called "shield budding." this is tied in place with either string, raffia or gummed tape, as shown in "c" and "d" (next page). the bud must be free to grow, and although it may be covered completely with wax, no part of the binding material should be close to it. since it is not necessary to cut off all the tree in budding, enough of it may remain above the bud to brace the shoot that develops. later, it may be necessary to cut back the tree to the bud so that a callus will form and cause the wound to heal properly. [illustration: drwg by wm. kuehn _shield budding._] best results are obtained when a graft union is coated with melted beeswax. another and cheaper wax may be made by combining four parts of rosin, one part of beeswax and one-sixteenth part of raw linseed oil. to this is sometimes added a little lampblack to color the mixture so that it can be seen on the graft. again, care must be taken to prevent injuring the cells with wax that is too hot. i have used many kinds of tying materials, but the one which gives me best results is gummed tape, which preparation i describe in another chapter. by wrapping it in spirals around a graft union, i have a material which holds the graft in place and at the same time excludes air. the rubber also seems to encourage the formation of that tissue which unites the stock and scion. in addition to tape, melted wax should be brushed into those crevices and cracks which always occur in making a graft. it is usually advisable, although not necessary, to shade new grafts. to do this, cover them with light-colored or white paper sacks. never use glassine alone for it causes the grafts to overheat and so destroys them. whatever tying material is used, either to fasten on these bags or to support the grafts, it should be inspected at intervals during the summer, as it may constrict the graft or stock and injure or cut off the cambium. after a scion begins to grow, it must be firmly braced against the force of the wind, for a heavy gale can rip out grafts made years before. laths make good braces for growing shoots. they may be attached to the main branch by stout waterproof twine such as binder twine, and the growing graft tied with soft muslin strips to the lath. as the graft grows more muslin strips should be used to keep the excessive growth anchored to the lath. grafts will often make three or more feet in growth in one season. it is important to remember that sprouts or buds which start from the stock must be rubbed off. if they are allowed to flourish, they may prevent the scion from growing. when working over a tree several inches in diameter, it becomes an art to keep the tree stock satisfied, yet to encourage the growth of the scions. in large trees, a few sprouts must grow to nourish the root system, but this is not necessary if the stock is one inch, or less, in diameter. chapter grafting tape versus raffia it is necessary that a person who is grafting trees and developing hybrids experiment not only with the plants he is interested in, but also with the equipment and materials he uses. for more than twelve years, i used raffia to tie the grafts i made, becoming more annoyed and irritated with its limitations each year. finally, i began trying other materials, until i found one which i think is very satisfactory. this is a rubberized grafting tape. at my nursery, we make our own tape. we buy pure rubber gum, known as lotol nc- , from the naugatuck chemical company, at a cost of $ . for five gallons, f.o.b. their factory. with this, we use unbleached muslin of an x mesh, or finer. as the muslin is usually a yard wide, we fold it and take it to a printing firm, where, for a small charge, it is cut into both one-half and three-quarter inch strips by being fed through a paper-cutting machine. we use the wider strips for heavy work on large trees which have three to five-inch stubs; the narrower strips we use in the nursery, grafting young seedlings. first, pour about a gallon of the rubber compound into a twelve or sixteen-quart pail having a smooth, rolled edge. next, separate a dozen or so of the strips of muslin. then, set out a pair of rails on which to dry the tape after it has been dipped. i make these rails by using two " x " boards about twelve feet in length, nailed together at the ends with boards two feet long. this frame, resting on carpenter's horses or benches, makes a good drying rack. holding a piece of tape by one end, submerge it in the rubber solution, forcing it down with a spatula or knife. swishing it around or moving it up and down several times helps to fill the pores with rubber. drag it from the solution by pulling it sharply over the rolled edge of the pail, using the spatula on the upper side of the strip to scrape off superfluous rubber. a little practice soon enables one to judge the amount of rubber needed on the tape. there should not be so much that it drips off. hang the tape on the rack so that the ends are attached to the rails, the tape sagging slightly in the center. space the pieces of tape so that they do not touch, for, if they do, they will be very difficult to separate later. after they have dried for twenty-four hours, wind the tape on pieces of cardboard about one foot square, being careful not to overlap the tape. the tape is now ready for field-work. i want to mention some of the advantages i have found in using this rubberized tape rather than raffia. the tape is uniform throughout and is stronger than raffia. it does not fly around and frequently get tangled as the latter does. there is no necessity for keeping it slightly damp to be usable. it may easily be torn off at any convenient length or it may be cut without injuring the edge of the grafting knife. a last advantage is that it is self-sealing since it overlaps on itself slightly when wound around a graft union. because of this, there is no necessity for painting the finished graft with melted wax as is absolutely vital when using raffia. personally, i use wax in addition to the tape for i feel that it is probably safer with that extra protection. also it gives me an opportunity to wax over the tip end of the scion when it is devoid of a terminal bud. the only disadvantage in using tape is its cost which, i must admit, is very much higher than that of raffia. but if, by using tape, twice as many grafts can be made each day, and if the resulting takes are % better, as they have been in my experience, then the cost is justified and raffia is actually the more expensive to use. chapter effects of grafting on unlike stocks it is unquestionably a great shock to a tree when % of its top is cut off. if it is healthy and vigorous, the root system will try to recover, using every means possible to do so. if a new top is grafted to it, the stock must either accept and nourish that foreign and sometimes incompatible new part, or give up its struggle for life. nature and the tree stock usually accept the challenge and the graft begins to grow. in an attempt to continue with its own identity, the stock will bring into activity adventitious buds. these are tiny microscopic buds imbedded in the bark of a tree that are not apparent to the eye but are nature's protection against destruction of the individual plant. but these must be removed by the horticulturist to insure proper nourishment of the grafts. because the root system is striving hard to live, and because it is usually the stronger, it may force the top to accept certain of its characteristics. occasionally, it may assume some qualities of the original top. such cooperation is necessary if either is to survive. first of all, the grafted scions must accept the vital quality of climatic hardiness, a powerful factor developed through ages spent in a certain climate. to hasten the acclimatization of a tender variety, i cut scionwood from such unions early in the winter, storing it until spring. when these scions are grafted on new root systems, i find that they are much more readily accepted than the first grafts were. the following season, i allow the grafts of this later union to go through their first winter of exposure. early each spring i continue to cut scions from the most recent unions and graft them to new root systems, so hastening and setting the factor of hardiness through frequent asexual propagation. because my observations of the effects of scion on root and vice versa, have not extended over a sufficient period of time, i think it is possible that the changes i have seen may be only transient. in any case, i do know that the phenomenon occurs, for i have seen many examples of it. one instance in which the stock was apparently affecting the scions, occurred in the case of several varieties of black walnuts which had been grafted on wild butternut stock over a period of sixteen years. the walnut top flourished but tended to outgrow the butternut, so that the caliber of the walnut was greater than that of the stock a few inches below the graft union. i also noticed that, although the graft began to bear about as early as black walnuts do when they are grafted on their own species, the nuts did not mature at all during the first few years of bearing. in , after a favorable season, i found mature nuts on one variety, the thomas. these nuts varied in size more than they do when grafted on black walnut. the most surprising thing about them, though, was that they did not have the characteristic black walnut flavor. when properly dried and cured, they could have passed as an entirely different nut since they tasted like neither the black walnut, the butternut nor the persian walnut. the overgrowth of the ohio black walnut, grafted on butternut, was even more apparent than that of the thomas. these nuts were, as i have said, immature the first few years they appeared and they, too, lacked the usual black walnut flavor. in their case, however, the most striking change was in the shape and structure of their shells which were elongated like butternuts, with corrugations typical of those found on butternuts and nearly as deep and sharp. (see illustration in chapter , page .) in , i made experimental graftings on native black walnut stocks of the weschcke no. butternut, a variety i found to be superior to hundreds of other native trees tested. the grafts grew luxuriantly and in , produced about two pounds of nuts. these nuts were approximately % larger than those on the parent tree. they cracked well and the kernels were similar to those from the parent tree. they definitely distinguished themselves, however, by being a free-hulling nut, which is not true of the mother tree nor of most butternuts. soon after the nuts had dropped to the ground and were still green, they were hulled and their hulls peeled off like those of the persian walnut, leaving the nuts clean and free from remnants. apparently this phenomenon was a transient one since later crops did not display this free-hulling feature. i have mentioned, elsewhere, the seedling apricot which came into bearing in st. paul, and how i obtained grafts before it died during a very cold winter. i have grafted scions of this apricot on both hybrid and wild plum stocks repeatedly and this apricot now exhibits a material gain in hardiness. it overgrows the plum stock, but this does not seem to inhibit its bearing, the fruit growing to greater size than that of the mother tree. these are some of the instances in which i have seen stock exert a definite, and, mainly a beneficial influence on its grafted top. it may easily be that these are only of a temporary nature and until i have seen them maintained for many more years, i must consider them to be transient effects. chapter distinguishing characteristics of scions loss of identification markings from my grafted trees has, on occasion, caused me much confusion. there was one time when i had from six to ten varieties of hickories and their hybrids grafted on wild bitternut hickory stocks, totally lacking in identification. although this disconcerted me considerably, i knew of nothing i could do except to wait for the grafts to bear nuts and determine the varieties from these. as i continued my experimental grafting, i made sure that the tags i used were not only indestructible, but also secured to the grafts in such a way that the action of the wind could not wear them out nor cause them to drop off. not long after this had happened, i received from dr. deming a shipment of about twenty varieties of hickory scions. while i was preparing this material for grafting, i noticed that each variety could be readily distinguished by its appearance in general and, specifically, by differences in its leaf scars. i also noticed markings on the bark, particularly the stomata, which differed with each variety. color and stripes added further differentiation. although i also found variations in the size and shape of the buds, i later discovered that these do not always remain constant within a variety, but depend somewhat on each season's growth. for instance, a second growth sometimes develops during a favorable season with a large number of lateral buds growing out of it like spines. it seemed to me that if scions could be maintained in an approximately fresh state, they would furnish a key by which any variety of graft could be determined as easily as it could by its nuts. i therefore set myself to preserve scionwood in its fresh state. first, i cut five-inch pieces of plump, healthy wood, each piece having a terminal bud. i placed these buds downward in large test tubes which i then filled with pure, strained honey. such models did very well for a time, but after about a year, the honey crystallized and of course the scions were no longer visible. i emptied the tubes and washed them, cleaned the scions in warm water, replaced them and refilled the tubes with pure glycerine. i submerged a thin, zinc tag, stencilled with the varietal name and bent to conform with the contour of the tube, inside of each one as a name plate which could not easily be lost or removed. i also labeled each cork with the name of the variety enclosed so that any one of them could be located when looking down at a nest of tubes in a vertical position. in order to display these preserved specimens at illustrated lectures, i had a rack made of redwood, of a size to hold twenty tubes. the tubes could easily be taken from the rack for closer observation by members of an audience. i find this to be an interesting adjunct to various nut culture exhibits i make in trying to promote nut culture education. since i was able to identify my unlabeled, hickory grafts by means of this catalogue of submerged scions, i consider it of great practical worth. at the present time, i have about hickory specimens, a good catalogue, although not a complete one. i see no reason why the same thing could not be done with black walnut or any other kind of nut scions. chapter hybridizing working with nature to develop new varieties of trees is fascinating although it requires infinite patience and study combined with skill and concentration. a person without experience may taste of this pleasure, however, by trying his hand at cross-pollination, and there is no end to the number of hybrids possible. in attempting to make crosses, one must necessarily understand the botanical relationship between the trees to be crossed. trees of the same species cross readily in almost all cases; trees of the same genus are not as easily crossed; trees belonging only to the same family are usually difficult to cross. it is generally assumed that trees not in the same family are impossible to hybridize. the plum serves as a practical example of this. the american wild plum crosses readily with almost any other plum and particularly well with the japanese plum. these crosses have resulted in such phenomenal fruit as the underwood plum, a cross made between species. if a cross were made between a chestnut and a walnut, it would be between members of different families. i recommend to anyone who is attempting to cross-pollinate for the first time, that he limit his work to crosses made within species. his chances of success will be greater and such success added to the experience he is acquiring, will give him the background needed for more difficult hybridizing. crosses made between filberts and hazels usually produce great changes in the resulting fruit. j. f. jones won considerable horticultural fame from crosses he made between the wild american hazel known as the rush hazel, and such varieties of the european filbert as the italian red and daviana. hazel and filbert cross readily and the resulting seedlings will usually bear after only three or four years. for both these reasons, they are good material for a beginner to work with. if the wild hazel is to be used as the female, or mother, of the cross, it is necessary to pick off all the male blossoms, or staminate blooms. this should be done long before they begin to expand. the pistillate, or female blossoms, should be enclosed in bags, about six of the three-pound, common kraft bags should be enough. these are slipped over those branches which bear female blossoms and are tied around a heavy packing of absorbent cotton, which has been wound around the branch at approximately the place where the opening of the bag will be. in fastening the mouth of the bag around the cotton, i find that no. copper wire, wrapped several times around and the ends twisted together, is more satisfactory than string. this makes a pollen-tight house for the pistillate blossoms but not one so air-tight as to cause any damage to either the plant or blossoms. in order to have pollen available at the proper time, it is necessary to cut a few filbert branches which bear staminate blooms and store them in a dark, cold place to prevent the pollen from ripening too soon. i recommend keeping such branches in dampened sphagnum moss until it is time for the pollen to ripen, or if a cold cellar is available, burying the cut ends of large branches carrying male catkins one foot deep in clean, moist sand. when the pollen is wanted, the branches should be placed in a container of water and set near a window where sunlight will reach them. usually, after one day of exposure to bright sunlight, the staminate blooms will expand and begin to shed their pollen. the pollen may easily be collected by allowing an extended catkin to droop inside a vial or test tube and then, as the catkin rests against its inner wall, tapping the outside of the tube sharply with a pencil to jar the pollen grains loose. a separate test tube must be used for each variety of pollen to be experimented with. by following this procedure for several days with all the staminate blooms that have been gathered, the experimenter should have enough pollen for work on a small scale. the test tubes containing this pollen should never be stoppered with corks, but with plugs of absorbent cotton, which will allow the passage of air. pollen may be stored in this manner for several days, possibly as long as two weeks, if it is kept dry. by a close observation of the blooming period of the wild hazels, one is able to determine the best time for placing the filbert pollen on the pistillate blossoms. no attempt should be made to do so until the male catkins of the wild hazel species are so entirely exhausted that no amount of shaking will release any grains of pollen. when this condition exists, it is time to move the stored filbert branches to strong sunlight. a quiet day should be chosen to pollinize the hazels for two reasons. if there is a wind, it will blow away the pollen and so make the work more difficult. a wind will also increase the danger of the hazels being fertilized by native hazel pollen which may still be circulating in the air and which the flowers may prefer to filbert pollen. when good conditions are present, then, the hybridizer proceeds to his work. a brush with which to transfer pollen from the vial to the pistillate blossoms is made by wrapping a little absorbent cotton around the end of a match. the paper bag is removed from around a group of hazel blossoms, a small amount of pollen is dabbed on each blossom and the bag is immediately replaced, to remain on for two more weeks. when the bags are finally taken off, the branches should be marked to indicate that the nuts will be hybrids. before receiving pollen, each pistillate blossom has, emerging from its bud tip, a few delicate red or pink spikes which are sticky enough to make pollen adhere to them. within a few days after receiving pollen, these spikes may dry up and turn black, a fair indication that the pollen has been effective. if the pollen does not take hold, the spikes of the staminate blooms are sure to continue pink for a long time. i have seen them in the middle of the summer, still blooming and waiting for pollen which would let them continue on their cycle. this ability of hazel flowers to remain receptive for a long period allows the nut-culturist ample time to accomplish his work. it is not so true with all members of the nut tree group, some, such as the english walnuts, being receptive for such a short period that only by very frequent examination and many applications of pollen can one be sure of making a cross. early in the fall, the hybrid nuts should be enclosed in a wire screen to prevent mice and squirrels from taking them before they are ripe. such wire screens may be used in the form of a bag and fastened around each branch. when the husks turn brown and dry, the nuts are ripe, and ready to be gathered and planted. careful handling of the nuts is advisable to preserve their viability. they should be planted in an outdoor bed which has been fully protected against the invasion of rodents. a screen such as i described for other nut seed is satisfactory for these hybrid nuts but it need not be as large as that. after the nuts have sprouted and the plants have grown for one season, they may be transplanted into a permanent location where they should again be well protected against mice by a trunk screen, and against rabbits by driving a stout stake deep into the ground on the south side of the tree and tying it to the tree. this use of a stake discourages rabbits from cutting off the tree. there are innumerable other crosses that can be made as well as those between hazels and filberts. it is possible, for example, to cross the english walnut with the black walnut. many such crosses have been made although none of them is known to have produced superior nuts. thousands of crosses exist between butternuts and japanese heartnuts. many of these are of some worth and are being propagated. crosses between heartnut and butternut are easily made, following the same procedure used in crossing hazels and filberts, except that larger bags are necessary for covering the female blossoms. also, these bags should have a small, celluloid window glued into a convenient place, so that the progress of the female blossoms toward maturity can be observed. when hybridizing walnuts, it is necessary to use a pollen gun instead of removing the bag from around the female blossoms and applying the pollen with a cotton-covered applicator. such a pollen gun can be made by using a glass vial which does not hold more than an ounce of liquid. an atomizer bulb, attached to a short copper or brass tube soldered into a metal screw-cap, is fitted to the vial. another small copper or brass tube should also be inserted in the screw-cap close to the first one. the second tube should be bent to a right angle above the stopper and its projecting end filed to a sharp point. without removing the bag from around the pistillate blossoms, the hybridizer forces the point of the atomizer through the cotton wadding between bag and branch. the pollen in the vial is blown through the tube into the bag in a cloud, covering all the enclosed blossoms. it is advisable to repeat this on several successive days to make certain of reaching the female blossoms during their most receptive period. [illustration: _ x x foot tightly woven sheet of unbleached muslin stretched over mother hazel plant during pollination period in the process of making controlled crosses between it and filbert parents. photo by c. weschcke._] [illustration: the weschcke pollen gun taper end of copper tube ... not absolutely necessary, but it saves pollen. long fibre cotton wad wired to intake side of bulb to strain out foreign pollens that may be in atmosphere. de vilbiss atomizer bulb. pollen grains any small glass bottle with a wide mouth and screw cap. tubes a and b-- / " outside diameter copper tubing can be purchased at any garage. solder both tubes to screw cover c. drwg by wm. kuehn _how to make pollen gun._] chapter toxicity among trees and plants although quack grass will grow luxuriantly up to the trunks of both black walnut and butternut trees, i know, from things i have seen myself, that the roots of the latter and probably of the former have a deadly effect on members of the evergreen family. i have seen northern white pine and other pines, too, suddenly lose their needles and die when, as large trees, they have been transplanted to the vicinity of butternut trees. to save as many of these transplanted trees as possible, it was necessary for me to sacrifice almost one hundred fine butternut trees by cutting them off close to the ground and pruning all the sprouts that started. other instances have also demonstrated to me this deleterious power of butternut trees over evergreens. for years, i watched a struggle between a small butternut tree and a large mugho pine. gradually the mugho pine was succumbing. at last, when the pine had lost over half its branches on the side near the butternut, i decided to take an active part in the fight. i cut off the trunk of the butternut and pruned off all of its sprouts. the butternut surrendered and died. the mugho pine took new heart, lived and again flourished. at another time, i transplanted several thousand montana pines, about thirty or forty of which came within the branch limits of a medium size butternut tree. within a year, these thirty or more trees had turned brown and were completely dead, while those immediately outside the branch area were dwarfed and not at all thrifty. the trees farther from the butternut were unaffected and grew consistently well. a similar condition, although not to the same degree, developed under a white oak where more mugho pines were growing. another instance occurred when a planting of several thousand colorado blue spruce were lined out and fell within the area affected by two butternut trees. the spruce were all dead within a few months. many people have observed the detrimental effect of trees of the walnut family on alfalfa, tomatoes and potatoes, resulting in wilting and dying. it is the root systems of the walnut which are responsible for this damage. apparently, there is some chemical elaborated near the surface of the roots, and sensitive plants, whose roots come in contact with either roots or ground containing this factor, are injured and sometimes killed by it. one must therefore be very cautious about trusting these trees as protectors of many of the ornamental and garden plants. i am certain, from my own observations, that their influence on evergreens is strongly antagonistic. on another basis is the association between catalpas and chestnut trees growing adjacent to one another. constructive symbiosis apparently develops when a young chestnut tree is planted within the radius of the root system of a catalpa. the latter very definitely influences the chestnut tree to grow more vigorously than it otherwise would. i have recorded my observations of these antagonisms and friendships between trees and plants to show that they are a reality which should be taken into consideration in grouping and transplanting. such warnings are infrequent because some people may mistake them as condemnations of certain favorite trees. i do not intend them as such, for these plants are often valuable and worthwhile. this ability which they have developed through the many years of their existence is a guarantee of the sturdiness and strength of their family and species, not at all a quality to be condemned. conclusion if i had written this book twenty years ago, i would have prophesied a future for nut culture in the north, full of wonder, hope and profit. if i had written it ten years ago, i should have filled it with discouragement and disillusion. now, after growing such trees for more than years, i realize that the truth lies somewhere between these extremes, but nearer the first. it is seldom practical to move native trees very far from their natural range, nor is it necessary to do so in this part of the north: we have four fine, native nut trees: the hazel, the butternut, the black walnut and the hickory. in my experience, these four have completely demonstrated their practical worth. if commercialization is the primary hope of the nut tree planter, he should first consider the large, hardy hybrids, known as hazilberts, which i have produced between a large wisconsin wild hazel and european filberts. hazilberts equal the best european filberts in every way, without the latter's disadvantage of susceptibility to hazel blight and its lack of hardiness. they are as hardy as the common wild hazel and are more adaptable to environment and soil conditions than any other native nut tree. they may be trained into trees or allowed to grow as large bushes. like all other filberts and hazels, they, too, need companion plants for cross pollinization to obtain full crops of nuts. the butternut is also a very adaptable tree. no one who is acquainted with it, questions the quality of the butternut kernel. in a good variety, the nuts should crack out in halves and the kernels drop out readily. so many good varieties of black walnuts are being propagated, i need not say much about them, except that many of the best ones are not practical for this climate. nurserymen who grow them can give the best advice about varieties to anyone selecting black walnuts for orchard planting. hickories are the last of these native trees to be recommended from a commercial standpoint, as they are the most particular about soil and climate. however, with improved propagation methods and planting technique they should become some day as valuable as pecan plantations have become valuable to the south. considering the nut tree as a dooryard tree, an ornament rather than a business, makes it possible to include many more species as suitable for growing in the north. for this purpose, i suggest heartnuts, chestnuts, pecans and hiccans. the heartnut tree is always one to draw attention and interest, picturesque in its leaves, blossoms and clusters of nuts. last, but certainly not least in it potentialities, is the english walnut. i am certain that we shall have some varieties of these which will be hardy enough to plant in the north. when these have been completely proven, they will be a delightful addition to the number of trees flourishing here. what family would not receive enjoyment and satisfaction from having, in its dooryard, a gracious english walnut tree, its spreading branches laden with nuts? although the commercial aspect of producing hazilberts is engrossing me at the present time, my greatest pleasure in nut culture still comes, as it always shall come, from actual work with these trees. it is both a physical and mental tonic. i recommend nut tree culture to everyone who enjoys spending his time out-of-doors, who is inspired by work of a creative nature, and who appreciates having trees, or even one tree, of his own. suggested reading on nut tree culture: nut growing by morris nut growers' handbook by bush tree crops by j. russell smith the nut culturist by fuller improved nut tree of north america by clarence reed annual reports of n.n.g.a. team. thirty years in the itinerancy, by rev. w.g. miller, d.d. dedication. * * * * * to the ministers and laymen of the wisconsin conference, with whom the author has been associated in christian labor during the past thirty years are these pages respectfully dedicated. preface. * * * * * the following pages were prepared in the midst of the taxing labors of the ministerial calling. the materials have been drawn from a multitude of sources, and, though the recollections of individuals have not been entirely harmonious in all cases, the facts and dates are believed to be mainly reliable. the general plan, it will be observed, contemplates a brief record of the charges and ministers of the wisconsin conference, rather than furnish a sketch of my own services. to place the data, however, in suitable relations, and render it acceptable to the general reader, it has been deemed advisable to let the record follow the line of my labors during the thirty years of my itinerant life. the publication of the book at the present time, is the result of my severe illness during the past year, and the generous, appreciative action taken by the district conferences. a record of many other charges and ministers had been prepared, but, to my regret, the limits of the volume would not permit its insertion. hoping that these pages may revive many pleasant recollections, furnish interesting and profitable reading for the fireside, and preserve material for the future historian, they are committed to the generous consideration of the public. the author. contents. chapter i. providential intervention.--nature and providence alike mysterious.--an unseen hand shaping human events.--the author urged to enter the ministry.--shrinks from the responsibility.--flies to modern tarshish.--heads for iowa.--gets stuck in the mud.--smitten by a northern gale.--turns aside to see the eldorado.--finds himself face to face with the itinerancy. chapter ii. the young itinerant.--in a lumber mill at waupun.--the surprise.--an interval of reflection.--a graceful surrender.--the outfit minus the horse and saddlebags.--.receives instruction.--the final struggle.--arrives at brothertown.--reminiscences of the red man.--the searching scrutiny.--the brothertown people.--the mission.--rev. jesse halstead--rev. h.w. frink. chapter iii. exhorter in charge.--the first sabbath.--the superb singing.--class and prayer meetings.--a revival.--stockbridge counted in.--a remonstrance.--another exhorter found.--decide to hold a great meeting.--the loaves and fishes in the lad's basket too few.--chief chicks.--conversion of a noted character.--quarterly meeting at fond du lac.--licensed to preach.--camp meeting at clason's prairie.--camp meeting at brothertown.--church enterprise.--missionary merchant.--logging bee.--successive labors. chapter iv. fond du lac.--first sermon.--early presiding elders.--rev. h.w. reed.--rev. james r. goodrich.--rev. jesse halstead the first pastor.--rev. harvey s. bronson.--first class.--quarterly meeting.--delegation from waupun.--rev. wm. h. sampson.--extended district.--a disastrous fire.--outside appointments.--stowe's chapel.--preacher's home.--ethiel humiston.--byron.--rev. joseph t. lewis.--rev. m.l. noble--rev. h. b. colman. chapter v. green lake mission.--waupun.--first class.--meetings held at dr. bowman's.--revival.--two local preachers.--short cut to ceresco.--boxing the compass.--wisconsin phalanx.--first society.--dining hall chapel.--discussions.--antiquated views.--green lake.--shadrach burdick.--visit to dartford.--little green lake.--the new chorister.--markesan.--lake maria.--revival. chapter vi. green lake mission continued.--quarterly meeting at oshkosh.--rev. g.n. hanson.--lake apuckaway.--lost and found.--salt and potatoes.--mill creek.--rock river.--rev. j.m.s. maxson.--oakfield.--cold bath.--fox lake.--gospel vs. whiskey.--on time.--badger hill.--s.a.l. davis.--miller's mill.--g.w. sexmith.--burnett.--william willard.--grand river.--david wood. chapter vii. green lake mission continued.--an assistant employed.--quarterly meeting at waupun.--love feast.--forty miles ride, and four sermons.--a sermon and its fruit.--portage prairie.--randolph.--randolph centre.--rolling prairie,--cheney's class.--brandon.--rosendale.--reed's corners.--strong's landing,--a night in the openings.--rev. uriel farmin.--going to conference.--madison.--visit at platteville.--bishop hamline.--humorous to grave.--galena conference. chapter viii. appointed to watertown.--aztalan the mother of circuits.--divisions and subdivisions.--rev. s.h. stocking.--watertown.--church enterprise.--sickly season.--quarterly meeting at burnett.--rev. a.p. allen.--elder sampson ties a knot.--conference of .--returned to watertown.--financial pressure.--opens a school.--the coat sermon. chapter ix. waukesha--old prairieville circuit--changes--rev. l.f. moultrie--rev. hooper crews--rev. j.m. walker--rev. washington wilcox--upper and nether millstones--our new field--revival--four sermons--platform missionary meetings--the orator--donning the eldership--the collection. chapter x. milwaukee--early history--first sermon--rev. mark robinson--first class--rev. john clark--trustees--rev. james ash--rev. david worthington--rev. julius field--rev. john crummer--first church--rev. john t. mitchell--rev. sias bolles--lantern convert--second church--rev. a. hanson--rev. dr. ryan--john h. van dyke--rev. f.m. mills--rev. james e. wilson--walker's point--first class--rev. wm. willard. chapter xi. spring street, milwaukee--first sabbath--promising outlook--the deep shadow--rev. elihu springer--rev. i.m. leihy--revival--missionary meetings--dedication at sheboygan--ravages of the cholera--death-bed scenes--the riot--bishop waugh--camp meeting--scandinavian work--rev. c. willerup. chapter xii. conference of .--presiding elder.--presentation.--give and take.--fond du lac district--quarterly meeting--rev. j.s. prescott.--footman vs. buggies--fond du lac.--two churches.--greenbush quarterly meeting.--rev. david lewis--pioneer self-sacrifice.--finds a help-meet.--sheboygan falls.--rev. matthias himebaugh.--oshkosh--first class.--church enterprises. chapter xiii. fond du lac district continued.--green bay.--first settlement.--rev. john clark.--first sermon.--first class.--col. ryan.--first methodist.--first church enterprise.--good society.--heretical bonnet.--various changes.--rev. r.p. lawton--church disaster--purifying the temple--rev. s. w. ford.--oneida indian mission.--oneidas.--missionaries.--quarterly meeting.--council.--"chief jake."--interpreter.--rev. henry requa.--his dying message. chapter xiv. fond du lac district continued.--appleton.--early history.--rev. c.g. lathrop--lawrence university.--incipient stages.--charter.--trustees. agent.--first board of instruction.--buildings.--faculty.--rev. dr. cooke.--rev. dr. cobleigh.--rev. dr. mason.--rev. dr. knox.--rev. dr. steele. chapter xv. fond du lac district continued.--baraboo conference.--lodi camp meeting.--fall river.--revival at appleton.--rev. elmore yocum.--revival at sheboygan falls.--revival at fond du lac.--rev. e.s. grumley.--revival at sheboygan.--rev. n.j. aplin.--camp-meeting at greenbush.--rev. a.m. hulce.--results of the year.--janesville conference.--omro. rev. dr. golden.--the cowhams.--quarterly meeting.--my father's death.--close of the term. chapter xvi. conference of .--the new departure.--mission committee.--the slavery controversy.--triumph of freedom.--wisconsin conference rule. conference report.--election of delegates.--appointed to racine.--detention.--the removal to the new charge.--stage, dray, and steamboat.--new bus line. chapter xvii. racine.--its early history.--subsequent growth.--racine district.--rev. dr. hobart.--kenosha.--rev. salmon stebbins.--sylvania.--the kelloggs.--walworth circuit--burlington and rochester.--lyons. troy circuit.--first class at troy.--eagle.--round prairie.--hart prairie.--delavan.--elkhorn.--pastorate at racine.--revival.--church enlargement.--second year.--precious memories. chapter xviii. conference of .--janesville.--early history.--first sermon.--the collection.--first class.--first church.--first donation.--rev. c.c. mason.--missionary anniversary.--rev. a. hamilton.--rev. d. o. jones. the writer's pastorate.--the great revival.--the recipe.--old union circuit.--first class.--evansville.--rev. henry summers.--new church. conference of .--beloit.--early pastorates.--church enterprise.--second year at janesville. chapter xix. conference of .--presiding elder.--milwaukee district.--residence.--district parsonage.--visits to charges.--spring street.--asbury.--rev. a.c. manwell.--brookfield.--west granville.--wauwatosa.--rev. j.p. roe.--waukesha.--rev. wesley lattin.--oconomowoc.--rev. a.c. pennock.--rev. job b. mills.--hart prairie.--rev. delos hale.--watertown. rev. david brooks.--rev. a.c. huntley.--brookfield camp-meeting. chapter xx. whitewater conference.--report on slavery.--election of delegates.-- whitewater.--early history.--rev. dr. bannister.--general conference.--member of mission committee.--conference .--rev. i.l. hauser.--mrs. i.l. hauser.--rev. j.c. robbins.--the rebellion.--its causes.--fall of sumter.--extract of sermon.--conference .--rev. j.h. jenne.--rev. s.c. thomas.--rev. g.c. haddock.--colonelcy.--close of term. chapter xxi. conference of .--the war.--position of the conference.--rev. j.m. snow.--appointed again to spring street.--dr. bowman.--changes.--rev. p.s. bennett.--rev. c.s. macreading.--official board.-the new church enterprise.--juvenile missionary society.--conference of .--rev. p.b. pease.--rev. george fellows.--rev. samuel fallows.--rev. r.b. curtis.--rev. d.h. muller.--third year.--pastoral work.--revival. visit to the army.--illness.--close of term. chapter xxii. conference of .--the war closed.--lay delegation the next question. rev. george chester.--rev. romulus o. kellogg.--missionary to china.--rev. l.n. wheeler.--appointed to fond du lac district.--marriage of our eldest daughter.--removal to fond du lac.--rev. t.o. hollister.--state of the district.--rev. j.t. woodhead.--waupun.--rev. d.w. couch.--lamartine.--rev. i.s. eldridge.--horicon.--rev. walter mcfarlane. chapter xxiii. conference of .--centenary year.--lay delegation.--reconstruction.--returned to fond du lac district.--seven sermons a week--rev. o.j. cowles.--beaver dam.--a good record.--fall river.--early history.--columbus.--rev. henry sewell.--conference of .--election of delegates.--cotton street.--rev. r.s. hayward.--rev. a.a. reed.--general conference.--conference of .--rev. t.c. wilson.--rev. h.c. tilton. rev. john hill.--rev. isaac searles--rev. j.b. cooper.--an incident--close of the term.--progress made. chapter xxiv. conference of .--stationed at ripon.--first visit--rev. e.j. smith.--rev. byron kingsbury.--sabbath school.--early record of the station.--church enterprises.--rev. william morse.--rev. joseph anderson.--revival.--church enlargement.--berlin.--early history.--rev. isaac wiltse.--conference of .--returned to ripon.--marriage of our second daughter.--a happy year.--close of our labors. chapter xxv. conference of .--election of delegates.--laymen's electoral convention.--temperance.--the sabbath.--rev. thomas hughes.--appointed to spring street.--third term.--wide field.--rev. c.d. pillsbury.--rev. w.w. case.--the norwegian work.--rev. a. haagenson.--the silver wedding.--results of the year. chapter xxvi. conference of .--rev. a.j. mead.--rev. a. callender.--rev. wm. p. stowe.--rev. o.b. thayer.--rev. s. reynolds.--revival under mrs. van cott--conference of .--rev. henry colman.--rev. a.a. hoskin.--rev. stephen smith.--illness.--conference of .--rev. dr. carhart.--rev. geo. a. smith.--rev. c.n. stowers.--in the shade. thirty years in the itinerancy. * * * * * chapter i. providential intervention.--nature and providence alike mysterious.--an unseen hand shaping human events.--the author urged to enter the ministry.--shrinks from the responsibility.--flies to modern tarshish.--heads for iowa.--gets stuck in the mud.--smitten by a northern gale.--turns aside to see the eldorado.--finds himself face to face with the itinerancy. the ways of providence are mysterious. and how, to men, could they be otherwise? with their limited faculties it could not be expected that they would be able to obtain more than partial glimpses of the "goings forth of the almighty." the astronomer can determine the orbit of the planets that belong to our system, since they lie within the range of his vision; but not so the comets. these strange visitors locate their habitations mainly in regions so remote from the plane of human existence that his eye cannot reach them. and when they do condescend to pay us a visit, they traverse so wide a circuit that the curve they describe is too slight to furnish a basis for reliable mathematical calculations. hence the orbit of a comet is a mystery, and the return not unfrequently a surprise. if this be true of what seem to be the unfinished or exploded worlds, that swing like airy nothings in the heavens and fringe the imperial realm of physical being, then what may not be predicated of the profounder mysteries that lie bosomed in those unexplored depths of the universe, where the fixed stars hold high court? when our feet trip at every step of our advance to know the mysteries of nature, why need we affect surprise when the profounder domain of providence refuses to yield up its secrets? that the ways of god are mysterious is a logical necessity. the infinite disparity between the human and the divine intelligence involves it. insignificant as a lady's finger ring may seem when compared to one of the mighty rings of saturn, the human mind, in the presence of the divine, is infinitely more so. well hath the scriptures said, "far as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." the mysterious ways of providence are, however, not unfrequently so interwoven with human events as that average intelligence may be able to understand portions of them, though much of mystery must always remain. and in no one particular do these understandable portions find a clearer illustration than in those interventions which assign individual men to given pursuits and responsibilities in life. truly, "there is a providence that shapes our ends, rough hew them as we will." nor may these special interventions be wholly appropriated by the great men of the world. on the contrary, they not unfrequently condescend to bless the very humblest. the same great thought, the same skilled hand and the same infinite power that were necessary to pile up the grandest mountain ranges and hollow the ocean's bed, were also required to create a single grain of sand and assign it its place as a part of the grand whole. so, while great and honorable men pass into the world's history as the proteges of a special providence, let it also be remembered that the humbler ones, though their names may never be chronicled, are not forgotten by the all father. if willing to be led, they shall not want a kind hand to lead them. and even though rebellious at times, and at others shrinking from the proffered responsibilities, yet a loving father cares for the trembling and feeble ones, as well as the brave and the strong, and kindly leads them into the paths of peace. i have not written thus, good reader, in these opening pages, to find a starting place for the record that is to follow. on the contrary, these utterances hold a special relation to the writer and the labors of the last thirty years. soon after my conversion, and before i was eighteen years of age, i received an exhorter's license. i was then engaged in teaching and found my time largely occupied by my profession. yet, i occasionally held services on the sabbath. during the ensuing four years i retained the same relation. i was often urged to accept a local preacher's license, but declined, thinking i was too much occupied in the other field to make the necessary preparation for this. and, besides, i had now reached a point of great perplexity and trial with reference to the ministerial calling as a profession. not that i entertained a serious thought of accepting it, but, on the contrary, was wholly averse to it. but, strangely enough, while i was thus, both in feeling and convictions, opposed to the measure, every one else seemed to accept it as a matter already settled that i would enter the itinerant field. from the good rev. john b. stratton, the presiding elder of the prattsville district, new york conference, within the bounds of which i then resided, and his immediate successor, rev. samuel d. ferguson, down through all the ministry and laiety of my acquaintance, i was made the special subject of attack. but from what all others thought to be my duty, i shrank with a persistence that admitted of no compromise. the plan i had marked out for myself contemplated, ultimately, the position of a local preacher, and a life devoted largely to literature and business. on this plan i fully relied, and thought myself settled in my convictions and fixed in my purpose. yet i am not able to say, that at times it did not require some effort of the will to keep my conscience quiet and my thought steady. a young man, from eighteen to twenty-two years of age, who was subject to so many attacks, especially in high places, and who constantly felt himself preached to and prayed at in almost every religious assembly, must be more than human, not to say less than a christian, to bear up under such a pressure. i clearly saw that one of two things must be done, and that speedily. either i must yield to the manifest demand of the church or "go west." i chose the latter. nor was this decision mere obstinacy. there were several things to be considered and carefully weighed and determined before entering upon a work of such grave responsibilities as the itinerant ministry. first of all, the question must be settled in a man's conviction of duty; then the question of one's fitness for the work; and, finally, the financial question could not be ignored. to enter the itinerancy involved responsibilities that could only be sustained under the deepest convictions that can possibly penetrate a human soul. the minister is god's ambassador to lost men. he can only enter upon this work under the sanction of divine authority. having entered he is charged with the care of souls, and if these shall suffer harm, through his inefficiency or want of fidelity, he must answer in the divine assizes for the breach of trust. well may the best of men say, "who is sufficient for these things?" then add to this grave responsibility, the certain and manifold trials which must come to every man who enters the itinerancy. his very calling makes him a spectacle to men, and necessarily the subject of adverse criticism. he is the messenger of god and yet the servant of man. on the one hand, clothed with the authority of heaven, and on the other reduced to the condition of a servant. expected to deliver the high message of the king of kings, and yet receives his pulpit under the suffrages of man. before he receives his appointment, he is not unfrequently the subject of a sharp canvass from one end of the conference to the other, and after he receives it he is liable to find himself among a people, who had rejected him in the canvass, and now only acquiesce in the decision from sheer necessity. but if he escape scylla in this particular, he is certain to drive upon charybdis in another. granting that his relations and labors may be acceptable, he falls upon the inevitable necessity of devoting his time and labor, during the vigor and strength of his days, for a meager compensation, and then pass into old age, and its attendant infirmities, as a dependancy, if not a pauper. and now let me submit; with such a picture hung upon the canopy of the future, and who shall say it is overdrawn? is it a matter of surprise that a young man should hesitate before accepting the position of an itinerant? but it will be said: "there is another side to the picture." true, and thanks to the great head of the church that there is. but the other side can only be seen when the beholder occupies the proper stand-point, and this position i certainly had not attained at the time of which i write. in this matter, as in most others, our mistakes arise from partial views and limited observation. a few years since i visited niagara falls. before leaving buffalo a friend admonished me to avoid looking upon the descending floods until i should reach table rock, as this precaution would give me a more satisfactory impression. these instructions were more easily given than observed. i found it required no small share of nerve to pass down the near bank of the river with the eternal roar of its waters pouring into my ears, cross over suspension bridge, spanning the rushing tides below still tossing and foaming as though an ocean had broken from its prison, and then pass up the other bank, in full view of the cataract, and not look upon it until my feet were planted on table rock. but from that hour to the present, i have never regretted the effort, for therein i learned the importance of position, when face to face with any great question. the position gained, i raised my eyes upon niagara falls. i need not say my whole being was thrilled. there lay the great "horse shoe" full before me, and i seemed to stand upon its outer crest and look down into its deep chasm, where the angry waters wrestled with each other in their wildest frenzy. then the floods from either side, that had seemed to sweep around the chasm and hug the shore, as if in mortal terror, despairing of escape, rushed upon each other like two storm fiends. the war of waters was most terrific. the very earth shook. locked in deadly embrace, and writhing as if in direst agony, the mighty floods plunged the abyss, while far above floated the white plume of the presiding genius of old niagara. the impression upon me was overwhelming. i saw niagara falls from the right stand-point. whether i was equally fortunate in my early views of the itinerancy is a question that will find solution in the following pages. i decided, however, to go west. my father and the balance of his family had been looking enquiringly in that direction for several months, and i now agreed to accompany them. it was our purpose to make dubuque, iowa, the point of destination, as the founders of that city, who were relatives, had visited us in the east and had given us glowing accounts of the city and the adjacent portions of the state. with this purpose in view we landed at racine. the madison, a crazy old steamer that could lay on more sides during a storm than any water craft that i had ever seen, landed us on a pier in the night, and from the pier we were taken ashore in a scow. we reached racine in june, . racine at that time was a very small village, but, like all western towns, it was in the daily belief that, at some time in the near future, it would be a very large city. we spent the sabbath and enjoyed the pleasure of attending religious services in a school house. the pastor of our church at the time was rev. milton bourne, of the rock river conference. we were favorably impressed with racine, and especially with the evidences of civilization it afforded, in the fact of a school house and the establishment of religious services. at racine we engaged a man to take us, six in all, with our trunks to delavan. the roads were almost impassable. the rains had fallen so copiously that the streams overflowed their banks, the marshes were full and the prairies inundated. with a good team, however, we made an average of about fifteen miles a day. our conveyance stuck fast in the mud eighteen times between racine and delavan. sometimes we found these interesting events would occur just in the middle of a broad marsh. in such case the gentlemen would take to the water, not unfrequently up to the loins, build a chair by the crossing of hands, as they had learned to do in their school days, and give the ladies a safe passage to the prairie beyond. but woe worth the day if the wheels refused to turn, as they sometimes did, in the middle of some deep, broad mud-hole. the light prairie soil, when thoroughly saturated, is capable of very great volatility and yet of stick-to-it-iveness. while the team and wagon, buried deeply in the mud, found the soil as yielding as quicksand, the passengers, on alighting, were no more fortunate. to make the chair and wade ashore with its precious burden, at such a time, involved a very nice adjustment of balances. if the three went headlong before they reached the shore, each received a generous "coat of mail" of the most modern style. we reached delavan in due course of travel, where we remained several days. the sabbath intervened. my father preached in the morning, and i held service in the afternoon. on monday a council was held. since our feet touched the soil of wisconsin, our ears had been filled with the praises of the country, and especially the counties of dodge and fond du lac. by the time we had spent several days at delavan, and were ready to move on toward iowa, this clamor had become so decided in its tone, that, as a result of the consultation, it was decided that two or three of us should go up through dodge and fond du lac counties. not with the expectation that our destination would lie in that direction, but it was thought advisable to know what had been left behind, in case we should not be pleased with dubuque. leaving the balance of our company at delavan, we started on foot on our tour of exploration. keeping our eyes and ears open, we were ready to go in any direction in quest of the promised "eldorado." like all "land seekers" of those early times, a few things were deemed essential to make a location desirable. these were prairie, timber and water. but with us one additional requisite must not be ignored. we must also find a "water power." with all these objects in view, the line of travel became perplexing and described a good many angles, but the main direction lay through east troy, summit, watertown, oak grove and waupun. at the last named place we found a few scattered log houses, and, within a radius of five miles, perhaps a dozen families. the location was beautiful. with its prairie of from one to two miles in width, skirted on the north by groves of timber, through which ran the west branch of rock river, and fringed on the south by extended openings, it took us captive at once. passing up the stream two or three miles we found the looked for water-power, and abundance of unappropriated lands. by setting our stakes on the crown of the prairie, and making the lines pass down to the river and through the belt of timber, sufficient land of the right quality could be secured for the whole family, including, also, the desired water-power. to decide upon this spot as our future home, was the result of a brief consultation. all thought of going to iowa was now abandoned. obtaining a load of lumber, which was all that could be secured for either love or money, a shanty was immediately erected for the accommodation of the family. was it a providential intervention that assigned us our home and field of labor in this new and rapidly populating portion of wisconsin, rather than the city of dubuque? society in its formative state needs, above all other agencies, the salutary influences of religion. to provide these and give them efficiency among the people, the presence and labors of the gospel ministry, and the establishment of churches, are a necessity. to secure these at the outset requires the emigration of ministers from the older states as well as people. perhaps the motives of neither class in coming will always bear a thorough scrutiny; yet who shall say that their coming is not under the general direction of providence? nor is it improbable that the hasty steps that seem to bear the unwilling servant from the presence of the master are the very ones that most speedily bring him face to face with his duty. chapter ii. the young itinerant.--in a lumber mill at waupun.--the surprise.--an interval of reflection.--a graceful surrender.--the outfit minus the horse and saddlebags.--receives instruction.--the final struggle.--arrives at brothertown.--reminiscences of the red man.--the searching scrutiny.--the brothertown people.--the mission.--rev. jesse halstead.--rev. h.w. frink. in march, a.d. , a letter from rev. wm. h. sampson, then presiding elder of green bay district, rock river conference, found me at waupun. the intervening nine months, since our arrival in the preceding july, had been spent in making improvements upon the land i had selected, and in the erection of a lumber mill, of which i was in part proprietor. the bearer of the letter found me in the mill, engaged in rolling logs to the saw and in carrying away the lumber. i opened the letter and glanced at its contents. to my surprise and utter consternation it contained a pressing request that i would take charge of the brothertown indian mission until the next session of the conference, as the missionary, rev. h.w. frink, had been called away by family afflictions. i instinctively folded the letter and then crumpled it in the palm of my hand, inwardly saying, "hast thou found me, oh! mine enemy?" no rash answer, however, was given. this question of duty was certainly assuming grave aspects. for four years it had haunted me at every turn. and even in the wilds of wisconsin it was still my tormenter. like banquo's ghost, it would not down at my bidding. i now tried to look the question fairly in the face, and make the decision a final one, but found it exceedingly difficult to do so. to yield after so long a struggle, and especially to surrender all my fondly cherished plans for the future, appealed at first to my pride, and then to what i conceived to be my temporal interests, and the appeal for a moment seemed to gain the ascendency. but how then could i answer to god? was the startling question that burned into my soul at every turn of the argument. in the midst of my embarrassment the thought was suggested, "it is only until conference, and then you can return and resume your business." catching at this straw, thus floating to me, and half believing and half hoping that three months of my incompetency would satisfy the church and send me back to my business again, i consented to go. leaving my temporal interests in the hands of my father, i hastened to make the necessary preparations for my new responsibilities. the outfit was provokingly limited. the horse and saddlebags, the inevitable alpha, if not the omega, of an itinerant's outfit, were wanting, as such conveniences had hardly, as yet, found their way to the northern portions of the territory. but in their place were put good walking ability and a small satchel. a few pieces of linen, a few books, but no sermons, were put into the satchel, and i was immediately stepping to the measure of the itinerancy. my first point of destination was fond du lac, the residence of the presiding elder, where i must necessarily report for instructions. the walk of twenty-two miles, with no other companion than a plethoric satchel, passing from hand to hand as the weary miles, one after another, were dismissed, was not the most favorable introduction to my "new departure," but, bad as it was, i found relief in the thought that my eastern friends, who had so kindly and repeatedly proposed to give me a comfortable seat somewhere in the new york conference, were in blissful ignorance of the sorry figure i was making. whether jonah found his last conveyance more agreeable than the first, i cannot say, but certain it is, i found my first entrance upon the itinerancy a tugging business. i reached fond du lac before nightfall, and was hospitably entertained. notwithstanding the cordial reception i received, however, from both the elder and his good wife, i felt embarrassed by the searching look they occasionally gave me. whether it was occasioned by my youthful, green or delicate appearance, or my light, feminine voice, i could not divine. the conversation soon turned upon the state of affairs at brothertown, and i speedily forgot my embarrassment. in the course of the conversation i inquired whether the proceeding would not be considered irregular, to place an exhorter in charge of the mission. the elder replied, "necessity knows no law, and, besides, our quarterly meeting at this place will soon be held, when we will relieve that embarrassment." i was doubtless indebted to this law of necessity for the privilege of holding one office in the church not provided for in the discipline, and one that has seldom if ever been accorded to others. carefully instructed in the best method to manage certain difficulties pending in the mission, i took early leave for a further walk of sixteen miles. across the prairie at the head of lake winnebago, i found the walk very agreeable. passing taycheedah, i then struck out into the deep woods that skirt the eastern shore of the lake. i was now between my guide and instructor, and the difficult work committed to my charge. thought was busy. an oppressive sense of my own insufficiency for so momentous a work, came over me, as it had done before, but never in such overwhelming power. i was now face to face with the great work from which i had shrank for several years, and there was no retreat. imagination lifted the little hills of difficulty before me into mountains that seemed impassable. in the deep shade of the wood i found a moss-covered rock for a seat, and gave myself up to reflection. the troubled currents of the stream ran on this wise. to go forward in my present undertaking may involve a committal to a work that a few short months shall not terminate. in such case, there will follow a life of toil and sacrifice, on stinted allowance, beset with trials and perplexities, and clouded by cold unfeeling criticisms, censures and misjudgings, of both motive and labor, of which i can now entertain no adequate conception. but if this work be not the dictate of duty, then why this unrest of soul which has so long disturbed the even flow of my religious life, or why the uniform urgency of the authorities of the church both east and west in this direction? on the contrary, if my feet are now in the path of duty then why hesitate? a brave soul never falters in the presence of difficulty or peril, but always deals the strongest blows where the conflict rages the sharpest. the struggle was brief and the result satisfactory. kneeling by the side of the rock, prayer was offered for divine guidance and help, and there fell on the soul a baptism of serene peace and holy joy, which hallowed each remaining step of the journey. arriving at brothertown the letter of introduction from the elder was presented to a.d. dick, esq., one of the stewards. the residence of this brother was located in the central portion of the town, and gave evidence of good taste and comfort. both himself and wife were members of the church, and their house the home of itinerants. it was now nearly twelve o'clock. i was invited to the parlor where i awaited dinner. these few moments afforded an opportunity to survey my surroundings and master the situation. my early reading had introduced me to the indian, both in his native wilds and as seen on the borders of civilization, the former as the noblest specimen of the natural man on the planet, and the latter as the most degraded of mortals. but now i was in the very presence of the red man and even a guest in his dwelling. nor is it too much to say that my curiosity was not a little excited. my reception, however, had been so cordial that i soon found myself at ease in my new associations. the letter was opened and read. during its reading i noticed that the eye of mine host often wandered from the page to the newly arrived guest. by an occasional glance i tried to read the thoughts of the reader, but found that the dark face was not disposed to be communicative. this much, however, i think i read pretty clearly: "well, the elder has sent us a pretty slender specimen as a minister, but we will try him and see what he can do." the dinner was announced, conversation became lively, and before we were aware of it the distinctions of race and color had faded out of sight, and a life-long friendship was founded. it was now arranged that, during my stay on the mission, i should make my home under this hospitable roof. the brothertown people came from the state of new york, and had now been settled in their western home several years. a log chapel had been erected and school houses provided. the location along the eastern shore of lake winnebago was excellent, affording a good soil and water and timber in abundance. along the principal highways the farms had been cleared of timber and brought under a fair state of cultivation. the buildings were mainly constructed of logs, though in later years, there had been erected a goodly number of frame residences. brothertown mission first appears on the general minutes in , under the name of deansburg, as will appear hereafter. in it was called fond du lac, as that point had now been added as a regular appointment. the following year, , the charge remained the same, but the name was changed to brothertown, this name having taken the place of deansburg, in honor of the brothertown nation. but as this charge will further appear in connection with the labors of its pastors i will defer the balance of the record for the present. rev. jesse halstead entered the traveling connection in the troy conference, was ordained deacon in september, , and transferred to the illinois conference. at the session of the conference, held the same month, he was appointed second preacher to aztalan mission. here he took his first lessons in pioneer work. he traveled over a tract of country reaching from the line of the territory on the south to menomonee on the north, and from the lake shore missions on the east to madison on the west. in these extended journeys he enjoyed the privilege of preaching the first sermon and forming the first societies in many localities. in he was sent to crete mission on the kankakee, in the state of illinois. the following year, , he was sent to brothertown, as before stated, the name on the minutes being deansburg. while on this mission, he visited fond du lac, and preached the first sermon, as will appear in another chapter. he remained on this charge only three months, and was then sent by his presiding elder, rev. julius field, to supply oneida indian mission for the balance of the year, that charge having been left to be supplied. in january he was visited at oneida by the presiding elder. while here the elder fell sick, and desired brother halstead to accompany him on his round of appointments. in the line of travel they visited madison and intervening charges, and then went to racine, the home of the elder. brother halstead now started for his field at oneida. it was in the depth of winter, and the line of travel was through the dense forests along the lake shore to green bay. but, nothing daunted, our itinerant packed his books, which had been left with brother stebbins at this place on his first trip to the north, and other baggage, and started on his journey. the first day he reached milwaukee, and here he laid in provisions and other necessary outfit, such as axe, auger, &c. striking out into the forest he made twenty miles the first day, but during the afternoon found himself in a severe snow storm. the first night he stopped at a house located at the site of the present village of grafton. on rising the next morning he found the snow three feet deep. he laid over one day, and on the following morning resumed his journey. he only made nine miles, as he was compelled to beat the track in advance of his horse; and at night he found quarters at port washington. the next day he pursued his journey, but at nightfall found himself without shelter in the woods. he built a fire, cooked a piece of salt pork to eat with his bread, and made a supper. but now for the night! he emptied his jumper, and in it he made a bed, and, as nearly as possible, a coil of humanity. the next morning he found his boots frozen. but, with a generous amount of tugging, they yielded to the pressure of his feet, and he was again on his way, breaking the roads himself, thereby aiding his horse in carrying his burden. on the fifth day he found a house in the woods and remained in it for the night. the sixth day he reached sheboygan falls, and the seventh day manitowoc. the eighth day he tried to reach green bay, a distance of forty miles, but was compelled to camp out for another night, and take the ninth day to complete his journey. in , brother halstead was sent to fond du lac, his charge including, also, brothertown, of which a record will be made in a subsequent chapter. during this year he made a visit to oshkosh. he took an indian trail on the west side of lake winnebago, and after traveling twenty-five miles found himself on the bank of fox river. he found no way to cross the stream, and, it being now dark, he was compelled to spend the night without shelter. a friendly indian came along and joined him in his preparations for the night. the weather was quite cold and they were obliged to maintain a brisk fire to keep from freezing. in this duty they served by turns, but neither of them had any provisions. on the following day brother, halstead returned to fond du lac. during the year brother halstead was abundant in labor, and at brothertown there was an extensive revival, giving large accessions to the charge. the following year, he was returned to the work, but the name was changed to brothertown. this year was also fragrant with blessing, and many souls were converted. after leaving brothertown brother halstead was stationed at monroe, and next at hazel green, where he had rev. i.m. leihy as a junior preacher. his subsequent charges were prairie du chien, patch grove, mequon, oak creek, and brothertown, when he took, in , a superannuated relation. brother halstead was always at his post of duty. in some of his appointments he had long moves, hard work, and very small compensation, but he and his good wife were always equal to the situation. it has been a pleasure to the writer to make this record, as also that of other veterans of the itinerancy. but of the labors, the sacrifices and trials of such men, but little can be known here. it is a satisfaction, however, to be assured that their record is on high. it is also a pleasure to know with what views they look back upon the past. a line in hand from brother halstead only expresses the common sentiment of all. i will give it to the reader. "among the most pleasant memories of my life, i reckon the hardships endured as an itinerant minister of the gospel of christ. if i had another life to give i should not hesitate to throw myself into the work again with all the strength and purpose the master has given me." rev. hiram w. frink was sent to brothertown in , and had nearly completed his third year when called away. brother frink is also a veteran, having entered the conference in , the year of brother halstead's transfer. his first appointment was sheboygan, including the territory between milwaukee and green bay, and extending west as far as lake winnebago. its principal appointments were sheboygan, port washington, brothertown, two rivers and manitowoc. having shipped his trunk to manitowoc, his future home, brother frink left chicago on horseback, oct. th, , for his field of labor. at milwaukee, the necessary outfit was procured to penetrate the deep forests which lay beyond, including an axe, steele and punk, a tin cup, blankets and provisions. the only road was an indian trail, which pushed its devious way through the forest, around the swamps, and across bridgeless streams, without regard to the comfort of the traveler or the speed of his locomotion. as there were no houses along the line of travel, brother frink was compelled to spend the first night in the woods. fortunately, however, he found a small, tenantless cabin by the wayside, in which he was safe from the wild, noisy beasts, that prowled without. the following day he reached sheboygan. and this journey was but a sample of the travel and exposures of the year of labor, on which brother frink had entered. amid the drifting snows of winter, and the copious rains of summer, he was compelled to traverse the dreary, and almost unbroken forests of his field, and on more than one occasion he found the night around his camp-fire made hideous by the howling of wolves and the screaming of panthers. but in him the cause found a sturdy pioneer who was equal to the demands of the work. in , his appointment was elgin, ill., and, the following year, watertown, wis. in connection with the last named, we shall have occasion to refer to his labors in a subsequent chapter. at the close of his year at watertown the charge was divided, and in , he was appointed to summit, the eastern division. in , he was returned to illinois and stationed at sycamore, and the following year was brought back to wisconsin, and, as before stated, appointed to brothertown. at the conference of , he took a location on account of family afflictions, but returned again to the work as soon as relieved of his embarrassments. his subsequent appointments have been grafton, agent for tracts and sunday schools, palmyra, rock prairie, albion, dunkirk, fort atkinson, footville, burnett and markesan. in , he took a supernumerary relation, but the following year, being made effective, he was appointed to the bible agency, which position he has continued to hold up to the present writing. brother frink is still vigorous, and is doing effective service. he has kept a cheerful spirit up to the present hour, and is highly esteemed by his brethren. chapter iii. exhorter in charge.--the first sabbath.--the superb singing.--class and prayer meetings.--a revival.--stockbridge counted in.--a remonstrance.-- another exhorter found.--decide to hold a great meeting.--the loaves and fishes in the lad's basket too few.--chief chicks.--conversion of a noted character.--quarterly meeting at fond du lac.--licensed to preach.--camp meeting at clason's prairie.--camp meeting at brothertown.--church enterprise.--missionary merchant.--logging bee.--successive labors. my first sabbath, april , , as "exhorter in charge," gave me an opportunity to take the measure of my new field of labor. the chapel, as before stated, was constructed of logs. these were hewn on both sides, thus giving a smooth appearance both within and without. the logs were halved together at the ends, and filled between with small pieces of wood laid in morter, and, on the whole, the chapel made a very respectable appearance. it contained rude seats that would accommodate about one hundred and fifty persons, and furnished standing room in addition for one hundred more. on the advent of the young "elder," for it was their custom to call all ministers by that name, the chapel was packed to its utmost capacity. opening the services with great perturbation of spirit in the presence of so vast a crowd, i proceeded with difficulty until the people arose to sing. instantly i was at ease. i was not a stranger to good singing, for my surroundings had always been fortunate in this particular, but, i am free to say, that, up to that hour, my ears had never been so thrilled by christian melody. the tones were not as mellow as those of the african, but they were more deep and thrilling. inclined rather to a high key, and disposed to be sharp and piercing, yet the voices of the vast congregation swept through every note of the gamut with equal freedom. i was thoroughly entranced. and, on coming to myself, i found my perturbation had left me and my soul was on a plane with the responsibilities of the hour. at the close of the public services, a class meeting was held under the charge of father abner, the leader. this brother was a man of age and experience, well adapted to his position, and universally beloved. the meeting was conducted in the usual manner, and was an occasion of spiritual refreshing. the testimonies were direct and touchingly simple, usually accompanied with weeping, and sometimes with the shout of triumph. the singing, however, was the principal feature, both in quantity and quality, for this highly susceptible people had given this part of the services, in all their meetings, a leading place. among the most noted leading voices were those of mine host, alonzo d. dick, jeremiah johnson, orrin johnson, and thomas cummock. my labors were now fairly opened, and i soon found abundant opportunities for usefulness. the regular meetings at the chapel were supplimented by others, principally prayer meetings, in the more remote parts of the town. these meetings were held on the week-day evenings, and in a short time became occasions of great interest. i attended them usually, and found every evening thus employed when not engaged at the chapel. in these excursions through the settlement, i was almost always accompanied by one, or all of the above named brethren, to lead the singing, as i found myself, though belonging to a singing family for three generations, unable to lead in this branch of the service. and in addition to these, i was also favored with the company of a young man of great worth and precious memory. i refer to lewis fowler, an exhorter of great promise, but who soon after fell under the withering touch of consumption, and passed on to the better land. as these side meetings, as i chose to call them, were multiplied, and awakened general interest in their several localities, we found the meetings at the chapel also gained in numbers and spiritual power. soon the people began to talk of a revival, and pray for its speedy coming. nor was it long delayed. the work began at one of the side meetings, where an old backslider was led back to the cross. the next evening, in another part of the settlement, there were three seekers at the altar. the sabbath now intervened, and it was deemed advisable to open meetings in the chapel during the ensuing week. here the meetings were held nightly for four weeks. as a result, seventy-five persons professed conversion. the working force of the mission was now put into a more thorough organization. several new classes were formed and the old ones carefully organized, making six in all. a sunday school was established, bringing into its promising field the latent talent of the church. but we had hardly got our home work fully in hand, when there came an invitation from stockbridge, several miles below, to extend our labors into that settlement. there had been a congregational mission among the stockbridge nation for many years, but its condition was not very promising. the chapel was located in the central portion of the reservation, and the mission was now in charge of dr. marsh, a gentleman of education and ability. he divided his time, however, between the ministerial and medical professions, and, as a result, the spiritual interests necessarily languished. during the progress of our revival in brothertown, brother david wiggins, who had recently removed to stockbridge, had been accompanied to the meeting by several of his neighbors, and they had been converted. this fact will explain the invitation now given. we accepted, and a meeting was opened, using the residence of brother wiggins as a temporary chapel. the meetings, however, had hardly been commenced, when there came a remonstrance from dr. marsh. the remonstrance, which was expressed in very emphatic terms, assumed that i had no right to embrace any portion of the stockbridge reservation in my field of labor. but what was i to do? some of our own sheep had gone down into goshen to find pasturage, and now a few of the lambs of a strange flock had come to us seeking care and sustenance. must these be left to the bleak winds that were evidently sweeping around them, to chill their warm blood in their veins and cause them to perish in the wilderness? my answer was respectful but decided. having been placed, by what seemed to be a providential intervention, in charge of these souls, i could not withdraw my oversight. the doctor laid the matter before the presiding elder, but he refused to interfere, and thus the matter ended. in due time a class was formed, brother wiggins was appointed its leader, and several souls was brought to christ. at this place i found brother r.s. hayward. before my arrival at brothertown, this noble man of god, and his most estimable and talented wife, had purchased a farm on the stockbridge reservation. they had already erected a log house, cleared a few acres of land, and founded a home both for themselves and passing itinerants. such a surprise, and such a cordial welcome as i experienced, fall but seldom to the lot of a stranger. brother hayward was also an exhorter. two exhorters together, what a ministerial force! why, we began to feel that, by the help of the master, we could take the whole land for christ! plans were immediately formed to extend our field of operations. among these, we decided to hold a series of two days' meetings, and, that they might prove a grand success, we selected as the localities the grand centres of population. we appointed the first to be held in father chick's barn, a mile west of the mission chapel in stockbridge. the day came, and so did the two exhorters. the people from the two nations came in throngs. the barn was filled, and the groves around it, until my head grew dizzy in looking at the multitudes and thinking of what was to follow. there was a congregation that might awaken the eloquence of a bishop, and nobody to conduct the services but two young, inexperienced exhorters. the reader may well imagine that there was genuine repentance on the part of the striplings, and, may be, hastily made vows never again to challenge a multitude, but these did not solve the problem of the hour. of course, as i was "exhorter in charge," though the youngest man, i had to take the morning service. i was so thoroughly frightened that i have forgotten the text, if i took any; but this point i do remember most distinctly. it was my first thought, on seeing the crowd, that i would take for a text, "there is a lad here with five barley loaves and two small fishes, but what are they among so many?" but the more i thought of it, the more frightened i became. fortunately, i dismissed it before the hour of service arrived, for i seriously questioned whether i could furnish the people so generous a feast. how i got through the service i am unable to say, for i never dared to ask any one, and my friends, doubtless out of regard to my youth, forbore to tell me. as to the afternoon service, i need say nothing, for, though respectable, i have no doubt brother hayward has preached many better sermons since. but whatever was wanting in the public services, the social meetings of the day were a great success. here the brethren came in with their singing and earnest prayers, and the sisters with their christian testimonies, until every heart was moved. in this part of the service sister hayward led off with her accustomed ability and spirit, making a marked feature of the exercises. the part borne by father chicks, as he was called, the head chief of the stockbridge nation, also added not a little to the interest of the occasion. he had been but recently converted, and his heart was overflowing. to see such a religious demonstration on his own premises filled him with joy, and awoke within him the fiery ardor of those other days when his burning words had swayed his people to the good or evil, as the tempest bends the forest at its will. tall and erect in form, with a brow to rule an empire, he rose in the midst of the great assembly and came forward to the stand. every eye was fixed upon him. turning to the writer, that he might have assistance, if necessary, in the use of the english, by the timely suggestion of the right word, he proceeded to say: "me been a great sinner, as all my people know." for the moment he could go no farther. his noble form shook with emotion, and his manly face was flooded with tears. the whole audience wept with him, for his tears were sublimely eloquent. recovering himself, he simply added, "all me want now is to love him, christ." then turning to his people, with a face as radient as the sunlight, he began to address them in his own language. i could not understand the import of his words, but the tones of his voice to our ears were entrancingly eloquent. as he advanced in his address, his frame, now bearing the weight of four score years, grew lithe and animated. soon the whole man was in a storm of utterance. had there been no living voice, the attitudes and swayings of the body, the carriage and transitions of the head, and the faultless, yet energetic gestures of the hand, were enough to move the human soul to the depths of its being. but to these were added the human voice divine with its matchless cadences, now kindling into a storm of invective, before which the audience shrank, like shriveled leaves in autumn, then sinking to sepulchral tones that seemed to challenge a communion with the dead; now wailing an anguish of sorrow utterly insupportable, and then rising in holy exultation, as one redeemed from sin and inspired with the triumphant shout of victory. the address occupied only twenty minutes. but for effectiveness i never saw its equal. bending forms and tears, groans and shouts, strangely commingled in the scene. eternity alone can reveal the results of the day. among the converts at brothertown were several interesting cases. i will only refer to one. it is that of a very noted character, who "feared not god, nor regarded man." this man, whom i shall not name, was specially bitter against all ministers, and lost no opportunity to treat them rudely. his family had taken the precaution to notify me of his bearing, assuring me that my visits to the house would be agreeable to them, yet they might subject me to abuse on his part, if not expulsion. i at once resolved to make an effort to reach him, and in due time found an opportunity. i discovered that he kept a large number of bee hives in his yard, and i concluded that he was fond of bees. having had some experience in that line, i resolved to make my assault from that stand-point. the favorable opportunity came sooner than i expected. early one morning, as i was passing the apiary, i found him in trouble. a young colony had left the parent hive and alighted on one of the topmost branches of a tall tree, and the owner was sending curses after them in a most profane manner. approaching him with the compliments of the morning, i remarked, "these young people are starting out in life with pretty lofty notions." the reply was a volley of oaths that showed him to be no novice in profanity. to relieve his embarrassment, and tranquilize his temper, i suggested that they were not beyond reach. with a new outbreak of oaths, he replied, "the ladder that old jacob dreamed of would not be half tall enough." i told him if he would bring me a strong cord and a saw i would bring them down for him. he, half doubtingly, glanced at my slight form, then into my face, as if to assure himself of my sincerity, and hastened to bring the desired articles. i fastened one end of the cord to my arm, and the other to the saw. the ascent was then made, the saw drawn up by the cord, and the severed limb with its burden let gently down until it dropped in front of the prepared hive. by the time i reached the ground the bees had entered the hive, and the raging spirit of their owner had became tranquil. conversation now turned upon the culture of the bee and its habits, until the way opened to rise from the temporal to the spiritual. the provident wisdom of the little busy worker, in laying up the needed store for future use, was especially commended, "but more especially," it was added, "is this course the dictate of wisdom in such beings as have an eternity before them." i saw that a small act of kindness had won his ear and touched his heart. on leaving, i was cordially invited to call and see the family. the advantage thus gained was prudently improved until, in process of time, both himself and family were garnered for the master. but the time had now come to lay aside the anomalous position of "exhorter in charge," and take to myself the appellation of "preacher in charge." under the advice of the presiding elder i still retained my membership on the fond du lac circuit, of which waupun was a part. the last quarterly meeting of the year was held in fond du lac may st, , rev. wm. h. sampson presiding. the meeting was well attended. i was granted a local preacher's license and recommended to the rock river conference for admission on trial. at the close of the quarterly meeting i returned to brothertown and made up a company of the good people, to attend a camp-meeting to be held at clason's prairie. it was the pioneer camp-meeting in the region, and, though the attendance was not large, it included nearly all the population of the vicinity. there were ten tents, and as many preachers, with the presiding elder in charge. the spirit of the meeting was excellent, and a goodly number of souls were gathered for the master. the services were greatly enlivened, and clothed with additional interest by the presence of the several brethren whom i had brought from brothertown. their ready, incomparable spiritual songs, earnest prayers and touching narratives of christian experience, awakened intense feeling among all classes, and gave abundant evidence of the power of the gospel to save, even the red man, as well as his brother of lighter complexion and more favorable surroundings. another feature of the meeting fastened itself upon my memory. it was the persistence with which the good elder pressed me into service on the sabbath before the great congregation, and such a formidable array of ministers. it was indeed a great trial, but, as on other occasions where there is a "boy preacher" around, there was no escape. and besides, the effort took on the nature of a trial sermon, as it was my first effort after i had been duly licensed to preach. whether i succeeded fairly or not in the estimation of my critics, i am not able to say, for i kept my ear during the balance of the meeting turned the other way, lest i might "have my feelings hurt." returning to brothertown, i now determined to hold a camp-meeting, under "our own vine and fig tree," in july. the arrangements were accordingly made, and at the appointed time, the presiding elder and several other ministers came to our assistance. they were rev. messrs. h.r. colman, stephen jones, joseph t. lewis, g.n. hanson, s.b. whipple and my dear father. the attendance was large, the order perfect, and the results of the meeting specially satisfactory. among the converts were several persons from calumet, a small village of white people adjoining brothertown on the south. we now established an appointment in the village, formed a class and opened a sunday school. but the time had come in the history of the mission when a new and larger chapel must be erected. to further this object, several boxes of goods had been forwarded to the mission by ladies benevolent societies in the east. they were accordingly opened out in the rooms of the vacant parsonage, and, when not otherwise employed, i installed myself as a salesman of merchandise. it was not a little amusing to begin the erection of a church after this fashion, but this was not the only queer thing about the building of the brothertown church. in addition, the missionary put his own hands to the actual labor of preparing the materials. it was done in this wise. it was ascertained that a man in stockbridge, who owned a fine grove of timber, proposed to give a certain amount of it for the church, provided the church people would cut it. and it was further found that the owner of a mill in the vicinity would give the sawing. we decided at once to accept both propositions. word was passed among the people, and on a given day a score or more of men and teams, with the missionary among them, made an onslaught upon the timber. in a few days the task was accomplished, and the success of the enterprise guaranteed. the conference year, however, expired at this time, aug. th, and terminated my labors among this people. well did the apostle say, "i have laid the foundation and another buildeth thereon." nor was this experience new to the world in the time of paul. it was the work of david to prepare the materials, but it remained to solomon to build the temple. thus it is in every calling of life. but it is more manifestly so, perhaps, in the itinerancy, than in any other. chapter iv. fond du lac.--first sermon.--early presiding elders.--rev. h.w. reed.--rev. james r. goodrich.--rev. jesse halstead the first pastor.--rev. harvy s. bronson.--first class.--quarterly meeting.--delegation from waupun.--rev. wm. h. sampson.--extended district.--a disastrous fire.--outside appointments.--stowe's chapel.--preacher's home--ethiel humiston.--byron.--rev. joseph t. lewis.--rev. m.l. noble.--rev. h.r. colman. the first sermon preached in fond du lac was delivered at the residence of hon. mason c. darling, by rev. jesse halstead, missionary to the brothertown people, on the th day of november, a.d. . the meeting, the first of a religious character, was convened at the request of a few families residing in fond du lac and its neighborhood, only seven in number, they having learned that the ubiquitious itinerant had struck their trail, and was making a visit to their settlement. having been accustomed to religious services in their eastern homes, these few scattered families had felt deeply their privations in these western wilds. the advent of a minister, therefore, opened an era of no common importance. few and scattered as were the families, some of them living several miles away, the small log house was filled. from this lowly, rude dwelling the songs of zion ascended in grateful praise, floating out over the prairie and lingering in the branches of the old forest trees along the river until they fell upon the ear of the roaming savage, and arrested his careless footsteps. the voice of prayer was heard, breathing to heaven in fervid accents a recognition of the divine goodness, and an humble consecration of devout worshippers, and the fair land they had adopted as their home, to god. the gospel message heralded the dispensation of grace, mercy and peace alike to all, bearing in its wings the gift of healing, and a glorious prophecy of the coming reign of the messiah over "the wilderness and solitary place." under the word, the pentacostal blessing came down on the people and filled the humble sanctuary. to many, the memories of other days, and their dear old homes in the east, were overpowering. the fountains of feeling were opened and tears came welling up from their depths, until they brimmed the eyelids of all, and fell in showers, as when the cloud angel shakes his wings. those only who have mingled in the first religious meetings of the new settlement, can rightly appreciate the intense interest or gauge the overwhelming emotions of such an occasion. fond du lac appears on the general minutes at the session of the rock river conference, held aug. th, . at that time the entire territory was included in two districts. the first swept across from the southwest to the northeast, making platteville and green bay its extreme points. and the other embraced the southeastern portion, and extended as far west and north as watertown and summit. the presiding elder on the latter, the milwaukee, was rev. julius field, and on the former, the platteville, rev. h.w. reed. the year following the northeastern portion was erected into a separate district, called green bay, and rev. james r. goodrich was made the presiding elder. brother reed remained another year on the platteville district, but during that year it retained only two charges that are at the present writing included within the bounds of the wisconsin conference. after this date, the labors of brother reed fell within other conferences, where doubtless a record will be made of them. his visits, however, have not been forgotten. he was a man of kindly spirit and great practical wisdom. wherever he laid the foundations, they showed the labors of a skillful hand. he still remains in the itinerancy, and is the patriarch of iowa methodism. brother goodrich, who succeeded him on the green bay portion of the district, is also remembered with great pleasure by the people. he remained three years on the district, and during the first two, served the green bay station also. he was transferred to the chicago district in , and was succeeded on the green bay district by rev. wm. h. sampson. at the close of the year, brother goodrich took a superannuated relation. rev. jesse halstead was appointed to the fond du lac charge, as before stated, and the mission was made to include both fond du lac and brothertown. he was also continued on the same charge the following year, the circuit now being changed from the platteville to the green bay district. we have spoken at length of the brothertown portion of the charge in previous chapters, and may now confine the record to that of fond du lac. during this year a class was formed at taycheedah with francis m. mccarty as leader. at the session of the conference, held aug. , , the name of fond du lac again fails to appear on the minutes, showing, doubtless, that, up to this date, it had not assumed sufficient importance as a religious centre to retain the name of a circuit. but at this session a charge appears under the name of lake winnebago, with rev. john p. gallup as pastor. this new charge contained so much of the old fond du lac mission as had been separated from brothertown, and, in addition, it swept down along the west side of the lake as far as oshkosh. at the conference of , the charge was continued, and rev. harvey s. bronson was appointed the pastor. the meetings during the year were still held in log houses, dr. mason c. darling, hon. edward pier and mr. norman pier furnishing the accommodations. it was in the residence of the second named that the first class was formed during this year by brother bronson. the class was composed of mr. and mrs. charles olmstead, mrs. edward pier, mr. and mrs. daniel c. brooks, mr. and mrs. norman pier and mrs. parsons. brother charles olmstead was the first leader. during his pastorate, brother bronson also formed a class at wilkinson's settlement, of which a record will be made elsewhere. in , fond du lac again appears on the minutes as a charge, and taycheedah is joined with it. rev. joseph t. lewis was appointed the pastor, and rev. wm. h. sampson the presiding elder. at the beginning of this year the meetings were transferred to a frame school house that had been erected in the village. the tide of emigration was now setting strongly in the direction of fond du lac and vicinity, and new settlements were being rapidly formed. the charge, following the general drift of things, extended its boundaries, adding several appointments, and among them waupun. soon after our settlement at this place, as detailed in a former chapter, we were informed that a quarterly meeting would be held in fond du lac, at a given date, in the near future. we decided to attend. the day came, and my father and i started on foot for the quarterly meeting. on reaching fond du lac we enquired for the presiding elder, in order to ascertain the time and place of meeting, and found that he had already gone over to the school house where the meeting was to be held. being directed, we soon found the place and entered. the elder sat behind the desk, ready to begin the services. the preacher in charge sat at his right hand, wearing a thoughtful mood. as we took our seats, both glanced at us, as did several of the congregation, doubtless thinking, "well there are two more pioneers, and they must be methodists to come thus to church on saturday." as soon as i felt assured that the eyes of the congregation were withdrawn from me, i ventured to look up and take the measure, in turn, of those present. there were, perhaps, twenty-five in attendance. they were so like, in their general appearance, congregations usually seen on such occasions in the east that it was difficult to realize we were in the far west. the service proceeded, and at its close the quarterly conference was held. we tarried, and after the opening services, my father arose and addressed the elder, stating that we had recently settled at waupun, and supposed we were outside of the boundaries of any charge. yet such was the flexibility of methodist institutions, he had no doubt the boundaries of fond du lac circuit could easily be thrown around waupun. if so, we would like to be recognized as members of the church. we were received on our credentials, my father as an ordained local preacher and i as an exhorter. before we left the quarterly meeting, it was decided that brother lewis should establish an appointment and form a class at waupun. but of this further mention will be made in a subsequent chapter. rev. wm. h. sampson, the presiding elder of the district, had been a member of the michigan conference. on invitation, he was transferred to the rock river in august, . his first appointment was milwaukee, of which mention will be made in another place. the next year he was sent to kenosha, then called southport, to save the church property which had fallen under financial embarrassment. having accomplished this task, he was, in july, , appointed to the charge of green bay district. a better selection for the position could not well have been made. he was just in the strength of his early manhood, an able preacher, a sound theologian, a wise administrator, and a man of agreeable presence. the country was new, society in a formative state, and the material limited. under these embarrassments, it required no little skill to lay the foundations wisely and successfully rear the superstructure. the district extended from green bay on the north to whitewater on the south, and from sheboygan on the east to portage city on the west, and included eight charges. to encompass the labor of a single year required the travel of four thousand miles. the roads were almost impassable, especially in the northern and eastern portions of the district. during certain seasons of the year, the buggy and sleigh could be used, but, in the main, these extended journeys were performed on horseback. a wagon road had been cut through the timber from fond du lac to lake michigan, but only one family, as yet, had found a home between the former place and sheboygan falls. between sheboygan and manitowoc, a distance of twenty-five miles, there was no house. the road, if such it might be called, was an unbroken line of mud of uncertain depth, and any amount of logs, stumps, roots and stones, to give it variety. the northern portion of the district was a wilderness, and the few points that had been invaded by settlements, were almost wholly inaccessable. in the southern portion the roads were better, but even here, and especially through the rock river woods, they were not inviting. the position of presiding elder on the green bay district at this time was no sinecure. the long journeys, the great exposure and the meager accommodations among the people, were trying in the extreme. but it was found that brother sampson was equal to every emergency. at this time there were only three churches on the district, and these were located at green bay, oneida and brothertown. brother sampson remained a full term on the district, and at its close became connected with the lawrence university, in connection with which a record of his labors will appear. in this work he was engaged until , when his health failed, and he was stationed at kenosha. he was recalled the year following, and until the year performed such services as his broken health would permit. he was now made effective and appointed professor, but in he again entered the regular work, being stationed at whitewater. his subsequent appointments have been, presiding elder of milwaukee district, pastor of racine, janesville, evansville, sharon, milton and waukau, where he is, at the present writing, doing efficient work. brother sampson has given to the cause long service, a noble life; and is an honor to the conference. the fourth quarterly conference of the year was held at fond du lac. it was at this meeting that i was granted license to preach and recommended to the conference, as before stated. the meeting was held in the school house and convened on the st day of may, . the members of the quarterly conference were rev. wm. h. sampson, presiding elder, rev. joseph t. lewis, preacher, rev. silas miller, local preacher, francis m. mccarty, isaac crofoot, joseph stowe, charles olmstead, d.c. brooks, cornelius davis, and myself. the population of fond du lac proper, at the time of our first visit, was very small. it contained seven buildings and numbered only five families, including the family of the presiding elder. the school house was the only public building, and for years was used for all public meetings known to civilization. subsequently this public convenience fell a prey to the devouring element. the papers, in announcing the fire, gravely enumerated the losses incurred by the disastrous conflagration in this wise: "the court house has been burned, every church in the town has been consumed, and even the school house and all the other public buildings have shared the same fate. there is no insurance, and the loss cannot be less than two hundred dollars." during the year an appointment was established at the residence of joseph stowe, esq., on the old military road, four miles west of fond du lac. to accommodate the settlement, now rapidly increasing in population, brother stowe built a hall for public worship. two square buildings were erected at a suitable distance from each other, with an open court between. over this court, and extending from one building to the other, and including the upper part of one of them, the hall was built, thus furnishing an upper chamber. the hall was fitted up with seats and formed a chapel of no mean pretensions for that early period. brother stowe's chapel, as the place was sometimes called, soon became a great institution in that region. a class was formed, and, under the leadership of isaac crofoot, greatly flourished. a few years after, the leadership passed to the hand of ethiel humiston. the members of this class were joseph stowe, priscilla stowe, isaac crofoot, ethiel humiston, almira humiston, amos lewis and susan lewis. the class meetings, as well as the public services at this chapel, now became objects of general interest. brother humiston had been raised under calvinistic teaching, and, until recently, had utterly failed to discover "the way of faith." but, coming to the light under the special teaching of the spirit, he had become a most remarkable illustration of this great arm of strength. in short, nothing could stand before his victorious faith. in this chapel there were most extraordinary displays of divine power. nor, under such leadership, need it be deemed strange that revivals sometimes swept the entire circuit of the year. nor were brother humiston's labors confined to his own neighborhood exclusively. he was often invited to other appointments on the charge, and even to other charges, to aid the preachers in their revival meetings, and his labors were always greatly blessed. i have known whole congregations melted to tears under the recitals of his christian experience. and could a record be made of the wonderful displays of divine grace in the experience and labors of this dear brother, it would be a priceless legacy to the church. but brother stowe was amply compensated for the erection of this temple for the lord. in one of the remarkable revivals enjoyed in it, and that, too, in the midst of harvest, his son, william page, now the presiding elder of milwaukee district, was converted. the home of brother stowe was always a stopping place for the preachers. the writer, in going up and down the land in his early itinerant labors, has been often entertained by this dear brother, and his excellent wife and family. repeatedly, when weary, i have gone to this home of the pilgrims as i would have gone to my own father's house, and in doing so, always found a generous welcome. william, then a lad, was always ready at the gate to take my horse, and the mother, a motherly, godly woman, as ready to spread the table. another appointment established this year was that of byron, where a class was formed by rev. joseph t. lewis on the th of july, the class was at first formed as a branch from fond du lac, but has since became the head of an independent charge. the first members were orrin morris, leader, olive morris, abraham shepherd, eliza a. shepherd, mary c. shepherd, and maria shepherd. the first sermon preached in byron proper was delivered by rev. morgan l. noble, pastor of fond du lac, january th, , and thereafter this place became a regular appointment. a very comfortable church was built at byron in , under the labors of rev. s.v.r. shepherd, pastor of the charge. in later years byron has become distinguished as the place where the fond du lac district camp meetings are held. rev. joseph t. lewis was received on trial at the conference held in chicago, august th, . his first appointment was elgin, ill., and his second, mutchakinoc. he was born in wales, and, at the time of his appointment to fond du lac, had been in america only five years. such had been his success, however, in acquiring the english language, that he was now able to speak it with remarkable fluency and correctness. brother lewis was a man of robust constitution, above medium height, had a strong face, adorned with a roman nose, and a piercing eye. he had a vigorous mind, was a thorough student and was already taking rank as a preacher. during his brief year on the charge, he found time not only to master the conference studies, but, by the aid of the writer, to make considerable progress in the study of greek. at the end of the year he reported ninety members. his subsequent appointments were: , sheboygan; and , beloit. during his last year at beloit, he was called from labor to reward. his illness was brief, eight days duration, but he was ready for the messenger. just before his departure, he said to his most estimable companion: "tell my brethren of the rock river conference that i die <i>shouting happy</i>." thus fell, on the d day of may, , one of the most promising young men of the conference. truly it is said: "god buries his workmen, yet carries on his work." the conference extended to the accomplished and devoted widow their profound sympathy. nor will it be amiss to say in this connection, that the widow several years after became the wife of rev. stephen adams, of beloit, and up to this hour is most highly esteemed by all who have the pleasure of an acquaintance. in , rev. morgan l. noble was appointed to the fond du lac charge and remained two years. he was received by the rock river conference in , and was appointed to du page circuit with rev. elihu springer as preacher in charge. brother noble was a man of superior talent, but his health was not equal to the itinerancy. at the close of his term at fond du lac, he took a location and entered secular pursuits. in rev. henry r. colman was sent to fond du lac, and also remained two years. brother colman entered the new york conference in may, , and his first appointment was warren circuit, with rev. joseph mccreery as his colleague. this charge was located forty miles from his residence and included twenty-four hundred square miles. his visits to his family were few, and the year was one of most severe labor. his receipts were only one hundred and forty dollars, showing that pioneer work had not at that period wholly ceased in the older states. luzerne, his next field, gave him one hundred and twenty dollars. the next year he traveled bridgeport, a large, four weeks circuit, and had for colleague rev. j.g. whitford. on this charge the receipts for the first two quarters were not equal to his moving expenses. he was next stationed at ticonderoga, westport and essex, and berne, successively, when he was invited by rev. john clark, who was east attending the general conference of , to come west and take charge of the oneida indian mission. he consented, and at the following session of the troy conference he was transferred to the rock river and assigned to that field, where he arrived september th, . he remained on this mission five years and was then appointed to brothertown as my successor. at the expiration of two years he was appointed to fond du lac, as above stated, where he contracted a severe cold, but thinking to remove it without difficulty, continued his labors. it was a fatal step. bronchitis set in and he lost his voice. he was granted a superannuated relation at the session of the wisconsin conference, held at beloit, july , . from this attack he has never sufficiently recovered to resume his labors. the loss of brother colman from the work in the conference was severely felt. of solid endowments, respectable attainments, large practicable knowledge and excellent administrative abilities, his services seemed almost necessary to the success of the work. we can only refer such difficult problems to the great head of the church for solution. during the nine years of brother colman's service in wisconsin, he was abundant in labor. he was emphatically a man of one work. his salary, like that of his co-laborers, was small, making an average of only two hundred and fifty dollars a year. certainly this was a small provision for himself, wife and five children. by a judicious investment at an early day, however, he is placed beyond the reach of want. he still lives in the affections of his brethren, and, after a superannuation of twenty-five years, his visits to the sessions of the conference always assure him a hearty greeting from his old friends. chapter v. green lake mission.--waupun.--first class.--meetings held at dr. bowmans.--revival.--two local preachers.--short cut to cereseo.--boxing the compass.--wisconsin phalanx.--first society.--dining hall chapel. discussions.--antiquated views.--green lake.--shadrach burdicks.--visit to dartford.--little green lake.--the new chorister.--markasan. lake maria.--revival. the rock river conference, for the year , held its session at peoria on the th day of august. at this conference i was received on trial and appointed to green lake mission. the class admitted this year numbered twenty-three, and among them were wesley lattin, seth w. ford and joseph m. walker. green lake mission, somewhat undefined in its geographical boundaries, was intended to include the large tract of beautiful prairie and opening country lying west and southwest of fond du lac. it took its name from a lake on what was believed to be its northern boundary, five miles west of ripon. as i did not attend the conference, i awaited the return of the presiding elder at waupun. being informed of my appointment, i enquired after its boundaries. the elder facetiously replied, "fix a point in the centre of winnebago marsh," since called lake horicon, "and draw a line to the north pole, and another due west to the rocky mountains, and you will have your eastern and southern boundaries. as to the other lines you need not be particular, as you will find no dr. marsh in your way to circumscribe your ambition." at the date of which we write, a few small settlements only had been formed within the limits of the mission, but emigration was moving rapidly in that direction, and it was believed that an ample field would soon be found. at waupun a class had been formed during the preceding year, as above stated, consisting of my father's family, six persons in all, as follows: rev. silas miller, eunice miller, henry l. hilyar, malvina f. hilyar, ezekiel t. miller and myself. this band consisted of three officers and three privates. my father was the local preacher, my brother the class leader, and i the exhorter. my mother, sister and sister's husband were the members. rev. samuel smith, an aged local preacher, and father of rev. charles smith, a worthy member of the wisconsin conference, had settled, with his family, in waupun during the preceding year, and had held religious services in private dwellings, whenever convenient. soon after the class was formed, father smith, as he was called, and his family identified themselves with the infant society and became efficient laborers in the lord's vinyard. at the same time the class was strengthened by the addition of dr. brooks bowman and his good lady. others were added during the year, including s.j. mattoon, mr. and mrs. s.a.l. davis, mr. and mrs. g.w. sexmith and mrs. f.f. davis. the class now numbered twenty-two members. a building had been erected by the contributions of the people in the village and country adjacent, for the purpose of a chapel and a school house. regular services had been held in the new edifice for several months, both morning and evening. but during the absence of the pastor at conference, two ministers of sister denominations came to the village and established appointments, occupying the house on alternate sabbaths, thereby displacing the former occupants altogether. on taking charge of the work, i called on the new comers and expressed a desire to occupy the house for the regular appointment once in two weeks, but found they were not disposed to meet my wishes. i suggested that such had been the previous custom and that our appointments were so arranged, we could not work to any other than a two weeks' plan. but finding them still indisposed to accommodate me, i merely stated to them that the house, having been built mostly by my people, and in part by myself, i could claim as a right what i had begged as a favor, but, since i saw they were indisposed to give me the only hour that would accommodate the balance of my work, i should seek a place elsewhere. at this juncture dr. brooks bowman, the physician of the village, generously offered his residence as a temporary chapel, and it was gratefully accepted. the wisdom of the movement was soon shown by the result. the people came to the private house, and, when they could find no room within, they uncomplainingly stood without. the lord poured out his spirit upon the people abundantly. the eldest daughter of our generous host, as the first trophy of grace, was converted. other conversions followed, and in a short time the number increased to twenty. among them were william mcelroy and wife and several others, who became leading and influential members of the church in waupun. the opposition soon came to naught, and the house was left to our peaceable occupancy. the local preachers rendered valuable services in the protracted meeting, and also alternated in filling the appointment during my absence in caring for other portions of the charge. father smith was not able to visit other neighborhoods, but my father was abundant in labors, extending his visits to every part of the charge and preaching usually twice, and sometimes three times on the sabbath. having spent my first sabbath at waupun i next visited ceresco, where a settlement had been made by the wisconsin phalanx, a fourierite association. there was no direct route, as all previous travel had taken a circuit to the west, thereby striking the trail from watertown. but i deemed it best to open a track at the outset across the country to the point of destination. obtaining a horse and saddle, and substituting a pocket compass for the saddlebags, as that evidence of civilization had not yet reached the village, i started out on my trip. unfortunately the day was cloudy, and in the absence of the sun recourse at an early stage of the journey was had to the faithful compass, but unhappily not soon enough to avoid perplexity. after having traveled some distance, as i believed in the right direction, i fell into a questioning, whether i should go to the right or left of a marsh lying directly before me. the compass was brought to aid in deciding the question. it was poised on the knob of the saddle, when, to my surprise, it seemed to point several degrees too far to the left. i boxed the truant thing again and again, but could not bring the needle to point in any other direction. so i concluded, if the mountain would not come to mahomet, mahomet must go to the mountain. out upon the trackless wilds, absolutely without any other guide, it would not do to ignore the compass. but now a new question arose. if the needle tells the truth, i must have been going in the wrong direction for, perhaps, some considerable distance. in such case, it is impossible to conjecture how far i may be out of the direct line of travel or how far i may be astray. the needle may point to the north pole, but i cannot be sure that, if i follow its guidance now, i will find ceresco in the line of travel. but there was no time to be lost. so, deciding that i must follow the compass, i reined my horse into line and started on, i had not gone far, however, before i found myself confronted by another large marsh. this must be avoided, and hence i made a circuit to the west and passed it, but in doing so, much precious time was lost, and speedily the night drew on. i was now without sun, stars or even compass. the stillness of the prairie was painful. and the scattered trees of the openings in the deepening shades of the evening looked more like muffled ghosts with huge umbrellas, than the beautiful groves they had appeared when seen by the light of day. pushing on through the darkness, i soon found i was nearer my destination than i supposed. leaving the groves on the right and passing over the prairie to the left, i had not gone far when a light was visible in the distance. on approaching, i found that i had reached ceresco, where i was most hospitably entertained by rev. uriel farmin, a local preacher and a member of the association. the wisconsin phalanx came from the southeastern portion of the territory and settled at this point in may, . soon after their settlement, rev. wm. h. sampson, presiding elder of green bay district, visited the place and held the first religious service of which i can obtain information. not long after the minister in charge of the winnebago lake mission at oshkosh visited ceresco, and formed a class of seven members. the names, as far as ascertained, were rev. uriel farmin and wife, mrs. morris farmin, mrs. beckwith and george limbert. the first named was appointed leader. the association had erected two long buildings, one for a tenement house and the other for a dining hall. the first was built with a wide hall running from one end to the other. on either side of this hall suits of rooms had been provided for the accommodation of the several families, giving to each family at least a parlor and one or more sleeping apartments, according to its needs. here families were as exclusive in their relations as good neighborhood could well require. the dining hall was a long, narrow building, giving in its width, barely room enough for the table, a row of persons on each side, and the free movement of the waiters behind them. the tables would accommodate one hundred and fifty at a fitting. in the rear of the dining hall, there was a large kitchen in which the cooking was done for the entire association. the service of the kitchen, as well as every other department, was performed by persons who either volunteered or were assigned to their positions by lot, and were paid by the hour from the common fund. divided into squads, each section had a foreman or directress, elected at reasonable intervals. it was expected that all the members would take their meals at the common table, yet exceptions were allowed in certain cases. it was affirmed that with this division of labor and a common table, the cost of board for a single individual per week did not exceed fifty cents. the association had under cultivation several hundred acres of land and were now putting flour mills in operation. goods were purchased at wholesale by the association and re-sold to individuals at the same rate. a school had been established and was under the care of a very competent teacher. thus, externally, everything appeared to promise well and the people seemed orderly and happy. but, like all other enterprises of the same character, selfishness and corruption finally crept in, and the institution fell into decay, and ultimately disappeared. the people of ceresco were always gratified to receive the attention of the outside world, and their hospitalities were proverbial. and, though not a few of the leading men were professed infidels, they always received ministers gladly and treated them with consideration. they were specially gratified to have religious services held among them, and the ringing of the bell would generally insure a good audience. the dining hall was used as a chapel until a more convenient place was provided in the erection of a large school house. here in the low, long hall i held forth on the following sabbath. the position was an awkward one. the table stood in the middle of the hall, reaching from one end to the other. the congregation was seated on each side in long rows. the preacher stood at the head of the table and threw his message along the narrow defile, greatly to his own annoyance, if not the discomfort of the people. to me the task was exceedingly disagreeable. my thin, feminine voice seemed to spend its volume before it had reached the middle of the line. then, my rapid manner of speaking seemed to send the words in wild confusion into the distant part of the hall. but i soon learned to gauge my voice to the place, and, thereafter, i enjoyed unusual freedom of speech. at the close of the services, the table was spread for dinner. i was assigned the head of the table, with the president of the association at my right, and the vice president at my left. both of these gentlemen were decidedly infidel in their views, and have since become somewhat distinguished as champions of unbelief. they always treated me with courtesy, however, and sought to make my visits agreeable. it was their custom to bring up some item in the sermon as the subject of discussion at the table. these discussions often became animated. but, having been somewhat schooled in that line of things, i always required a definite statement of position on both sides before any discussion could be had on the point assailed. this precaution kept the coast clear, and made these table conversations profitable. the president repeatedly expressed his gratification with the conversations, and also with the religious services of the day. and on one occasion he took the freedom to say, "though i am not a believer in christianity, yet i think there is nothing in the world that can so effectually harmonize the views and blend the sympathies of the community as these religious services." i took the occasion to suggest to him that his admission carried with it a complete vindication of the claims of religion and a proof of its divine origin. on another occasion, as i was mounting my horse to leave, the president expressed a wish that i would visit fox lake and establish an appointment in that village, assuring me that he had friends there, very intelligent people, who would receive me cordially and appreciate my labors. i enquired whether there were not religious services established already in fox lake. "oh! yes," he replied, "but they are not up to the times. they are conducted by a local preacher from waupun, a gentleman whom i greatly respect, but he is quite antiquated in some of his views." i enquired if he was free to state what these views were. he replied: "why, sir, he retains the old notion that the world was made in six days." "well, was it not, judge?" "why, certainly not," he answered, "any man at all abreast with the times knows better than that." willing to put the judge on the defensive whenever i could, i said; "well, judge, if it required more than six days, will you have the goodness to tell me just how long it did take to make it?" the judge felt the awkward position he was in, and before he could recover i had bidden him good bye and was on my way. nor was he less embarrassed when he came to learn that the old gentleman to whom he referred was my father. having spent the sabbath at ceresco, i now started in a southwesterly direction to explore the country along the south side of green lake, with the purpose to establish an appointment should a suitable location be found. after traveling about three miles, i came to a large log house, which with its surroundings seemed to say, "we have come to stay." hitching my horse to the limb of a tree near the gate, i approached the house. i was met at the door by a lady of fine presence and intelligent bearing, who invited me to enter and be seated. i began the conversation with the usual compliments to the weather and the beautiful country about green lake. receiving frank responses to these common places, i next enquired if there were still good locations untaken in the neighborhood. her intelligent face radiated a smile as her sharp eyes gave me a searching glance, which seemed to say, "you can't come any land-seeking dodge on me, you are a minister." changing the conversation, i soon found that the proprietor of the house was a mr. dakin, she, his sister, mrs. white, and that she was a methodist. at a subsequent visit to ceresco i had the pleasure to enter her name upon the list of members. passing on i came to the residence of mr. satterlee clark, since widely known in the state, but he being absent i stopped only a few moments and continued my exploration. the next house i visited was located near a beautiful spring in a grove of timber. the building was small, but the surroundings indicated thrift. i rode up to the door and saw a lady at her wash-tub. she threw the suds from her hands and came to the door. in a moment i recognized her as a lady whom i had known in the state of new york. she did not recognize me, however, as i had doubtless changed very much since she had seen me. but she was not mistaken in thinking i was a minister. she invited me to tarry for dinner, saying her husband would soon be in. when shadrach burdick, for that was the name of the husband, came to dinner he found his house invaded by the irrepressible itinerancy. he gave me a cordial welcome, expressed his satisfaction that his new location did not lie beyond the limits of gospel agencies, and urged me to make his house my home whenever i might come that way. i saw that he did not recognize me, and concluded not to make myself known until the surprise could be made more complete. conversation turned on the character of the settlement, the number of families and the prospect of opening an appointment. it was known that a few families had settled in the vicinity, but mine host was not informed as to their religious proclivities. i decided at once to visit every family in the neighborhood. passing down along the shore of green lake and thence up through the openings to the margin of the prairie, i found a half dozen families. i found also that, without exception, they were desirous to have religious meetings established in the neighborhood. receiving unexpected encouragement, i decided to hold a meeting before i left. fixing on the most central residence as our first chapel, we held service on wednesday evening. after preaching, i proceeded to form a class, and received eleven names. brother burdick was appointed the leader. he demurred, but i was not disposed to excuse him. i then quietly stated to the class that i had known their leader on the crumhorn, in the state of new york, where he held the same position, and i was fully persuaded there had been no mistake in the selection. the leader was not a little surprised at this turn of things, and concluded that he had nothing further to say, yet doubtless thought, "how strange it is that lads in so short a time will grow to be men?" at a subsequent visit i crossed the lake in a small boat to explore the neighborhood where dartford is now located, but found no settlement. an appointment, however, was opened at this point the following year with wm. c. sherwood as the leading spirit. at the present writing, dartford has become a fine village, has a good church, an energetic society, and has enjoyed the services of several of the strong men of the conference. at green lake the congregations and class grew rapidly, and before the expiration of the year the appointment had gained considerable prominence. as soon as a school house was built, the meetings were removed to it and continued there until , when a fine church was erected. leaving green lake and resuming my journey of exploration, i came to little green lake. here i found a four corners with a store on one side and a residence on the other. the residence was occupied by a mr. jewell, whose wife was a relative of rev. d. p. kidder, then in charge of our sunday school literature. my acquaintance with him soon made me acquainted with this most excellent family. on their kind invitation i established an appointment in their house, which was continued until their removal from the place. it was then removed to the residence of mr. roby, who, with his wife, was a member of the church. a small class was now formed. before the expiration of the year the appointment was moved a mile south to the school house in mackford. and after a time it was taken down to markesan, a mile west of mackford. if was at this place that i assumed the role of chorister, the occurrence transpiring in this wise. i announced my opening hymn, supposing that some one present would be able to lead the singing, but to my surprise not one was disposed to serve us. i had never attempted such a thing in my life as to "raise a tune" in public, and the only claim i had ever set up as a qualification was that i could put more tunes to each line of a hymn than any one that i had ever known. but something must be done, so i concluded to lead off. hunting through the garret of my memory, i brought out old balerma for the occasion. to my surprise, i went through the performance very much to my own satisfaction and comfort. and more, when i got along to the third verse, several persons in the congregation began to follow, with a manifest purpose to learn my tune. i dispensed with further singing, and at the close of the service a good brother came forward and remarked: "there were several ladies in the congregation who are excellent singers, and if you had sung a tune with which they were acquainted, they could have helped you very much." whereupon i concluded that if i were unable to sing the most familiar tune in the book, so that a bevy of good singers could discern what i was trying to render, i certainly could never succeed as a chorister. i never became the owner of a tuning fork. in the changes which followed in the boundaries of the charges, markesan was assigned first to one and then to another, but several years ago it came to the surface as the head of a circuit. and it now has a respectable standing as a charge with a good church and parsonage. resuming my search for new settlement, i next visited lake maria. here i first called at the house of mr. langdon. i was kindly received, and when my errand was made known i was pressingly invited to remain for the night, and hold a meeting before leaving the neighborhood. i consented, and on the following evening we held service in mr. langdon's house. lake maria was now taken into the list of appointments and was visited regularly during the year. at my third visit, which occurred on the th day of november, , i formed a class, consisting of lyman l. austin, amanda m. austin, mrs. l. martin, mrs. maria langdon, david c. jones and maryette jones. a protracted meeting was held soon after and thirty persons were converted. the fruit of this meeting carried the membership during the year up to twenty-five. among the additions were lansing martin, wm. hare, mrs. susan woodworth, and others, who have been pillars in the church. chapter vi. green lake mission continued.--quarterly meeting at oshkosh.--rev. g. n. hanson.--lake apuckaway.--lost and found.--salt and potatoes.--mill creek.--rock river.--rev. j.m.s. maxson.--oakfield.--cold bath.--fox lake.--gospel vs. whiskey.--on time.--badger hill.--s.a.l. davis.--miller's mill.--g. w. sexmith.--burnett.--william willard.--grand river.--david wood. it had been arranged at the conference that green lake and winnebago lake missions should hold their quarterly meetings together. the first was now to be held at oshkosh. in going, i took the trail leading from ceresco to oshkosh, and traveled the whole distance without finding a house. but at the intersection of the fond du lac and ceresco trails i met brother sampson, the presiding elder. on our arrival at oshkosh we found it had been arranged to hold the services on saturday in a private house on the south side of the river. the elder preached, and at the close of the service, the quarterly conference was convened under a tree, thereby giving the house to the needed preparations for dinner. rev. g.n. hanson was the pastor at oshkosh. he was a single man, several years my senior, of a kind and gentle spirit, given to books and a fair preacher. i had known him in the state of new york, where we were both exhorters, and, also, both engaged in teaching. brother hanson entered the rock river conference in , and his first charge was manitowoc. he had been stationed on the winnebago lake mission at the recent conference and was doing a good work. after leaving this charge he rendered effective service in other fields until , when, having almost lost the use of his voice, he took a superannuated relation. but as soon thereafter as his health would permit, he entered the service of the bible cause and for three years proved an efficient agent. in this work his field of labor lay mostly in the new and sparsely settled regions of the chippewa valley, and along the frontiers of minnesota. but here he evinced the same perseverance and self-denial which had characterized his whole life. leaving his most estimable companion, he took the word of god, and though he could no longer give it a living voice, he bore it joyfully to the families of the land, through the forest and marshes of those new counties, often throwing his shadow upon the coming footsteps of the itinerant himself. but at last he was compelled to yield to the hand of disease which had long rested upon him. he passed over the river in holy triumph in . on sabbath the meeting was held in a frame building, the first in the place, that had been erected for a store. it had been roofed and enclosed, but there were no doors or windows. rude seats had been arranged and the accommodations were ample. the elder preached in the morning and the writer, as the visiting pastor, in the afternoon. the meeting was well attended and greatly enjoyed by all. the people, of course, were mostly strangers to each other, and, coming from different parts of the world, were accustomed to various modes of worship. but they seemed to forget their differences, and recognize christ only as their common savior. at this time oshkosh was but little more than a mere trading post. the few families there were mostly on farms or claims in the vicinity of the river or lake. during my stay i was entertained by brother william w. wright, whose house, for many years thereafter, was a home for the itinerant ministers. the quarterly meeting passed off very pleasantly, and at its close i returned to my work of exploration on the green lake mission. flushed with the achievements of the previous few weeks, and still sighing for conquests, i now resolved to make a sally in the direction of lake apuckaway, lying to the northwest of lake maria. i found, on the southern shore, a few families, and made arrangements for an appointment in connection with my next round. i then started to return, but had not gone far, when i found i had lost my reckoning. i looked for my compass as eagerly as christian for his roll, but i could not find it. this was a double misfortune, to lose both the way and the guide at the same time. i resorted to the device of the backwoodsman, and tried to determine my course by the moss on the trees, but i found this to be a great perplexity and abandoned it. i traveled in divers directions and devious ways until nearly overcome with fatigue and hunger, when i suddenly came upon a newly erected log cabin. the logs had been rolled up to form the body, a roof of "shakes" had been hastily put on, there was no chinking between the logs, there were no windows, and the only door was a blanket. the floor was made of earth, and the fireplace was merely a pile of stones in one corner, from which the smoke ascended through an opening in the roof, at one corner of the building. i knocked for admittance, and was kindly received. the good man and his wife had but recently come into the country. he had succeeded in erecting his cabin and putting it in its present condition, but had been taken ill with the ague and compelled to suspend operations. he had now been so long confined at home that provisions had become scarce. it was meal time. a few potatoes were taken from the embers and placed on a chest, as a substitute for a table. i was invited to join them in their repast, using a trunk as a seat. grace was said, under a special sense of the divine favor. a little salt was added, and the meal was one of the most relishable i had ever eaten. several years after, i heard the good brother relate the circumstance in a love feast, when he took occasion to say the visit was the most refreshing he had ever experienced. it was certainly such to me. the village of kingston has since sprang up in the vicinity, and has become the head of a circuit. returning again to waupun, i now decided to look over the territory in the more immediate vicinity. going to the south of the village five miles, i found mill creek, where a small settlement had been made. the most central house of the neighborhood was the residence of brother david moul, who kindly offered it for a temporary chapel. an appointment was established, and on the th day of november a class was formed. brother moul was appointed leader. the class at the first, consisted of the leader and wife, david boynton and wife, and two others, but in the revival that soon followed, the number was increased to twenty-two. brother moul was an earnest worker in the master's vineyard, generous in his contributions to support the gospel, and eminently faithful to every trust committed to his keeping. at the end of twenty years, i made a visit to mill creek. i found brother moul had erected a fine house and was living in manifest comfort; but he retained a vivid recollection of the early days and their sacrifices. two relics remained, both in a fair state of preservation, which he took great pleasure in showing to me. the first was the old class book that i had given him at the time of the organization of the class. it was a single sheet of foolscap paper, folded together in book form, and stitched. the names upon it were mostly in my own handwriting, and the leader had carefully made his weekly entries of present and absent, until the pages were filled. the other object of interest was the old house, in which the first meetings were held. here we had seen remarkable displays of divine power. and as i now looked upon the old structure, the early scenes seemed to return. i could again see the wide room, filled with rude seats, brother moul at the door as usher, the crowds of people that thronged the place, the groups of seekers at the mourners' bench, and the lines of happy faces that were aglow with hallowed expressions of delight. i could again hear the songs of praise as they rang out in the olden time, full and sweet, filling the place with rarest melody. nay, as i held communion with the past, i seemed to feel the hallowed influences, that pervaded the early worshippers, breathing through all my being, as of old, and even fancy myself young again, and standing before the multitude as an ambassador of the master. but the scene, like the visions of the night, soon disappeared, and i turned sadly away, half regretting that i was no longer a pioneer, and permitted to feed the hungry sheep in the wilderness. brother david boynton, at this writing, remains on the old farm, which has been growing with the passing decades, until the paternal acres have become a large estate. situated on a prominent highway, his house, until the days of railroads, was the stopping place of all the preachers who needed entertainment at either noon or night. brother boynton, in the person of his son, rev. j.t. boynton, of the wisconsin conference, has given to the itinerant work, an efficient laborer. leaving mill creek, i next visited rock river, a settlement on the fond du lac road, six miles east of waupun. my father had visited this place during the preceding year, and had already established an appointment. brother w.j.c. robertson, a gentleman whom we had known in the east, had tendered the use of his house, and here the meetings were now being held. my first visit occurred on the th day of november, , in the evening, i held a service and formed a class. the members were w.j.c. robertson, martha robertson, mary maxson, mary keyes, james patterson, charles drake, abigail drake, and elizabeth winslow. the last named subsequently became the wife of rev. j.m.s. maxson. the first leader was brother robertson. both the congregation and class grew rapidly in this neighborhood, and the appointment soon took a leading position on the charge. during the ensuing winter a revival occurred, and gave an accession of twenty-five. from the first, this society has been blessed with a devoted and spiritual membership, and its prayer meetings have been a living power in the land. as a result, revivals have been frequent, and the number saved a host. passing from private houses, the meetings were held in a school house, but in course of time the school house became too small, and a larger one was built, with a special view to a provision for religious meetings. in later years i have held quarterly meetings in this building, when it was thronged with people. on such occasions, after filling the building to its utmost capacity, the good brethren would fill the court around it with wagons, carriages and buggies, loaded with people. it was at one of these gatherings that the little girl said, "why, ma, only see how full the school house is on the outside." during the past year a fine church has been erected. rock river was the home of the lamented rev. james m.s. maxson, before he entered the itinerant work. it was here that he was led to christ, licensed to preach, and sent out into the vineyard, and certainly the church has had no occasion to deplore her share of the responsibility. brother maxson entered the conference in , and filled with great credit, omro, fall river, grove street milwaukee, oconomowoc, rosendale and ripon charges. at the last named place, he closed his labors june , . he was a man of great force of character, a good preacher, and was thoroughly devoted to his work. he was greatly beloved in his fields of labor, and his death was deeply regretted. having organized the class at rock river, and arranged the plan of appointments to take it into the circuit, i passed on to visit an appointment at the wilkinson settlement, which had recently been attached to my charge from the fond du lac circuit. it was situated on the south side of the marsh, nine miles from fond du lac and twelve from waupun. the school house, in which the meetings were held, was located within the limits of the present village of oakfield. the class at this place had been formed during the early part of , by rev h.s. bronson, when he was pastor of lake winnebago mission, and consisted of russell wilkinson, leader, and alma, his wife, robert wilkinson, and almira, his wife, eliza botsford and sarah bull. to reach the settlement, it was necessary to follow the military road towards fond du lac for some distance, and then cross the marsh. at times, the stream in the middle was swollen, and the traveler was compelled to leave his horse and cross on foot. this was especially true when the ice was not sufficiently strong to bear up the horse, and such was the condition in which i found it on this occasion. so, leaving my horse, i hastened to cross the marsh, but when i had reached the middle of the stream, the treacherous ice gave way, and i plunged into the water up to my armpits. i clambered out, but as the day was intensely cold, i was soon a walking pillar of ice. i was now on the school house side of the stream, and there seemed to be no alternative but to go on. i would gladly have found a shelter and a fire elsewhere, but it was out of the question. so, putting on a bold face, i hastened forward, and found the people in waiting for the minister. as i entered the school house, with the ice rattling at every movement, my appearance was ridiculous in the extreme. but not more so than that of the audience. the faces of that crowd would certainly have been the delight of a painter. some of them were agape with surprise and amazement; others were agonized with sympathy for the poor minister; and others still were full of mirth, and would have laughed outright if they had not been in a religious meeting. as to myself, the whole matter took a mirthful turn. i had been in church before, when by some queer or grotesque conjunction of affairs, the whole audience lost self control. i had witnessed mistakes, blunders and accidents that would make even solemnity herself laugh, and remained serenely grave. but to see myself in the presence of that polite audience, standing at that stove, and turning from side to side, to thaw the icicles from the skirts of my coat, was too much for me. i confess it was utterly impossible to keep my face in harmony with the character of the pending services. at fox lake, the next point visited, an appointment had been established by my father during the previous year. the services were now held on sabbath afternoon in the tavern. the log house, thus used for the double purpose of a chapel and a tavern, was built with two parts, and might have been called a double house. the one end was occupied as a sitting-room and the other as a bar-room. the meetings were held, of course, in the former. but it was bringing the two kingdoms into close proximity to dispense the gospel in one end of the house and whisky in the other. in a short time, a better place was provided, and the meetings were removed to it. with the better provision for religious services, came also the ministers of other denominations. we all labored together in harmony, except in one instance, where a conflict of appointments caused a momentary ripple. my appointment had long been established, and, to the surprise of the people, another appointment was announced by a young store-keeper of the village for the same hour. the word reached me of this attempt to displace the methodists, when ten miles distant from the place. i took my dinner and rode forward, without "wrath" or "gainsaying." i reached the place at the hour, went in and began the services. while the congregation were singing, the young man and his minister came in. finding me in the desk, the minister quietly took a seat and listened very attentively to the sermon. but not so the discomfited young man. being placed under the eye of the congregation, his condition was pitiable in the extreme. but finding after awhile that i was master of the ceremonies, and that no one in the congregation seemed vexed enough to fight for him, he subsided into a deferential attitude. and, thereafter, there were no further attempts to override my appointments. the minister, or perhaps i should say clergyman, took no offense, but became in after years a highly valued friend and companion. at this time mrs. green was the only member of the methodist church in the village. in process of time, however, a strong society was established. then came the erection of a commodious church and a very pleasant parsonage. fox lake has been furnished with a line of able ministers, and has at the present writing a large and cultivated congregation. passing down the stream the following week, i found several families in the vicinity of badger hill. i immediately arranged an appointment for a week-day evening at the residence of a brother by the name of morgan. at the first service held december , , i formed a class of six. brother morgan was appointed leader, and at the quarterly meeting following brother drinkwater was made steward. some time after, the class was removed to fox lake, it being only three miles distant. i now returned again to waupun to spend the sabbath. the class leader at this time was s.a.l. davis, who came to the place during the preceding year. brother davis was an old neighbor from the east, a noble and true man, and, withal, had been my first leader. he was specially adapted to the position; a man of great faith and ardent impulses. under his leadership, the class was in a most flourishing condition. the late revival had, however, so swelled the numbers that a division became necessary. an appointment had already been established at miller's mill, and it was now deemed best to so divide the class as to establish the meetings of one of them at this point. the change was accordingly made. the class was formed december th, , and george w. sexmith was appointed leader. brother sexmith was also an old neighbor, who had come west and taken a farm in the vicinity of miller's mill. under his care, the class grew rapidly, and became an efficient company of laborers. several years after he removed to fond du lac, and greatly prospered in business. in i had the pleasure to present him with a local preacher's license. he was employed one year as pastor of liberty prairie circuit, but his health proved unequal to the itinerancy, and he was compelled to resume his relation as a local preacher, in which position he still holds an honored place among his brethren. the next place visited was burnett. the services were held in the residence of mr. mcdonald, and a class was formed december th, . the members of the first organization were william willard, leader, huldah ann willard, samuel c. grant, ruth m. grant, and elizabeth benedict. the class grew rapidly, and the appointment took a leading rank on the charge. burnett has since become a charge, has a good church edifice and a strong congregation. brother willard became a member of the conference, of whom mention will be made in another chapter. having organized the work at burnett, i next visited grand river. i had passed through this place in the early part of autumn. at that time i found brother david wood and his son engaged in making preparations for a home. finding they intended to have their cabin completed and the family in it before winter, i engaged to visit them and establish an appointment. on reaching the place to fulfil this agreement, i found that besides this family several others had also settled in the vicinity. at the first meeting, appointed before there was a family in the neighborhood, we had a congregation of fifteen persons. the class was formed december th, , with david wood as leader. the alto church, which gives the name to a charge, has been erected in the vicinity, and there is at the present writing a strong society. father wood, as he is now called, still survives, and takes special delight in referring to this visit of the 'boy preacher.' the watch-night meeting was held at waupun, and was an occasion of great interest, several persons being converted. chapter vii. green lake mission continued.--an assistant employed.--quarterly meeting at waupun.--love feast.--forty miles ride, and four sermons.--a sermon and its fruit.--portage prairie.--randolph.--randolph centre.--rolling prairie.--cheney's class.--brandon.--rosendale.--reed's corners.--strong's landing.--a night in the openings.--rev. uriel farmin.--going to conference.--madison.--visit at platteville.--bishop hamline.--humorous to grave.--galena conference. the work of the mission was now well in hand. but already the field was becoming extended and the labor onerous. thirteen regular preaching places had been established, and invitations were being received weekly to increase the number. to meet this demand, it was now determined to employ an assistant. the quarterly meeting was held soon after at waupun, and rev. uriel farmin was employed by the presiding elder to assist in filling the appointments. the meeting, the first of the kind ever held in waupun, was one of rare interest. the revival had just added a goodly number to the membership, besides greatly quickening others. there were present a number of visitors from the newly formed classes in other parts of the mission, and as a spirit of revival seemed to pervade their respective localties also, they struck the same plane as those at waupun. the elder preached the word, "in the demonstration of the spirit, and with power." but the meeting reached its climax in the sabbath morning love feast. the house was filled, and many were compelled to sit on the writing desks at the side of the room. the meeting was opened in the usual order, by passing to each a crumb of bread and a sip of water, in token of christian regard. christian testimonies followed each other in rapid succession, interspersed by singing spiritual songs, for a full hour. at times the tide of feeling rose, like swelling billows, to a great height, threatening to carry the meeting into disorder, but by giving it a happy change at the right moment, the elder was able to maintain a complete mastery. there were two periods specially critical. one, when a young lady, one of the converts at waupun, gave her testimony. standing on a seat, as there was no other place to stand, she first related her own experience, and then, turning to the young people, she delivered an exhortation that thrilled the audience with overwhelming emotions. the other was when a brother mosher, somewhat eccentric in his exercises, gave his experience. as he advanced in its recital, he grew excited and eloquent, and the "amens" and "hallelujahs" came from every part of the audience. now, leaping upon the tide of feeling he had raised, he passed from one to another, shaking hands and congratulating them, until he came in front of the desk where sat my father and father smith, the two patriarchs of the occasion. throwing his arms around their necks, he fairly lifted them from their seats, but in a moment, he discovered his awkward position and resumed his seat. instantly the clear voice of my father was heard in one of those outbursts of song, which so effectually kindle the fervors of devotion, or if needed, stay the flow of feeling. in a moment more, the meeting had passed the crisis. the mission was now put under a new plan, providing for alternate appointments, each preacher making the round in four weeks. but while this arrangement was the general order, the numerous calls received from various localities required frequent changes. in most cases, however, the new appointments were crowded between the others. to meet them, it required three sermons on the sabbath, besides many others during the week. as to myself, i sometimes rode forty miles on the sabbath and preached four sermons. on one of these excursions, i became very much exercised on the subject of christian holiness. i had before given the subject special thought, but now it seemed to assume unusual importance. not only did the teachings of our standards bear an unwonted clearness to my perception, but my heart began to realize its essential value. at my morning service, i preached on the subject, and as i swept over the prairie ten miles, in the face of a driving storm, i resolved to preach on the same subject again at my noon-day appointment. i did so, and with much better satisfaction than in the morning. twelve miles more of storm, and i was again before a congregation to preach the unsearchable riches of christ. i had now become so full of my theme that i concluded to make it the subject of my next discourse. so, changing my text, i preached on gospel purity, showing that experimental religion presents itself to the conception of the mind under three clearly defined ideas. these are justification, regeneration, and sanctification. the drift of thought ran in this wise: by justification we mean the pardon of sin. the man, who finds this grace through christ, stands as fully accepted before the law, as though he had never sinned. by regeneration, we mean that radical change of man's moral and spiritual condition which subjects all the faculties and powers of the soul to the control of the divine spirit. this work of grace, wrought in the heart by the spirit, includes not only the entire subjugation of the "man of sin," but the introduction of the reign of christ. these two achievements of grace, wrought in the subject at the same moment, we ordinarily call conversion. by sanctification, we mean that higher state of grace which contemplates the removal of all sin from the heart of the believer, and the experience of "perfect love." this last attainment comes to the believer through earnest seeking, and personal consecration to god. in thus "going on to perfection," the believer passes through several phases of experience. he finds that if he shall retain his justified state, it is necessary to seek advanced attainments. and if he shall be faithful in the use of grace already received, he will find the spirit ever leading him to new fields of experience. as the astronomer rests his calculations on worlds already discovered when he looks into the regions beyond, so the christian must maintain his present experience, if he will know the further revelations of the spirit. but the moral perceptions, quickened by the spirit, will furnish painful revelations to the justified soul. he will discover that there linger still within him remains of the carnal mind. pride, the love of the world, selfishness, self-will, and sometimes even anger or other evil passion, will begin to stir in the heart. such revelations will awaken a profound spiritual concern, and perhaps, become the subject of temptation. but there need be no alarm. it is but an evidence that the good work, began in regeneration, has not been fully completed by entire sanctification. the tree has been cut down, but the shoots around the old stump show that there is vitality still in the roots. the "mightier" than the "strong man" must now come and pluck up the roots. the work of eradication thus accomplished, the absolute reign of christ will be established. the heart will now become the garden of the lord, without briar, thorn, or thistle. relieved of these hindrances, the graces will speedily acquire maturity. at the close of the sermon, a good sister referred in very earnest terms to the discourse, and was grateful for the ministry of a man who so well understood the deep things of god. instantly the thought came, "ah, yes! but there must be a great difference between merely understanding the theory, and realizing a happy experience of the power." a hasty supper was eaten, and i was away for another ten miles to my evening appointment. the snow was still falling, and the winds were driving it fiercely across the prairie, rendering the track invisible. out on the prairie, my noble horse dashed forward with great speed, but i scarcely noted the distance, as my thought was busy. the question that was ringing through my heart was this: "how can you preach to others what you do not know yourself?" at length i resolved; and scarcely stopping to measure the movement, or estimate the consequences, i was on my knees, engaged in prayer. my first conscious thought of my surroundings was awakened by the wrestling of my horse, as my right hand held him firmly by the lines. then came the suggestion, "this is a very unpropitious time to settle a matter of this importance. with a fractious horse by the rein, a terrible storm sweeping over the prairie, and an already blind snow-path, you had better defer the matter for the present." my reply was, "it is time these questions were settled, and i propose to settle them now" "but the snow-path is nearly filled; you will lose your way and perish." i still replied, "it is time these questions were settled, and i propose to settle them now." "but it is getting dark, and your congregation will be waiting for you. you had better go forward, fill your appointment, and then attend to this matter." the lord helped me to reply once more, "it is time these questions were settled, and, god helping me, they shall be settled now." instantly the light broke upon me, and i was able "to reckon myself dead unto sin, but alive unto god, through jesus christ my lord." i was found in due time at my appointment, preaching from the text, "he is able to save unto the uttermost all who come unto god by him." learning that a settlement had been made on portage prairie, at a point where mr. langdon, of lake maria, had erected a lumber mill, i resolved to visit the locality. i found mr. langdon had erected a small house, and had already moved his family. i was welcomed to his new home and again invited to make his house a chapel until better accommodations could be secured. i accepted the kind offer, and thus cambria was made a regular appointment. i visited the few scattered families in the vicinity, and found sufficient material to organize a small class. the class was formed on the th day of january, , and at the beginning included mr. and mrs. irwin mccall, mr. and mrs. wm. wilson, mrs. maria langdon, and mrs. h. w. patton. cambria has since been largely settled by emigrants from wales. in march, i visited randolph and opened an appointment at the residence of father griffin. at the present writing, the village has become a respectable station, with a good church and parsonage. i also opened an appointment at the residence of mr. torbit, at randolph centre, which place has since become the head of a circuit. in may following, i formed a class on the north end of rolling prairie, with bro. greenleaf, a local preacher, as leader. wm. a. cheney and family settled on wedge's prairie in the early part of this year. his house was immediately opened for religious meetings. but before i could arrange my plans to visit the neighborhood, my father, who was always on the alert to carry the gospel message to the destitute, established an appointment. on his invitation i held a meeting there, on the third day of june, , and organized a class. the following were the first members: wm. a. cheney, leader, sophronia cheney, abigail cheney, d.s. cowles, ann cowles, henry moore, and wife. at this time brandon had not taken form or name, but, on its appearance, the honors and emoluments of this society passed over to its keeping. rosendale and reed's corners were next visited. at the first i held services in the house of mr. sanborn, after whom the prairie at that time was called, and at the latter, the meeting was held in the residence of a brother lee, a brother of the celebrated dr. luther lee. rosendale has since become a very pleasant station, with its convenient church and parsonage, and reed's corners is a prominent appointment in the brandon charge, and has also a fine church. having heard frequent reference made to strong's landing, on the fox river, i resolved to visit the place. on approaching the bank of the stream, i looked sharply in all directions to discover the town, but there were no evidences of human skill within the range of my vision. concluding that i had struck the river at the wrong place, i first passed down the stream for a mile, but failing to find any settlement i turned back. i now went up the stream for a considerable distance, and found a trail that seemed to lead down to the margin of the river. following it to the water, i found a small canoe tied to a tree. the light now dawned upon my understanding. this was strong's landing. not having prophetic vision, i was unable to see the city of the future, sitting so gracefully on the banks of the fox. again the itinerancy was ahead of the pioneer. leaving the site of the future city of berlin, i hastened to return to waupun, but a starless night overtaking me on the way, i spent its weary hours where the village of brandon now stands, under the branches of a friendly tree. the labors of the year were now drawing to a close. the regular appointments had multiplied until they numbered twenty-four. the membership had gone up from a small figure to two hundred, and the spiritual interests were in a highly satisfactory condition. my labors had been very arduous during the entire year, but had been well sustained until the latter part of the winter, when my health failed, resulting doubtless rather from exposure than labor. i was now laid aside for several weeks, but through the blessing of god and the skill of dr. bowman, my physician at waupun, my health so far rallied that it was believed to be safe to proceed with my work. my colleague had rendered effective service, proving to be a true yoke-fellow in every particular. besides taking his full share of the regular appointments, he also gave a large portion of his time to the special labors of the charge. he was not expected, at the outset, to give his whole time, but he soon became so fully identified with the work that he was almost constantly employed. in the severe labors of protracted meetings, and in the wide travel of the circuit of appointments, he was equally self-forgetting and faithful. he was a man of good attainments, kind spirit, studious habits, and an acceptable preacher. the charge being in a formative state, and the necessities of the preachers small, the financial receipts from the people were very limited. my own were only thirty-six dollars, and those of my colleague could not have been greater. in tracing the work on green lake mission, i have been thus specific for two reasons. i desired, in the first place, to give the reader an inside view of the relations of the itinerancy to frontier life, and in the second, note the beginnings of a list of charges that have since constituted a presiding elder's district. the rock river conference met this year in galena, ill. and as it was necessary for my father to attend the conference to receive elder's orders, we decided to make the journey in a buggy. the first day, passing through beaver dam, we reached fountain prairie, where we were entertained by rev. e.j. smith, of whom further mention will be made hereafter. at noon on the following day we reached madison, and were entertained by rev. r.j. harvey, the pastor of the charge. madison at this time was a small village, but, besides the capitol, contained several buildings of respectable size and appearance. the first methodist sermon preached in madison was delivered by rev. salmon stebbins on the th day of november, . brother stebbins was then the presiding elder of of the district, which extended along the western shore of lake michigan, from the state line to green bay. on visiting madison, he was entertained by the contractor, who was erecting the state house, and who also kept a hotel. on learning that brother stebbins was a minister, this gentleman invited the entire population to a meeting in his bar-room, and here the first sermon was preached. and i am informed that the people were so pleased with the services that on the following morning brother stebbins was presented with a collection of fourteen dollars. brother stebbins again visited the capital july th, , and spent the sabbath, preaching twice to respectable congregations. but as madison, now in the west wisconsin conference, has fallen more directly under the eye of rev. dr. bronson, and will doubtless appear in the western pioneer. i need not anticipate its historical incidents. passing on our way we were entertained the following night by a gentleman residing on the line of travel, some twenty miles beyond the capital, by the name of skinner. the following day we reached platteville, where we were to spend the sabbath. it was now friday night. early the next morning, we received an invitation to spend the afternoon, in company with others, at major roundtree's, with bishop hamline. we went. the company was composed mostly of preachers, on their way to conference. among them were the mitchells and haneys. of the first, there were father mitchell, a grand old patriarch, john t. james, and frank. of the latter, there were the father, richard, william, freeborn, and m.l. but the central figure among them all was the good bishop. of full form, compact frame, broad forehead, and strong features, he would be selected in any group as a princely man. and yet, withal, his spirit was as gentle as that of a child. though one of the intellectual giants of the country, and one of her greatest orators, he still seemed so humble in spirit that i felt myself drawn towards him at once. in such a presence the conversation was necessarily restrained. dismissing, for the time, the freedom of debate, anecdote and repartee, that so often characterize ministerial gatherings, the interchange of thought took on a more serious tone. only once was there an exception. referring to the labors of some distinguished man of his acquaintance, one of the leading brethren and prince of story tellers, whose name i need not mention, proceeded to relate an anecdote. immediately the tides of feeling began to rise, and, as the story advanced to its climax, they broke over all restraint. an immoderate laughter followed, in which no one joined more heartily than the brother himself. the storm of merriment, however, had hardly passed, when the bishop, in one of those indescribably solemn tones for which he was distinguished, said, "brethren, i always find it difficult to maintain the proper spiritual equilibrium without a good deal of prayer." then, turning to the offending brother, he added, "brother, will you lead us in prayer?" the entire company instantly fell upon their knees. but the poor brother! what could he do? pray he must, for the entire company were on their knees, waiting for him to begin. so, making a virtue of necessity, he made the venture. but, i am free to say, it took a good deal of coasting before the good brother could get his craft well out to sea, and headed towards the desired haven. during the balance of the visit anecdotes were at a discount. on monday we went forward to the conference, that i might appear before the committee of examination. the committee were revs. salmon stebbins, n.p. heath, and s. stover. chapter viii. appointed to watertown.--aztalan the mother of circuits.--divisions and subdivisions.--rev. s.h. stocking.--watertown.--church enterprise.--sickly season.--quarterly meeting at burnett--rev. a.p. allen.--elder sampson ties a knot.--conference of .--returned to watertown.--financial pressure.--opens a school.--the coat sermon. at the galena conference, green lake mission was divided into two four weeks' circuits, requiring the labor of four men. in view of my impaired health, i was sent to watertown, the cabinet believing that i would here find less labor and exposure. watertown, up to the preceding year, had been a part of the old aztalan circuit, and as this circuit was the mother of charges in this part of the territory, it is proper that our respects should first be paid to her. the old aztalan circuit was organized at the session of the illinois conference of , and embraced all the settled portion of the territory east of madison and west of the lake shore missions. the first preachers were rev. samuel pillsbury and rev. jesse halstead, and the year was one of extended travels and great exposure. during the year appointments were established at aztalan, whitewater, meacham's prairie, east troy, spring prairie, elkhorn, burlington, round prairie, menomonee, prairieville, oconomowoc, and watertown, and at several of them classes were formed. brother halstead's horse became disabled, and during a portion of the year this indomitable pioneer, with saddle-bags on his arm, made on foot, the entire round of appointments. brother pillsbury was also a man of sterling qualities, and rendered effective service. the quarterly meetings of this year were held by rev. salmon stebbins, the presiding elder, at aztalan, meacham's prairie, troy, and burlington. at the conference of , aztalan circuit was divided. the eastern part was called walworth, and rev. james mckean was appointed its pastor. the western part, retaining the rock river valley, was now called watertown, and rev. h.w. frink was appointed the pastor. both charges were now put in the milwaukee district, with rev. julius field as presiding elder. brother frink was now a young man, and this was his third charge. leaving the seat of the conference, he returned to elgin, his last field of labor, filled his saddle bags with clothes and books, mounted his horse as a true knight of the itinerancy, and was away for new perils and new conquests. in his journey to what was then deemed the wilds of wisconsin, he passed through elk grove, wheeling, indian creek, crystal lake, pleasant prairie, east troy, whitewater, fort atkinson and aztalan. the last named was the head of the mission, as a class, the only one on the charge, had been formed at this place. without much regard to boundaries, it was the work of the pioneer to find the scattered sheep in the wilderness. to do this, he was obliged to undertake long and wearisome journeys, through exposed and almost trackless regions. without roads, without bridges, and without shelter, our young itinerant pushed his way through the forests, swimming the streams, when fords could not be found, and seeking shelter under the overhanging branches of the trees, in the absence of the friendly cabin. as the result of these extended journeys and herculean labors, brother frink, during the year, formed classes at fort atkinson, jefferson, piperville, oconomowoc, summit, baxter's prairie, waukesha, poplar creek, brookfield, wauwatosa, granville, menomonee, lisbon and north prairie, but was unable to gather sufficient materials to form one at watertown. brother frink, however, enjoyed the honor of preaching the first sermon in this locality. as there was no school house or other public building that could be had, a small log house, twelve feet square, on the west side of the river, was secured. here the services were held during the balance of the year. the missionary was kindly received by all classes of people, and when in the place was usually entertained by hon. wm. m. dennis, since bank comptroller of the state, and patrick rogan, a gentleman whose religious affiliations were with the catholic church. at fort atkinson, brother frink preached and formed the class, in the residence of jesse roberts, during the winter of and . the members of the first class were jesse roberts, betsey roberts, franklin roberts, sarah roberts, martha fellows, anson stone, and mr. and mrs. harrison. the first church was built in , and fort atkinson became a separate charge in . it now ranks among the first charges in the janesville district. the class at jefferson was formed in the summer of , and the members were jacob fellows, martha fellows, mary fellows, and john masters. the name of the circuit was again changed in , watertown being dropped and aztalan restored. a change was also made in the name of the summit charge, which was now called prairieville. another dismemberment again befel the old aztalan circuit this year. the southern portion, lying down the rock river, was cut off and joined to territory that had been developed in rock county, from the east and south, and out of the united parts janesville charge was constructed. on the old aztalan charge rev. john hodges became the preacher, and on the janesville rev. alpha warren. by these changes aztalan was again reduced to the condition of a mission. in , rev. c.g. lathrop was appointed to aztalan, of whom a further record will be made in a subsequent chapter. both aztalan and janesville were now transferred from the platteville district to the rock river, a new district that had just been formed, with rev. s.h. stocking as presiding elder. brother stocking entered the traveling connection in oneida conference, and after filling a respectable class of appointments for a term of years, came to illinois at an early day. he was stationed at chicago in , at rockford in , and was presiding elder of mt. morris district in , rock river , ottawa and , and milwaukee in . brother stocking was highly esteemed by his brethren, and was an excellent laborer, but, his health failing, he was compelled to take a superannuated relation soon after the writer entered the work. he is spending the evening of life at beloit. in rev. stephen jones was sent to aztalan. in the charge was again divided and watertown charge was formed, brother jones being transferred to the new charge. rev. asa wood was now sent to aztalan, and remained one year, when he was succeeded by revs. c.n. wager and s. b. whipple. at the conference of the honors and emoluments of aztalan circuit passed over to the keeping of lake mills, which charge at this writing holds a respectable rank in the conference. watertown, at the time of my appointment, had been a separate charge one year. a church edifice had been commenced, and a class formed. the members were mr. and mrs. walter andrews, mr., and mrs. heber smith, mr. and mrs. calvin bunton, mr. and mrs. wm. a. dutcher, mr. and mrs. elihu higgins, mr. and mrs. albert cook, mrs. simeon ford, mr. and mrs. cheney adams, mr. sands cook, and others. the financial ability of the charge was moderate, and hence the erection of the church required a great effort. our meetings were held in the school house until the church edifice was enclosed, plastered, and furnished with temporary seats. the fall of was a season of unusual sickness, fevers in various forms being the principal ailment. along the valley of the rock river, the affliction became so flagrant that scarcely a family escaped. and in some families, so universal were its ravages, that not one member was left in condition to care for the balance. in this state of things hundreds suffered, and not a few even died for want of kindly attention. repeatedly, when riding through the country to visit the sick and bury the dead, i found flags of distress hung out over the dwellings of sick families, where not one was able to bring a pail of water, or provide a morsel of food. in such cases i installed myself master of ceremonies, kindled fires, brought water, administered medicines, and then went forward to render the same class of services to others. in attending funerals in the surrounding neighborhoods, i sometimes found there were not well people enough to bury their dead. after performing the sacred functions of my office as a minister, i was obliged to aid, with my own hands, to let the coffin down to its final resting place. though still frail from my illness during the previous year, i stood this strain for two months, when i was prostrated by an attack of bilious fever. during the first week of my illness a physician made two visits to my boarding place, and this was more than he could give to the greater portion of his patients. the family with whom i boarded were all sick, and i was dependent for care mostly upon such snatches of service as others could spare from pressing demands at home. at the end of a week, believing my chances of recovery, under such circumstances, precarious, i ordered my horse and buggy, and started for waupun, thirty miles distant. my friends remonstrated, and thought me insane; but, fortunately, they were too ill to prevent the movement. the attempt was perilous, indeed, but by the aid of stimulants, which i had provided with special care, and a will-power that nerved itself for the occasion, i made the passage safely. at the end of four hours i was comfortably housed at the residence of dr. bowman, who bestowed upon me skillful medical treatment, while his family gave me careful and faithful nursing. at the end of four weeks i was able to return to my post of duty. the sickness had now mostly passed, and i was able to enter more fully upon the regular labors of the charge. i now adopted a plan of systematic labor, giving the forenoons to my study and the afternoons to pastoral visiting. and i soon found that earnest and devoted labor brought its reward. a revival speedily followed, which added a goodly number of probationers. but the holidays were approaching, and it was expected that i would spend a portion of them at waupun, where, it was hinted, an event would transpire in which i might have a personal interest. anticipating the time several days, i went as far as clason's prairie, and turned aside to assist brother holmes, the pastor of the charge, for a few evenings in a protracted meeting. returning, i proceeded on my way to burnett. by arrangement, i met brother sampson here, and spent the sabbath with him, it being his quarterly meeting on the waupun charge. the preachers on the circuit were revs. a.p. allen and henry requa, the latter being employed by the elder as an assistant. brother allen was a man of mature years, though he had been in the work only a short time. he was a man of decided talent, but so full of queer ways and witty sayings that these seemed to give him his status in the general estimation of the people. he filled several leading charges in the conference, and served a full term as presiding elder on the racine district. but wherever he might be, the same tendency to create laughter was ever present. if an exception ever came to my knowledge, it must have been the one that is said to have occurred on a former charge at one of his outlying appointments. it is related that at this point the people had not shown much regard for the visits of the preacher or the sanctity of the sabbath, spending the day either in rioting or in the pursuit of their secular business. becoming disgusted with this state of things, brother allen announced at the close of his services, that on the occasion of his next visit, he would preach his farewell sermon. the day came, and the people, shocked at the idea of being left without meetings, came out in large numbers, leaving for once their business and sports. the services were opened in due form. on arising to announce the text, the preacher told the people that he had come prepared to preach his farewell sermon, and he was glad that so many had come out to hear it. he presumed they knew the reason of his purpose to leave them, and hence he need not consume time over that matter, but would proceed at once to announce as his text, the following passage of holy writ: 'oh, full of all subtlety and mischief, thou child of the devil, how long wilt thou not cease to pervert the right ways of the lord.' having repeated the text with emphasis, he looked over the congregation very gravely, and said, "ladies and gentlemen, you will perceive that i have chosen a pretty hard text. now it is not polite for people to go out of meeting during the preaching, and if any of you think that this text is too severe for you, you had better go out before we begin the sermon." as might have been expected, none were disposed to go. "well, then," said the preacher, "if you are not disposed to go, i will begin. i intend to show, in the first place, that you are all full of subtlety and mischief. in the second place, i intend to show that you are all the children of the devil, and in the third place, i intend to put to you the straight question, whether you intend to cease from thus perverting the right ways of the lord." the preacher, at this point, again, paused and looked over the congregation. "now you will say," he added, "this is going to be a hard sermon." "so it is, but if any of you think you can't sit to hear the truth told you, or in other words, to have your portraits taken, you had better leave now, for it is not polite to go out during the sermon." it was now too late to go, if any one felt inclined. so the sermon proceeded, and commanded respectful attention to its close. before leaving, the preacher was invited to continue the appointment, and consented to do so. but to return to the quarterly meeting. the people came in great numbers, and the services throughout were deeply impressive. on saturday evening, several souls were converted, and on the sabbath others were added to the number. but the crowning meeting was held on sabbath evening. before the hour of service had arrived, the school house was full, the seats even having been removed to furnish standing room. and yet crowds of people were coming from all directions. i finally proposed to the elder, that if he would put a man in my place in the school house, i would go over to the nearest neighbor's house and hold another service. the private house was soon filled, and in each congregation there were several conversions. on monday, january th, , brother sampson accompanied me to dr. bowman's at waupun, where he officiated in introducing the doctor's eldest daughter to the itinerancy. returning to watertown, i held protracted meetings at all the outlying appointments, and had the happiness to witness many conversions. but the year was one of hard labor and small financial receipts. at its close i found my receipts from the charge were forty-four dollars and my board. the forty-four dollars were put into the church enterprise, and i drew on my private funds for my incidental expenses. the conference met in clark street church, chicago, aug. th, . i passed my conference examination, was ordained deacon by bishop waugh, and reappointed to watertown. watertown was now placed in milwaukee district, with rev. elihu springer, as presiding elder. at the beginning of the new year we opened house-keeping in the upper rooms of a house on the corner of fourth and main streets. the first floor was occupied as a residence by judge enos. the year opened encouragingly. the church in the village required two sermons on the sabbath, and i had established other appointments in the country which required three a week, besides funeral sermons. the appointments were higgins and bennetts on the south of the village, and piperville, concord and newhouse on the east. at several of them, during the winter, protracted meetings were held, in addition to the one held in the village. at each several conversions occurred, making a fair aggregate in all. these extensive labors taxed me severely, and finally brought on an attack of fever. i was taken during sunday night, after preaching in watertown both morning and evening. the attack was so violent that before morning i had become deranged, and my life was despaired of. but through my wife's faithful watching and the good providence of god, i was able to resume my labors in three weeks. it now became apparent that a severe financial pressure was upon us. i had spent what i could immediately command of my own funds, and the good brethren had contributed so generously out of their scanty means, to place the church in condition for use, that they could not meet the pastor's salary. i saw clearly that some other provision must be made. while casting about to find my direction, a providential opening occurred. rev. mr. hoyt, the episcopal clergyman, who had been keeping a latin school for some time in the village, was compelled through illness to desist from teaching. fortunately, i had gone down several times at his request, and relieved him in hearing his classes in greek and latin. this little kindness, added to the fact i was one of the school commissioners of the county, naturally directed attention to me, as the person to open a select school in the village. i embraced the opportunity. the trustees kindly consented to the use of the church for the purpose. as the seats were only temporary, they were easily adjusted to the new order of things, and a school of sixty students was soon organized. this new demand upon me greatly abridged the pastoral work, but there seemed to be no other way to live. before i could realize anything, however, from the school, we found ourselves in very considerable embarrassment. in this emergency, my wife opened her doors for a few boarders, which met the immediate demands of the table. but at this juncture of our affairs, an incident occurred that afforded relief in another direction. my coat had become, through long wear and exposure, not a little seedy. on entering the pulpit one sabbath morning i found a note lying on the bible. i opened it and read as follows: "will mr. miller have the goodness to preach this morning from the text, 'i have put off my coat, and how shall i put it on?'" the note was written in a delicate hand and gave evidence of no ordinary cultivation. at the conclusion of the reading, i gave a searching glance over the congregation, but could make no face present plead guilty to the accusation of impertinence. the opening exercises of the service were not concluded before my course of action was decided upon. i read the note to the congregation, and stated that i had just found it on the desk. i further stated that i was at a loss to determine whether it was intended as a sneer at my old coat, or whether the writer really desired an exposition of the text named. but, believing that no one could so far forget a due sense of propriety as to deride honest poverty, or scoff at so faithful a servant as my old coat had been, even though it now began to show signs of age, i chose to take the latter view of the case. with this conviction, i should proceed to make the text the subject of the discourse. after giving the connection and context, i proceeded to define the subject of coats, arrange them into classes and set forth their uses. the spiritual application was not difficult, but it needed a little skill to cut the several styles so that each one could recognize his own pattern and appropriate the right garment. "of course," i remarked, "every one has heard of the garment of self-righteousness, though it may be that none in this congregation are aware of ever having seen it. yet, should you chance to look upon it, with its straight seams and buckram collar, i am quite sure you would not prefer it to my old coat, unseemly as it may appear." thus the sermon went on, to "cut to order" and "fit to measure," until all the most flagrant styles of coats had been disposed of, being careful, meantime, to institute the comparison in each case with the old coat before the audience. the discourse was perfectly ludicrous, but, like all of its kind, it took amazingly. its financial success was, doubtless, all that the writer of the note had intended. on the next sabbath morning the minister walked into church with a new outfit of wearing apparel, from the crown of the hat to the soles of the boots. watertown, from the first, was an unpromising field for ministerial labor. the leading influences at the beginning, if not directly opposed, were almost wholly indifferent to the claims of religion. chapter ix. waukesha--old prairieville circuit--changes--rev. l.f. moulthrop--rev. hooper crews--rev. j.m. walker--rev. washington wilcox--upper and nether millstones--our new field--revival--four sermons--platform missionary meetings--the orator--donning the eldership--the collection. the general conference of divided the rock river conference and formed the wisconsin. the first session of the new conference was held at kenosha july th, and i was stationed at waukesha. it will be remembered that prairieville was included in the watertown charge in , and formed one of the appointments established at that early day by brother frink. in the following year, when the summit charge was formed, prairieville fell into the new circuit. in prairieville took the name of the charge, and henceforth became the mother of circuits in this portion of the territory. rev. john g. whitcomb was appointed to the charge in , and rev. l.f. moulthrop in . brother moulthrop entered the conference in , and was first appointed to the racine mission. in he was stationed at troy, where he performed a vast amount of labor and gathered many souls for the master. he remained a second year and had for a colleague rev. henry whitehead, so well known in connection with the chicago depository. on coming to waukesha he had rev. s. stover as a colleague. at the close of his term brother moulthrop retired from the work, but was re-admitted to the conference in , it being conceded that so valiant a veteran should be permitted to spend the balance of his life in connection with the conference. prairieville circuit at this time extended from the lake towns to watertown, and into washington county as far as settlements had penetrated. as stated in a former chapter, brother frink had passed over this region in , and had formed classes during the conference year at several places, but it now remained for his successors to extend the field. in doing this brother moulthrop opened an appointment at wauwatosa and in several other neighborhoods. at prairieville, the class formed by brother frink consisted of mr. owen, leader, mrs. owen, richard smart, truman wheeler, mrs. truman wheeler, hiram wheeler, mrs. hiram wheeler, theophilus haylett and horace edsell, and to these were soon after added, mr. and mrs. winters, mr. and mrs. joseph hadfield, mr. and mrs. alexander henry, mr. and mrs. daniel clark, sarah packham, mr. blodgett, mr. and mrs. john bromell, john white, and rev. jonas clark. brother henry was soon after made the leader. the members of the class at summit were john merical, leader, levi merical, john merical, jr., philip scheuler, mary scheuler, maria l. frink, sarah taft, and sarah hardell. prairieville charge was now in the chicago district, and rev. hooper crews was the presiding elder. during this year he assisted brother moulthrop in holding a protracted meeting at prairieville, and large numbers were converted. brother crews was one of the choicest men in the conference. he began his ministerial work when what is now the great northwest was yet in its infancy, and has mingled in the discussion and settlement of all the great questions which have arisen. his appointments have placed him in the front rank of his compeers, and among them all, none have made a better record, or will go from labor to reward leaving a profounder regret among the people. at the milwaukee conference in , prairieville charge was divided. the northern portion was set off and erected into the washington mission, with rev. j.m. snow as pastor, of whom a record will be made in another chapter. brother moulthrop remained on the old charge, and was able to take care of what remained without an assistant. the following year, , the charge again required two men, and revs. g.w. cotrell and miles l. reed were appointed, and had a year of great prosperity. this year pewaukee was detached from the prairieville charge and added to washington mission, and as this change drew the latter to the southward, the name of washington was dropped, and that of menomonee substituted. brother snow remained on the charge. brother reed was a young man of great promise, but his career was of short duration. at the close of his year at prairieville, his failing health compelled him to leave the work. remaining, however, in the village, he was greatly useful and highly esteemed as a local preacher. in , the pastors of prairieville circuit were rev. washington wilcox and rev. j.m. walker. both of these devoted and earnest men were abundant in labor. protracted meetings were held at nearly all of the principal appointments, and large numbers were converted. it is affirmed that the junior preacher was engaged seventy five successive days in these meetings. it is not a matter of surprise that a severe illness followed. brother walker entered the conference, as before stated, in the class or , with the writer. his first circuit was elkhorn. during the year he had extensive revivals at both delavan and north geneva. after leaving prairieville he was sent to geneva, where he again had a prosperous year, and also found an excellent wife. his next field was rock prairie, to which he was sent in . here he had over two hundred conversions. the following year he was sent to union circuit, with rev. james lawson as colleague, and was returned to the same the next year. but in the early part of the year he was removed to beloit, to supply a vacancy. his next appointment was whitewater, where he succeeded in completing a church, and his next field was beaver dam. in he was appointed presiding elder of beaver dam district, which post he filled with great acceptability. his subsequent appointments have been spring street station, milwaukee, chaplain of the thirty-eighth regiment, beaver dam, oshkosh and green bay. at the last named, he is at the present writing doing effective service. in prairieville circuit was changed to a station, under the name of waukesha. brother wilcox was returned, and during the year built up a strong congregation, giving the station a front rank among the first charges of the conference. brother wilcox entered the traveling connection in the east and came to the illinois conference at an early day. he was stationed in galena in , and before coming to waukesha he had served dubuque, mineral point, dixon, elgin and sylvania. at the close of his term at waukesha he was appointed presiding elder of fond du lac district at the end of three years he was sent to the madison district, where he remained a full term. his subsequent appointments fell within the bounds of the west wisconsin conference, in all of which he acquitted himself creditably. his last field was baraboo station, where he passed from labor to reward, leaving to his brethren the record of a spotless life and unswerving devotion to the master's work. brother wilcox was an able minister of the lord jesus christ. he was a man of large intellect and strong convictions. his sermons embodied cardinal truth, and with him mere word painting was a sham. sometimes he was thought to be severe, but it was the severity of what he conceived to be truth. in debate, on the conference floor, or in discussion before an audience, he was a giant. at times he would seem to push his antagonist relentlessly, but it was only following his inexorable logic to its findings. the same thoroughness entered into all he did. on a committee it was his habit to go to the bottom of things. especially was this true in the conference examinations. i remember distinctly the examination that was had the year i graduated to elder's orders. with him as chairman, and another strong man, whom i need not name, as second, we were under the fiery ordeal seven sessions. i have never ceased to wonder that anything was left of us, after having been thus ground between the upper and nether millstones. and yet there was no unkindness, for in his feelings he was as tender as a child. the fact is, this noble man could never do anything by halves. if the faithful discharge of duty, the persistent adherence to the right, and unsparing self-denial, constitute the standard of nobility, then washington wilcox. had a right to claim his patent. at waukesha, a respectable church edifice had been erected in and . at a later period a small parsonage had been built, and on our arrival it was in readiness to receive us. the public services of the sabbath were held at half-past ten in the morning and at one in the afternoon. the latter had been so arranged to accommodate families in the country, who desired a second service before returning home. the plan, however, did not fully satisfy the people in the village, as it failed to provide for an evening service. it was suggested that in a village, a certain class of people could be induced to attend an evening service that would not go to any other. to test the matter, i opened an evening service. the arrangement proved satisfactory, and was continued, though it involved the necessity of having three services a day. the good seed of the kingdom, scattered among the crowds who gathered at the evening service, in due time began to bear fruit, and an extensive revival followed. as the good work in the village increased, and the number of converts was multiplied, the people of the surrounding neighborhoods became also interested, and attended the meeting. many of these were induced to accept the obligations of a holy life, and as a result, invitations began to multiply, requesting me to open appointments in their respective localities. i now selected five of the most central neighborhoods and established in them week-day evening services. but as the summer drew on, they were discontinued except two, and these, as the most promising, were assigned to the sabbath, and were filled on alternate days at four o'clock in the afternoon. to meet these appointments, in addition to the regular services in the village, required four sermons each sabbath. as to the propriety of undertaking this amount of labor, i need say nothing. some may deem it an evidence of zeal, but others that of folly. during this year the milwaukee district established a system of platform missionary meetings on the several charges. to further the object, it was decided to appoint two or three ministers to attend each meeting, and by dividing the labor throughout the district, bring thereby all the preachers upon the platform. on several of these occasions, i found myself associated with a brother who was beginning to attract considerable attention as a speaker. we usually put him on the programme for the closing speech, that he might furnish the "rousements," as bishop morris would say, for the collection. and in this particular we were seldom disappointed. the good brother was always ready for what might be called a flaming speech. and though he always ran in much the same channel, his craft, to use a figure, was always full-rigged and under full sail. but, to change the figure, and bring it more fully into harmony with the department of nature, from which the brother had evidently derived his name, i might say his pinions were always full fledged and in full tension for a lofty flight. unfortunately, however, he could never fold his wings in time to make a graceful descent when he desired to come down to the plane of ordinary mortals. in the descent he would sometimes "swap ends" so many times, that it was a marvel that a broken neck was not the result. but to his own mind these airy flights were always sublime, and especially so when he struck the quotation, which usually closed each missionary speech, that placed the herald of the gospel on the highest pinnacle of time, and made him "look back over the vista of receding ages" and "forward over the hill-tops of coming time," and "lift up his voice until it should echo from mountain top to mountain top, from valley to valley, from river to river, from ocean to ocean, from isle to isle, and from continent to continent, the whole earth around." of course the collection always followed this speech, and if it proved to be pretty good, a few additional feathers went into the pinions for the next flight. on one of these occasions our orator became greatly elated with his success, and rallied me upon the difference between the broad, velvety wing of the miller and the long, sharp pointed wing of his species. the opportunity was too good to be lost. i replied, "well, my brother, i had a thought last night, when i saw you towering to such dizzy heights in your speech." "what was it?" he enquired, eagerly. "oh!" i replied, "i would hardly dare to tell you." "yes, yes," said he, "let us have it." i still hesitated, until the several brethren present joined him in his persistent request. "well," i answered, "if you insist upon it i will state it. when i saw you making your lofty flights, i thought if you could only have a few feathers plucked from the wings of your imagination and placed in the tail of your judgment, you would make a grand flyer." the next flight was made with greater caution. the balance of the year at waukesha was given to the ordinary demands of the work. to the church there had been large accessions and to the parsonage a welcome guest, in the person of our eldest daughter. the wisconsin conference for was held at platteville. i crossed the state in a buggy and was assigned to father mitchell's for entertainment. to enjoy the hospitality of this truly christian gentleman and veteran patriarch for a week was a privilege that would mark an era at any time in a man's life. at this conference i was ordained an elder by bishop janes, and received my appointment for a second year at waukesha. rev. elihu springer was returned to milwaukee district for the third year. at my first quarterly meeting the elder insisted on a reconstruction of my work, in which he was joined by the local preachers and several other brethren of the charge. the noon-day sermon was dispensed with and the sabbath afternoon appointments were given mainly to the care of the local preachers. these were william carpenter, hiram crane, and miles l. reed, a trio of noble and devoted men. assisted by these faithful men and a united and earnest church, the work grew upon our hands, and this second year was also blessed with a precious revival. it was in connection with this revival and the garnering of the converts that the controversy arose between us and the baptist friends on the subject of baptism. as many of our converts had not enjoyed favorable opportunities to become informed on this subject, the pastor was desired by formal request to preach a sermon on the mode of baptism. this was done, and soon after the official board requested a copy for publication. the writer, supposing it was merely intended to secure a few copies through the columns of the village newspaper for convenient reference, hastily furnished the discourse. instead, however, of procuring a few slips only, it was published in pamphlet and given a more extensive circulation. in due time it was taken up by the pastor of the baptist church and reviewed at length in his pulpit. on the following sabbath the reviewer was himself reviewed, and here ended the controversy. it is a question whether such controversies are really beneficial. they usually engender strife and party feeling, and not unfrequently alienate the servants of our common master. but that such was not the case in this instance is pretty evident from the fact that at the session of our conference in waukesha the following year, the writer was requested to fill on the sabbath the pulpit of his former antagonist. on this charge also the writer took his first serious lesson in church trials. the matter in question arose out of a misunderstanding between a man and his wife, growing out of a want of interest, perhaps, on the part of the one, and jealousy on the part of the other. like other inexperienced administrators whom i have known, in trying to make crooked things straight, i invoked an agency that became a fire and a sword in my hand. neither the church nor the individuals concerned derived any advantage in the result, and though the wisdom of the administration was never called in question as far as i knew, yet i could not suppress the conviction that church trials can only be commended as a last resort. it is much easier to awaken than allay the spirit of strife. abating this discordant note, which did not long disturb the harmony of the church, the two years we spent on this charge are freighted with most precious memories. full of incident, and fragrant with blessing, they form a bright link in the chain of our itinerant life. happy in our work, with only occasional calls for special services abroad, the years passed swiftly and joyously. referring to services abroad reminds me of the quarterly meeting i held for the presiding elder, on what was then called howard's prairie, some twenty miles distant. seated in my buggy with my wife and child, i started on friday afternoon for the place. we reached the neighborhood at nightfall. we were directed by the elder to call on a given family for entertainment, the gentleman being the most wealthy methodist in the settlement. we halted the buggy at his gate, and i went in to crave his hospitality. as i approached the door and addressed myself to the master of the premises, he put on a frigid expression of countenance, and answered me coldly. i decided at once that i would not make myself known, but try the spirit of the man. i inquired whether there was to be a quarterly meeting in his neighborhood. he replied in the affirmative. i then inquired where the methodist preachers put up when they came into the settlement. he said, "they usually put up at the second house further on." i concluded the old gentleman was not expecting company until the presiding elder should come, and so concluded we had better go on. as i retired the old gentleman looked sharply after me, but doubtless thinking so small and young a man as i then was could not be the elder, he permitted me to go on my way. we went on to the house indicated, and inquired of the gentleman at the gate whether the methodist preachers who visited the settlement usually found entertainment with him. he replied, "i am not a methodist myself, but my old woman is one, i believe, and she sometimes takes in the preachers on her own hook, but she is not at home to-night. why didn't you stop up at the white house on the hill? he is the loudest methodist in this neighborhood." i inquired, "who lives up here in this small house that we have just passed?" "oh," said he, "that is my son, the class-leader." it was now quite dark. i returned to the buggy and asked my wife how she liked the presiding eldership. she laughed heartily, and said, "the fact is, they are all waiting for the presiding elder, for no one would ever take you for one." i concluded she was right, and on returning to the class-leader's house i made bold to announce myself in due form. we were most hospitably entertained, and were so pleased with our kind host and hostess that we felt constrained to decline, the next day, urgent invitations from both of the large houses. my wife has often queried since as to what became of the pies and cakes that were intended for the presiding elder on that occasion. the services of the sabbath were held in a school house. at the close of the morning sermon the pastor, rev. jesse halstead, volunteered to carry the hat through the congregation, to receive the collection for the presiding elder. after performing this service, he requested the good people to sing while he should count the funds. on completing the count, he found a deficiency, and concluded to carry the hat again. he started and moved leisurely along, taking special pains to afford all an opportunity to contribute, until he came to the dear man, whose acquaintance i had made the night before. he now paused, placed the hat on the desk, under the face of the reputed miser, put his hands in his pockets, and looked unconcernedly over the congregation, remarking, "well, brethren, there is no great hurry about this matter. if you have not got the money with you, we will give you plenty of time to borrow it from your neighbor." this new feature in the programme directed all eyes to the brother in whose custody the hat had been placed. for a moment he was frigid, but under such a concentration of piercing rays as were now turned upon him, he soon began to melt. turning to his neighbor, he borrowed a contribution, whereupon the hat moved on. chapter x. milwaukee--early history--first sermon--rev. mark robinson--first class--rev. john clark--trustees--rev. james ash--rev. david worthington--rev. julius field--rev. john crummer--first church--rev. john t. mitchell--rev. sias bolles--lantern convert--second church--rev. a. hanson--rev. dr. ryan--john h. van dyke--rev. f.m. mills--rev. james e. wilson--walker's point--first class--rev. wm. willard. the conference of was held june th at beloit, bishop hamline presiding. brother springer was returned to the milwaukee district, and i was appointed to spring street station, milwaukee. the charge included the entire city except walker's point, where a mission had been established, but before speaking of the station in connection with my labors, i should, in harmony with my general plan, first refer to its earlier history. in doing this, i can only give in these pages the briefest outline, and refer the reader, who may desire further information, to a pamphlet entitled "milwaukee methodism," published by the writer in . the name of milwaukee has, doubtless, come down to us from some extinct tribe of the aboriginal inhabitants of the country, as there seems to be nothing that will fully answer to it in any of the tongues now in use. in zenobius membre mentions the river of melleoke, flowing into lake dauphan, in latitude forty, with an indian village at its mouth. three generations later lieut. gorrell visited milwacky river, and found a village on its bank, with an indian trader. another interval of a generation occurred, and solomon juneau appeared and took up his residence in milwaukee in . other fur traders came soon after, but the real settlement of the country did not begin until , when nine families came, forming the nucleus of the future city. the first protestant sermon preached in milwaukee was delivered by a methodist clergyman in june, . the meeting was held in a log house, erected by dr. enoch chase for a residence, near the mouth of the river. milwaukee mission was organized by the illinois conference in the summer of , and rev. mark robinson, who had been admitted that year, was appointed to the charge. the presiding elder of the district, which extended from chicago to green bay, was the veteran pioneer, rev. john clark. the presiding elder visited milwaukee during this year and preached a sermon in the residence of dr. chase, this being at that time the principal place in which meetings were held. both the pastor and presiding elder were entertained by the doctor. the population of the village was very small, but before the expiration of the conference year brother robinson was able to form a class of four members. these first members were david worthington, mrs. samuel brown, mrs. j.k. lowry, and mrs. farmin. in the autumn of rev. william s. crissey was sent to milwaukee. the congregations were now growing, and it was found expedient to provide some place, other than a private residence, for the meetings. the society was not able to build, and to rent a suitable place seemed impossible. in this embarrassment a carpenter's shop belonging to two members of the church, w.a. and l.s. kellogg, was deemed the most feasible arrangement. this building, located on the corner of east water and huron streets, was a frame structure, and stood on posts. beneath and all around it was a pond of water, and to gain an entrance a narrow bridge was constructed from the street to the door. the first quarterly meeting was held in this place by rev. john clark, on the th and th of january, . at this meeting the pastor reported the conversion of mr. j.k. lowry, doubtless the first in the village. the legal organization of the church, according to the laws of the territory, was effected july d, , with elah dibble as chairman and w.a. kellogg as secretary. the first trustees were elah dibble, david worthington, w.a. kellogg, l.s. kellogg, j.k. lowry, jared thompson and joseph e. howe. the fourth quarterly meeting was held july th, and the pastor reported a membership of forty-five. in september, , rev. james r. goodrich was appointed to the station and rev. salmon stebbins to the district. among the members enrolled at this time i find the names of thomas mcelhenny, jared thompson, local preacher, mr. and mrs. l.s. kellogg, wm. a. kellogg, theresa kellogg, ophelia kellogg, amelia kellogg, mr. and mrs. alexander, david worthington, a.t. wilson, mrs. samuel brown, mrs. henry miller, mrs. j.k. lowry, james ash, mr. and mrs. elah dibble, and sisters adams, church, james and vail. during this year leader's meetings were established, and at the one held march th, , james ash, david worthington, francis metcalf and hiram johnson received exhorter's license. the first named became subsequently a member of the conference, traveled several years acceptably, was greatly beloved by all his brethren, and finally died within the bounds of new berlin circuit. brother worthington was a clerk in solomon juneau's store. in he entered the conference, was stationed at burlington and was returned the following year. in he was stationed at davenport, iowa, and thereafter his fields of labor fell within that state. he held an honored place among his brethren, represented them in the general conference, and a few years since closed a useful life and passed to his home on high. the other brethren became local preachers, and the former departed this life in christian triumph at appleton, nov. , , while the latter has become a successful business man, and is awaiting his summons. thus the infant society of milwaukee need not blush for her first contribution to the ministerial staff of the church. in rev. wellington weigly was appointed, but as the great financial disaster had prostrated the business of the country, leaving the people in poverty, he only remained a short time, and the pulpit was largely left to the care of brother thompson, the local preacher. in rev. julius field was appointed to the district, and the charge was left to be supplied. brother field entered the new york conference in , and before coming west had filled leading appointments, including new york city. he was transferred this year to the illinois conference, and assigned to the district. he remained two years, and was then appointed general agent of the bible society for northern illinois, wisconsin and iowa. he served in this field four years, was then stationed, in , at racine, but at the close of the year was re-transferred to his old conference, where he continued to render effective service, with but brief intervals, up to . having now completed a half century of labor, he was invited by his conference to deliver a semi-centennial sermon. having taken a superannuated relation, brother field, happy in spirit, is spending the evening of life among his friends, and awaiting the call of the master. the pastorate of milwaukee was soon filled by rev. daniel brayton, a superannuated member of the troy conference. it was now determined to build a church. hon. morgan l. martin came forward and generously donated a lot, situated on the east side of broadway, and between biddle and oneida streets, but the financial derangement still continuing, it was not deemed advisable to undertake the erection of the building. at the general conference of , the illinois conference was divided and the rock river took its northern territory. rev. john crummer was this year appointed to milwaukee. as the carpenter's shop could no longer be had as a chapel, the meetings passed from one private house to another for a time. but this state of things could not long continue. the erection of a church was decided upon, and before the close of the year the edifice was completed. it was dedicated by rev. julius field in may, . the building remains at this writing, on the same lot, but placed with the side to the street, it has been fitted up for residences. at the session of the rock river conference in , the milwaukee district was discontinued, and the city was placed on the chicago district. rev. john t. mitchell was appointed to the district, and rev. sias bolles to the station. brother mitchell was one of nature's noblemen. tall and erect in form, high and broad forehead, symmetrical and shapely cut features, dark and lustrous eyes, his bearing was princely. such was brother mitchell in the years of his strength. he was second to no man in his conference or state as a pulpit orator. in he was elected assistant book agent, cincinnati, where he served the church with distinguished ability. after leaving this position he re-entered the regular work in the cincinnati conference, from the ranks of which he passed on, several years ago, to the companionship of the white-robed in heaven. brother bolles, on coming to the city, first proceeded to liquidate the indebtedness of two hundred dollars on the church, and then entered upon a protracted meeting, which resulted in an extensive revival. among those converted was a german catholic boy, of whom the following incident is related: the first night he attended the meeting, brother bolles preached on the duty of christians to let their light shine. taking the instruction of the preacher in its most literal sense, the young man greatly surprised the good people on the following evening by stalking into church bearing a well-lighted lantern. on enquiring of the young man the reason for so strange a procedure, he answered: "why, the priest said i must let my light shine, and so i have brought it with me." the preacher carefully explained his sermon, bringing it down to the capacity of his auditor, and had the pleasure to see him thoroughly converted. many years after, brother bolles was happily surprised to meet his convert, who had grown into a christian gentleman of exalted position in society. in , rev. wm. h. sampson was sent to milwaukee, of whom a record is made elsewhere. the following year rev. james mitchell was appointed, and it was decided to enter upon a new church enterprise. a lot was purchased july d, , of john clifford, on the northwest corner of west water and spring streets. at the time of the purchase the location was considered by not a few to be unfortunate, as the population at that period on the west side was quite limited, and it was even hinted that a leading member of the board of trustees had unduly influenced the selection in order to enhance the value of certain property in the vicinity. but whatever may have been the complications of the case at the beginning, certain it is that it was found in due time to be a very excellent location. the building, forty-five by ninety feet in size, was commenced soon after, and carried forward as rapidly as possible to completion. it was a brick structure, trimmed with stone. standing with its front to west water, the side was turned to spring street. on the first floor there were four stores fronting spring street, and having cellars in the basement beneath them. the auditorium was on the second floor above the pavement and was reached by a broad flight of steps in the front of the edifice. between the outside entrance and the auditorium there was a vestibule with a class room on either side, and above it a commodious gallery. the auditorium was finished in a neat yet plain manner, and furnished sittings for about six hundred people. the whole structure cost upwards of ten thousand dollars. to defray the current expenses and erect such an edifice taxed the good people to the utmost limit of their resources, besides imposing on them a heavy indebtedness. but there was no lack of courage, and the good work went forward. in the milwaukee district was again revived and rev. james mitchell was assigned to it, and rev. f.a. savage was sent to the station. in the station was left to be supplied, and rev. abram hanson was called to fill the pastorate. finding it difficult to rent a house, brother hanson procured a boarding place for himself and good lady with mr. lindsay ward, where he spent the year and founded an abiding friendship. he was a man of superior pulpit ability and engaging manners. the congregation filled the new church edifice, and many valuable accessions were made to the membership. brother hanson after leaving milwaukee filled several important charges, and then retired from the work. for several years he served as the representative of our national government at liberia, where he fell under the fatal malaria of the african coast, and passed on to the better country. the next session of the conference was held aug. , . at this conference rev. s.h. stocking was continued on the district, and rev. w.m.d. ryan was appointed to the station. mr. ryan entered the ohio conference in , and came by transfer to the rock river conference in . after spending two years in chicago, where he had wrought a good work for the master, he was sent to this charge. the fame of the preacher had preceded him, and he was greeted by immense congregations. his ministry formed an epoch in the history of the church. he brought the same earnest manner, the same fiery eloquence, and the same shrewd business tact that had characterized his labors in chicago and elsewhere, and which have since placed him in the front rank of successful laborers in baltimore, philadelphia, and the metropolis of the nation. the stores in the church edifice were rented or sold for a term of years to liquidate the indebtedness of the society, and the church was placed on a substantial financial basis. but mr. ryan could hardly feel at home among his new associates, and in this new field of labor. his earlier associations were formed in a more southern latitude. the puritan type of society that, traveling westward on a line from new england, had struck milwaukee, was not congenial to his tastes and not wholly in harmony with his methods of ministerial labor. at the end of nine months he was invited to a pastorate in the city of baltimore, and he deemed it advisable to accept the invitation. his place in milwaukee was filled by rev. francis m. mills, who came, by exchange with mr. ryan, from the charge in baltimore to which the latter had been invited. mr. mills filled out the balance of the year. among the accessions to the charge this year was hon. john h. van dyke. soon after his arrival, though a young man, he became an official member, and has continued to hold positions of trust to the present writing. a man of thorough mental training, sound judgment, and unswerving integrity, he cannot fail to command the respect and esteem of all. his legal abilities have specially fitted him for the presidency of the board of trustees, the position he has long held, while his superior business sagacity has been of great service to the church in guiding her through the extraordinary trials she has been called to endure. nor has he proved less valuable financially. being possessed of large means, he is generous towards the church and the benevolent enterprises of the city. in rev. elihu springer was appointed to the district, and rev. francis m. mills was returned to the station. brother mills was an able preacher, but in his style of delivery was almost the reverse of his predecessor. he was a noble representative of baltimore methodism, but his health suffered from the bleak winds of the lake, and at the close of his term he was compelled to seek a milder atmosphere. the following two years rev. james e. wilson was stationed at milwaukee. brother wilson came to the conference from the protestant methodist church, in which he had held a prominent position both as a preacher and secretary of the conference. he was a man of genial spirit, affable manners, and commanding eloquence. his sermons were well prepared, and especially in given passages, were delivered with an unction and pathos that could not fail to produce an abiding impression. the great concourse of people who waited upon his ministry attested how highly he was appreciated by those who were permitted to listen to his weekly ministrations. a revival occurred during the winter, and at the close of the year he was able to report one hundred and sixty-four members and thirty-nine probationers. during the pastorate of brother wilson an unhappy controversy arose between the managers of the sunday school and the leaders of the social means of grace with reference to the hours of meeting. the official board decided in favor of the school, and an alienation of feeling was the result. a few of the disaffected withdrew, organized a wesleyan church, and called rev. mr. mckee as their pastor. though an unpleasant affair, the old church moved on as usual. but as another charge was now growing up in the southern part of the city, it is proper that i should refer to it before closing this chapter. in the fall of osmond bailey and a few others became specially interested in establishing regular religious services at walker's point. soon after a class was formed consisting of mr. and mrs. osmond bailey, mrs. capt. stewart, mrs. warren. mrs. almena waite, mrs. worden, mr. and mrs. daniel waite and m.s. velie. at the conference of , the small society was erected into a mission with rev. warner oliver as pastor. the meetings were held in a school house, located on lots eleven and twelve, in block one hundred and one. brother oliver was a man of fine talent, but was compelled to give a portion of his time to business, through the financial feebleness of the charge. in rev. william willard was appointed to the charge. it will be remembered that this good brother was a member of the class formed at burnett in . he entered the conference in , and had been stationed two years at aztalan. he was an earnest laborer, and under his administration the work was encouragingly prosperous. the congregations were growing and the people were beginning to agitate the measure of building a church. after leaving walker's point, brother willard remained in the regular work, with a few brief intervals, for many years, doing efficient service for the master. at this writing he is in nebraska, using such openings as may offer to help forward the good work. hiving thus briefly sketched the beginnings and progress of the good work in the city up to the time of my appointment, i will defer the balance of the record for the next chapter. chapter xi. spring street, milwaukee--first sabbath--promising outlook--the deep shadow--rev. elihu springer--rev. i.m. leihy--revival--missionary meetings--dedication at sheboygan--ravages of the cholera--death-bed scenes--the riot--bishop waugh--camp meeting--scandinavian work--rev. c. willerup. the spring street station had now attained the reputation of being the first charge in the conference. the church edifice, as we have seen, was decidedly respectable, both in size and character. the membership was enterprising, and full of the spirit of labor. in its official board were found l.s. kellogg, g.f. austin, john h. van dyke, geo. e.h. day, james seville, j.c. henderson, w.w. lake, wm. rowbotham, george southwell, wm. r. jones, wm. l. boughton, john kneene, wm. cossentine, c.f. larigo and charles randall. and during the year john kemp, cornelius morse, mitchell steever, c.c. chamberlin and henry seiler were added. my salary was fixed on the basis of the old disciplinary allowance: quarterage, $ ; table expenses, $ ; house rent, $ ; traveling expenses, $ ; making a total of $ . this amount would be considered a small allowance at the present time, but at that early day it was believed to be a generous provision for a family of three persons. my first sabbath, always a trial day to the preachers as well as the people, passed without any special disaster. perhaps it was owing in part to the presence of the presiding elder, who sat at my back. whatever he or the people may have thought, i certainly felt that i was a mere stripling going out with nothing in my hand but a sling and a pebble. nor did it relieve my embarrassment when i saw the great congregation, and remembered that they had enjoyed for two years the ministry of the most eloquent man in the conference. it is said that a minister ought always to be ready to preach or to die. i think, on that occasion, if i had been permitted to choose between them, i would have accepted the latter. as it was, i very nearly did both. and that i really did neither, i have always considered a special intervention of providence. on the part of the people there was evidently a suspension of judgment. they were doubtless puzzled by my contradictory appearances. in form i was slight and fragile, not weighing more than one hundred and thirty pounds, but in my face, though only twenty-eight years of age, i bore the appearance of being ten years older. at the close of the service a large number of people remained and gave the new minister a hearty greeting. it was timely, giving me to realize i was not quite gone to the land of shadows. i was informed afterwards that one good brother went home from the service and told his wife, who had not been present, that he had shaken hands with the new minister and his daughter. "no, father," said the daughter, "that lady was not the minister's daughter, but his wife." "well," replied the father, "she must be his second wife, for she looks young enough to be his daughter." whether this opinion should be interpreted as complimentary to the minister or his wife, i was never fully able to decide. having passed the crisis, the first sabbath, and survived the following week, i now began to adjust myself to my work. i was happy to find that the good people were strongly attached to prayer and class-meetings. this gave an assurance that there were at least some efficient laborers in the church, who could be relied on if we should find ourselves in a revival. i also found that the people could endure a large amount of pastoral visiting. these discoveries were enough for a start, and i entered upon the work without delay. about this time i was called to attend a funeral in one of the families that had gone out from the church the previous year, and were now members of the wesleyan organization. the next sabbath morning this family and several others were in my congregation. in the opening prayer i made the poor slave a special subject, as i often did. at the close of the service, the head of one of the families came forward and stated that mr. mckee, the pastor of the wesleyan church, had gone to the conference, and hence they were without services for a few sabbaths. but as for his part, he did not care if he never came back, for i was abolitionist enough for him. in a few weeks rev. t. orbison was sent to the city, in the place of mr. mckee. after the first sabbath, he called on me and said that he found his people quite disposed to return to the old church, and that in consequence, he had dispensed with his services the previous evening, and attended our church with them. he was now inclined to advise them to return, as he saw no occasion for two organizations. the leading members having previously decided to return, the balance now joined them in the movement, while those who had been gathered from other organizations, returned to their respective homes. brother orbison, in coming to this country from ireland, fell among the wesleyans on his arrival, and became identified with them, supposing they were the same body he had left at home. on learning his mistake, he now came over to us, and for many years was a worthy member of the wisconsin conference. after doing faithful service for many years, and winning the esteem of all, he laid aside the armor and took up the everlasting crown of rejoicing. the work of the year was now well begun. the house was filled with people, the finances were in excellent condition, and everything indicated a year of special success, but how strangely light and shadow, hopes and fears, rejoicing and mourning commingle in this life! while we were thus full of hope, and even exultant over the indications of a prosperous year, little did we imagine that we were then on the threshold of a deep affliction, arising from the sudden death of our presiding elder. brother springer left the city to hold his quarterly meetings at watertown and oconomowoc, the writer accompanying him to the city limits. on the st of august he closed his quarterly meeting services at watertown, took dinner at the parsonage with the pastor, rev. david brooks, and then rode on to oconomowoc. he stopped for the night with brother worthington, ate sparingly, and retired at the usual time. at three o'clock in the morning he was seized by the cholera. the attack, severe at first, soon became alarming. medical aid was called, but without avail. he lingered until six o'clock p.m., and passed away in great peace. his family were sent for, but failed to reach him before his departure. the funeral sermon was preached in the spring street church by the writer, from second timothy, . - . brother springer was received on trial by the illinois annual conference in september, . his appointments before coming to milwaukee district had been, carlinville, iroquois, oplaine, saminoc, bristol, lockport, joliet, st. charles, mineral point and hazel green. brother springer was a man of commanding presence. in form erect, full and athletic, with a broad, high forehead, and an intellectual face. the whole cast of the man indicated strength. he was a sound theologian, an able preacher and a wise and vigilant administrator. he was emphatically a true man, and, as a presiding elder, very popular. the loss of such a man, at forty years of age, was a great disaster to the conference. soon after the death of brother springer, rev. i.m. leihy was appointed as his successor on the district. brother leihy entered the conference in , and before coming to the district, had been stationed at hazel green, elizabeth, mineral point, platteville, southport, and beloit he was a man of marked ability both as a preacher and administrator. his leading endowment was strength, and on some chosen subject, a subject to which he had given special attention, his preaching was overwhelming. he was a man of immense will force, and not a whit behind the chief of his brethren in his devotion to the master's cause. neither storms nor other impediments deterred him from his work. with a face set as a flint against every obstacle in his path of duty, he drove straight on to fulfil the convictions of his dauntless spirit. by some he was thought to be severe, and not a little exacting, but those who knew him best were tolerant of his idiosyncrasies, and were prepared to assign him a chief place among his brethren. after completing his term on the district, he filled several important appointments, but finally located and removed to california, where at the present writing, as for several years past, he is again engaged in the regular work. during the fall and early winter there was manifest a growing spiritual interest among the people, which culminated ultimately in an extensive revival of religion. the protracted meeting continued five weeks, and resulted in the conversion of seventy-five souls. the plan of holding platform missionary meetings was continued during this year, and largely increased the contributions of the people. while on my way in company with brother leihy, to attend such a meeting at port washington, i formed the acquaintance of brother jesse hubbard and his good lady at mequon, where we halted for dinner. for many years this residence was the home of itinerant preachers and the nucleus of christian society in that region. the dedication of the german methodist church at sheboygan occurred in april of this year. i went down to perform the service in a steamer, but when ready to return, the waves were running too high for the boat to make the pier. the mishap left my pulpit without a supply for the sabbath, an event which seldom transpired, but gave me an opportunity to make the acquaintance of our people in that part of the conference, and the pleasure of preaching twice at sheboygan and once at sheboygan falls. during the summer of the cholera raged in milwaukee in a most appalling manner. the whole city was a hospital. for several days together it was claimed there were fifty deaths per day. though earnestly entreated to leave the city, as many others had done, i declined, feeling that my life was no more precious than the lives of others. besides, it seemed to me, if there is ever a time when a people need the aid of their pastor, it is when they are in peril and affliction. when at the height of its ravages, i repeatedly attended six funerals a day, and visited a dozen sick persons. the very men whom i met at a funeral one day, i would bury the next. mingling thus daily with the sick and dying, i could not well escape myself. i suffered two attacks during the season, but through great mercy, the lives both of myself and family were spared. during this terrible visitation i had frequent opportunities to test the value of the christian religion. so marked was the difference between the death-bed scenes of christians and the unconverted that even infidels themselves could not refrain from referring to it. as if to teach the people this great lesson, there were a few instances of triumphant deaths, and a few of the opposite class. one good sister, as she was gliding across the stream, enquired, "is this jordan?" she was told it was. "how calm and placid are its waters," she added. "i expected to find the billows running high, but, glory to jesus! there is not a ripple upon all the stream." unlike this scene was the death of a young man who had sent for me in great haste. on entering the room, i recognized him as a young man whom i had repeatedly urged, during our meeting of the previous winter, to give himself to the saviour. he was now in the throes of dissolution and i could hardly hope to reach him. wild with frenzy, he seemed to pray and curse with the same breath. as a momentary interval occurred between the paroxysms, i sought to arrest his attention and divert his thought to christ. he turned his piercing eyes on me and said, "oh! it is too late. last winter, if i had yielded to your kind admonitions, all would now be well, but it is too late, too late." another paroxysm seized him, and he was lost to all consciousness, and soon ceased to breathe. another event occurred this year of which mention should be made in this connection. it is the notorious riot. i quote from "milwaukee methodism." "rev. mr. leahy, a minister in the protestant methodist church, after visiting several of the principal cities of the union, came to milwaukee. having spent many years in a monastery, and having become convinced of his error, he now sought to enlighten the people on the subject of the confessional. he proposed, in coming to the city, to give a course of lectures in a public hall during the ensuing week. on the intervening sabbath he was invited to occupy several of the pulpits of the city. he had already filled one in the morning, another in the afternoon, and then came to the spring street church in the evening. the house was filled as usual. he opened the services in the regular order, took his text and began the delivery of his sermon. immediately a crowd of strange men began to press in at the door and push along up the center aisle. at a given signal, a rush was made towards the pulpit. comprehending the situation in an instant, the pastor, from his position in the pulpit, ordered them back, and at the same time directed the men nearest the aisle and altar to intercept their advance. a stone was hurled at the pastor's head, but it missed its mark and crashed against the wall in the rear of the pulpit. but l.s. kellogg, l.l. lee and others stood firmly in the aisle and dealt some vigorous blows in response to the clubs and other missiles with which they were being severely bruised. at this moment dr. waldo w. lake, who was sitting in the altar, drew a revolver which he on leaving home had put in his pocket, expecting after service to visit a patient in an exposed part of the city, and instantly the rioters fell back and retreated through the entrance to the street. during the conflict the audience room was a wild scene of confusion. the ladies became greatly alarmed, and required the attention of a large number of gentlemen in making their escape from the building. the door being thronged with the rioters, the principal egress was found to be the windows next to the street, and these were elevated a full story above the pavement. ladders, wagons, and other impromptu scaffolding were provided, and large numbers of ladies were rescued in this way, while others were crowded against the sides of the room until the rioters had withdrawn. after quiet had been restored measures were taken to convey the speaker safely to his lodgings at the hotel. but a good number of revolvers, carried by a posse of earnest men, were a sufficient protection against all evil-minded persons that thronged the streets on the way." the city was rocked with excitement. early next morning a meeting was held in the church edifice that had thus been made the scene of a riotous assault. the populace interpreted the affair rightly. it was not so much an attack upon a protestant church as an assault against the freedom of speech, one of the most sacred rights of the people. after expressing suitable indignation against the actors and abettors of the riot, and resolving to protect the freedom of speech so long as it should not offend against public morals, the meeting appointed a committee to wait on mr. leahy, and, on behalf of the community, guarantee him protection in his rights. under this protection a lecture was given in the free congregational church, and another on the public square, when, all danger of assault having disappeared, he was permitted to go on his way. the only persons seriously hurt were l.l. lee and l.s. kellogg. the first was compelled to carry a hand in a sling for a long time, and the latter was considerably injured by a blow from a club on the head. the blood ran freely, but he was able to attend the law and order meeting the following morning. his speech on the occasion became a watchword among the people. he said in a very resolute manner, "our fathers fought for freedom, both civil and religious, and if we have got to fight the battle over again i am ready, and i am willing that my blood should be the first to flow." the city appropriated one hundred and fifty dollars to repair the damages done to the church edifice. bishop waugh made us a visit near the close of the year. he was on his way to the conference to be held at waukesha, and went with us to the camp-meeting at brookfield. spring street station made no inconsiderable part of the meeting. she pitched a tent that would accommodate one hundred and fifty persons, and it was well filled from the beginning to the end of the meeting. it was a meeting of great power. none who heard the exhortations of the good bishop at the close of his sunday morning sermon can ever forget it. after holding the vast congregation spell-bound for more than an hour in the delivery of the sermon, the old man, with locks as white as the driven snow, came down from the stand, and, standing on a seat in the altar, began to invite mourners. the motives of the gospel were presented one after another, the tide of feeling rising, until the bishop was master of the occasion, and seemed to sway the people at his pleasure. the bishop's voice grew grandly eloquent as his great soul rose to the level of the effort, and before it and its burden of truth, the people began to bend, then brake, and finally flew to the altar. nor did the exhortation cease until the altar was literally crowded with seeking penitents. the scandinavian work was this year opened in wisconsin. to further this object the missionary management at new york sent forward rev. c. willerup, placing him at the beginning under my care. on reaching the city he found the population using the scandinavian language too small to organize the work, and we deemed it advisable to explore the interior. to do this he must have an itinerant's outfit, consisting at least of horse and saddle-bags. while he was employed in settling his family in a rented house, i visited the market and purchased a horse for him and the other necessary articles, using my own funds until drafts should be received from the missionary treasury. the desired location for the first mission was found at cambridge, where brother willerup organized a society and subsequently erected a church edifice. from this small beginning has since grown a family of charges and a line of able ministers, constituting a presiding elder's district. the conference year had now come to a close. many changes had occurred in spring street station. in consequence of the cholera, and the consequent stagnation of business, large numbers of the people went into the country. but notwithstanding this depletion, such had been the number of accessions, one hundred and seven in all, that i was able to report one hundred and fifty-seven members and sixty-three probationers, making a total of two hundred and twenty. the financial plan, adopted at the beginning of the year, that of collecting the funds in the classes, had proved a success. at the close of the year, the pastor was fully paid, and the society was out of debt. chapter xii. conference of .--presiding elder.--presentation.--give and take.--fond du lac district--quarterly meeting--rev. j.s. prescott.--footman vs. buggies--fond du lac.--two churches.--greenbush quarterly meeting--rev. david lewis--pioneer self-sacrifice.--finds a help-meet.--sheboygan falls.--rev. matthias himebaugh.--oshkosh--first class.--church enterprises. the conference for was held june th, at waukesha. the sessions were deeply spiritual, and were characterized by general harmony among the preachers. at this conference the committee on periodicals, of which i was a member, reported in favor of the establishment of a north western christian advocate, and the report was unanimously adopted. in the arrangement of appointments i was assigned to the fond du lac district. the appointment was a great surprise to myself, and doubtless to others. besides, it was not in harmony with my judgment or wishes. it seemed to me to be an unwise measure to take so young a man, only twenty-nine, from the companionship of books and the details of the pastoral office, and place him on a district where both of the departments of labor, so essential to success in the ministry, must necessarily be abridged. and in the next place, it appeared to me that, since there were so many other men in the conference, who were better qualified than i for the position, my appointment was but doing violence to the work. but i soon came to the conclusion that when an appointment has been made there is no further need to debate the question. in such a case, the sooner both the ministers and people adjust their views to the new order of things, the better for all concerned. accepting this view, i hastened to conform to the situation with as good grace as possible. and to aid me perhaps a little, several of the preachers surprised me by the presentation of a cane. i had heard it remarked that when a man used a cane, it was an evidence that he had a weak place somewhere between the crown of the head and the sole of the foot. i was now puzzled to know what the cane meant. there was doubtless a weak spot somewhere, in the opinion of the brethren. it must of course be either in the district or the incumbent. but my query as to which was soon answered. dr. bowman, my father-in-law, was traveling soon after in company with a good brother, when the conversation turned upon the appointments of the recent conference. it had not proceeded far when the brother remarked, in referring to my appointment, "the conference must have been hard up for material when it appointed that young stripling presiding elder." the mystery of the cane was now explained. the good brethren of the conference doubtless thought the matter could be helped out by the use of a cane. but a sharper joke than that was passed upon the people of fond du lac. only six years before they had given me license to preach, and sent me to the conference, and now, in sending me back so soon, the conference seemed to say, "brethren, we return you as good as you gave." i have heard it said that sometimes quarterly conferences grant licenses with the implied understanding that the recipients are not expected to serve the home church, but are good enough to preach to less highly favored people abroad. if this course had been adopted by these fond du lac brethren as their policy, certainly it was a cruel joke to return the labor of their hands on such short notice. but fortunately i was not supposed to know anything about this matter, and hence, on the principle that "where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise," i had nothing to do but to gather up my family and hasten to my new field of labor. fond du lac district at this time embraced that portion of the state lying north and east of the city of fond du lac, and included thirteen charges. a few of the charges could be reached by steamers on the fox and wolf rivers and lake winnebago, but the balance could only be visited by the stage or private conveyance. i chose to adopt the latter. having provided board for my wife and child with rev. m.l. noble, and secured a horse and buggy, i was ready to enter upon my work. the first quarterly meeting was held at fond du lac. the church edifice was unfinished, and the celebrated school house having been burned, as stated in a former chapter, the meeting was held in the court house. at that time the building, though now so dingy, was new, and aspired to be the most respectable edifice in the village. to prepare the court house especially for the quarterly meeting, the floors were newly carpeted with sawdust, even then a famous product of the village, and the seats well broomed. the place was crowded with people, and the occasion one of rare interest. the gospel was dispensed from the "seat of justice," the sacrament was administered within the "bar," now vacated by the lawyers, and the people knelt outside to receive the sacred emblems. several of the members present had attended the quarterly meeting in the school house six years before, and among them were a few who had known me from my boyhood. it afforded me great pleasure to meet them and receive their friendly greetings. rev. j.s. prescott, the pastor at fond du lac, had been bred to the legal profession in the state of ohio. he came to wisconsin as a local preacher, and joined the conference in . he had been stationed at sheboygan, waupun, and green bay. he was a man of sharp, decisive movements, sometimes angular in his opinions and measures, but full of energy and not afraid of hard work. he kept no horse, even when on the largest circuits, as he could not afford to wait for so laggard a conveyance. in this particular he became notorious, and marvelous stories are related of his pedestrian abilities. it is affirmed that, on one occasion, in going to the conference, he walked from waupun to platteville, and reached his destination in advance of the long line of ministerial buggies that were headed in that direction. carrying the same energy into every department of his work, he always left his "footprint" behind him. but his most devoted friends would sometimes question the wisdom of his measures. even in the small village of fond du lac, he had now two churches in process of erection. but such was his skill in raising funds at home and abroad that one of them was dedicated by bishop ames at the close of the year and the other by the writer in the year following. subsequently he served for several years as agent of lawrence university, and then entered upon the project of founding an institution of learning at point bluff. the selection of a location, however, was unfortunate, and his expectations were only partially realized. after this disaster he addressed himself to business pursuits. the fond du lac charge had now gained an influential position in the conference. among her membership she had several leading business men. and in addition, this place had now become the home of rev. h.r. colman and rev. m.l. noble, the last two pastors of the charge. my next meeting was held on greenbush circuit. this charge was midway between fond du lac and sheboygan, and had been established only two years. its eastern portion had been opened from sheboygan, and its western from fond du lac. it had neither church nor parsonage, and the minister lived in a shanty. the quarterly meeting was held in mr. tunis burhite's barn, about nine miles east of fond du lac. i found the pastor, rev. david lewis, at his post. as was his wont, he had made every needed preparation, and had brought out nearly the entire strength of his charge. the barn was filled with people, and the neighborhood taxed to its utmost to entertain the visitors. nor was it surprising that, with such a preparation, the meeting was an occasion of rare interest. for months and even years after, it was referred to with great satisfaction. at the time the opinions of people were found to differ. one good sister said in my hearing, "i think it is better to have old men like elder wilcox for presiding elders, rather than such young men, because they can keep a meeting steady and not let the people get so excited." but at the close of the services a veteran local preacher said, "the old elder gave us a straight talk this morning." both remarks were suggestive, and i resolved to bear myself with becoming dignity. brother lewis entered the rock river conference august th, , and was sent as junior preacher to indian creek, ill., a four weeks' circuit, the labor of which greatly taxed his strength. his next appointment was manitowoc, the charge extending from port washington to two rivers, and requiring one hundred and fifty miles of travel to each round of appointments. through these dense forests, as i have had occasion to remark in a former chapter, the roads were almost impassable, with long distances intervening between residences, and involving great fatigue and exposure. like the good brother frink, who preceded him in this field, he was compelled to swim rivers, suffer hunger and endure fatigue, that would appall a man of less nerve. during the winter his horse became disabled and he made the entire round on foot, carrying his provisions in a knapsack. such were the trials and exposures of the pioneers who planted the standard of the cross in the "sheboygan woods," as this region was called. they were indeed heroic men. there were a few scattered sheep in the wilderness, and these were gathered into the fold. at manitowoc, brother lewis formed a class. in brother lewis was sent to pewaukee, where he had eleven appointments. though at the beginning of the year there was no class on the charge, at its close brother lewis, was able to report sixty-five members. it was during this year that our sturdy pioneer took to himself a worthy helpmeet, in the person of miss adelia morley, who, as an inmate of the presiding elder's family, spread the table for the writer's first meal as an itinerant. brother lewis was next appointed successively to root river, kankakee, and brothertown, in which charges he enjoyed his usual share of hard work and spiritual prosperity. in he was appointed to sheboygan falls. the circuit was very large, taking the entire tract of country between the lake and fond du lac, but the year was one of marked success. finding the parsonage under a mortgage that imperiled the safety of the property, brother lewis stepped forward and offered his horse, saddle, and a dollar and a half, all the money he had, in liquidation of the indebtedness. they were accepted, and as a result, the dear brother traveled his circuits on foot for two years before he was able to procure another horse. such is the sterling material out of which the early itinerants were made. with such men in the field, it is not a matter of surprise that, under the divine blessing, the "wilderness and solitary place" were made to rejoice. at the close of his labors on this circuit, brother lewis was again sent to manitowoc for one year, when, the greenbush charge having been created, principally out of the west part of his former work, he was appointed to it, as before stated. after leaving greenbush he was stationed at west bend, columbus and fall river, oneida indian mission, new london, markesan, caldwell's prairie, and new berlin. at the janesville conference in , brother lewis, having served the church nearly thirty years with great devotion, took a superannuated relation. at this writing he is residing in fond du lac, maintains a happy frame of mind, and is still doing what he can for the cause. he certainly deserves well of his conference. sheboygan mission, the next point visited, appears on the minutes, as stated in a former chapter, in , with rev. h.w. frink as pastor. during this year brother frink formed a class at sheboygan, consisting of the following members: mr. and mrs. morris farmin, uriel farmin, benjamin farmin, mr. and mrs. elder farmin, and mr. and mrs. mccreedy. at the close of this year sheboygan disappears from the list of appointments, but in the manitowoc mission appears with rev. d. lewis as pastor, and sheboygan, it will be recollected, is named as one of the appointments. in , however, the name re-appears, and rev. joseph t. lewis was sent to the charge. from this time until the strength of the circuit consisted largely in the outlying appointments. but at this date sheboygan falls was erected into a separate charge, taking from sheboygan its several interior appointments. rev. daniel stansbury, the pastor, had commenced his labors in , and was now on his second year. the membership numbered only thirty-three, but brother stansbury had achieved a great work in the erection of a large and convenient church edifice. i had visited the village the preceding year, as before stated, to dedicate the german church, and had formed a very agreeable acquaintance with this truly noble man and his most estimable family. brother stansbury was from baltimore, and brought with him to wisconsin a goodly portion of the warm and cheerful type of baltimore methodism. he was received on trial by the wisconsin conference in , and hence sheboygan was his first appointment. his subsequent appointments were janesville, union, portage city, beaver dam, berlin and janesville district. in july of his second year on the district, and while preaching at his quarterly meeting on cambridge circuit, he was stricken down by paralysis. he was taken to his home in janesville, where he lingered in extreme feebleness until oct. , when he died in great peace. brother stansbury was a man of warm impulses, practical mind, and abundant labors. in the protracted meeting, his rare gifts of prayer and exhortation, made his labors a grand success, and, in the bright world beyond, it will be found that his comparatively short ministry gathered a large harvest of souls. i next visited sheboygan falls. the charge first appears on the minutes in , it having been created out of the interior portions of the sheboygan circuit. its first pastor, as we have seen, was rev. david lewis. in , the following year, rev. matthias himebaugh was appointed to the work. at this time the field embraced fifteen appointments, and required the travel of two hundred miles each month. like his predecessors, revs. j.s. prescott and d. lewis, brother himebaugh traveled this circuit on foot. the society in the village consisted of thirteen members, and included the names of mr. and mrs. l. cheeseman, mr. and mrs. parrish, mr. and mrs. goodell, mr. and mrs. sully, mr. and mrs. jackson, mr. and mrs. waite, and others. the public meetings were held in a school house outside of the village, and the prayer meetings in private houses. a lot had been purchased for a church and parsonage, and the latter had been partly built. on the arrival of brother himebaugh a hall was obtained in the village for the meetings, and soon after he commenced a subscription for a church. a revival occurred during the winter, and there were a goodly number of accessions, but they did not bring very much financial strength. the society, though small and in moderate circumstances, were very enterprising and generous in their effort to erect a church, subscribing towards the building one-fifth of their entire property. having secured pledges, amounting to twelve hundred dollars, the pastor now led a strong force of volunteer laborers in the manual labor of the undertaking. felling the first tree for the timber in the woods with his own hands, brother himebaugh gave the keynote to the movement. nor did he stay his hand until he had expended sixty days of labor. after accomplishing what he could at home, he visited milwaukee, chicago, and several towns and cities in the erie, pittsburgh and genesee conferences, to obtain aid to complete the enterprise. the edifice, forty by sixty, with a basement, was so far completed that the lecture-room was ready for dedication in december, . with this good work accomplished, our quarterly meeting at sheboygan falls was an occasion of great rejoicing. brother himebaugh entered the erie conference in , then twenty years of age. his first circuit was red bank, on the alleghany mountains. at the end of eleven years he was transferred to the wisconsin conference, and sheboygan falls was his first charge. after leaving this work, he was stationed in the north ward charge in fond du lac. here he also did a good work towards completing the church edifice, which had been begun by brother prescott. he also had a good revival during the year. in , brother himebaugh was stationed at oshkosh, where he performed prodigies of labor, preaching during a portion of the first year, on every other sabbath, four sermons, and walking fourteen miles. he also gathered large accessions, which rendered the charge self-sustaining thereafter. his subsequent appointments have been: madison, madison district, appleton, appleton district, agent of lawrence university, and assistant superintendent of the western seaman's friend society. at the present writing, he still holds the last named position, and represents the bethel interests in this city. he is yet strong physically and intellectually, and bids fair to give to the good cause many additional years. oshkosh was the next place visited. instead of finding, as in , a few small cabins, i now found a respectable village and a flourishing church. the first methodist sermon delivered in oshkosh was preached by the veteran pioneer, rev. jesse halstead, at the residence of mr. webster stanley, in . the place was now taken into the list of his appointments, and was supplied by brother halstead with considerable regularity. at a subsequent visit he was accompanied by his presiding elder, rev. james r. goodrich. the services were again held in the residence of mr. stanley, and at this meeting, which was held in the fall of , the first class was formed. the members were: ira aikin, mrs. aikin, his mother, rachel aikin, his sister, mrs. chester ford, miss ann brooks, and mrs. electa wright. brother aikin was the first leader, but soon after brother william w. wright and his wife becoming members, the leadership passed over to brother wright. before other provision was made, the meetings were held at the residences of mr. stanley, mrs. electa wright and william w. wright, but subsequently they passed to the school house and ultimately to the court house. in , rev. john p. gallup was appointed to the winnebago lake mission. his plan of labor gave to oshkosh every fourth sabbath, and the intervening time was filled by rev. clark dickinson, a highly esteemed local preacher, and others. a revival occurred this year that brought into the church the larger portion of the people living in oshkosh and vicinity. rev. harvey s. bronson was the pastor in , and was succeeded the following year by rev. joseph h. hurlbut. the first church edifice was erected under the pastorate of rev. robert everdell in . being the presiding elder of the district at that time, the writer performed the dedicatory service. the building was enlarged in and again in . under the pastorate of rev. wm. p. stowe there were large accessions, and he found it necessary to enlarge again, when in the writer was called to preach the re-opening sermon. the mother charge at this writing ranks among the leading stations of the conference, and rejoices in the companionship of two promising daughters. the first is located on the south side, where a lot was purchased and the contract for a building let, under the pastorate of rev. j.m. walker, in . the charge was organized the following year, and under the successive pastorates of revs. c.w. brewer and joseph anderson, the church was completed and the station assigned an honorable place in the conference. the other, located in the western part of the city, was erected into a separate charge at the last conference session, a chapel having been previously built. chapter xiii. fond du lac district continued.--green bay.--first settlement.--rev. john clark.--first sermon.--first class.--col. ryan.--first methodist.--first church enterprise.--good society.--heretical bonnet.--various changes.--rev. r.p. lawton--church disaster--purifying the temple--rev. s.w. ford.--oneida indian mission.--oneidas.--missionaries.--quarterly meeting.--council.--"chief jake."--interpreter.--rev. henry requa.--his dying message. green bay, the next point visited, is the oldest town within the bounds of the wisconsin conference. its site was explored by jean nicollet in , but its settlement did not begin for more than a century thereafter. in it contained seven families, and in there were one hundred and fifty inhabitants located in the village and its vicinity. the population now began to increase more rapidly, and in there were sixty dwellings and five hundred inhabitants. green bay was made a united states trading port in , with col. john bowyer as indian agent. and on the th of july of the following year, col. john miller commenced the erection of fort howard. the first frame house built, and perhaps the first in the state, was erected in , by col. e. childs. col. samuel ryan came to green bay in and was the first methodist, as far as i have been able to ascertain, who settled within the bounds of the wisconsin conference, and was probably the first in the state. from the time of his arrival until , the religious meetings were held in the garrison school house and in an old commissary store. thereafter, and until a church was erected, the services were held in a new yellow school house, or in the garrison building at fort howard. at the general conference, which was held in philadelphia in , action was taken looking to the extension of the missionary work of the church in the northwest. in furtherance of this object, rev. john clark, then of the new york conference, was sent out as superintendent of the work. this eminent minister and able administrator, whose special record i need not enter in these pages, as his life has been published, arrived at green bay july st, . immediately after his arrival he began his labors, preaching the first methodist sermon within the limits of the present boundaries of the wisconsin conference. the sermon was delivered in the fort, to both soldiers and citizens. the first class was formed by brother clark immediately after, the services being held also in the fort. this class consisted of four members, as follows: col. samuel ryan, sen., mrs. sherman, mrs. gen. brooke, and a young man whose name cannot be given. mrs. brooke was the wife of the commandant of the fort, and col. ryan was the leader. col. ryan was born in ireland, may d, , and in early youth entered upon the military profession. he was in the engagement between the shannon and chesapeake off boston harbor, fought june st, , and during the conflict was severely wounded. he was converted at sackett's harbor, n.y., under the ministry of rev. mr. irwin, in . in and ' , he resided at sault st. marie, and while there was leader of a class. during the year there was no minister at the sault, but brother ryan held religious services regularly among the soldiers, and as the fruit of his labors, seventy souls were converted. on coming to green bay, as above stated, in , he resumed his labors, and continued to devote himself to the good work in that locality for twenty-six years. the land office, in which he held the first place, being now, , removed to menasha, he also took up his residence in that village. brother ryan was a man of ardent temperament, full of vivacity, and not a little eccentric, but a true soldier of the lord jesus christ. as in his youth his dauntless spirit never cowered in the presence of an earthly foe, so, in maturer years, he was a fearless champion for the spiritual reign of the master. honored by all, the patriarch is now, "leaning upon the top of his staff," with his dimned eye looking across the river, ready to move on at any moment. one of the early laborers at green bay was rev. george white, who came from oneida conference, n.y. he was stationed at green bay in , brother clark having been assigned to the presiding eldership. under the labors of the new pastor, the work continued to prosper. on the d day of february, , brother clark reported to the christian advocate and journal as follows: "brother white is in the spirit of his work, and the lord is blessing his labors in the conversion of souls, both in the fort and among the citizens." the first church enterprise was entered upon in , when a lot was donated to the society for the purpose of erecting a church edifice. the deed was given on the th day of september, , by john jacob astor, ramsey crooks, emily crooks, robert stewart and eliza stewart, and was executed by james duane doty, their attorney. the trustees of the society, to whom the deed was made, were philip w. nicholas, francis mccarty, george white, thomas p. green, william white, edwin hart, and john p. gallup. the edifice was completed during the year, but in the effort the society became seriously involved, and were compelled to mortgage the property. the indebtedness hung as an incubus on the society for ten years, and finally, through some strange mismanagement, the property was sold at a great sacrifice to the roman catholics. at the session of the illinois conference, held sept. , , rev. philip w. nicholas was sent to green bay, and rev. salmon stebbins was assigned to the district. the congregations had now become highly respectable both in numbers and position. hon. m.l. martin had settled at green bay, and his good lady, who was a methodist, had become a member of the society. sister martin had been raised in affluent circumstances, and was a lady of fine culture and rare judgment. her husband, a member of the legal profession, and subsequently a delegate to congress and member of the constitutional convention of the state, was a man of good attainments and superior abilities. his family not only formed the nucleus of cultivated society, but also furnished a pleasant home for the itinerant. besides this excellent and cultured family, the congregation embraced col. ryan and family, as before stated, mrs. gen. brooke, and mrs. capt. kirby smith, whose husband was killed in the mexican war, she being now the wife of gen. eaton, quartermaster general of the u.s.a. in addition, gov. and mrs. doty were constant attendants upon the chapel, as were also gen. and mrs. marcy, whose daughter, mrs. george b. mcclellan, was born here, and the most excellent of all the officers, capt. merrill and his young wife. referring to the class of society that constituted at first the class and congregation at green bay, reminds me of a case of church discipline which occurred there about the days of which i am now writing. it happened on this wise: one of the young members of the class, and perhaps the youngest, for she had but recently come west as the bride of a distinguished citizen whose name has already been mentioned, had become the owner of a new bonnet. the lady herself had never, though fashionably raised, shown a fondness for gaudy apparel, but, being obliged to send to detroit for all millinery accommodations, she sometimes felt constrained to wear articles that were not selected in harmony with her tastes. the new bonnet fell somewhat into this category. if i were gifted in that line, i would attempt a description of the new comer, but, as i am not, i will simply say it was made in the height of the then fashion, with a small crown and a very high, flaring front, with ornaments atop. on the sabbath following its arrival, the good sister put on her bonnet as innocently as in childhood she had ever said "our father" at her mother's knee, and went to church. she walked modestly to her seat, bowed her head as usual, and the services proceeded. she certainly felt devout, and she had not the remotest idea that there was anything in the church that could disturb the devotion of others. but alas! for poor human nature. a horrible nightmare was that moment lurking under the wings of the beautiful dream of our innocent sister. in that highly respectable congregation, there were evil eyes that could not look at the minister or close in prayer. they were fixed upon the gaudy bonnet. at the close of the services comment was rife. some of the good plain people christened the newly arrived, "the methodist flower-pot," while others looked exceedingly unhappy. but there was one resolute brother who could not permit matters to go on in this way, and hence the case was brought before the church. the zealous brother stated the case and declared that if mr. wesley's rule in regard to "high heads and enormous bonnets" meant anything, this was "the time to put it to the test and prove its efficacy." he further stated that it was "better to begin at the top round of the ladder and work down, rather than take up some offending sister from a lower round as an example." of course all things were now ready for a decapitation, but judge of the surprise of the brother, when the good sister showed herself not to be very "high-headed," though big-bonneted, by offering the offensive article to her accuser, to manipulate into orthodox form, if he were pleased to do so, otherwise it would have to remain, like mordecai at the king's gate, steadfast and immovable. the bonnet was not manipulated, and the good sister continued to wear what neither her accuser nor any other person in green bay could put into another form. before the expiration of his second year, brother nicholas gave up the pastorate of the charge, and his place was supplied by rev. stephen p. keyes. in , rev. f.a. chenoweth was appointed to the charge, and rev. julius field was assigned to the district. in green bay was left to be supplied, and rev. boyd phelps was employed as the supply, and the charge was assigned to platteville district, with rev. h.w. reed as presiding elder. the following year, , the green bay district was formed, with rev. james r. goodrich as the presiding elder, and his name appears also as pastor of the charge, but it is probable that brother phelps also assisted him in the pastorate as a supply. in the appointments remained the same, but in rev. g.l.s. stuff was appointed to the station. brother stuff and brother keyes are remembered with great pleasure at green bay, as men of sterling qualities and marked ability, but as their labors have mostly fallen within the rock river conference, their record will doubtless be made in connection with that field. in , rev. wm. h. sampson was appointed to the district, as stated elsewhere, and rev. c.n. wager to the station. he was followed in by rev. t.p. bingham, and the year following by rev. r.p. lawton. brother lawton entered the rock river conference this year, and in this, his first appointment, acquitted himself creditably. as this good brother, who may be set down as one of the pioneers of the conference, began his labors, so he has continued to the present hour. his appointments after leaving green bay, have been dixon, ill., delavan, mineral point, waukesha, reed street, milwaukee, palmyra, grafton, root river, elkhorn, delavan, east troy, evansville, rosendale, wautoma, plover, new london, hart prairie, utter's corners, footville, and jefferson, where he is located at this writing. brother lawton is a good preacher, has a genial spirit, and is devoted to his work. he has passed over the greater portion of the conference, and has a host of friends wherever he has been stationed. rev. a.b. randall was sent to green bay in , and it was during this year that the church edifice was sold. this church was dedicated, doubtless, by rev. john clark, and had been used for ten years for religious purposes, yet it is surprising to find how much of time and labor it required to purify it after it fell into the hands of the catholics. i am told that they spent days of labor and nights of vigil, exhausted miniature rivulets of holy water, and pounds of precious "gems, frankincense, and myrrh," exorcising the devils and scattering the methodist imps of darkness from the holy place. the balance of the money, after paying the indebtedness, was applied to the purchase of the second church, which was still in use at the time of my visit. on coming to green bay i found rev. seth w. ford as pastor, who was commencing his second year on the charge. he was in the midst of a revival, and the charge appeared to be in a prosperous condition. the quarterly meeting passed off very pleasantly, and gave me the opportunity to share the hospitality of hon. m.l. martin and his excellent family. i also visited the fort, and had the pleasure to enjoy the companionship of col. ryan and his family. brother ford entered the conference in , as a classmate of the writer, and passed with him through the course of graduation. i have referred in a former chapter to the seven sessions through which we passed between the upper and nether millstones. whether the result was flour or bran in the estimation of the committee would have been forever hidden from us, doubtless, had not the good brethren, after our election to elder's orders, moved that brother ford and myself be a committee to examine those of the class who had not been before the committee. with our own experience fresh in our minds, i have no doubt the balance of the class had an easy passage. brother ford's fields of labor had been hamilton grove, macomb, and oneida indian mission. in each he had made a good record, and was now rapidly rising in his conference. since he left green bay he has continued to hold good appointments, and has served his conference six times as its secretary. though slender in form, and apparently not vigorous in health, he has nevertheless taken his full share of work and is highly respected by his brethren. the oneida indian mission, lying twelve miles to the northwest of green bay, next claimed my attention. seated in my buggy, i was soon at the parsonage, where i found rev. henry requa, the missionary, and his kind family. the oneidas came from the state of new york. a few of them came as early as , but through some hitch in the negotiations with the menomonees for the lands constituting the reservation, the removal did not become general until . meantime, a mission had sprung up among the western branch of the nation. in a young mohawk, who had been converted in canada, began the good work and established meetings. among the early missionaries the names of rev. mr. poe and rev. john clark are especially fragrant, but i have been unable to find satisfactory data until , when rev. henry r. colman was appointed to the mission. brother colman remained until , when he was succeeded by rev. c.g. lathrop. brother ford followed next, and remained until , when he was succeeded by brother requa. meantime, the old log church had given place to a respectable frame edifice. there was also a good frame parsonage, occupied by the missionary, and a school house, in which a school was kept either by the missionary or some one employed by him. the membership at this time numbered one hundred and twenty-five. the quarterly meeting was held on saturday and sabbath, as on the other charges. on saturday the quarterly conference was held, composed of the official members, but it was somewhat unique in its method of transacting its business. the conference was opened with singing and prayer. the next thing in order was an address from the elder, or "big missionary," as he is called. the address simply expressed the gratification of the elder with his visit, and the encouraging things he has heard of the good work of god among them, and then suggested such items of business as would require their attention. this done, i took my seat, for what more could i do. the business must now be done in a strange language, and in the method of the red man. after sitting in absolute silence for some minutes, the head chief of the nation, "big jake," as he is called, being one of the stewards, turned to a brother on his right and spoke a few words, and received a reply. then turning to another, he did the same, and thus continued to address each personally, until all had been consulted. at intervals there were long pauses, indicative, as i judged, of the gravity of the matter to be considered. at the end of an hour the council had completed its work. the chief then arose in a very dignified manner, but without ostentation, and, calling to his aid an interpreter, proceeded to reply to the opening address. he began his speech by expressing thanks, on behalf of himself and people, that the "big missionary" had come once more to see them. he next referred to the good work that had been performed by the missionary, and the special blessing of god upon his people. and in conclusion, he reported the items of business they had considered, and the action taken in each case. if anything further was desired at any time, it was always presented in a most respectful manner. in this case it was represented that they needed some repairs on the church, and a bell, and they desired that the missionary might be permitted to go abroad and raise the necessary funds. permission was granted, and the missionary, taking several fine singers of the nation with him, went to new york, boston, and other places, and secured the needed help. at the close of the public services came the hand shaking. the missionary understood the matter and detained me in the altar for a moment, commencing with the ladies and ending with the children, every person in the church came forward and shook hands with the elder. i was greatly pleased with "chief jake." he was a man of stalwart frame, standing with head and shoulders above the people around him. that giant frame supported a large head, adorned by an expressive face. his movement was dignified simply because he was a born nobleman, and did not know how to appear other than like a prince. he was benevolent and tender to all who were trying to do right, but he was a terror to evil-doers. standing for his people or the rights of the oppressed, he was absolutely invincible. brother requa entered the conference in , after having been employed one year as second preacher at waupun. he was appointed to brothertown in , to lowell in , and fond du lac in , here his health partially failed, and, in consequence, he was sent to oneida. from the first, brother requa attracted attention as a preacher. the first time i heard him was at the camp-meeting at sun prairie, in the summer of . he had only recently been converted, and was now called out to exhort at the close of a sermon. he had been known in the community as an infidel, which greatly increased the interest felt by all when he arose to speak. but the first utterance of his eloquent tongue, so full of feeling and so decided in its tone, disarmed all criticism. as he advanced, he threw off restraint, until he was master of himself and the congregation. once free, he seemed to lose sight of all but the condition of a perishing world. with lost men he reasoned, expostulated, entreated, until it seemed that the whole audience was moving towards the altar. while at oneida, as before stated, he went east to raise funds for the mission. wherever he went, he was recognized as a man of rare eloquence. throngs followed him from church to church, and, as might be expected, his mission was a great success. on his return with the bell, the people were overjoyed. for the first week after it was hung in the steeple, it was kept going, almost night and day. the friends came from every part of the reservation, and no one was satisfied until his own hand pulled the rope. and so high did the enthusiasm run that one man said, "as soon as we get able, we will put one on every house in oneida." after brother requa left oneida, he served one year as agent of lawrence university, and was specially engaged in raising an indian scholarship fund. his appointments subsequently were: janesville, fond du lac district, oshkosh, sheboygan falls, sheboygan, brandon and ripon. in march, , his second year at ripon, he went as a delegate of the christian commission to the army. his field of labor was little rock, ark. while here he was taken ill with the chronic diarrhoea, and on the th of may departed to his home above. during his illness, he was attended by his old friend, brother a. b. randall. just before he died, he requested his attendant to bear this message to his brethren of the wisconsin conference: "tell them that henry requa died at his post." he then added, "take my ashes back to be interred among my brethren. i have labored with them for twenty years past, trying to preach jesus. my present acceptance with god is a great comfort to me now. i am very unworthy, but i believe there are some in glory who call me father. in looking over my whole life i cannot see an act upon which i would risk the salvation of my soul; the best of them need washing in the blood of jesus. i know i have a home in glory. how precious jesus is. jesus, i love thee for what thou hast done for me. i will praise thee forever." brother requa was a man of ardent temperament, and at times impulsive, but he was a true man and a faithful minister. his attachments were strong and abiding. he loved the work in which he was engaged, and was very generally popular among the people. a born radical, he was liable to push matters beyond what more conservative minds deemed wise, and it is possible that in some instances his extreme methods defeated his purpose, but even then, no one questioned the rectitude of his heart. in the death of brother requa the conference sustained a severe loss. his remains were interred in college hill cemetery, at ripon. chapter xiv. fond du lac district continued.--appleton.--early history.--rev. c.g. lathrop--lawrence university.--incipient stages.--charter.--trustees. agent.--first board of instruction.--buildings.--faculty.--rev. dr. cooke.--rev. dr. cobleigh.--rev. dr. mason.--rev. dr. knox.--rev. dr. steele. leaving oneida, i next visited appleton, where i was kindly received by rev. c.g. lathrop, the pastor, and his good wife. though three years had scarcely passed since the echoes of the woodman's axe first rang through the forests of this locality, yet i found appleton to be a village of considerable pretensions. the location of lawrence university at this point, and the great promise of business, given by its almost unparalleled water-power, had already drawn together an enterprising community. good buildings had been erected, and the village was putting on an air of thrift. the first sermon preached in appleton, and probably in outagamie county, was delivered by rev. wm. h. sampson, oct. , , in a shanty occupied by brother john f. johnson and family. the first class was formed by rev. a. b. randall, the pastor of oshkosh circuit, whose charge included appleton, in february, . the first members were robert r. bateman, leader, robert s. bateman, mary bateman, amelia bateman, electa norton, theresa randall, l. l. randall, j.f. johnson and d.w. briggs. brother randall organized the first sunday school in march, , with robert r. bateman as superintendent. the meetings were held in private houses until the chapel of the institute was ready for use. they were held in the chapel thereafter until the first church was erected. in june, , the corner-stone of the church was laid by edwin atkinson, dr. edward cooke officiating. the lecture-room was occupied during the following winter, and the church was dedicated by dr. n.e. cobleigh in june, . the quarterly meeting, the first held in appleton, was convened in the institute chapel, sept , . the members of the quarterly conference present were c.g. lathrop, r.o. kellogg, jabez brooks, d.l. atwell, george e. havens, charles levings, john day, h.l. blood, a.c. darling, l.l. randall, d.c. weston, william rork, and j.f. johnson. the meeting was well attended, and the services indicated a healthy spiritual condition. rev. curtis g. lathrop entered the rock river conference in , and his first appointment was aztalan. before coming to appleton he had been stationed at lancaster, oneida indian mission, green lake and fall river. after leaving appleton his fields of labor have been green bay, oneida, indian mission, presiding elder of watertown district, menasha, neenah, waupaca, dartford, fox lake, vinland and randolph. he took a superannuated relation in , but during and he was able to serve as chaplain of the western seaman's friend society, at washington island. having removed to nebraska, he was made effective in and transferred to the nebraska conference. brother lathrop is a man of vigorous mental endowments. he is an able preacher, has a reliable judgment, and possesses a kind spirit. he hates shams and thoroughly detests the superficial. he never hangs out a flag to catch the popular breeze, and does not turn the prow of his craft down the stream. his convictions are strong, but curtis g. lathrop is the soul of integrity, and is most highly appreciated where best known. the lawrence university, located at appleton, deserves special notice, it being the first, and, at the present writing, the only school of the church within the bounds of the conference. in the spring of , rev. wm. h. sampson received a letter from h. eugene eastman, esq., of green bay, informing him that a gentleman in boston, mass., proposed to donate ten thousand dollars to found a school in the west. and as the gentleman entertained an exalted opinion of the adaptations of the methodist church to the work contemplated, he was authorized to give the proposition that direction. the conditions on which the trust must be accepted were, that the school should be located on the fox river between neenah and green bay, and that an additional ten thousand dollars should be contributed by other parties. brother sampson submitted the proposition to the conference, which met in august, and was instructed by that body to continue the correspondence, and, if possible, reduce the negotiations to a definite form. in december following, rev. reeder smith, who had been employed as agent of the school at albion, mich., came to fond du lac, bearing the proposition directly from hon. amos a. lawrence, the gentleman referred to. not finding brother sampson at home, he went down to brothertown and secured the co-operation of rev. h.r. colman in making an exploration of the fox river. they went to green bay, thence to kaukauna, and, accompanied by george w. law, esq., thence to grand chute, the present site of appleton. after looking over the grounds now constituting the campus of the university, they passed on to oshkosh, and thence to fond du lac. brother sampson had now returned, and it was decided to hold a meeting in milwaukee for consultation. the meeting was convened december th, , and was composed of the following members of the conference: wm. h. sampson, henry r. colman, washington wilcox, and wm. m.d. ryan. to these were added reeder smith, geo. e.h. day, and doubtless several others whose names i have not been able to learn. at this meeting a charter was drafted for the lawrence institute, and rev. reeder smith was sent to madison to lay it before the legislature. the charter received the signature of gov. dodge, jan. , , and the following gentlemen were constituted the first board of trustees: henry dodge, loyal h. jones, jacob l. bean, wm. h. sampson, n.p. talmadge, henry r. colman, h.s. baird, wm. dutcher, m. c. darling, m.l. martin, geo. e.h. day, d.c. vosburg, and reeder smith. the first meeting of the board was to have been held in fond du lac, june , , but as there was not a quorum present, the meeting was adjourned to sept. d. at this meeting the board was duly organized by the election of the following officers: hon. m.c. darling, president; hon. n.p. talmadge, first vice president; h.s. baird, esq., second vice president; rev. wm. h. sampson, secretary, and hon. morgan l. martin, treasurer. rev. reeder smith was appointed agent. geo. w. law, esq., and hon. john f. mead now offered a donation of thirty-one acres of land each, on condition that the institute should be located at grand chute. the offer was accepted, and the location was made, the name of the place being soon after changed to appleton. in due time the law tract was conveyed to the trustees, but, by some strange mismanagement, to say the least, on the part of the agent, the mead land was conveyed to another party, and it was lost to the institute. at the conference of , brother sampson was appointed principal, and was expected to serve as agent until the building to be erected was ready for occupancy. in pursuance of this arrangement he left fond du lac, sept. th, to enter upon his new field of operations. he took the steamer to neenah, and then obtained an indian "dug-out" for the balance of the journey. as the craft carried no sail, he was compelled to put her before the "white ash breeze" across lake butte des morts, and down the river to the point of destination, his craft being nearly swamped by a gale on the lake. on the th of september he began to cut a road to the grounds and clear the brush from the campus, thereby making the beginning of both the institute and the city of appleton. the lumber for the building of the preparatory department was purchased of hon. m.l. martin, and was delivered at duck creek. the timber was furnished by col. h.l. blood. through the indomitable energy of col. blood and the co-operation of the agents, the building, seventy by thirty feet in size, and three stories high, was ready to receive students on the th day of november, . the faculty with which the school opened were rev. wm. h. sampson, principal, rev. r.o. kellogg, professor of ancient languages, mr. james m. phinney, professor of mathematics, and miss emeline m. crooker, preceptress. the first catalogue, published in the fall of , showed a list of one hundred and five students, which was certainly a very creditable beginning. the name of the institute was now changed to lawrence university. a record of the early years of struggle and sacrifice necessary to found the university would fill a volume, and cannot be given at length in these pages. having been a member of the board for nearly a quarter of a century, i could say much of the noble men who performed double service on half pay, but such a recital cannot here be given. rev. dr. edward cooke was installed president of the university june , . at the same time the corner stone of the college building was laid by hon. m.c. darling, rev. alfred bronson, d.d., delivering the address. the edifice, a substantial stone structure, one hundred and twenty by sixty feet, and five stories high, was pushed forward to an early completion by the untiring energy of the agents, rev. j.s. prescott and col. h.l. blood. for college purposes the building ranked among the first in the west. in both students and faculty lawrence university has been fortunate from the beginning. as to the former, she has sent out not a few representative men to the several occupations of life, several of whom will find mention in these pages. as to the latter, she has enjoyed the labors of a class of instructors whose names have found an honorable place in both the clerical and literary circles of the commonwealth. of rev. wm. h. sampson, the first head of the faculty, a record has been made in a former chapter, and it would afford me pleasure to refer at length to the several members of the first faculty, as also to all the professors who have followed, but i find it will be impossible to do so in these brief pages. rev. edward cooke, d.d., the first president, entered the new jersey conference in . he was a graduate of the wesleyan university, middletown, conn. his first appointment was principal of the pennington male seminary, n.j. in he was transferred to the new england conference, and stationed at saugus. his subsequent appointments were union church charlestown, d. street, centenary, and hanover, of boston, mass. he was transferred to the wisconsin conference in , having been elected president of the university. as a president he was very popular, and during his administration of six years had the satisfaction to see the institution rise from a feeble preparatory school to a full-fledged university. in addition to the ordinary duties of his position, he was largely concerned with the financial matters of the enterprise, but in every portion of the work dr. cooke showed great wisdom, tact and devotion. and during his term he laid the friends of education in the state under lasting obligations. after leaving the university, he was stationed at summerfield church, milwaukee, but, returning to boston at the close of his term, he was elected principal of the wesleyan academy, wilbraham, mass., where he has enjoyed great success in his administration. dr. cooke is a man of fine presence, and a good preacher. genial in spirit, full of anecdote and well read, he is very companionable. he has a multitude of friends in wisconsin. rev. nelson e. cobleigh, d.d., was elected professor in . he was also a graduate of the wesleyan university. on coming west, he was first elected professor in the mckendree college, ill., from which position he came to appleton. his first visit to these "northern wilds," as appleton was then called, was a memorable one. it was a commencement occasion, and in connection with the other exercises, the annual missionary meeting was held. under the leadership of dr. cooke, brother cobleigh was appointed to deliver one of the addresses. there were three speakers appointed as usual, and the second place was assigned to dr. cobleigh and the last to dr. cooke. the first speech, brief and to the point, was made, and as chairman i introduced dr. cobleigh. the speech opened in a quiet, clear, and common-sense way, none expecting more than a good, average effort. but before the speaker had proceeded far, his sentences began to grow intense, and the blood began to shoot upward in deep, livid lines along the neck and face, and wreathe his forehead. all eyes were turned upon him, and each hearer began to feel the kindlings of a strange inspiration. but the speaker was lost to everything except his theme. he dashed on from one burning thought to another, carrying his audience with him, in such storms of eloquence as had never before enchanted the walls of the university chapel. at the expiration of a full hour, the great orator came to himself and resumed his seat, amid the shouts of the people. as soon as quiet intervened, i introduced dr. cooke. the doctor came forward and stated that as the speakers had been limited to thirty minutes each, and as his good friend, dr. cobleigh, had used an hour, without any fault of his own, however, as he could not help it, he would not attempt to make a speech himself, but would adopt the last half of the last speech, which was infinitely better than he could do if he were to speak. the fine turn of the doctor was taken with a good zest. after serving the university several years, dr. cobleigh went back to mckendree college as president. he next served as editor of zion's herald, in boston, then was president of our college in tennessee, and at the last general conference he was elected editor of the advocate at atlanta, ga. but his work was soon finished, and he passed on to join the great and good who have entered the heavenly gates. dr. r.z. mason came to the university as a professor in , and continued to hold this position until the resignation of dr. cooke, when he succeeded to the presidency. he remained at this post until the election of dr. steele, when he entered upon business pursuits in appleton. the presidency of dr. mason was distinguished by great anxiety and severe labor. like the presidents who went before, and those who have followed, he was greatly burdened with the financial management. the several schemes which had been adopted to secure an endowment fund for the university, had not fully met expectations, and in consequence, an indebtedness had been incurred. to lift this incumbrance became the special concern of president mason. he traveled over the state, visiting the charges in person, and taking subscriptions wherever they could be obtained. and i am happy to say that through his great ability in this direction, and his unbounded persistence, the work was carried forward to a grand success. rev. loren l. knox, d.d., was another member of the faculty. brother knox had also given the greater portion of his life to educational work. his successful administration of the interests of leading institutions of learning in the east had fully prepared the board to expect in him a valuable accession to the faculty, and they were not disappointed. he was found to be a thorough scholar, a wise and careful instructor, and a christian gentleman of the highest and purest style. after leaving the university, dr. knox did good service in the pulpit for several years, but, finally, his health so far failed that he was compelled to take a superannuated relation. at the present writing he is residing at evanston, where he is giving such attention to literary work as he finds himself able to perform. rev. geo. m. steele, d.d., the president of the university at this present time, is a man of fine literary attainments, an able administrator, a superior preacher, and a writer of pronounced reputation. he is also a graduate of middletown, and has had considerable experience as an instructor. he was elected president of the university in , and has more than met the highest expectations of the board. in addition to his duties at the head of the faculty, he has given his personal attention largely to the financial interests of the institution. in this particular he has achieved a grand work, both in managing the current expenditures, and in increasing the endowment fund. the doctor is a great acquisition to the university, and is highly esteemed by his brethren. the conference have delighted to honor him in all appropriate ways, and especially in sending him to both general conferences which have occurred since he became a member of the body. having thus paid our respects to appleton and the university, we are prepared to pass on to other fields. to complete the round there were two charges yet to visit, but as these will claim our attention hereafter i need not refer to them now, except to give an incident that transpired at the quarterly meeting held on one of them. the meeting was held in a school house. the new schoolteacher, a nice youngster, concluded to lead the singing. gathering a few young people around him, and displaying a tuning-fork, he was ready for the services to begin. i gave the hymn commencing, "come, holy spirit, heavenly dove." when i had finished the reading, the chorister arose with superlative dignity, and gave the key. unfortunately, the choir dropped a tone or two too low, and the first verse was sung at that disadvantage. discovering the blunder, the key was again given, but the singers were now getting nervous, and instead of rising, they went still lower, as they sang, "look how we grovel here below." certainly the chariot wheels of pharaoh did not roll more heavily than the numbers from that orchestra. i remembered old balerma, and felt deeply for them. but our young knight of the tuning-fork was not to be vanquished. with a dash he brought the fork down upon the desk, and gave the key again. but alas! for all human expectations! the choir dropped down to a dead monotone, as they went on with the next verse: "in vain we tune our formal songs, in vain we strive to rise; hosannas languish on our tongues, and our devotion dies." both the choir and congregation felt a relief when the minister said, "let us pray." having completed the first round of the district, i returned to fond du lac to begin the second. but it is not my purpose to give the details of each round or year, as the labors of a presiding elder are too monotonous to furnish a record that would be entertaining to the general reader. chapter xv. fond du lac district continued.--baraboo conference.--lodi camp meeting.--fall river.--revival at appleton.--rev. elmore yocum.--revival at sheboygan falls.--revival at fond du lac.--rev. e.s. grumley.--revival at sheboygan.--rev. n.j. aplin.--camp-meeting at greenbush.--rev. a.m. hulce.--results of the year.--janesville conference.--omro. rev. dr. golden.--the cowhams.--quarterly meeting.--my father's death.--close of the term. the conference of was held at fond du lac, sept. st, and was presided over by bishop ames. this was the first conference held by the good bishop after his election to his high office. the visit was also the first the good people of northern wisconsin had enjoyed from a bishop of the church. both parties appeared delighted with the acquaintance. on the sabbath preceding the session of the conference, the new church in the upper town was dedicated by the bishop, the preachers of the conference generally being in attendance. at this conference i performed my first labor in the cabinet. i felt the responsibility to be one of great gravity, but sought to bear it in the fear of god. in fact, the adjustment of the appointments had been the subject of careful thought and earnest prayer during the last three months of the year. from the first i felt that the adjustment of the ministers and their work required the nicest discrimination and the most absolute self-abnegation. resolving to discharge my duty fearlessly, and yet fully in the spirit of the golden rule, i entered upon the responsibility. whether i succeeded or not, is a matter i have referred to the day when "the books" shall be opened. there were but few changes made in the appointments in the district, as i then cherished, as i have since, the conviction that changes, other than by limitation, should only be made for grave reasons. fond du lac was divided into two charges, rev. m. himebaugh, of whom a record has been made, being sent to the north ward, and rev. ezra tucker to the south ward. the year in both charges was generally prosperous. brother tucker was a new man in the work, and entered upon his labors with great zeal. having the new church, and the inspiration usually experienced in such cases, he was encouraged with an extraordinary promise of success, but before the expiration of the year he fell sick, and was compelled to suspend his labors. after resting two years he was again able to resume work. he filled several appointments thereafter in the wisconsin conference, and then removed to minnesota, where, on both stations and districts, he has rendered effective service. rev. jabez brooks was appointed to oshkosh, but as he was still needed in the professorship he had formerly held in the lawrence university, i changed his appointment. brother brooks subsequently filled out the balance of brother tucker's year at fond du lac, and was then stationed at jackson street, milwaukee. he was subsequently made president of the hamline university, and at the present writing is professor in the state university of minnesota. dr. brooks, for such is his present title, is a prime man in every respect. scholarly, logical, clear-headed, kind-hearted and diligent, he is a general favorite, wherever known. during this year a camp-meeting was held on the district. the ground selected was father bower's grove, on the east shore of lake butte des morts, six miles above oshkosh. the meeting was held june th, . the attendance was good, there being ten tents on the ground, and there were fifty conversions. the year closed pleasantly, and on my way to the conference, to be held at baraboo, aug. st, i attended a camp-meeting at lodi. the meeting had been appointed with a view to intercept the bishop and the preachers on their way to the conference. the attendance was large and the meeting spirited. bishop scott came early in the week, and before friday night there were not less than sixty-five preachers in attendance. after preaching twice, the bishop left on saturday, as he was to dedicate the new church in baraboo on the sabbath. as it was desirable also for the presiding elder to go forward with the bishop, i was requested to remain and take charge of the camp-meeting until monday. i consented on condition that the bishop would take the clergy with him to the dedication. i selected a few men from the fond du lac district, and a few others from the vicinity of the meeting to remain with me, and the balance mostly went with the bishop. the change in the state of affairs, as i anticipated, was felt immediately. the laity, who must always form the basis of a successful meeting, now came forward and took hold of the work. on saturday night the spirit fell on the people in great power. before the conclusion of the sermon it was manifest that there would be, to change the reference, an abundance of rain. in the prayer meeting which followed, not less than thirty souls were converted. on sabbath the meeting went forward with great spirit. but the climax was not reached until sabbath evening, when, at the close of a sermon by brother himebaugh, the whole audience seemed to respond to the invitations of the gospel. the altar was thronged and the adjacent seats were filled far back into the congregation. it was impossible to tell how many were forward as seekers, or how many were converted, but those immediately engaged in the work, expressed the belief that not less than one hundred persons passed into the kingdom of grace. the meeting had now received such momentum that it was impossible to close it on monday. it was put in charge of brethren who were not immediately needed at the conference, and was continued nearly the entire week. on this trip to the conference, i was permitted to enjoy the companionship of rev. n.j. aplin, who rendered signal service in the meeting on the sabbath. the conference at baraboo was one of unusual interest. the greetings of the preachers were cordial, as they always are where persons make sacrifices and put forth labor in a common cause. it was the first visit of bishop scott to the conference, and his urbanity and self-sacrificing labors endeared him to all. the business of the conference was done in the spirit of the master, but an unhappy trial made the session a very protracted one. this being the second year of my presiding eldership, the disciplinary limit required several removals, but i need not give them in detail, as they can be ascertained, if desirable, by consulting the minutes. on our return from the conference we reached fall river on saturday evening, and remained there over the sabbath. on arriving at the forks of the roads on the crown of the prairie, the several preachers who were in company halted for a proper distribution among the good people. rev. a.p. allen, the inimitable joker, who had served as pastor on the charge, installed himself master of ceremonies, and proceeded to divide up the company. after assigning the balance to their respective quarters, he said, "now, i guess the young presiding elder and the old pastor had better go to aunt martha's, as that is the place where they do up the chicken-fixings scientifically." we were delightfully entertained by rev. e.j. smith and family, with whom, it will be remembered, i became acquainted in . on sabbath morning, accompanied by brother and sister smith and their daughters, now mrs. pedrick and mrs. coe, of ripon, we attended religious services at the school house in fall river, where the serving fell to the lot of the writer. at the beginning of the new year, special attention was given to the finances in the several charges. and during the first round the work was planned for the winter campaign. fixing on the localities where i could render special assistance to the pastors, it was arranged to commence the services with the quarterly meetings, and if the work should require more than the following week, i could return after the succeeding quarterly meeting had been held. the first meeting was held at appleton, rev. elmore yocum being the pastor. this noble man, one of the excellent of the earth, came to the conference in by transfer from the north ohio conference, and was appointed presiding elder of the platteville district. at the close of his term, he was stationed at appleton, where his family could enjoy special educational advantages. at the end of two years he was made presiding elder of the appleton district, and at the close of his term went to the west wisconsin conference, as he had become identified with the educational institution at point bluff. both as pastor and presiding elder brother yocum was deservedly popular. the meeting at appleton awakened intense interest. the good work grew upon our hands from day to day, until the business of the village was largely suspended during the hours of religious service. all classes fell under the good influence, and both students and citizens shared in the result. one hundred and thirty souls were converted. the next meeting was held at sheboygan falls. as i drove into the village, the severest storm of the winter was raging, and by sabbath morning the snow was two feet in depth. during the following night the winds piled it into drifts that made the roads nearly impassable. what was to be done? the prospect certainly looked dubious. but it occurred to me that a little preparation for the meeting would be of service, and this could now be done before the crowd should rush in upon us. we decided to go on. illustrating the saying, "where there's a will there's a way," the good people opened the streets in the village, and a small congregation was brought together. the spirit of god came down in sweet, melting influences, and, under the divine inspiration, the faith of the church grew strong. before the end of the week the place was filled, and souls were being converted. the pastor was rev. r.w. barnes. and as soon as the meeting was well established, the pastors of the other churches, rev. mr. marsh, of the congregational, and rev. mr. lull, of the baptist, came in with their people. they were received cordially, and set at work as opportunity offered. besides these, several of our own laymen gave themselves almost wholly to the work. among these, rev. l. cheeseman, a local preacher, and e.t. bond, esq., a merchant, deserve special mention. too much cannot be said in praise of these lay workers and the church generally. with their pastor, they were instant in season and out of season. after the regular labor of the evening was concluded, it was no uncommon thing for them to organize a second meeting for such of the seekers as had not obtained a satisfactory evidence of conversion. here, in prayer and christian conference, they would labor until midnight, and in some instances until the dawn of day. the shout of victory usually signalled the close of the meeting. a more thorough work than this i never witnessed. i left the meeting twice before its close to attend to my work elsewhere, and was brought back by a messenger. during the meeting one hundred and fifty souls professed conversion, and among them were both men and women, who have since shown themselves to be valiant soldiers for prince immanuel. the next meeting was held in the south ward charge, fond du lac. the pastor, rev. e.s. grumley, who had been appointed to the charge at the recent conference, entered the north ohio conference in . he had been stationed at lower sandusky, bucyrus, ashland, shanesville, ohio city, tiffin, sandusky city and norwalk. since his transfer to the conference in , he had been two years at council hill. after filling his term in fond du lac he was, for a full term, presiding elder on racine district. after leaving the district he continued to hold respectable appointments until , when his health failed and he was compelled to take a superannuated relation. brother grumley was a man of small frame and apparently of feeble health, yet he was able to do effective work to the last. he had a sound head, and a heart equally sound. he was a good preacher, and a superior pastor. revivals usually attended his labors, and he was always highly esteemed by the people. the meeting at fond du lac immediately followed the one at sheboygan falls. with my family i left the latter place in time to reach fond du lac at noon on saturday. but through detention i was just driving into the city as the bell was ringing for the service. hastily caring for my horse, i went immediately to the church. before the services were concluded, i saw evident assurances that the pastor had been making careful preparation for the work before us. the opening sermon was addressed to the church, and found a ready and hearty response. before the quarterly meeting had passed, it was manifest that a glorious revival was impending. seekers of religion came to the altar and found a prepared church to lead them to christ. the meeting went on from night to night, and before the end of the week, each night brought scores of seekers. the good pastor was now at home. in prayer, in exhortation, and in labor at the side of the seeker, he was a tower of strength. among the laity there were also several excellent laborers, who rendered valuable services in the meeting. the revival reached all classes, from youth to old age, and gave to the church many reliable accessions. at the beginning, sister churches joined largely in the meeting, but as the work extended among their people, they opened meetings at their own places of worship. the change, however, did not check the revival. it swept on through the community, and all the churches shared in the harvest of souls. during this year sheboygan was also favored with a revival. rev. n.j. aplin, the pastor, came to wisconsin during the previous year. he came from western new york, where he had been engaged in business, bringing a note of introduction from rev. moses miller, my uncle, who had been for several years his neighbor. i employed him at once, for the balance of the year, at charlestown, a new charge that i had just formed. he was admitted on trial at the ensuing conference, and appointed to sheboygan. after leaving sheboygan, brother aplin's appointments have been: manitowoc, waukesha, brookfield, watertown, beaver dam, oconomowoc, berlin, geneva, sun prairie, sharon, and clemensville. at the last named place, he is still rendering the cause effective service. brother aplin has been a successful man, and has seen, at various times, extensive revivals under his labors. he is a man who "seeks not his own but the things of christ." at sheboygan he was assisted in his meeting by fay h. purdy, esq., of palmyra, n.y., with whom he had enjoyed an acquaintance in the east. brother purdy had already become distinguished as the "lawyer evangelist." under the united labors of these devoted and earnest men, there was a great quickening in the church, and though the population of the town was largely german, there was an accession to the church of forty members. it was during this conference year the celebrated greenbush camp meeting was held. the meeting was held in june, . the people came in great numbers, and many of them were fresh from their revivals at home. on invitation, brother purdy came to the meeting and brought with him, from western new york, rev. amos hard, seth h. woodruff, esq., and several others. the meeting was one of great power. large numbers of professing christians entered into a new consecration to god, and many souls professed conversion. throughout the week, the meetings continued to increase in spiritual interest, but culminated in the services of sunday night. after the close of the sermon, seekers were invited to the altar. then followed prayers, singing, and christian testimony without intermission, until the morning light broke upon the encampment. the prayers of the penitent and the shouts of the saved greeted every hour of the night. the voices of prayer and song did not cease until the meeting was closed on monday. nor did the formal closing of the services in the grove close the meeting. it was now adjourned to the school house in the village, where the services were continued with unflagging interest. but there now came an interchange of labor. whenever it was necessary to look after domestic affairs, the meeting was left in the hands of others, and on returning its duties were again resumed. thus by these changes there was no cessation of the meeting throughout monday, monday night, and a portion of the following day. this meeting is still referred to with great interest by those who were permitted to participate in its thrilling exercises. the pastor of greenbush at this time was rev. a.m. hulce. he was a young man in the work, having been received into the conference at its last session. both himself and good lady were fully engaged in the work, and greatly assisted in perfecting the arrangements for the meeting. brother hulce was a well-read man, a good thinker, and earnestly devoted to his work, but his health was not equal to the toil and exposures of the itinerancy. after laboring a few years he was compelled to retire to the local ranks, in which position he still holds an honorable place. other charges than those mentioned also shared in the revivals of the year, giving a net result for the district of nearly one thousand conversions. my labors throughout the year were severe, making an average of nearly seven sermons per week. the conference for was held at janesville, and i was returned to the district for a fourth year. several changes of ministers were made, several new fields were opened, and six new men were brought into the district. omro was one of the charges to claim my attention at the beginning of this year. it had now assumed considerable importance, it being the home of the brother cowhams. james m., the elder, was the recording steward, ranking among the most efficient i have ever known, and john m., the younger, was a leading spirit in all church work, becoming subsequently a local preacher of most excellent standing. the pastor of the charge was rev. t.c. golden, who entered the conference in , and had been stationed at cascade and sheboygan falls. he was a man of mark. of a vigorous mental development and logical cast, he early became an able preacher and commanded a leading place in the conference. after leaving omro, he was stationed in fond du lac. he was then transferred to the west wisconsin conference, and stationed at la crosse, after which he served several years as presiding elder with great acceptability. at the present writing he is a presiding elder in the upper iowa conference. dr. golden, for such is his present title, has made a most gratifying record. a quarterly meeting held at brother john m. cowham's during this year, is remembered with great pleasure. this dear brother had built both a house and a barn of large dimensions, and the meeting, to be held in the latter, awakened general interest throughout the circuit, bringing together a multitude of people. every house in the neighborhood was filled with guests, and the balance, not less than fifty in number, were entertained at what was called the cowham mansion. but great as was the outpouring of the people, the manifestations of the spirit were still more extraordinary. under the preaching of the word, the holy ghost fell on the people. the shout of redeemed souls and the cry of penitents, "what shall i do to be saved?" commingled strangely together. and yet, out of the apparent discord, there came the sweetest harmony. the minor strains were lost in the rapturous paeans of the major movement, as each seeking soul received "the new song." the days of the fathers seemed to have returned to the church, when, under the pentecostal baptism, believers fell to the floor, and multitudes were saved in a day. it was during this year that i was called to experience a severe trial in the death of my dear father, which occurred on the th day of may, . after remaining at waupun six years, he removed, in , to waupaca, where he purchased the lands comprising the site of the present village, laid out the town and erected a lumber mill. soon after his arrival he opened religious services, preaching the first sermon and organizing the first class. in due time, others came to his assistance, and a small church was built. waupaca having been taken into the regular work, my father now visited the adjacent neighborhoods and established religious meetings, preaching usually two or three times on the sabbath. not a few of these early appointments ultimately became the nucleus of independent charges. my father's illness was brief. in the latter part of the winter he met me at my quarterly meeting at oshkosh, but, to the regret of the people, he was unable to preach. he felt that his work was nearly done, and in referring to the matter, said: "i have no occasion to feel anxious about it, since, through divine help, i have been permitted to preach, on an average, about two sermons a week for thirty years." i visited him two weeks before his death, and found his mind tranquil and his faith unwavering. when i enquired as to his state of mind, he said, "it is like a sunbeam of glory." he continued in the same satisfactory frame, until he passed over the river to join the white-robed throng in the heavenly realm. the multitudes who gathered with tearful eyes around his grave, gave but a fitting expression of their high appreciation of a noble life. the labors of my first term as presiding elder were now drawing to a close. though my labors had been arduous, yet such had been the kindness and co-operation of both preachers and people, i felt an interest in them. during the four years the district had nearly doubled its strength, and was now ready for a division. feeling that it was due to myself, being so young a man, and due to the church also, that i should now go back to station work, i favored at the conference a resolution asking the bishop to appoint no man to a district for a second term until there had been an intervening service of two years on circuits or stations. the action of the conference doubtless, sent me to a station instead of a district. chapter xvi. conference of .--the new departure.--mission committee.--the slavery controversy.--triumph of freedom.--wisconsin conference rule. conference report.--election of delegates.--appointed to racine.--detention.--the removal to the new charge.--stage, dray, and steamboat.--new bus line. the conference for was held at racine on the th day of august, and was presided over by bishop janes. during the session i was quartered with rev. moses adams, a superannuated member of the black river conference. the business of the conference was transacted with the usual dispatch, and there were only two items which engrossed unusual attention. these were the distribution of the missionary appropriations and the election of delegates to the general conference. as to the first, a new departure was made in the organization of the committee on missions. the presiding elders of the conference had been hitherto appointed on this committee. but now a few restless spirits, who fancied that, as seen from their limited opportunities to judge correctly, the appropriations had not been judiciously made during the past few years, determined to appoint this committee from among the pastors. the elders, well knowing that the farcical proceeding would in time come to naught, concluded to offer no opposition to the movement. the committee was accordingly appointed and proceeded to the discharge of its duties. at the first meeting, however, it was found that the committee was unable to proceed for want of information. at the next meeting, to remedy this difficulty, the brethren who had occupied mission fields the previous year were invited to be present. this measure was found to afford only a partial relief, as these brethren knew nothing of the border territory that ought now to be organized into new fields. the next move was to ask all the pastors to meet the committee at the next session. to afford room to accommodate the committee and its invited guests, the audience room of the church was appropriated for an entire afternoon. here the great work of the committee was entered upon in right good earnest, with the special champions of the movement as managers of the exhibition. but now, alas! for the success of the meeting, there was too much light. at once a large number of fields that had been supposed to be self-supporting was brought forward, and their respective representatives were so successful in setting forth their feeble and helpless condition, that many of them were entered upon the list by the committee as missions. the question as to the number of missions having been settled, the next thing in order was the amount of money that should be given to each. from the information already received, the amounts were jotted down briskly until the entire list had been gone over. the footings were now made, and to the committee the result was appalling. they had appropriated three times the amount of money at their disposal. then came the rub, which had been so often experienced by the presiding elders. the missions must be cut down in two ways. first, all that could possibly manage to get through the year without aid must be struck off the list, and then such as remain will need to be cut down to the lowest possible figure. but still brave, our committee would not see their impending defeat, and proceeded at once to the labor of cutting down. one of the champions had been a surgeon in his time, and had cut human flesh with becoming recklessness, but now he, as well as the entire committee, struck a new experience. to strike missions off the list, and cut down the appropriations to others, is comparatively an easy task in the quiet and secluded confines of a committee room, but to do either in the presence of the very men who expected to occupy those fields the coming year, and who knew the poverty of the people, was quite another thing. the flood-gates of speech-making had been opened by the committee, and it was now impossible to close them. the balance of the afternoon was given to stormy debate, and into what disorder the meeting might have drifted, if the coming evening had not made its appearance, it is impossible to conjecture. the next day the committee took another new departure, and invited the presiding elders, who had studied these matters and looked the ground carefully over for a whole year, before them. the committee were now able to complete their labors and make such a report as had usually been presented to the conference. but the conference became fully satisfied that this experiment needed no duplicate, and, for years after, the mention of the "committee of the whole on missions," did not fail to excite mirth. early in the session, the election of delegates to the general conference occurred. as i was too young to be thought of in that connection, i was permitted to sit quietly and take notes. the only issue of any great importance in the election was the slavery question. and as this institution had already been put in issue in the general elections of the country, it could not well be left out on this occasion. so it was made the chief subject of discussion. to be a thorough-going anti-slavery man was the stubborn test of qualifications for a delegate. and that there might be no mistake on this point, it was deemed advisable to have an able committee present to the body as a platform a report that should make the absolute prohibition of slavery its chief plank. but before i make further reference to the report it will not be amiss to refer briefly to the subject of slavery in its relations to the church. at the organization of the church in this country, and for years thereafter, the testimony she gave against american slavery was distinct and unequivocal. both the ministers and people were agreed that the institution was, as mr. wesley was pleased to call it, "the sum of all villanies." agreeing in this, they further believed that, as a relic of barbarism, it would soon pass away. under this conviction they hardly deemed it necessary to enter up any very stringent enactments against it, save that it might be well as a temporary arrangement to provide that there should be no traffic in slaves. under such a regulation matters passed on for a term of years. but in due time it was found that the tendency of events was not altogether satisfactory. at the outset, the church had been planted in the central portion of the atlantic states, and had then grown rapidly southward, giving the balance of power to the conferences where slavery existed. at this juncture, also, by a remarkable change in the commercial affairs of the country, the cotton crop of the south began to find an increasing demand and appreciate in value, thereby giving an increased value to slave labor. with this change came at once the multiplication of slaves and large returns. to own slaves and cultivate cotton now became the ruling inspiration of the people. at the first the church stoutly opposed the insetting tide, but as the waves of commercial life grew strong and swept around her, the power of resistance grew more feeble from year to year, until finally some of her own people began to plead extenuation and even tolerance. the conflict was now open, and the result seemed questionable. with the conscience of the southern portion of the church asleep or dormant, the anti-slavery side of the issue came finally to depend upon the church in the north for statement and defence. at this stage of the conflict the controversy became sectional, the south upholding and the north seeking to remove the evil. thus the contest raged for years, until the south, growing strong on her ill-gotten gains, and arrogant from her success with the supple-kneed politicians of the north, put the church in the north upon the defensive by demanding toleration, if not actual adoption. the issue was made in trying to foist upon the whole church a slave holding episcopacy. this last act was the feather, if such it might be called, that broke the camel's back. the effort was thwarted by the north only through the timely aid of a few of the central conferences. at this the south took offence, as is well known, and seceded, carrying with them more than half a million of members and a portion of the church property. to secure the latter, it is true, long and bitter litigations followed the separation. and it is generally accepted in the north that the decision which gave it to the south took its shape from the political complexion at the time of the supreme court of the united states. it was now thought that the question of slavery was put to rest. but alas! for human foresight. it still remained that the general rules, which permitted members to hold slaves, provided they did not "buy or sell," had not been changed. and it was soon found that the awakened conscience of the north could not rest until the last vestige of the nefarious institution was swept from the church. agitations, therefore, followed, and each succeeding general conference found this question to be still the troubler of israel. nor was the question left alone to the care of the general conference. each annual conference was also agitated by it. but it was evident to all that a serious embarrassment must be overcome to secure a change of the general rules. the constitution of the church has a provision which, to effect a change, requires a two-thirds vote in the general conference, and a three-fourths vote in all the annual conferences. to obtain the requisite vote with these provisions, it will be seen, can only be realized on such questions as can command great unanimity of sentiment. if the entire south had gone off in the separation, the trouble would have been at an end, but, as we have seen, the border conferences remained with their brethren of the north, and aided them in fighting the first battle with the slave power. but now, when the question of a change of rule was brought forward, they took the other side, and in doing so were able to furnish enough votes to defeat the proposed measure. and the question, which was now agitating the annual conference, was the framing of such a rule as would meet the approval of the great body of the church, and pass it along the line of the conferences to secure their favorable consideration before taking it to the general conference. at the preceding session of the wisconsin conference such a rule had been framed and sent on its way to the several conferences to obtain their approval. this was called the "wisconsin conference rule," and read as follows: "the buying, selling, or holding of a human being as a slave." this rule received very general favor among the northern conferences, but was rejected of course by those lying along the border. at the conference now in session in racine, as before stated, a report was submitted touching this matter. and it was intended to so set forth the sentiment of the conference as to make it a test of eligibility in the election. i subjoin an extract from the resolutions adopted: "<i>resolved,</i> that we contemplate with feelings of deep humility and sorrow before god, that the m. e. church has any connection with the system of american slavery, and that we will not cease our efforts for extirpation until the last ligament is severed." "<i>resolved,</i> that we record with gratitude, the favor with which the 'new rule,' proposed by our conference at its last session, has met in so many of the conferences in which it has been acted upon, and we believe that the principle involved in it is the standard at which the church should and will soon arrive." "<i>resolved,</i> that whether or not the next general conference adopt it as a substitute for our present general rule on slavery, we earnestly request that body to so modify the chapter on slavery as to prevent the admission of any slaveholder into the m. e. church, and secure the exclusion of all who are now members, if they will not, after due labor, emancipate their slaves." this report was adopted with remarkable unanimity, but when the vote was taken for delegates, it so happened that at least two of the men who had been most clamorous in its support, failed to secure an election. this result, however, did not come from a real difference in sentiment on the main question, but from a desire to send to the general conference a delegation that would not defeat the desired end by a manifestation of zeal without prudence. the chairman of the committee, however, was elected to lead the delegation. the delegates were p. s. bennett, i. m. leihy, edward cooke, elmore yocum and chauncey hobart. during the session of the conference, a meeting of the principal members of the church and congregation at racine was held, to take into consideration the condition and wants of the charge. the deliberation had resulted in laying before the presiding bishop a request for the appointment of the writer. the appointment was accordingly made. but a removal to the charge was attended with no little difficulty. during the latter part of the spring term of the lawrence university, the typhoid fever appeared among the students, and in several instances proved fatal. to prevent the like result in other cases, the inhabitants opened their doors to receive sick students who could not be suitably cared for in the dormitories of the college. four of these were taken by mrs. miller, and, in every case, it was believed that their lives were only saved through her kind intervention and care. this kindness to others, however, proved disastrous to her and the family. before her charge was well off her hands, she was herself attacked by the same malignant disease. then followed weeks of suffering on her part, and not a little interruption of my work as presiding elder, especially unfortunate in the closing part of the year. she passed down to the borders of the grave, and on two occasions the beating of the pulse seemed to cease, but in the good providence of god she was spared. her return to health, however, was slow, and meantime her sister, now mrs. gov. c. k. davis, of minnesota, who resided with us at the time, was taken with the same disease. this latter case was also a severe one, and for several weeks delayed our removal to the new charge. but as soon as it would do to attempt the journey, we were on our way. unable to walk, i was obliged to carry the invalid from the house to the carriage, and from the carriage at menasha to the steamboat. we reached fond du lac in the evening and tarried for the night. the following morning we took the stage for sheboygan. the roads were excellent and the coach comfortable, but it was necessary to carry the invalid literally in my arms the entire distance. on arriving at the shore end of the pier at sheboygan, the steamboat, at the other end, gave a signal for her departure. hastily leaving the coach and sending the family forward with all possible dispatch, i chartered a common dray, the only conveyance at hand, placed a trunk upon it, took the invalid in my arms, seated myself on the trunk, and bade the driver to put his horse on his best speed. the race was a most creditable one, and before the boat had time to get under way, we were nicely on board, to the great merriment of all concerned. but out of one trouble, we were soon into another. we had hardly reached the open lake before the boat encountered a heavy sea, which brought sea-sickness to all of the company for the balance of the journey. but in this misfortune we were not alone. rev. e. s. grumley, the newly appointed presiding elder of the racine district, and his family, had also come on board at sheboygan, and were now our companions in travel, as also in misery. tossing amid the waves, the progress of the steamboat was slow, and we did not reach racine until after midnight. we were happy to gain a landing, but we found ourselves without a conveyance to the hotel. not even the common dray was at hand. but, nothing daunted, we groped amid the darkness until we came upon the buggy of the presiding elder, which fortunately had been landed from the same boat. the invalid was soon placed in it, and, adopting a style of travel that might have seemed unusual by daylight, in due time we were at the hotel. the following morning we were sought out by the good people and kindly cared for, being assigned to quarters with my late host and his obliging family. chapter xvii. racine.--its early history.--subsequent growth.--racine district.--rev. dr. hobart.--kenosha.--rev. salmon stebbins.--sylvania.--the kelloggs.--walworth circuit.--burlington and rochester.--lyons. troy circuit.--first class at troy.--eagle.--round prairie.--hart prairie.--delavan.--elkhorn.--pastorate at racine.--revival.--church enlargement.--second year.--precious memories. the great centers from which the church in wisconsin has radiated were few in number and were fixed upon at an early period in the development of the work. these centers were green bay, sheboygan, fond du lac, aztalan, racine, and janesville. of the first five a record has been made, and, following the line of my labors, racine should next engage my attention. at this place the first settlement was made in november, , by captain gilbert knapp, who came on horseback from chicago. on the second day of january following, stephen campbell, paul kingston, and messrs. newton and fay arrived, and, as far as i am able to ascertain, were the first methodists who settled at racine. at the same time william see and edmund weed came to the vicinity, the former settling at the rapids, where he built a mill, and the latter making a claim on the lands which have since become the homestead of senator fratt. alanson filer came in november, , and a.g. knight in april, . in his journey to wisconsin, brother knight traveled on horseback from wayne county, n.y., to chicago, and on foot the balance of the way. jonathan m. snow and nathan joy came soon after, the latter coming around the lakes in the first three-master that visited lake michigan. rev. daniel slauson and william bull came in september, , traveling in their own conveyance from detroit. the list of names thus given does not make a full record of the early arrivals, but furnishes, as far as i am informed, such as constituted, with the exception of the first named, the first methodist community. the writer has been unable to ascertain where and by whom the first class was formed, or who constituted the first members. but it is probable that the place was included in milwaukee mission as early as , and that the class was formed by rev. mark robinson during that year, or by his successor, rev. wm. s. crissey, the year following. and it is also probable that the gentlemen above named, who were there at the time, and their families, constituted the first members, with brother paul kingston as leader. the meetings were held in the log residence of the last named, located near the lake, at the foot of seventh street. racine mission was formed in and rev. otis f. curtis was the first pastor. the mission, reaching from the illinois state line to milwaukee, included appointments at racine, southport, pleasant prairie, kellogg's corners, ives grove, caledonia and root river. in the charge took the name of racine and southport mission, the pastor being rev. salmon stebbins. in southport was made a separate charge, and the pastor at racine was rev. l.f. moulthrop. in the root river portion was set off and made a separate charge, and racine was left to be supplied. the following year the sylvania circuit was formed, and southport and racine were again put together, with rev. james mitchell as pastor. in they were again separated, and the pastor at racine was rev. milton bourne. in the pastor was rev. g. l. s. stuff, and in , rev. julius field. as before stated, the meetings were at first held in a private house, but as the congregations increased, a public building was rented near the foot of main street. after the school house was built, the meetings were removed to it, and it was at this latter place the writer attended a service during his first sabbath in the state. soon after the first church was built, to which we shall have occasion to refer hereafter. racine district was created in , and rev. chauncey hobart was appointed the first presiding elder. dr. hobart entered the illinois conference in , the conference then including illinois, wisconsin, iowa and minnesota. his appointments before coming to the district had been: rockingham, iowa, monmouth, macomb, quincy, rushville, peoria, jacksonville, springfield, and clark street, chicago. after leaving the district, in , he was appointed presiding elder of minnesota district. at the end of his term he was stationed at spring street, milwaukee, and next served one year as presiding elder on the milwaukee district, when, on account of the infirm health of his wife, he returned to minnesota. since his return, he has continued to labor on both stations and districts with great acceptability up to the present time. dr. hobart is a man of superior abilities, and his labors have been in special demand. he has been elected five times to the general conference, and has been seven times appointed to districts. as a preacher he is always acceptable, but at times he delivers extraordinary sermons. it requires a great occasion to take the full measure of the man. at such times he has been known to move audiences with overwhelming power. especially was this the case under the sermon he delivered at a camp-meeting held two miles west of big foot prairie, in . on this occasion the tide of feeling rose to such a height that great numbers of the congregation unconsciously left their seats and stood entranced, while the saints shouted for joy, and sinners cried out in the anguish of their souls for mercy. having thus spoken of the presiding elder of the racine district, it is fitting that we should now glance briefly at a few of the early charges. kenosha, as we have seen, was included in the racine mission in , and shared the labors of brother curtis. the first class was formed during this term probably by either the pastor or rev. john clark, the presiding elder, and consisted of rev. reuben h. deming, austin kellogg, hon. and mrs. charles durkee, mrs. harvey durkee, john w. dana martha e. dana, and susan dana. the presiding elder, rev. salmon stebbins, held a quarterly meeting in kenosha, then called southport, november th, . the meeting was held in a small log school house standing near the present site of the simmons block. during the following year a revival occurred, which resulted in the conversion of nearly the entire community. the meetings were held in a public building on the north side, but the erection of a church immediately followed. as before stated, brother stebbins became the pastor in , and remained also the following year. the succeeding pastors up to were rev. f.t. mitchell, rev. james mitchell, rev. wm. h. sampson, rev. c.d. cahoon and rev. warner oliver. at this writing, kenosha ranks among the leading stations of the conference. brother stebbins entered the new york conference in . when the conference was divided he fell into the northern portion, which took the name of troy. in this field he labored fourteen years, his charges covering the territory from albany to the canada line. at the solicitation of rev. john clark, he was transferred to the illinois conference in , and appointed presiding elder, the district extending from the illinois state line to green bay. in he was appointed to the racine and southport mission, as before stated, and remained on the southport part the following year. after leaving southport charge he was stationed at platteville, lake, madison and st. charles. subsequently taking a location, he became a resident of kenosha, in the vicinity of which place he still resides. brother stebbins is a man of superior ability, and in his prime enjoyed considerable reputation as a preacher. he is spending the evening of his life in quiet, trustingly awaiting the change that now cannot be long delayed. sylvania was settled by three kellogg brothers and their families in the spring of , the place being first known as kellogg's corners. soon after their arrival the ladies, one of whom, mrs. seth h. kellogg, was the daughter of rev. ebenezer washburn, of new york conference, organized a sunday school. the neighborhood was connected with the racine mission, and a class was formed at an early period, with seth h. kellogg as leader, but i cannot fix the exact date. nor am i able to state at what time the first church was completed. it was claimed, however, to have taken precedence in the state. in the erection of the church, which was built by chauncey kellogg, the young society was assisted by a donation of two hundred dollars from sunday schools in new york city. rev. julius field, whose wife was a sister of the kelloggs, secured the aid, he having been stationed in that city. the church edifice cost six hundred dollars, and was the building in which i preached the funeral sermon of mother washburn some sixteen years later. the veteran, father washburn, was also buried at this place. sylvania was made a separate charge in , with rev. milton bourne as pastor. passing westward, the old walworth circuit should next claim our attention. it will be remembered that this charge was formed in , taking the south half of the old aztalan circuit. the first pastor was rev. james mckean, who was an earnest and devoted laborer in the vineyard. but as his fields fell on the south side of the state line at the end of his term, a record will doubtless be made of him elsewhere. in the circuit was divided. the southeastern portion was called burlington and rochester, with rev. david worthington as pastor, of whom a record has been made in a former chapter, and the name of the old charge was changed to troy, on which brother mckean remained as pastor. on the new charge there were two classes formed by brother worthington during this year. the first was formed in puffer's school house on spring prairie in the summer of , and included in its membership, mr. and mrs. john m. cowham, lansing lewis, and mrs. lewis, his mother. brother cowham was the leader. the other class was organized in lyonsdale, with mr. and mrs. thomas lyon, mr. and mrs. fletcher lyon, mr. and mrs. ansel waite, mr. and mrs. marshall, and mrs. jones. hon. wm. p. lyon, of the supreme court, subsequently became identified with the society. lyons, as the village is called, is at the present writing a charge of respectable standing, having a good church and parsonage. the writer had the pleasure to dedicate the church during his pastorate in racine. at troy, a class had been organized by brother mckean during the latter part of the former year. at this time the members were daniel griffin, sen., daniel griffin, jr., dr. and mrs. brooks bowman, mrs. mccracken, mr. and mrs. john spoor, and a brother jennings. brother spoor was a local preacher, the leader and the s.s. superintendent. in , rev. l.f. moulthrop was appointed to troy circuit. he remained the second year and had as a colleague the excellent rev. henry whitehead, so long and well known by the preachers of the northwest in connection with the chicago book depository. the circuit at this time included troy, eagle, hart prairie, round prairie, turtle prairie, delavan and elkhorn. at eagle a class was formed consisting of rev. william cross, local preacher, mrs. william cross, and her sister, now mrs. james parsons, mr. and mrs. a. hinkley, mr. and mrs. thomas, mr. and mrs. atwater, mr. and mrs. long. at round prairie a class was also formed. the members as far as ascertained were rev. james flanders, local preacher, mr. and mrs. houghton, mrs. norcross, father cornice, and mr. and mrs. nelson cornice. at hart prairie, the services were held in father worthington's log house, where a class was also organized. father worthington, his wife, and two sons, elijah and theodore, and mrs. lewis, were the first members. at delavan the meetings were held alternately in mr. bradway's log house in the village, and at the residence of mr. phoenix, on the prairie. the class at this place was small, and i am unable to insert in the record more than the names of mr. and mrs. bradway. delavan has since grown to the position of an influential charge, with an attractive church and enterprising membership. elkhorn at this early day had no class, but, as the county seat, the village commanded an appointment. for several years the cause moved slowly, but finally won its way to a position. at the present writing, the charge holds a respectable rank in the conference. having thus briefly examined the early history of racine and the other charges that constituted her immediate surroundings, it is now proper that we should return to the record of the writer's pastorate. finding that there was no parsonage, i proceeded to rent a respectable house in a pleasant part of the city, paying for the same an additional one hundred dollars out of my salary. having settled my family, i adopted my usual method of devoting my mornings to my study, and afternoons to pastoral visiting. i soon passed over the entire membership of the station, making it a special point to secure, as far as possible, a faithful attendance upon the means of grace. the effort was successful beyond my expectations. the congregation soon filled the church. and as the interest continued to increase, the aisles and doors were thronged, while large numbers were utterly unable to obtain admission. with this manifestation of interest, it was deemed advisable to enter upon a protracted meeting without delay. we did so, and i preached every night for two weeks. but the result was not satisfactory. we found the spiritual condition was not on a plane with the demands of the work. the vast throng of people had brought upon us a tide of worldly influence that we were unable to withstand. additional moral force was necessary, and, to secure it, we deemed it better to go into the lecture-room and rely upon the social meetings to develop the requisite spiritual power. with this change there came to the membership the spirit of consecration and a remarkable baptism of the holy ghost. before the end of two weeks we were compelled to return to the audience room. the place was again thronged with people, but the good work went forward. i continued to preach nightly for four weeks. one hundred persons were converted and added to the church. with this large increase of members and a corresponding increase of attendants, it was necessary to enlarge the church edifice for their accommodation. accordingly the work was undertaken. the rear end of the building was opened, and the edifice was lengthened so as to accommodate nearly one-third more people. in doing this, it was thought advisable to still increase the length by adding twelve feet more for an orchestra, thereby providing for the removal of the organ from the gallery to the rear of the pulpit. the enlargement, besides furnishing the necessary accommodations for the people, laid a broader financial basis to the charge, by bringing into the congregation a number of families who were able to take the new seats at a good rental. the year passed very satisfactorily. the conference of was held september th, at appleton, bishop simpson presiding. as expected, we were returned to racine. we retained the same house, and found our social relations with the people of racine exceedingly pleasant. with not a few families a life-long friendship was established, and to the present hour the mention of racine revives many pleasant recollections. judge lyon, who came into the church this year, and his good lady, and messrs. knight, yout, adams, langlois, jones, lunn, slauson, bull, lees, conroe, kidder, orr, jillson, brewer, lawrence, with their families, and many others, will never be forgotten. the labors of the year would afford many pleasing incidents were they permitted to appear in these pages, but their recital would unreasonably swell the volume. the usual protracted meeting was held, continuing five weeks. the work was very satisfactory, strengthening the converts of the previous year, and swelling the list of accessions. the revival was especially fruitful in the sunday school, leading many of the young people to christ. but the labors of the year, as usual, came to a close when we were in the midst of our work, and we were compelled to sunder old associations and form new ones in other fields. chapter xviii. conference of .--janesville.--early history.--first sermon.--the collection.--first class.--first church.--first donation.--rev. c.c. mason.--missionary anniversary.--rev. a. hamilton.--rev. d.o. jones.--the writer's pastorate.--the great revival.--the recipe.--old union circuit.--first class.--evansville.--rev. henry summers.--new church. conference of .--beloit.--early pastorates.--church enterprise.--second year at janesville. the conference for was held june th, at spring street, milwaukee, bishop ames presiding. at this conference i was stationed at janesville. janesville, holding a central position in the southern portion of the state, was the initial point of settlement at an early period, and in after years, became the focal as well as the radiation center of church operations. on the th day of november, , a company consisting of six men started from milwaukee with an ox-team and wagon, the latter containing provisions, tools, etc., for the rock river valley. on the th they arrived where janesville now stands, and immediately proceeded to build a log cabin opposite of what is called the "big rock." this was the first settlement in rock river valley. two of their number, however, had explored the southern portion of the territory in the preceding july. at that time there were but two white families in milwaukee, and only one between that place and janesville, that of mr. mcmillen, who lived at what is now called waukesha. on the d of april, , the first united states mail entered janesville. it contained one letter, and this was for the postmaster, henry f. janes. the mail was brought by a man on horseback, whose mail route extended from mineral point to racine. the post-office at janesville for several months consisted of a cigar box, which was fastened to a log in the bar-room. small as it was, it was found to be amply sufficient to contain all the letters then received by the citizens of rock county. the first sermon preached in janesville was delivered by rev. jesse halstead in september, . brother halstead, then on aztalan circuit, on coming to this place found a small log house, which enjoyed the appellation of a tavern. he accepted entertainment in common with other travelers, but, it being soon known that he was a minister, he was invited to preach. he consented, and the services were held in the bar-room. the liquors were put out of sight, and the minister made the bar his pulpit. the audience consisted of a dozen persons. the next religious services of which i can obtain information, were held in the summer of . they were held in an oak grove on one of the bluffs east of the village. i am not able to find any one who can furnish me the name of the preacher, but am assured that he was a methodist, and that he did not neglect that special feature of a methodist service, the collection. this last part of the exercises, i am assured, made a vivid impression on the mind of the party to whom i am indebted for this item of history. and it came in this wise: when the hat was passed he threw in a bill, an act so generous that it could not fail to call attention to the contributor. the next day he received a call from the minister, who desired him to replace the "wild-cat" bill by one of more respectable currency, as those kind of bills were beginning to be refused throughout the territory. in rev. james f. flanders made an occasional visit to janesville and preached to the people. his first sermon was delivered in the bar-room of the public house, which stood on the present site of the myers house. subsequently he preached in an unoccupied log house opposite where lappin's block now stands. the services were next held in school houses, some log and others frame, until the erection of the court house in . thereafter the court room was occupied and used alternately by the different religious denominations. the rev. james mckean was the first minister who preached regularly in janesville. the place was taken into the troy circuit in , and brother mckean visited it once in four weeks. this year rev. julius field held the first quarterly meeting in janesville. in the spring of , brother mckean formed a class and appointed j.p. wheeler leader, but during the following winter the members all left the place. janesville appears first in the minutes as the head of a charge in , with rev. alpha warren as pastor. at this time it was connected with platteville district, and the presiding elder was rev. h.w. reed. brother warren was succeeded by rev. boyd phelps, who organized a class in the spring of , consisting of nine or ten members, with john wynn as leader. rev. lyman catlin, who came in , was the first resident pastor. he was formerly a professor in mt. morris seminary. during the winter his wife, who was a lady of fine culture, taught a select school in the village. brother catlin preached in janesville on the morning of each sabbath, and in the afternoon alternated between union and johnstown. the following year, rev. t.w. perkins was appointed to the charge, but in consequence of ill health, he was soon obliged to resign. his place was supplied by rev. stephen adams, of beloit. in rev. john luccock was the pastor, and was followed the next year by rev. wesley lattin, who remained two years. brother lattin was very popular with all classes, and his labors were blessed with an extensive revival. during his pastorate the society erected a small frame church, by feet in size. it was opened for worship in the fall of . the location was on the opposite side of centre street, and a little west of the present edifice. a parsonage was also erected the same year. both of them, however, were sold when the grounds were purchased for the new church. it was during the pastorate of brother lattin that the first donation party ever held in janesville, was given. the company assembled at the residence of mr. and mrs. john wynn, where brother lattin boarded. the ladies furnished the table with all the luxuries the village afforded, and the affair was considered a grand success. brother lattin was followed successively by revs. j.m. snow, o.f. comfort, and daniel stansbury. during the winter of brother stansbury held a series of meetings, assisted by rev. c.c. mason, which resulted in a considerable addition to the membership of the church. finding that the little church was now becoming too small to accommodate them, the society decided to build a more commodious house of worship. it was commenced in the spring following, and was located on the corner of jackson and centre streets. this is the edifice now occupied by the first charge, is built of brick, and is by feet in size. the building was not fully completed until during the pastorate of rev. henry requa, in , but it was so far advanced that it was dedicated in july, , by the pioneer veteran, rev. john clark, of the rock river conference. the severe labors of brother stansbury overtaxed his strength, and he was compelled to seek rest. brother mason was employed to fill out the balance of the year. brother mason was a local preacher from england, had lost one limb, and though somewhat eccentric, he held a high rank as a pulpit orator. he was often not a little surprised with the queer ways of this country. i remember to have met him at the janesville conference several years later. he was put up to preach, as usual on all great occasions, and delivered a grand sermon. the following evening the missionary anniversary came, and at the close of the speeches, the meeting proceeded to constitute life memberships. this was a new role to the old gentleman, but, soon comprehending the movement, he launched into it with all his soul. the good bishop was made a life member, then his wife, then the missionary secretary, and so on in a spirited manner. as each proposition was made, the good brother planked his dollar, little dreaming of the length of the road upon which he had entered. but as the memberships were multiplied, his purse fell under the law of subtraction, until it contained but one dollar more. just at this moment some zealous brother proposed to be one of ten to make the presiding elder of the janesville district a life member of the conference missionary society. it was no time for parley about that remaining dollar, for the janesville district must not be outdone by the other districts in gallantry, so down went the last dollar. but it had hardly reached the table before the giver was hunting for his crutches. such was the generous nature of the man, however, that he would have stood his ground to the coming of the morning if he had been advised in advance of the character of the anniversary exercises. in rev. j.w. wood was stationed at janesville, and rev. henry requa in and . brother requa was very popular, drew large audiences, and realized an accession of fifty members. at the conference of a new charge was formed on the east side of the river, and rev. c.c. mason, who had been received on trial, was appointed as its first pastor. in , rev. a. hamilton was appointed to janesville, and rev. d.o. jones to east janesville. brother hamilton came to the conference this year by transfer from the oneida conference, where he had done effective work for several years. at the close of the year in janesville he was made presiding elder of watertown district, where he remained two years. in , by a reconstruction of the districts, he was assigned to beaver dam district, where he remained the other two years of his term. for a number of years thereafter he served on circuits and stations. his health now failed and he took a superannuated relation. brother hamilton was a good and true man, of a metaphysical turn of thought, well versed in theology, and an instructive preacher. brother jones entered the conference in , and had been stationed at elk grove, richland city, muscoday, and green bay. since he left janesville, he has taken a respectable class of appointments, filling them creditably to himself and acceptably to the people. he is genial in spirit and warm in his attachments. he is still in the enjoyment of good health, and promises years of efficient service. this brief record brings us to the date of my appointment. at the recent session of the conference, the charge on the east side of the river was left to be supplied, and as it had, up to this time, developed but little strength, twenty-six members only, it was deemed best to let it go back to the old charge. i found the church edifice in good condition, but without class or prayer-rooms. the external appearance was decidedly respectable, and the accommodations within, both in respect to size and furnishing, equal or superior to any other church in the village. the parsonage, a small and inferior building, had been recently sold to liquidate in part the indebtedness remaining on the church, and this involved the necessity of renting a house for my family. after becoming settled in our new home, the first special work was to complete the payment of the church debt. this was soon arranged, and i was at liberty to direct my attention more particularly to the spiritual interests of the charge. my first labor in this direction, as in all my former charges, was to look well after the people at their homes, and the second, to see that the social means of grace were well arranged and properly sustained. and i soon found in janesville, as i have always found, that they are the key to successful labor. it is possible by corresponding adjustment of pulpit labor to excite the attention of the community, and thereby secure large congregations, but such a result is not a certain index of true success. in the forum, as on the platform, it may be otherwise, but in the building up of christ's kingdom, there must be a spiritual basis; for his kingdom is a spiritual kingdom. in these days of special clamor for superior pulpit attractions to draw the crowd, there is a strong temptation to court popular favor by adjusting both the themes and style of address to the pulpit in such a way as to withold from the people the only spiritual food that can give life to a dead soul. such a ministry in the eyes of the world may be deemed a great success, but to such as judge not after the outward appearance, it is known to be a dead failure. while it utterly fails to bring souls to christ, it is also disastrous to the church itself. the mighty adhesive forces, which bind the hearts of christians to each other, can only subsist on the marrow of gospel truth, and if this is wanting, dissension will soon appear, and the church suffer disintegration. holding these views, strengthened as they had been by my former experience and observation, i resolved, at whatever cost of reputation, to adhere to them in janesville. the result proved their wisdom. with the revival of the prayer and class meetings, and the utterance of plain evangelical truth from the pulpit, came a speedy manifestation of spiritual interest and growth. and so marked had this indication of the presence of the spirit become, that i felt justified in opening a protracted meeting with the watch-night services. the meeting grew in interest from night to night, and in a short time the altar was filled with penitents. thus opened a meeting that continued four months, resulting gloriously to the charge. nearly three hundred persons professed to be converted, and near two hundred of them were received on probation. during the meeting i preached nearly every night, and sometimes in the afternoons. but i was greatly assisted in the meeting by revs. j.b. cooper and i.s. eldridge, of whom mention will be made in another chapter. rev. a.b. bishop, now a valuable member of minnesota conference, was also, though young, a good laborer in the meeting. among the laymen who rendered special service was brother j.l. kimball, who, with his daughter emily, had been for years the principal reliance in the singing, both in the choir and social meetings. referring to this good brother brings up an incident of the meeting. brother k. had long been recognized as the financial man and the singer of the church, but could never take a part in the social services with any comfort to himself. in one of the meetings i suggested that in these matters as in others, practice would relieve the case. he concluded to try it, and for two weeks spoke a few words as opportunity offered. but he finally told the congregation that my recipe would not work. others might be able to talk their way to heaven, but he was satisfied that, as for himself, he would have to pay his way, if he ever got there. the pleasant remark seemed more in keeping, when it was remembered that he was always a generous contributor to every good cause. while many of the converts were from among the young people, not a few were persons of mature years, and some of them in affluent circumstances. the large increase of members rendered it necessary to reconstruct the classes, but the want of class rooms retarded this branch of our work. several of the classes were assigned to meet during the week at private houses, and four of them met in the audience room at the close of the morning service. by placing a class in each corner, with the understanding that when one of them commenced to sing, all the others should join, the plan worked very well. after the singing each class took up the thread where it had been dropped, and proceeded with the service. usually the pastor sat in the altar to give the responses to the exercises of each as they seemed to require them. sometimes not a little confusion occurred, but it was taken in good feeling by all, and the meetings were profitable. we also organized meetings outside of the village. school houses and private dwellings were used for this purpose, and these meetings not only accommodated the people of the several neighborhoods adjacent to the village, but gave the needed religious employment to the local preachers and other members of the church. the meetings were held in the afternoons of the sabbath, and sometimes, to hold the plan in countenance, the pastor himself would go out and deliver a sermon. at first it was feared by some of the good brethren that these side meetings would detract from the regular services of the church, but the result proved that, on the contrary, they gave an increase of both interest and attendance. for the people, thus edified and interested, came into the village and thronged the church. but the year was now drawing to a close. by request of the preceding conference, the conference session had been changed to spring. the year had been one of severe labor, but its compensations were abundant. i was able to report a membership, including probationers, of three hundred and six. two events in my own family clothed the year with special interest. the one, the conversion of our eldest daughter, then nine years old, and her reception into the church, the other, the birth of our son. they were both occasions of devout thanksgiving to god. during this year i made a visit to evansville, a charge that seems to hold a central position in the conference west of janesville. the first settlement was made in this vicinity in the fall of , when six families came into what was then called the town of union. these early settlers were rev. boyd phelps, rev. stephen jones, erastus quivey, samuel lewis, charles mcmillin, and john rhineheart. during the winter and spring religious meetings were established in private houses, rev. boyd phelps preaching the first sermon. in the following spring and summer, the settlement was enlarged by the arrival of ira jones, jacob west, john t. baker, rev. john griffith, hiram griffith, david johnson, john sale and their families. the heads of all these families being members of the methodist episcopal church, they applied to rev. samuel pillsbury, in charge of the monroe circuit, for recognition. he visited them, established an appointment and formed them into a class in august, . the class was organized at the residence of hiram griffith, located about one mile northwest of the present site of evansville. at the first organization the members were: jacob west, leader, margaret west, boyd phelps, local preacher, clarissa phelps, stephen jones, local preacher, isabel jones, john griffith, local preacher, belinda griffith, john t. baker, jemima baker, ira jones, sarah j. jones, john rhineheart, deborah rhineheart, alma jones, samuel lewis, sarah lewis, charles mcmillan, miriam mcmillan, jane brown, erastus quivey, sally quivey, hiram griffith, sally griffith, david johnson and kizziah johnson. soon after john sale and jane sale also became members. of this number, at least two became itinerant preachers. the first, rev. boyd phelps, filled several appointments in the conference, and was presiding elder of beaver dam district. he then removed to minnesota, where he has also rendered effective service. the second, rev. stephen jones, was my predecessor at watertown, but only continued a few years, when he entered secular pursuits. at one time he was a member of the state legislature. rev. james ash was sent to the monroe circuit in , and his work embraced union. he remained two years, and was very successful in his work. the first quarterly meeting was held in the house of brother jacob west, by rev. h.w. reed, in the fall of . in union was attached to the madison circuit, and the pastor was rev. s.p. keyes. during this year a log school house was erected on the present site of evansville, for the double purpose of school and religious meetings. this building was used for public worship until the summer of . from to union was connected with the janesville circuit. in the union circuit was formed, with rev. asa wood as pastor. it was assigned to the platteville district, with rev. henry summers as presiding elder. brother summers was a veteran representative of the methodist preacher of the olden time. he entered the work when illinois was yet in her maidenhood, and from the first was a recognized power in the land. genial in spirit, full of anecdote, abundant in labors, an able preacher, a faithful administrator, and a devoted servant of the master, he enjoyed the esteem of all. but i need not enlarge, as doubtless a record will be made of his labors in illinois, where his fields of labor were principally located. under the labors of brother wood, a frame church, by feet in size, was erected, the location being in the block now occupied by j. r. finch as a store in the village of evansville. the building was dedicated by brother summers in june, . but it will be necessary to omit further details of these early years. old union, the mother of charges west of janesville, has been well represented in the itinerant ranks. in addition to brothers phelps and jones, to whom reference has been made, she has sent into the field revs. james lawson, j.h. hazeltine, george fellows, and a.a. hoskins. in , evansville station was created, with rev. e.p. beecher as pastor. the janesville district was also established this year, with rev. j.w. wood as presiding elder. under the pastorate of rev. george w. de lamatyr, which begin in , the new church was erected, costing some six thousand dollars. it was dedicated by rev. dr. fallows in the fall of . at the present writing evansville is recognized as a charge of excellent standing. the conference of was held may th at beloit, bishop morris presiding. at this conference the writer was elected secretary, and revs. s. w. ford and george fellows assistants. the session was brief and harmonious. beloit is located on the line between the states of illinois and wisconsin, and was at first connected with roscoe circuit, a charge lying on the illinois side. the class was probably informally organized by brother thomas mcelhenny, the first leader, in . the following year rev. milton bourne, pastor of roscoe circuit, established an appointment and recognized the infant society. the members, besides brother mcelhenny, were tyler blodgett, mrs. m.m. moore and sister lusena cheney. the pastors of roscoe circuit, during its supervision of beloit, in addition to brother bourne, were revs. james mckean, o.w. munger, john hodges, alpha warren, and zadoc hall. beloit was made a separate charge in , with rev. joseph t. lewis as pastor, to whom reference has been made in a former chapter. during this year the society entered upon a church enterprise. the lot was purchased by rev. stephen adams and brother thomas mcelhenny. the society was feeble, and the erection of the building, a substantial stone structure, required a great effort and many sacrifices. to purchase the lime, three hundred and fifty bushels, brother adams sold his only cow. little can those who come after realize the sacrifices the early pioneers were called to make to render the later years happy and prosperous. the church thus begun under the pastorate of brother lewis was not fully completed until , when it was dedicated by bishop janes. the death of brother lewis in the midst of his second year, was a severe loss to the charge. but the good brethren were not discouraged, and pushed forward the work. beloit has been highly favored in her pastors, among whom may be found such men as a.p. allen, i.m. leihy, j.m. walker, p.s. bennett, s.w. ford, j.w. wood, john nolan, r.m. beach, c. scammon, w. lattin, p.b. pease, c.d. pillsbury, w.p. stowe, l.l. knox, w.w. case, c.r. pattee, a.c. higgins, and g.s. hubbs. at the close of the conference we returned to janesville for a second year. there still being no parsonage i purchased a residence, thereby securing a pleasant home. the plan of supplying outside appointments was continued during the summer, and in some instances sunday schools were also opened. the religious interest continued, and the church was filled with people. at the expiration of their probation one hundred of the converts were received into full membership, and, in the following fall and winter, many others. during the winter a revival again visited the charge, which greatly strengthened the converts of the previous year, and added to their number. the two years spent in janesville to us were exceedingly pleasant, and gave us a goodly number of life-long friends. the sunday school had become very prosperous, the charge was now out of debt, and the finances self-supporting. and more than all, we left a united and happy people. janesville has since enjoyed her full share of able and successful pastors. several years ago, she divided into two bands, and has now two good churches, two good congregations, and two able ministers. chapter xix. conference of .--presiding elder.--milwaukee district.--residence.--district parsonage.-visits to charges.--spring street.--asbury.--rev. a.c. manwell.--brookfield.--west granville.--wauwatosa.--rev. j.p. roe.--waukesha.--rev. wesley lattin,--oconomowoc.--rev. a.c. pennock.--rev. job b. mills.--hart prairie.--rev. delos hale.--watertown. rev. david brooks.--rev. a.c. huntley.--brookfield camp-meeting. the next conference session was held april th, , at sheboygan falls. the excellent bishop baker presided, and i was again elected secretary. it was at this conference the trial of rev. j. w. wood was had. he had been the presiding elder of the janesville district, but, having obtained a divorce from his wife on the ground of desertion, instead of the one cause named in the new testament, and married another, he had been suspended during the year. the trial resulted in his expulsion. the case was carried to the next general conference on appeal, and that body sustained the action taken by the conference. the disability thus hanging over the presiding elder of the janesville district, rendered it necessary that some one should be appointed to represent the district in the cabinet. the bishop appointed me to this duty, thus imposing severe labor for the session. since i was appointed to represent the district at the conference, it was generally supposed that i would be continued the following year, my term having expired at janesville. but on the contrary, i was assigned to the milwaukee district. this arrangement made waukesha my place of residence, as the milwaukee district had erected at this village a district parsonage. the inevitable concomitant of the itinerancy, the moving season, passed in the ordinary course of events, and left us comfortably located in our new home. the district at this time included nineteen charges. the larger portion of them could be reached by railroad, but a sufficient number lay off the line of public conveyance to render it advisable to keep a horse and buggy, and hence they were obtained. soon after reaching my new field of labor, my attention was called to the financial condition of the district parsonage. i found that a small debt had come down from the erection of the building, which had been increased from year to year by accruing interest and repairs, until at this time the entire indebtedness amounted to nine hundred and thirty-one dollars. meantime there had been, during the preceding year of financial pressure, such a depreciation of property in the village, that the building was now worth but little more, if any, than the amount of indebtedness. in looking the matter over, i saw at a glance that it would be much easier to build a new house in a desirable location than to pay an old debt of this magnitude. but there were other interests to be considered. the money for the erection of this parsonage had been given in good faith by the people, and if it were now permitted to pass out of the hands of the trustees, there would be a shock to the confidence they had reposed in the administration of the church. and in the next place, this money had been borrowed of innocent parties, and it was but right that it should be returned. with these views, i undertook to save the property, but i am free to say it was the most thankless financial task i had ever undertaken. i gave the first one hundred and fifty dollars, and then divided the balance among the charges of the district. in passing around to my quarterly meetings, the amounts in most cases were pledged, and the larger portion finally paid. yet the collections were not fully completed before the end of my term. milwaukee at this time still retained its three charges, and they were now in charge respectively of rev. j. m. walker, rev. e. cooke, d.d., and rev. a.c. manwell. as stated in a former chapter, brother walker had served his full term on the beaver dam district, where he had been very popular. he entered upon his field with great spirit, but found himself greatly embarrassed by the unhappy financial condition of the charge. besides the indebtedness remaining on the church, there remained considerable arrears on the salaries of preceding pastorates. this paying a pastor at the end of his term in notes, that shall come back to haunt his successor, is not in keeping with the financial genius of the church. i once had some sad experience in that line, and since it was not in milwaukee, i will take occasion to refer to it in this connection. it was at a time when the slip rents were not large, averaging only about two hundred dollars a quarter. in the case referred to, the two hundred dollars of the first quarter of my year, had been absorbed to meet the claims of the outgoing pastor. and then, as he was still behind two hundred dollars, a note was given him for the balance. by this arrangement, the first half year of my term had been anticipated, and had not the people, finding out the state of the case, come to my aid with a good donation, i must have been greatly embarrassed. nor does such mismanagement affect the one man alone. the system entails disaster upon the successive pastors of the charge. each man feels that his predecessor has done him a great wrong, when the case may be, the wrong was done by one man several years before, and afterwards his successors have only been carrying it over from year to year. but, however long it may be carried, it still remains as the plague of both the pastors and the church. but in the person of brother walker, the system was squelched. though at the end of his term, owing largely to this irregularity, he was largely deficient in his claim, he balanced the year. brother manwell, the pastor of asbury, entered the north indiana conference in , was transferred to the wisconsin conference in , and had served green bay two years, before coming to this charge. the church accommodations were limited, but he made two good years at asbury, and was able at their close to report considerable progress. after leaving the city, brother manwell served a good class of appointments, and among them racine, janesville, whitewater and ripon, until , when he was transferred to upper iowa conference. he was a man of kind spirit, pleasant address, and specially successful in leading the social meetings in his charges. reference is made to dr. cooke in a former chapter, and i need only say in this connection that under his pastorate summerfield had a prosperous year. at wauwatosa, i found rev. n.j. aplin, of whom mention is made in a former chapter. his assistant was rev. edward bassett, a promising young man, who had been converted in the revival at janesville. the two men worked admirably together, and the year was one of great prosperity to the circuit. the circuit was in a flame of revival. and during the year, the beautiful brick church at west granville was erected. the brookfield class, it will be remembered, was formed by brother frink in . the members were: robert curren, leader, sarah curren, t.m. riddle, adeline riddle, gideon wales, polly wales, mark johnson, ann butterfield, margaret underwood, charles curran, frank morgan, mrs. frank morgan, and mrs. fellows. to these were soon added, mr. and mrs. carlton, mr. and mrs. raymond. this society had already erected a comfortable frame church, and the neighborhood had become famous as the locality in which the milwaukee district camp-meetings were held. west granville church was located in the neighborhood that was known in the early times by the name of menomonee. and it will be recollected that brother frink organized a class at this point also in . the members of the class were: william coates, leader, sarah coates, t.j. rice, cynthia rice, edward earl, hannah earl, lyman wheeler, bigelow case, alvira case, mrs. martin m. curtis, nathan wheeler, jr., william hudson, susan hudson. at the first the class at menomonee included all the members in that region, but as the country became settled other classes were organized, and among them those at the haylett, nelson and coates neighborhoods. subsequently these classes concentrated at menomonee falls and erected a church. a new church has since been built, and at this writing the village constitutes a respectable charge. at wauwatosa there was no church, and brother aplin held his meetings in a school house. but in a fine brick edifice was erected under the pastorate of rev. john p. roe. brother roe resided, at the time of my appointment to the milwaukee district, on the new berlin circuit. during the war he went to the army and served as chaplain with great acceptability. on his return he rendered effective service as a local preacher until , when he entered the conference and was appointed to wauwatosa. at the end of two years he was elected agent of the lawrence university, and continued two years, performing prodigies of labor, and achieving a grand success in raising an endowment fund. but his health finally failed, and he was compelled to retire from the work. at this writing, he is traveling in europe. at waukesha, the pastor was rev, wesley lattin, who had been returned for a second year. this noble and true man was received into the conference, as before stated, in the same class with the writer. his first appointment was sycamore, ill., with rev. stephen r. beggs as preacher in charge. brother lattin had been stationed in waukesha in , and had now returned in and . the year was a prosperous one. a good revival crowned his labors, and all the interests of the church were kept in a healthy condition. in the department of pastoral labor brother lattin was not inferior to any man in the conference. filled with the spirit of charity himself, he was always able to diffuse the same kindly feeling among the people. nor is it too much to say, he was universally beloved. of an easy and graceful delivery, and plain, practical thought, his ministry was always agreeable and useful. after leaving waukesha, he was stationed successively at beloit, fond du lac, waupun, ripon, appleton, and then returned again to waukesha. but here his health failed and he retired from the work for two years, but having removed to kansas where his health rallied again, he was transferred to the kansas conference in . since going to kansas, our dear brother has had the misfortune to lose his wife and son. they were traveling to a neighboring town with a horse and buggy. in trying to ford a river the waters proved too strong for the faithful horse, and they were all swept down the stream together, and were drowned. in this great sorrow brother lattin has the sympathies of all his brethren of the conference. oconomowoc was at this time under the pastoral charge of rev. thomas wilcox. it will be remembered that a class was formed at this place by brother frink, in connection with his labors on the watertown circuit. the members were: george w. williams, leader; mrs. george w. williams, jonathan dorrity, mr. and mrs. day dewey. in it was connected with summit, and retained brother frink as pastor. in it was connected with prairieville circuit, and shared the services of revs. l.f. moulthrop and s. stover. before the erection of the church, the meetings were held in a hall over a cooper shop. the church enterprise was commended under the pastorate of rev. s.w. martin, a lot being donated for the purpose by john s. rockwell, esq. under the pastorate of rev. a.c. pennock, the church was put in condition for use, and on the d of february, , the writer was called to dedicate the basement. the second church enterprise was commenced in , tinder the labors of rev. george fellows, and was completed during the pastorate of rev. wm. r. jones in . it was dedicated by bishop thomson. oconomowoc has grown to be one of the strongest and most desirable appointments in the conference. at the time of my visit in the charge had been divided, giving to rev. a. c. pennock the oconomowoc portion, and rev. job b. mills the northern appointments. brother pennock entered the conference in , and was appointed to west bend. the following year, as above stated, he was sent to oconomowoc, but here his health failed, and he was compelled to rest a year. in he was re-admitted and again appointed to oconomowoc, with rev. t.o. hollister as assistant. during this year he was greatly afflicted in the loss of his wife, and before the expiration of the year he was sent to waukesha to supply the place of brother lattin, whose health had failed. in brother pennock was stationed at asbury, milwaukee, but, his health again failing, he decided to go to minnesota at the end of the year. he remained in minnesota, doing effective work until , when, becoming satisfied his health was unequal to the itinerancy, he located. at the present writing he is residing in madison. he has a clear head and a warm heart. brother mills came to wisconsin from washington, d.c., in the spring of . after stopping in milwaukee a few months, and receiving license to exhort from spring street station, he removed to oconomowoc, where he was granted a local preacher's license. being employed, as before stated, on the north part of oconomowoc charge, he found ten appointments and seven classes committed to his care, which gave him abundance of labor. he was admitted into the conference at its next session, and returned to his former field. his subsequent appointments in wisconsin were bark river, palmyra, and root river. in he was sent to minneapolis mission in minnesota, having rev. david brooks as his presiding elder. in this place, now so flourishing a city, he was compelled to hold his meetings in a loft over the post office. but, notwithstanding these disadvantages, he formed a class, and his good wife organized a sabbath school. in brother mills took a transfer to the peoria conference, now central illinois, and in , on account of blindness, was compelled to take a superannuation. at this writing he is residing at oconomowoc, but, on invitation, often goes abroad to assist the brethren in their work. he is a grand, good man, and his labors are always appreciated. the next charge visited was hart prairie. this circuit had once formed a part of the old troy charge of the early times, but, after undergoing various changes, it was now a charge by itself. it had a small church and a most interesting congregation. here i was the guest of rev. richard fairchilds, a local preacher of large intelligence and extensive influence. the pastor was rev. delos hale, who entered the conference in . he had shirked duty for several years, and had been known as a reliable business man at summit. but finally, accepting his responsibilities, he was appointed first to oak creek, and then west bend. he was now on his second year, and was in the midst of a revival. at my visit in the following summer, i attended a camp-meeting on grounds a short distance east of the church. the meeting was largely attended, and many souls were brought into the kingdom. i was greatly pleased with my visit to watertown. the church i had left in an unfinished condition in , was completed by rev. david brooks two years later, when i returned and performed the dedicatory service. brother brooks entered the rock river conference in , and was stationed at dixon, illinois. on coming to watertown, he entered upon his work with spirit, and success crowned his efforts. after leaving watertown, he rendered effective service in the regular work until , when he was elected agent of the lawrence university. in he was appointed presiding elder of the minnesota district, since which time he has continued to labor on both stations and districts in that field with great acceptability. brother brooks is a man of sterling qualities. sound in the faith, circumspect in demeanor, faithful in his work, and true to every interest of the church, he could not fail to make a good record. i found rev. a.c. huntley the pastor at watertown. brother huntley entered the traveling connection in western new york, and came to the wisconsin conference by transfer in . he had already held a protracted meeting, and a large number had professed conversion, giving considerable additional strength to the charge. the church edifice had now become too small to meet the demands of the charge, and brother huntley had entered upon the labor of enlargement. in this good work he had not only planned and superintended, but had also put his own hands to the actual labor. he succeeded so well in the enterprise, that he finally decided to make the extension large enough to furnish also a good parsonage in the rear of the church edifice. the dedicatory services were conducted by the writer on saturday, july th. the brookfield camp-meeting was held in the latter part of june. the grove on the farm of robert curren, esq., was secured for a term of years, and through the assistance of brothers aplin and bassett, and the brethren on adjacent charges, it was well fitted up for the purposes of a camp-meeting. at this meeting we adopted the plan of making our camp-meetings self supporting. instead of relying upon the brethren in the neighborhood to do all the work and keep open doors for the week, we determined to pay our own bills, and thus permit the good people in the vicinity to enjoy the meeting, as well as those who came from abroad. the change was deemed a great improvement. there was a good show of tents, and the attendance was large. the preaching was excellent, as the good brethren were more intent upon saving souls than ventilating their great sermons. the meeting resulted in the conversion of many souls, while the membership was greatly quickened. in these latter days the question is sometimes raised, "of what advantage are these camp-meetings, now that we have good churches in which to worship god?" the question might be answered by another, "of what advantage is it to have picnics and other excursions in the open air, and pleasant groves, since we have houses to dwell in and restaurants to supply the cravings of the appetite?" the fact is, camp-meetings are as thoroughly in harmony with the laws of philosophy as they are in keeping with the principles of religion. to intensify either the mental or spiritual forces, it is necessary to break up, at times, their monotonous habits, and send them off into new channels of thought and feeling. a lesson may be learned in this direction from the picnic excursion. it is not the little ones alone who, relieved of the confinement of the parlor, gambol in half frantic ecstasy, but the sedate matron and the grave sire renew their youth, and in their exhuberance of spirit, join in the recreations with the zest of childhood. the same law obtains in camp-meetings. why not go out into the woods, beneath the spreading branches of the trees, or even under the uncurtained canopy of heaven, and enjoy a grand unbending of the spirit? with the shackles thrown off that have so long fettered the soul, what a heaven of felicity there is in its conscious freedom. the eagle, long confined in a cage, after stretching his wings to satisfy himself that he is really free, gambols in the air with an indescribable ecstasy. so there are thousands of christians shut up in the churches who are dying for a little spiritual freedom. their poor souls need a holiday. let them go out to a good thorough-going camp-meeting, and obtain a new lease of life. and in saying this, i am not advocating undue license. i am only pleading for the inalienable rights of a human soul. such freedom of spirit is entirely consonant with the highest culture and absolute decorum. communing thus with nature in her purest and most lovely moods, the soul is dwelling in the vestibule of god's own sanctuary. no wonder that prayer and song find such grand perfection in the camp-meeting. it is there they find their highest inspiration. but another advantage of the camp-meeting lies in the unbroken chain of religious thought and feeling which it affords. in the ordinary experiences of life, the secular and the religious strongly mingle and intercept each other. but in the tented grove the secular is shut away from the mind, and the religious holds complete mastery. one service follows another, and one religious impulse succeeds another so rapidly that the soul finds no interval for communion with the world. and as the ore, by long tarrying in the furnace, where no breath of cooling currents can reach it, flows as a liquid and is ready to take any form, so the soul, held in hallowed communion with the divine spirit, is prepared to receive the perfect image of god. to the soul who has no knowledge of these delightful experiences, there hangs a mystery around the camp-meeting, but to christians the whole subject is as clear as the noon-day. like the disciples on the mount of transfiguration, they are prepared to say, "master, it is good for us to be here." with them christ is the central figure, and it is his presence that hallows the temple in the wilderness. it is sometimes objected that the exercises at camp-meetings are too boisterous, and lead to extravagances. to this objection there are two replies. first, it must be conceded that camp-meetings are not the only meetings that may be denominated boisterous. at political meetings, and on other occasions, i have witnessed the equal, at least, of anything i have seen at camp meetings. but the other reply is more to the point. no one can well deprecate the boisterous and extravagant in religion more than i do, and yet i accept both as a necessity. to move men to right action, they must be swayed by right influences. if men were susceptible to the good, then gentle influences might sway them, but as they are steeped in evil, and largely lost to the better influences, the sterner only can reach them. if this shall be found to be true in the individual, then certainly it is more emphatically true of men in the aggregate. to move a multitude, then, to the acceptance of christ, the congregation must be put under an intense moral pressure. and it will be found that the measure of pressure that will move the great mass, will sometimes move individuals of peculiarly sensitive temperament over into the extravagant. now in such cases, one of two things must be accepted. we must be content to leave the great aggregate unmoved, or we must endure the irregularities that are sometimes seen, not only at camp-meetings, but in all revivals of religion. we cannot accept the former, for it involves the ruin of perishing souls. then, accepting the latter, we may not condemn what cannot be avoided, if the great end of christian effort shall be realized. human nature is a very strange combination, and it must be taken as it is. the religion of christ proposes to save men, and to do so it must take us as we are. the wonder is not that it can make so little out of us, but rather, that it is able to make even a few fair specimens, while the balance of us are only indifferent ones. yet i rejoice to know that even the poorest of us are vastly better than we would have been had it not been for the revelation of christ in us. chapter xx. whitewater conference.--report on slavery.--election of delegates.--whitewater.--early history.--rev. dr. bannister.--general conference.--member of mission committee.--conference .--rev. i.l. hauser.--mrs. i.l. hauser.--rev. j.c. robbins.--the rebellion.--its causes.--fall of sumter.--extract of sermon.--conference .--rev. j.h. jenne.--rev. s.c. thomas.--rev. g.c. haddock.--colonelcy.--close of term. the thirteenth session of the wisconsin conference was held oct. , , in the village of whitewater, and was presided over by bishop ames. the year had been of less than seven months duration, as by request of the conference, the time of holding the sessions had been changed back to the fall. when the change was made in the first place, from fall to spring, it was believed by many that such an arrangement would be a benefit to the preachers, by giving them, for the winter, the products of their gardens. but, after a trial, it was found that the roads were generally much worse in the spring than in the fall, and if the conferences were delayed so as to find good roads for moving, the preachers would reach their new fields too late to plant their gardens. hence, after trying the experiment, it was thought best to return to the fall. at this conference the election of delegates to the general conference again occurred. the slavery question was now rife, and of course this election could not be held without making it an issue. during the early part of the conference this subject became the general theme of conversation, and, i might add, the discussions and the prayers. in short, every man who was in danger of being struck with a vote must certainly show his colors on the slavery issue. an able committee was formed, and a careful report rendered. and when the vote was taken on the report, all eyes were on the alert to see how each candidate voted. as the report on slavery is not lengthy, i will insert it as taken from the conference minutes: . that the assertion that the m.e. church is constitutionally pro-slavery, whether that assertion be made by our professed friends or by our enemies, is a base slander. . that we recommend to the next general conference so to change the general rule on slavery as to prohibit the buying selling or holding a human being as a slave. . that we concur with the providence conference in recommending to the next general conference so to change the general rule on slavery as to read: 'slavery, the buying or selling of men, women or children, with an intention to enslave them.' . that we concur with the erie conference in recommending to the next general conference so to change the general rule on slavery as to read: 'the buying, selling, holding or transferring of a human being, to be used in slavery.' it will be observed that the wisconsin conference preferred the wording of her own proposed rule, yet such was her anxiety to secure action by the general conference, that she was willing to adopt any other form of words, if the same sentiment should be explicitly incorporated. and by concurring in those sent from the providence and erie conferences, and at the same time re-affirming her own, which was going the circuit of the other conferences, she hoped to see some one of them reach the approaching general conference, with the recommendation of a sufficient number of the annual conferences, to make it a law at once on the action of that body. with this intense interest thrown around the subject, it is not a matter of surprise that the votes of the candidates, on the adoption of the report, were carefully watched. but in some cases even a fair and unequivocal vote was not enough. committees were self-constituted, or perhaps caucus-constituted to interview candidates, much after the modern style, to see whether they were sound on the main question. and as i had now become sufficiently advanced in years to be considered a candidate, i was waited on by such an inquisitorial body. i told the good brethren that i was not a little surprised to find any one in doubt as to my position. "oh," said they, "we are not really in doubt as to your position, but we would like to understand how strong your convictions are, as you have not attended our meetings." "yes," said i, "and perhaps you will say that by neglecting your meetings, i have shown a want of zeal for the cause. if so, i wish to state my position. in the first place, i have never felt it to be my duty to make a great show of valor, as long as the enemy is out of reach. and in the second place, i am in a different position from many of our present abolitionists, and should bear myself accordingly. they are young converts, and having just come into the kingdom, they must get up a tremendous shout, so as to satisfy their new associates that their conversion is genuine. but as to myself, i was always an abolitionist. i have never uttered a word, written a sentence, or cast a vote that did not look in that direction. why, then, should i go into a spasm on the eve of an election?" whether my little speech had anything to do with the result of the ballot which placed me at the head of the delegation or not, it is impossible to divine. but of one thing i felt assured. i had "freed my mind," as the old lady said, and felt better. the balance of the delegation were i.m. leihy, s. c. thomas, e. cooke, and p. s. bennett. at this conference, i was also appointed the chairman of a committee "to collect historical facts." thus early did the conference indicate a desire that the record of her devoted and pioneer men should not be lost. whitewater, the seat of the conference, was a thriving village of two or three thousand inhabitants, and gave the conference a most hospitable entertainment. this place was settled april st, , by mr. william barren, who was joined by mr. calvin prince in the middle of the same month. the first sermon was preached in the fall of the same year by rev. jesse halstead. whitewater became a separate charge in , with rev. alpha warren as pastor. during this year a class was formed. the members were: j.k. wood, leader; mrs. j.k. wood, henry johnson, a.r. eaton, mrs. a.r. eaton, mrs. dr. clark, mrs. j.j. stearin, roxana hamilton, and miss whitcomb. the meetings were held in private houses until the new brick school house was built. they were then held in the school house until the church was erected. the first church was commenced under the pastorate of rev. j. harrington in , and was completed under that of rev. j.m. walker in . it was dedicated by the last named, feb. th, . the church was enlarged under the pastorate of rev. a.c. huntley. whitewater station erected a new brick church, one of the finest in the interior, under the pastorate of rev. c.n. stowers, which was dedicated by bishop merrill oct. th, . at this writing, whitewater ranks among the leading stations of the conference, having a good congregation and a most enterprising society. at the close of this conference i was returned to the milwaukee district. there were only a few changes made in the appointments of the preachers. at this conference the name of rev. henry bannister, d.d., professor in garrett biblical institute, was transferred from the racine to the milwaukee district, and he was made a member of the summerfield quarterly conference. dr. bannister entered the oneida conference in , and for two years served as professor of languages in the oneida conference seminary. at the conference of , he was appointed principal, and held that position with distinguished honor until he was elected to a professorship in the garrett biblical institute. at the present writing he is still at the institute, doing efficient work. nearly a third of a century he has devoted to teaching, dividing his time almost equally between the seminary and the institute. dr. bannister is one of nature's noblemen, and his membership in any conference is an honor to the body. the wisconsin conference has recognized his worth, and has sent him three times as one of her delegates to the general conference, and on one occasion was pleased to put him at the head of the list. but he is not the property of a conference; he belongs to the whole church, and is the peer of his brethren in any convocation she may assemble. the general conference met in buffalo, n.y., in may, . the agitation known as the nazarite movement was then raging through western new york, and it was understood that several cases would come before the general conference on appeal from the expelled members of the genesee conference. i was requested to go down to the troubled district and look the ground over before the opening of the conference. i did so, but found the movement too far advanced to avoid a rupture of the societies in many of the charges. several of the men who had taken an appeal had stultified themselves and vitiated their appeals, by forming societies on the basis of the new movement; and though they disclaimed all intention to establish another church, the formation of these societies, it was held, could be interpreted in no other way. having thus become members of another church their appeals, which contemplated their restoration to the former church, could not be entertained. but the great question before the body was the new rule on slavery. at the beginning, the subject was given to one of the large committees, of which the writer was a member. the late bishop kingsley was the chairman, and the committee met almost daily for three weeks. the report to the general conference was made to cover the whole ground, and accepted the basis which had been advocated so long by the wisconsin conference. on its presentation a long discussion followed, and it was believed that the requisite two-thirds vote would be obtained. but judge of our surprise when, on taking the vote, we found the measure had been lost by a few votes, and these had been mostly given by the delegation of the troubled district in western new york. but though the majority were thus defeated in their effort to change the general rule, they passed a chapter that declared it to be unchristian to hold slaves, as well as to traffic in them. the war, however, soon followed, and the "logic of events," disposed of the slavery question. at this conference i was elected a member of the general mission committee at new york, which rendered it necessary for me to visit the city annually for four years. the conference of was held sept. th, at janesville, bishop scott presiding. at this session the conference received rev. i.l. hauser, and he was sent as a missionary to india. brother hauser is of austrian, german and french descent. his mother's family were german, and the hauser name is over six hundred years old in vienna, austria. his grandmother on his father's side was directly descended from one of the huguenot families driven out of france by the revocation of the edict of nantes. coming to america, the family settled in pennsylvania, where brother hauser was born, in . his family came to wisconsin and settled at delavan in . he graduated from lawrence university in . during his senior year he was president of the college missionary society, and when writing to rev. dr. durbin, requesting him to preach the annual sermon at commencement, he stated that he would soon be through college and be ready for duty, but he did not know just what it was, and wished advice. the reply came for him to send the name of the pastor of the church. the names of rev. m. himebaugh, pastor, and rev. dr. knox, one of the professors, were sent. three days after his graduation, having reached his home, he received a letter from bishop simpson, asking him to come at once to evanston. from there the bishop sent him to the erie conference, then in session at erie, penn., where he was ordained and appointed to the mission in india. returning to wisconsin, he was united in marriage with miss jeannette shepherd, of kenosha, sept. th. starting for their field of labor, they sailed from boston on the vessel sea king, and after a tedious and stormy voyage of one hundred and thirty-eight days, they reached calcutta. from there, after an eleven days' journey of one thousand and three miles up the valley of the ganges, they arrived at bijnour, forty-five miles from where the river ganges flows out of the mountains into the plains of india. here they labored six years, their field comprising a district of nineteen hundred square miles, with a population of nearly one million, being fifty-four miles from the nearest mission station. four schools were organized, in which twenty teachers were employed, and six languages were used in the various studies. when the schools were first started not two natives in the district could speak english, but after six years nearly six hundred had been taught in the schools to both read and speak it. regular services in the chapel, such as preaching, sunday school, class and prayer meetings, were held in the urdu language for the native christian church. brother hauser also conducted the church of england service each sabbath morning for five years, for the few english residents stationed there, as they had no chaplain. besides studying the several languages of the country, preaching in the bazaars and other public places to tens of thousands of people, instructing the native preachers and teachers, looking after and giving employment to the native christians, he was appointed by the publishing committee of the mission to translate the discipline into the urdu language, having the honor of making the first translation of that book into any eastern tongue. but in the midst of his labors, sickness fell upon himself and family. diptheria attacked himself, his wife, and two of his children. one little girl died of that disease, and shortly after another from fever. brother hauser's throat became seriously affected, and he was compelled to retire from the work. with his family, he made a tour of several months through the himalaya mountains, to within eight miles of the borders of thibet. in this tour he was not unfrequently twenty thousand feet above the sea, but failing to recover his health, he, in , returned to the united states, after an absence of eight years. since his return, he has devoted his labor to the publication of the christian statesman, the only protestant religious paper published in wisconsin. being undenominational, the paper, patronized by all the protestant churches, has attained a wide circulation. brother hauser is a man of great energy, and is doing a grand work for the churches of wisconsin. mrs. hauser is a lady of very superior talent. in their mission field she took her full share of the work, and since her return, she has not only been one of the best contributors to the statesman, but has largely identified herself with the woman's foreign missionary society work in the state. both on the platform, and in the general work of the society, she holds a high rank. and in addition to this work, she is now preparing a volume of sketches of women in heathen lands. at the close of the preceding year, the summerfield quarterly conference requested my appointment to the pastorate of that station. the bishop at first was inclined to grant the request, but finally came to the conclusion that i ought to remain on the district. this left the charge to be supplied, and i secured the services of rev. j.e. wilson, then of ohio, but who had formerly served milwaukee, as stated in a preceding chapter. summerfield was just in the midst of her financial embarrassment. the indebtedness was about fifteen thousand dollars, and threatened to overwhelm the charge. but the good brethren were steadfast, and through great labor and sacrifice, aided by rev. s.c. thomas, succeeded in meeting their obligations. brother wilson rendered effective service, but at the close of the year returned to his home in ohio. rev. j.c. robbins was appointed this year to the spring street station. brother robbins entered the north indiana conference in . his appointments were winchester, plymouth, clinton, hagerstown, williamsburg, knightstown, doublin and lewisville. he was transferred to the wisconsin conference in , and stationed at north ward, fond du lac. his subsequent appointments were waupun, berlin and empire. the year opened finely, and during the winter brother robbins held a protracted meeting, which resulted in the conversion of many souls. but the society met with a severe loss this year, in the destruction of their church by fire. brother robbins remained a second year at spring street, and again enjoyed a good revival. after leaving the city, he has been stationed at racine, waukesha, sheboygan falls, waupun, berlin, green bay, hart prairie, sharon and footville. at the present writing, he is at the last named place, seeking to gather sheaves for the master. this year intense excitement prevailed throughout the country. the presidential election, which placed abraham lincoln at the head of our national affairs, occurred in november. and during the following months, the rebellion was taking form in the southern states, but did not culminate in open rupture until the middle of april. but before stating the position of the conference and church in the pending struggle, it will be proper to refer to the causes which produced the conflict. in the settlement of the united states, two distinct types of society planted themselves in the two great centres of the atlantic coast. the one made new england the theater of development, and the other the eastern cordon of the southern states. from the first center, the population moved westward through new york, pennsylvania, and the prairie states, to the mississippi. from the other, the settlements extended through the savannahs of the south to the gulf. the emigrants in the north were mainly those who came to the western world to find an asylum from the religious persecutions to which they had been subjected at home. in the south, society was largely established under the sanctions of royalty. these two facts will account for the radical differences existing between the people of the two sections. in the north, society very naturally accepted the political doctrines of personal equality and universal freedom. in the south, the people as naturally adhered to their aristocratic ideas, and held to the doctrine of privileged classes. the two types of society, thus placed side by side, were now given an open field, in which the contest for supremacy could not long be delayed. in geographical position, it would seem that the advantage was decidedly with the south. and the same may be said of the patronage bestowed by the home governments. but notwithstanding the high mountain ranges, the deep forests, and the sterile coasts of new england, her people cut their way through every obstacle, and soon stood face to face with their aristocratic neighbors. a collision of ideas was now inevitable. the south, quick to discover the unheralded force of yankee character, took the alarm and declared that "mason and dixon's line" should divide between her and her neighbor. here was deposited the first egg in the nest, from which has been hatched the terrible brood of vipers which, under the name of "state rights," has involved the country in a most desolating war. it was on this line that calhoun planted his standard when he sought to inflame the south against the north. and it was on this fatal line that his followers, thirty years after, sought to overturn the decisions of the ballot-box, and establish a southern confederacy. with what result, the record of the conflict affords an answer. on the th of april, , the rebels opened fire on fort sumter, and on the th major anderson and his brave men were compelled to surrender their stronghold. as the news of this attack and surrender swept along the telegraphic wires throughout the north, a most intense patriotism awoke in the heart of every loyal citizen. the people assembled on the corners of the streets, in halls, in places of business, and in short, at every convenient place of resort, to discuss the situation, and feed the flames of patriotism. everywhere men and money were offered to support the government, without stint. the press teemed with burning words, and the pulpit was outspoken in characterizing the rebellion and vindicating the government. the writer was in milwaukee when the news of the surrender of fort sumter reached the city. on sabbath, april st, i preached a sermon, from which the following extract is taken. i quote from rev. mr. love's "history of wisconsin in the war." "but, ladies and gentlemen, the war is inevitable. its coming may be hastened or retarded by the shaping of events during the next thirty days, but that war is upon us, and a civil war, of a most frightful character and most alarming proportions, is to my mind no longer a question. you can no more prevent it than you can stay the leaping floods of niagara, or ¸quench the king of day in the palm of your hand. it is the legitimate offspring of an 'irrepressible conflict' of ideas as antagonistic as light and darkness, as diametrically opposed to each other as right and wrong, truth and error. the bible declaration, that god hath made of one blood all the nations of men to dwell on all the face of the earth, so beautifully set forth in our declaration of independence, and teaching the great lesson of universal equality and universal freedom, forms the corner-stone of our institutions. but a plague spot is found in the opposing doctrine of caste and privileged classes, which finds illustration in american slavery. this war of principles has already culminated in a collision at fort sumter, and it would be contrary to all history to arrest the tide of war at this stage. the antagonism is too direct, and the conflict too heated to quench the flame till rivers of blood shall pass over it. the act of the south in firing on sumter is none other than a rebellion, and that of the most inexcusable and wicked character, against the best government on earth; and i am free to confess that i am filled with horror when i contemplate the result of this suicidal act on their part, an act that must lead to years of war, as far as human ken can see, and the most fearful desolations in its train. but, gentlemen, there is no alternative. the glove is thrown to us, and we must accept it. if our principles are right, and we believe they are, we would be unworthy of our noble paternity if we were to shrink from the issue. let there, then, be no shrinking from the contest. the battle is for human liberty, and it were better that every man should go down, and every dollar be sacrificed, than that we should transmit to the coming millions of this land other than a legacy of freedom. were it not that good men have gone down into the dust and smoke of the battle, there would not be to-day a government on the face of the globe under which a good man could well live. and since god in his providence has brought us to this hour, i trust that by his help we shall not prove unworthy of the trust--the noblest ever given to man--committed to our keeping. there can be no question as to the result. we shall triumph, and with the triumph we shall win a glorious national destiny." the next conference session was held in fond du lac sept. , , bishop baker presiding. the session was one of unusual excitement. the war had been begun, the terrible bull run defeat had occurred, and already seven regiments of our brave boys had gone to the front. and with the seventh, one of our own members, rev. s.l. brown, had gone as chaplain, while several others were either in the ranks or looking in the same direction. in the matter of furnishing men, wisconsin was already ahead of the call made upon her, but such was the devotion of her people to the old flag, that ten other regiments could have been sent during the year. at this session, the conference adopted a very able report, written by rev. j.h. jenne, on the state of the country, showing a deep interest in the issue before the nation, and pledging her unwavering support to the government. brother jenne entered the traveling connection in maine, and came to the wisconsin conference by transfer in . his first appointment was agent of the lawrence university. his next appointment was presiding elder of appleton district, where he remained four years. his subsequent appointments have been janesville, janesville district, lake mills, hart prairie, allen's grove, union grove, lyons, and waupun. at the present writing he is on his second year at the last named place. brother jenne is an able minister of the new testament. he is a man of large brain and profound research. well versed in all the questions of the day, as well as in the writings of the fathers, he is able to furnish a high standard of pulpit labor. he is a, true man, has a genial spirit, and to persons who can strike his plane of thought he is companionable. at this conference i was returned to the district for a fourth year, and rev. s.c. thomas was appointed to the summerfield church. brother thomas entered the erie conference in , and, before coming to wisconsin by transfer in , had been stationed at conneautville, geneva, ravenna, willoughby, and fredonia, besides serving two years as agent of the alleghany college. after coming to wisconsin, he had served spring street, platteville, jackson street, and had been agent of the lawrence university for five years. he now remained two years at summerfield, when he returned again to the agency of the university. in he was made presiding elder of the milwaukee district, where he remained four years. he next served four years as presiding elder of the janesville district, when he was appointed to fort atkinson. at the present writing he is at lyons. this outline completes a record of nearly a quarter of a century of labor in wisconsin. brother thomas is a man of good business habits, a careful administrator, and a good preacher. he loves the theology and economy of the church for which he has so long expended his energies. he is wise in counsel, closely attentive to all the trusts committed to his keeping, and has a host of friends. rev. george c. haddock, pastor at waukesha, was received into the conference the previous year, had been at port washington one year, where he had been a supply a part of the previous year, and was now appointed to waukesha. he remained two years, and did a good work. during the first year, the new stone church was built in the place of the old frame building that had been burned during the former year. and during the winter following, the charge was blessed with a good revival, and among the fruits gathered into the church, was our second daughter, then ten years of age. after leaving waukesha, brother haddock's appointments have been clinton, oshkosh, ripon, appleton, division street, fond du lac; fond du lac district, and racine, where he is laboring at this writing. brother haddock is a man of mark. early in life he acquired the printer's trade, and subsequently devoted several years to the business of editing and publishing secular papers. soon after his conversion he entered the ministry, and in less than two years he was received into the conference. during the fifteen years of his connection with the conference, he has been an earnest and successful laborer, making full proof of his ministry. brother haddock has a large intellectual development, a warm heart, an eloquent tongue, and an intense spiritual activity. what he does must be done at once, and done thoroughly. he has an ardent hatred of shams, and despises all clap-trap. both in sermons and debate, he strikes home, and woe be to the luckless pate that has the temerity to dash under his well-aimed strokes. and yet under all this seeming severity, there dwells a spirit as kind and manly as ever throbbed in a human bosom. during this, the closing year of my term on the district, my labors were very extended. besides the regular duties of a large district, i added that of aiding in raising regiments for the war. at all suitable times and places, i held war meetings, as they were called, and addressed the people, often finding immense crowds congregated in groves and other convenient localities. it was in connection with these services that i was nominated for the colonelcy of a religious regiment, to be raised out of the churches of the city. but such were my responsibilities at home, where the government needed all the support it could obtain, it was deemed inadvisable for me to accept. and on further thought it was considered better for the service to avoid such distinctive organizations. during my term on the district, the annual camp meeting at brookfield greatly prospered. permanent tents were erected, and the meeting gave considerable promise of stability. and on these grounds from year to year many persons, were brought into the liberty of the gospel. chapter xxi. conference of .--the war.--position of the conference.--rev. j.m. snow.--appointed again to spring street.--dr. bowman.--changes.--rev. p.s. bennett.--rev. c.s. macreading.--official board.-the new church enterprise.--juvenile missionary society.--conference of .--rev. p.b. pease.--rev. george fellows.--rev. samuel fallows.--rev. r.b. curtis.--rev. d.h. muller.--third year.--pastoral work.--revival. visit to the army.--illness.--close of term. the conference of was held oct. st at kenosha, bishop janes presiding. the country was now in the full tide of war. during the year several members of the conference had gone out as chaplains, rev. h.c. tilton with the thirteenth regiment, rev. c.d. pillsbury with the twenty-second, and rev. samuel fallows with the thirty-second. this was the hour for brave words, and the wisconsin conference had them to give. nor was it in words alone that she was prepared to sustain the government. such was the patriotism of the body that her ranks might have been seriously depleted at any time, if it could have been done with safety to the interests of the country. but it was conceded that the government must now have a vigorous support at home. partisan feeling in the late canvass had greatly demoralized the people, and a strong moral influence was needed to rightly shape the tone of public sentiment. in fact, it was necessary throughout the struggle that the churches, under the lead of the clergy, should act the part of aaron and hur, in sustaining the government. the report adopted by the conference on the state of the country gave no uncertain expression of sentiment. assuming the position dictated by the most lofty patriotism, she pledged the country an unwavering support until the flag of the commonwealth should again wave in peaceful triumph over the entire land. recognizing human freedom as the issue in the conflict, she deemed it alike the duty of the citizen and the christian to prosecute the war. at this conference the death of rev. jonathan m. snow was announced, and his obituary placed upon the minutes. brother snow, after spending a short time in racine, entered the illinois conference in . his appointments were elgin, princeton, mount morris, geneva, washington, sylvania, troy, janesville, mineral point and madison. at the close of his labors at madison, in , he retired from the active work, but in , he was re-admitted and granted a superannuated relation. brother snow was a decisive man, earnest, energetic and persevering. he performed his full share of pioneer work, and deserves an honorable mention among the fathers of the conference, in compliance with the request of the spring street station, milwaukee, i was this year appointed to its pastorate, my term on the district having expired. at the earliest possible moment, i entered upon the work of my new field. but at the opening of the year we were called to pass under a cloud. i refer to the death of dr. bowman, the father of mrs. miller. the doctor had been compelled, through illness, to surrender his practice in iowa, and had now been with us three years. his death was peaceful, and his assurance triumphant. dr. bowman came to wisconsin in , residing, as we have seen, first at troy, and subsequently at waupun. in early life he was a skeptic, and continued in unbelief, until after his elevation to a judgeship in michigan. he was converted through the influence of his wife, and united with the methodist episcopal church. distinguished in his profession, reliable in his religious convictions, and devoted to the church, he was an arm of strength to the cause in its early struggles in the west. during the interval since my former pastorate in and the present, various changes had occurred at spring street. the society had lost two churches by fire, and summerfield charge had been formed. the successive pastors had been revs. s.c. thomas, chauncey hobart, p.s. bennett, milton rowley, c.s. macreading, e. robinson, j.m. walker, and j.c. robbins. to several of them reference has been made in former chapters. we will now refer to others. rev. p.s. bennett entered the black river conference in , and remained a member of that body until , when he was transferred to the wisconsin conference. among the several charges he filled in his old conference, were norfolk, bangor, brownville, salina, cleveland, van buren and red creek. in wisconsin he had been stationed at platteville, beloit, and waukesha. after leaving spring street, he was made presiding elder of the milwaukee district, where he remained four years. his subsequent appointments were racine, appleton, agent of lawrence university, green bay, and appleton district. at the close of his term on this district, he retired from active labor, having given to the church a long, devoted, and efficient service. brother bennett is well read in the literature of the church, and loves her doctrines with a "true heart, fervently." during his active labor he was faithful to every trust confided to his keeping, was a good pastor and a successful presiding elder. and at the present time, it needs only an attack upon the doctrines or usages of the church to bring him to the front in their defence. he is emphatically a true man. rev. c.s. macreading came from new england, where he had held leading appointments in the providence and new england conferences for many years. he had located, and had come west, seeking a field of labor. coming to milwaukee, he found the charge vacant, by the removal of the former pastor on account of affliction in his family, and was employed by the elder. he served his full term, and at its close the people were reluctant to part with him. brother macreading was a man of superior preaching talent; had an earnest spirit, and a warm heart. at spring street, the lord greatly blessed his labors in the conversion of souls, several of whom remain to this day to bless the church with their wise counsel and devoted services. in entering upon the labor of the year, it was my first concern to retrieve, if possible, the disaster which had befallen the society in the loss of the church. but to do this, it was deemed important to put every branch of the work in the best possible condition. in this endeavor i had the earnest co-operation of the official board, composed at this time of rev. t.t. greenwood, rev. edwin hyde, and messrs. john h. van dyke, j.b. judson, a.j.w. pierce, walter lacy, cornelius morse, daniel petrie, jonathan crouch, james seville, h.w. goodall, thomas greenwood, o.h. earl, j.r. cocup, james cherry, and lawrence harrison. the spiritual condition of the society was excellent, and the class and prayer meetings were in a flourishing condition. the next thing to be done was to organize the financial department. in doing this i submitted a new plan, called the "card system," for raising the current expenses. the plan provided for monthly payments, and was operated through the use of cards. these were so prepared as to contain a subscription on one side, and rulings for entering the payments monthly on the other. the subscriptions were to be made at the beginning of the year, and each subscriber was expected to hand to the collector the several amounts promptly. the plan worked admirably, and placed the finances in a healthy condition. during the winter we held a series of meetings, which resulted in a considerable accession to the membership. but this success was only preparatory to the church enterprise before us. the hall that had been used as a chapel was small and inconveniently located. better accommodations must be had. by the middle of the year the necessity became so urgent that the pastor could hardly preach, pray or visit without making this subject his principal theme. finding that the financial basis was quite limited, it was decided to erect a business block, thereby providing for a subsequent income, should the enterprise entail an indebtedness upon the society. the precaution, however, was unnecessary, as the unparalleled liberality of the people not only met the demands of the enterprise, but provided for a former indebtedness. ground was broken for the new edifice on the fifteenth day of july, and the church was dedicated by rev. dr. eddy on the twenty-third of january following. the juvenile missionary society was formed this year, and thereby the sunday school became an efficient agency in raising missionary money. in our plan, each class in the school constituted a missionary society, taking a distinctive name. the gatherings of the class for a month went into a common fund, and was reported at the monthly meeting. this meeting was held on the last sabbath of each month, and was usually made an occasion of special interest. the year now closing had been full of work. besides my regular labor, and the responsibilities of the church enterprise, i had rendered considerable service in raising regiments for the war, by delivering addresses in various portions of the state. from the beginning of the conflict, i greatly desired to go forward with the brave boys and share with them the burdens and perils of the camp and field. but it was the view of many of my friends, and especially of the central war committee of the state, that i was doing a better service for my country at home, in seeking to shape public sentiment, than i could render by leading a regiment in the field. accepting their judgment, i endeavored to fulfil my mission to the best of my ability in the field to which i seemed to be specially called. the conference of was held oct. st, at waukesha, and was presided over by bishop scott. the body again adopted a strong report in support of the government. at this conference delegates to the general conference were again elected. they were h. bannister, s.c. thomas, c.d. pillsbury and m. himebaugh. at the close of the session i was returned to spring street. my fellow pastors in the city were revs. p.b. pease and george fellows. brother pease entered the wisconsin conference at its session in fond du lac, sept. st, . his appointments had been aztalan, wauwatosa, palmyra, appleton, kenosha, and beloit. he remained two years at summerfield. his subsequent appointments have been spring street, appleton district, and janesville district, where at the present writing he is doing a good-work. brother pease has a clear head, a sound understanding, and positive convictions. his pulpit ministrations are impressive and practical, his administration wise and reliable, and his intercourse with the people agreeable and spiritual. wherever he has labored he has left a record of ability and fidelity. brother fellows entered the wisconsin conference in , in the same class with brother pease. he was stationed at wauwatosa, grafton, hartford, oconomowoc, beaver dam, and kenosha. he located in , was re-admitted in , and appointed to asbury the same year. here he had been engaged in the erection of a new church. during this year the building was completed, and the old church changed into a parsonage. the church was dedicated by rev. dr. eddy, assisted by rev. dr. tiffany. in brother fellows located, and for two years served madison station. he returned to the conference in , and was appointed to oconomowoc. his subsequent fields of labor were waukesha, neenah, menasha, and cotton street, fond du lac. in he accepted a bible agency, and in was appointed presiding elder of waupaca district. brother fellows is a man of energy, and will doubtless make an efficient presiding elder. on the spring street charge the new year opened auspiciously. the accessions of the former year, in connection, with the better church accommodations, had given to the work a broader basis, and afforded the promise of wider usefulness. from month to month throughout the year, the stakes were strengthened and the cords lengthened. and at its close there was a general feeling of grateful satisfaction. in the conference was held oct. th at oshkosh, bishop scott presiding. at this session rev. samuel fallows was elected secretary. brother fallows, after his graduation from the state university, devoted several years to the profession of teaching, in connection with the galesville university, in the northwestern part of the state. he came to the wisconsin conference in , and was stationed at oshkosh. before the expiration of the year, however, he went out as a chaplain in the army, in the service of the thirty-second regiment, and at the conference of , he received his appointment to that post. having returned from the army his next appointment, in , was appleton station. he was reappointed to the same charge in , but before the expiration of the year he became interested in raising a regiment of one hundred days' men, and went out as lieutenant colonel. he graduated to the colonelcy while in the service, and was brevetted as brigadier general on his return home. the war having closed before the expiration of the conference year, he returned to the regular work, and received his appointment in to the summerfield station. after serving three years at summerfield, he was appointed in to spring street. here he drew to his ministry a large congregation, and had an extensive revival, thereby hastening the erection of a new church. the building during the second year was enclosed, but was not completed until the close of the following year. brother fallows enjoyed a successful pastorate at spring street, but before the expiration of his second year, he was appointed by the executive of the state to the position of superintendent of public instruction. he remained in this position until his second term expired, jan. , , when having been elected president of the illinois wesleyan university, he was transferred to the illinois conference. brother fallows was a man whom his brethren delighted to honor. though still a young man comparatively, he had served his conference as secretary nine years, and had been sent once as a delegate to the general conference. he is a man of superior culture, pleasant voice, and entertaining address. his genial spirit is a perpetual sunshine, and his conversational interviews, the fragrance of summer. in his addresses and sermons, the beautiful predominates. he was born an orator, and he has never been able to shake off the enchantment. it is not his fault that he is generally popular. at this session the conference adopted another report of the state of the country. it was full of patriotism, pledging an unwavering support to the government. the chairman of the committee was rev. r.b. curtis. brother curtis entered the maine conference in , and in that conference and the east maine he filled the following appointments: bingham, corinth, onoro, frankfort, searsport, brick chapel, bangor, bangor district, and again brick chapel. he was transferred to the wisconsin conference in , and was appointed to janesville. his next appointment was delavan, where he remained three years. while here his health failed, and at the ensuing conference he was compelled to take a superannuated relation. he passed from the earthly to the heavenly home, in appleton, may st, . brother curtis was a man of rare endowments and sublime piety. in his mental development, there was an almost absolute equipoise between the imagination and the logical powers. in his logical dissections of error and defence of truth, a keener blade has seldom, if ever, leaped from its scabbard. under his masterly imagery his audiences were sometimes chained to their seats, as if held by the toils of an enchantment. with such extraordinary elements of popular address, it is not surprising that he held a high rank in the pulpit. nor was he deficient in his other qualifications as a minister of christ. when brother curtis fell from the walls of zion, it might have been truly said, "a prince in israel has this day exchanged the earthly for the heavenly crown." during this year rev. d.h. muller was pastor of asbury church. brother muller entered the conference in , coming from the biblical school at evanston. his first appointment was menasha, and his second oshkosh. and from the last named he came to asbury. he remained two years, was successful and highly esteemed; but at the close of his term he took a transfer to the genesee conference. he has held leading appointments in that conference up to the present, and has also graduated to the dignity of a presiding elder. brother muller is a man of superior talent, genial spirit and fine conversational powers. his name is fragrant in all the charges he served in wisconsin and the conference regretted his transfer from the state. i was again returned to spring street, and the salary was now placed at thirteen hundred dollars. with the new church full of people, with every department of church work thoroughly organized and in successful operation, i was now permitted to devote my labor to the regular pastoral work. as far as possible, the forenoons were given to my study and the afternoons to pastoral visiting. in a city like milwaukee, this last department of labor is absolutely indispensable. it is not intended in this form of expression to intimate that it can be dispensed with in any other field, for it cannot, but simply to indicate the impossibility of caring rightly for the souls of men in a great city, if this form of labor shall be neglected. in a large city, the population is constantly changing, and unless the pastor shall be on the alert in looking up the people, members of his own flock, to say nothing of others, will drop out of sight. soon they will feel that the band of union between them and the church has been severed, and they have become outcasts. the result of such a state of things, will be either recklessness of life, or a seeking of other church alliances. in either case, the charge itself suffers loss. in addition to this class of cases that need the eagle eye of the pastor, there is a constant influx of population. these coming people, in large numbers, will fail to find churchly affiliations unless there is some one who shall seek them out at their new homes, and invite them to attend the means of grace. i know it will be said, "let the members of the churches do this." i grant that the open field for this kind of labor is inviting to the church members, but suppose they do not enter it, what then? shall the work be left undone? besides, the work can be done effectively only, through systematic arrangement, and this feature can only be given to it through the supervision of the pastor. he only can know the entire ground, and become the nucleus around which the membership will be able to rally. it would greatly aid the pastor in his work, if all new-comers would immediately report themselves at the parsonage or the church. but as all such are usually burdened with many cares and perplexities during the first weeks or months in making a new home, the only way to reach the desired result seems to be through the vigilant maintenance of pastoral visiting. during the winter i held a protracted meeting, which gave an addition of forty-seven probationers. i felt the fatigue very much, and at the close of the meeting found it necessary for a time to abridge my labors. in march following, the official board granted me leave of absence to engage for six weeks in the service of the christian commission. i was assigned to service at city point, and along the lines of gen. grant's army, before richmond and petersburgh. leaving milwaukee march th, and passing through chicago, pittsburgh, and philadelphia, i entered the james river at fortress monroe, and reached city point on the st. after calling at the headquarters of gen. grant, and preaching once in the chapel at the headquarters of the christian commission, i went along the line of the army, first to the north of point of rocks, twenty miles, and then to the south, twenty miles, as far as hatch's run, making forty miles in all. in these excursions i preached in the several chapels as opportunity offered, and rendered such assistance as i was able, in making the necessary preparations for the forward movement of the army, which was expected to occur in a few days. but i soon found that the exposures along the front were too great for my system, in its enfeebled condition. i contracted a severe cold, which rendered it necessary to leave the lines. i returned to city point, and was advised to leave at once for washington, where i could obtain the desired medical treatment. i took the steamboat the very afternoon the army was put in motion. by the time gen. grant had taken gen. lee, i had taken washington. the physicians here believed that my lungs were seriously compromised, and advised me to go to the seashore. i went immediately down to brooklyn, and became the guest of my cousin, col. j.t. hildreth. my family and friends at milwaukee at once became alarmed, and mrs. miller came down. but through skillful treatment, good nursing, and a kind providence, the indications soon changed for the better, and at the end of two months i was able to return to my people. on reaching the city the friends gave us a reception, and left us over two hundred dollars. i was able to resume my labors soon after, and the balance of the year passed pleasantly. i had now completed my full term of three years. during this time i had received into the church about two hundred members, and after allowing for removals and other changes, the net increase had been about half that number. though the people had been greatly taxed in building their new church, it was found that the benevolent collections had considerably increased. the missionary, collection advanced during the first year from seventy-five dollars to two hundred and twenty. the second year it was two hundred and sixty-two, and the third, three hundred and forty. the sunday school had now reached an aggregate of four hundred scholars, and the library six hundred volumes. among the accessions of the term, there were several who gave considerable financial strength to the charge. chapter xxii. conference of .--the war closed.--lay delegation the next question. rev. george chester.--rev. romulus o. kellogg.--missionary to china.--rev. l.n. wheeler.--appointed to fond du lac district.--marriage of our eldest daughter.--removal to fond du lac.--rev. t.o. hollister.--state of the district.--rev. j.t. woodhead.--waupun.--rev. d.w. couch.--lamartine.--rev. i.s. eldridge.--horicon.--rev. walter mcfarlane. the conference of was held oct. th in summerfield church, milwaukee, bishop baker presiding, and assisted by bishop ames. rev. samuel fallows was elected secretary, and revs. wm. p. stowe, e.d. farnham and r.w. bosworth assistants. the relentless war that had raged for four years had now closed. the clouds had lifted from the fields of conflict, and the conference was now able to take note of the past and anticipate the future of the country. the report adopted at this session, presented by the committee on the state of the country, was a masterly document. it recognized the fact that the wisconsin conference, since its organization, had exhibited a bold and manly opposition to american slavery. that the recent rebellion, aiming its blows at the government, bought by the blood of revolutionary patriots, was the outgrowth of the institution of slavery. and that the conference, in common with the laity, and loyal citizens of the north generally, had acquitted herself nobly, in standing by the government in its hour of trial, and, having rendered this service as a christian duty, she had nothing to take back. looking out upon the future, she also anticipated the coming day when equal rights should be accorded to all, irrespective of color or nationality. the question of slavery and the frightful war it had entailed upon the country having passed away, the conference now took up the subject of lay delegation. and since the subject is new to many, it may not be improper to devote to it a brief examination. the question has been raised, "how came it to pass that in the organization of the methodist episcopal church, the laity were not associated with the ministry in the conferences?" the question is a legitimate one, and deserves a considerate answer. it should be remembered that the establishment of the church was rather a growth than an organization. this one fact accounts, doubtless, for the peculiar feature referred to. had there existed at the outset a large body of christians, including ministers and laymen, awaiting an organization, at the time mr. wesley began his labors, it is possible that he might have so combined them in appropriate relations as to secure a united responsibility. but such was not the state of the case. in the strict sense of the word, mr. wesley had no church, and no people out of which to organize one. and it is possible that he began his labors without an expectation of organizing a church. his great concern, overleaping every other consideration, was to save souls. in this work he was ready to call to his aid such instrumentalities as gave the best promise of the desired result. it was but natural that, whenever he met a congenial spirit, there should be an affiliation. in such case a unity of effort would necessarily follow. in this manner there grew up around mr. wesley a company of men, who were recognized as his helpers. with the multiplication of these assistant laborers, it became advisable to reduce the co-operative effort to a systematic plan. to adopt a plan of labor and give it efficiency, the organization of conferences became a necessity. the first conferences were composed of mr. wesley and his helpers, and could not embody laymen, as no church had been organized. this state of things continued during the life time of mr. wesley in england, and as he gave the church in the united states its first organization, the same system was introduced here. subsequently, as the work extended and the conferences multiplied, it was but natural that they should all take the same character. nor would there have been any special need for a change, perhaps, if there had been no changes in the character of the work to be done. but with the erection of churches, the founding of schools, and the creation of the book concern and church literature, the conferences, having these interests in charge, need the presence and aid of laymen. at the general conference of , action had been taken inviting the membership to vote on the subject, and also to elect provisional delegates to the general conference of . the action of the wisconsin conference fully endorsed the movement and the body faithfully complied with its provisions. at this session the conference made a record of the death, of three of its members, revs. henry requa, george chester and romulus o. kellogg. to the first named, reference has been made in former chapters. brother chester came to this country in , from england, where he had been converted under the labors of rev. james caughey. he was received into the wisconsin conference in , and was appointed to prairie la crosse. his subsequent appointments were willow river, madison circuit, waterloo, columbus, burnett, fox lake, footville, evansville, and shopiere. at the last named place he was attacked with typhoid fever, and, after an illness of three weeks, passed away in holy triumph, with the words, "glory! glory! glory!" upon his lips. brother chester was a true man, and a successful minister of the lord jesus christ. brother kellogg came with his parents to milwaukee in . he prepared for college at rock river seminary, mount morris, graduated at the wesleyan university, conn., in , and served as professor of languages in the lawrence university for five years thereafter. he was received into the wisconsin conference in , and was appointed to fort atkinson. he was reappointed the second and third years, but, during the latter, his nervous system gave way under his devoted and trying labors, and he passed to the bright beyond. brother kellogg was a man of fine culture, genial spirit, faithful to every trust, and universally beloved by all who knew him. the conference at this session was again called upon to send one of its members abroad as a missionary. rev. l.n. wheeler was sent to china. he was presented at the conference with an album containing the photographs of the donors as a token of remembrance. the writer was selected to make the presentation speech, as he had known him from his childhood. brother wheeler, before he engaged in the ministerial work, devoted several years to editing and publishing secular papers. he entered the conference in , and had been stationed at two rivers, byron, empire, manitowoc, and sheboygan. having been advised with by the mission board at new york during the year, as to his qualifications, i was prepared to expect the appointment, fully persuaded that it would prove both creditable to the conference and profitable to the mission field. while abroad brother wheeler had charge for some time of the mission press. he rendered efficient service in the china mission during the seven years of his absence. but, on account of failing health, he was compelled to return in . he is now stationed again at manitowoc. he is a man of superior talent, and is greatly esteemed. i had now completed my term of three years on the spring street station, and my next appointment was very much in doubt. i had been solicited to accept invitations to several stations, and also the fond du lac district, but in each case i assured the good brethren that i deemed it best to let the bishop and his cabinet decide without prejudice, and assign me work where they believed i could serve the general cause to the best advantage. had i allowed myself a preference, it would have been some quiet station of moderate responsibility, where i could have rallied my enfeebled health. besides, i had a doubt whether i ought to be put on a district so soon again, after having completed two full terms before i reached my fortieth year. but it is vain to speculate in advance. at the close of the conference, i found myself appointed presiding elder of fond du lac district. the appointment was a surprise to both myself and family. but accepting the situation as a legitimate feature of the itinerancy, we entered at once upon the needed preparations for a removal to fond du lac. the removal, however, was to be preceded by an event that, by separating the family, would render the change exceedingly trying. i refer to the marriage of our eldest daughter to capt. frank p. lawrence, of racine, thereby breaking a link out of the chain that had so long and pleasantly bound us together in the family circle. but, having previously learned that life's difficulties are best overcome by turning towards them a brave bearing, we prepared for the nuptials. on the morning of the th of october a few friends came in at the breakfast hour, and our daughter passed into the keeping of another. though fully satisfied with the arrangement, the occasion imposed upon me the most difficult duty of my life. the ceremony was performed in connection with the family devotions, and quite unmanned me. assembled in the parlor, i took my usual place to lead the devotions. the scriptures were read, and my daughter presided as usual at the piano. thus far everything maintained its accustomed order. but when we knelt in prayer, and i closed my eyes to all visible things, the invisible came trooping in throngs to my already burdened thought. then came the vivid recollection of the many happy years we had spent together as a family, the many sweet hours we had spent together in that parlor, with music and song, in which our dear daughter had ever been the central figure, and the now sad fact of an immediate separation. the chain must now be broken, and its then brightest link snatched away to gladden another home, while our own circle must be broken forever. with these thoughts rushing upon me, it is not a matter of surprise that i was quite overwhelmed with feeling, and found utterance almost impossible. how i passed through the prayer and the ceremony that followed, has never been quite clear to me, but i was told that nothing was omitted that could be deemed essential to the occasion. the wedding party was soon after dismissed with our blessing, and we at once began the preparations for our own trip to the cars, to occur in the afternoon of the same day. we reached fond du lac at nightfall, and were kindly entertained by rev. j.t. woodhead and his family. the following day we were invited to the pleasant home of our old friend, c.o. hurd, who, with his most excellent family, gave us a kindly greeting and cared for us until the arrival of our goods. my predecessor on the district was rev. theron o. hollister, a man "full of faith and the holy ghost." brother hollister was received into the conference at its session in baraboo in , and his first charge was summit. his subsequent fields of labor were fort atkinson, lake mills, greenbush, sheboygan falls, and fond du lac, where he succeeded to the district. at the close of his term on the district he was appointed to oconomowoc, next to waukesha, and the year following to hart prairie. here his health utterly broke down, and at the following session of the conference in , he was compelled to take a superannuated relation. he now removed to salem, in kenosha county, where he died march , , aged forty-seven. brother hollister was a man of robust frame, and, generally, good health. he was an earnest man, and whatever he did was done with all his strength, of both mind and body. with limited early opportunities, and too intensely occupied in after years with the practical labor of the ministry, to retrieve the loss he had sustained, he did not aspire to a knowledge of books. but in all the active labor of leading souls to christ, he was a workman who needed not to be ashamed. he swept over the district like a storm, "instant in season and out of season," laying his strong hand on every part of the work, and pushing it forward. and no doubt it was the work that he did on the district that laid the foundation of the disease which terminated his useful life. an overtaxed brain fell a prey to mental disability, and our good brother went to his reward. fond du lac was under the pastoral care of rev. j.t. woodhead. this excellent brother entered the conference in , and before coming to fond du lac, had been stationed at greenbush, berlin and ripon. he was now on his third year in his present field. brother woodhead's early opportunities were limited, but with great devotion to his calling, he had carefully improved his time after entering the ministry. he was accepted by his people as a man of rare excellences, happily blending in beautiful harmony both faith and works. in the pulpit, his manner is not always graceful, but it is never disagreeable. his discourses abound with evangelical truth, set off usually in fine delineations of scriptural scenes and characters. he has extraordinary dramatic talent, and only needs the culture of the schools, in addition to his present gifts and graces, to place him in the front rank as a speaker. brother woodhead is one of the best pastors i have ever known. the fond du lac district at this time numbered twenty charges. to visit each quarterly on the sabbath was impossible, unless i chose to hold two on adjacent charges, the same day. and this plan i did not deem advisable, believing that it tends to break down quarterly meetings altogether, by dividing the interest. i chose rather to visit each charge regularly semi-annually, and the feebler ones more frequently, if possible. the intervening quarterly meetings were held by the pastors, except they chose to procure supplies. my first quarterly meeting, held at fond du lac, was an occasion of rare interest. having been granted license to preach, and sent into the itinerancy by these brethren, they were disposed to assert a special interest in the presiding elder. besides, the society, under the ministrations of brother woodhead, was in a happy spiritual condition, a satisfactory pledge of a good meeting. as it is my purpose to write up more particularly, as far as space will permit, the charges and ministers of the conference, than my own labors, i shall not undertake to follow in order my visits to the several charges. during the present year, as well as the three following, i shall simply refer to such items as will further this object, well knowing that the adoption of any other plan would involve the issue of several volumes instead of one. waupun came early on the list. many changes had occurred at waupun during the twenty years which had intervened since my pastorate in . i found a small frame church and one of the best parsonages in the conference. the society had become strong both financially and in numbers. i was happy indeed to meet old friends with whom i had labored in other years, and especially the converts of the early times, now grown to be pillars in the church. but with our rejoicing there also came the shadows of sadness. many had gone over the river. and since my visit, others still have gone, and among them, brother and sister william mcelroy. but they were ready. rev. d.w. couch was the pastor at waupun. he entered the conference in , and before coming to waupun had been stationed at bristol, pleasant prairie, geneva, and had also served as agent of the northwestern seaman's friend society. after leaving waupun his appointments have been janesville in the wisconsin conference, and mineral point in the west wisconsin. at the last conference he was appointed presiding elder of the madison district, where he is rendering effective service. brother couch is a very useful man, having unusual ability to adjust himself to such work as requires special adaptations. he has a great fund of anecdote, and is able to make a draft on this reserve whenever needed. he has special control of the purses of the people, and hence is in great requisition wherever there is a call for funds, and especially at church dedications. he is a pronounced success. at lamartine my quarterly meeting also revived old recollections. the charge now embraced rock river, where i formed a class in , and also the society that held their services, at an early day, in brother stowe's chapel. a church had now been built at lamartine, the centre of the charge, and also a parsonage. the charge was now in a flame of revival. with the praying band at rock river at one end of the circuit, and brother humiston and his devoted laborers at the other, an almost continuous revival was but the normal condition. but in addition, i now found the circuit under the charge of rev. i.s. eldridge, one of my old co-laborers at janesville. brother eldridge entered the conference in april, , and before coming to lamartine had been stationed at utter's corners, palmyra, wauwatosa, and byron. he was now on his second year, the charge having enjoyed during the former one great prosperity. after leaving lamartine, brother eldridge's appointments have been horicon and juneau, fox lake, brandon, sheboygan falls, burnett, and eagle. brother eldridge is yet in the vigor of his strength, and gives promise of many years of usefulness. while his great forte is revival work, he has mental and spiritual force enough to amply sustain every other department of a minister's obligation. during the earlier portion of his work, his incessant labor in protracted meetings greatly abridged his opportunities for study, but i presume in later years he has endeavored to retrieve the loss sustained. at this writing he is again at eagle, where his accessions are already climbing the second hundred. at horicon i found rev. walter mcfarlane, pastor of the horicon and juneau charge. this dear brother and his most estimable lady gave me a hearty welcome, and made me feel at home in a few moments. i found the charge in a prosperous condition, and the pastor in high esteem among the people. brother mcfarlane is a scotchman by birth. he entered the conference in , and was stationed at cascade. his following appointments were oconto, vinland, two rivers, and empire. he was now on his second year in his present charge. after leaving horicon, he was stationed at byron. while on this charge he and his good lady took great interest in fitting up the camp-meeting grounds of the fond du lac district. a fine preacher's stand was erected, comfortable seats were provided, and many permanent tents were built. the meetings during this period became far-famed and highly profitable. the great burden of looking after all local matters was sustained by this good brother, as the pastor of the charge, and the administration was always highly acceptable. after leaving byron, his appointments were winneconne, bristol, sylvania, and granville. in this last named charge, he is at this writing doing effective work. brother mcfarlane is well versed in theology and biblical criticism. he has a large fund of information on all subjects of general interest, and is able to make himself an interesting companion among the people. he has an intense dislike to the superficial, and is never satisfied with the examination of any subject until he can feel the firm foundation beneath him. in his sermons he seeks to give reliable information on specific subjects rather than spin glittering generalities. firm as the highlands of his native home, and balmy as her valleys, he is none other than a highly esteemed brother. chapter xxiii. conference of .--centenary year.--lay delegation.--reconstruction.--returned to fond du lac district.--seven sermons a week--rev. o.j. cowles.--beaver dam.--a good record.--fall river.--early history.--columbus.--rev. henry sewell.--conference of .--election of delegates.--cotton street.--rev. r.s. hayward.--rev. a.a. reed.--general conference.--conference of .--rev. t.c. wilson.--rev. h.c. tilton. rev. john hill.--rev. isaac searles.--rev. j.b. cooper.--an incident.--close of the term.--progress made. the conference of was held at ripon, bishop clark presiding. the secretaries were the same as the preceding year. the centenary of american methodism occurred this year, and the month of october had been set apart for the purposes of a celebration. the writer had been designated to preach a centenary sermon during the session of the conference, but as i was called to waupun to attend the funeral of my brothers's wife, on the day the services were to have been held, the good bishop kindly consented to occupy the pulpit for me. the collections during the centenary year were mostly given to educational purposes, the lawrence university, the garrett biblical institute, and the evansville seminary being the beneficiaries. the first named received perhaps fifteen thousand dollars. the subject of lay delegation again engaged the attention of the body. while fully sympathizing with the general movement, the conference anticipated the contemplated change by inviting the several district steward's meetings to elect three delegates from each district to visit the ensuing session of the annual conference, and co-operate with that body in its deliberations, as far as the polity of the church would permit. the invitation was accepted, and at the next session the delegates were cordially received. at this time the question of the ecclesiastical reconstruction of the south was beginning to agitate the church. the conference, always radical on all the great questions of the day, took advanced ground, and consistently adhered to its positions throughout the discussion. the subsequent history of the southern work has fully justified the action taken. with this session of the conference began the cabinet work of my third term as presiding elder. adhering to my former convictions, i favored only such changes in the appointments as were dictated by the law of the church and stern necessity. in connection with the appointments, an effort was made to secure my assignment to the station in fond du lac, but when it was known that a committee from the official board was in attendance upon the conference, the ministers and laymen of the district entered a vigorous remonstrance. the bishop kindly enquired whether i had any suggestions to make. i answered, "i have never interfered in making my own appointments; and it is too late to begin now. as you and the cabinet understand the case, having had a full representation from both sides, i will step aside and let you decide the matter." after an absence of an hour, i returned, and found my name still at the head of the district. at the close of the session i returned to fond du lac and entered upon another year of taxing labor. the work was growing rapidly, and it was necessary to reconstruct and enlarge several of the churches, and build others. in several localities we succeeded in a consolidation of the work, thereby making it possible to erect several churches. instead of maintaining feeble appointments at contiguous school houses, we found it better to combine two or more of them, and build a church in a central locality. in this way the mulleton, hingham, leroy, markesan, lake maria, and several other churches found an existence. during the winter season of this year, i was largely engaged with the several pastors in protracted meetings. and during the first half of the year, i preached on an average seven sermons a week. the pastors were a band of devoted and earnest workers, and the year was one of remarkable success. at fond du lac a charge of pastors occurred, as the term of the former pastor had expired. his successor was rev. o.j. cowles. a young man of excellent promise. he was a graduate of cornell college in , and of the garrett biblical institute in . he entered the conference the same year, and had been stationed at kenosha, berlin, and appleton. after his two years of service in fond du lac, he was stationed three years each at racine and oshkosh. brother cowles is a man of superior talent and excellent spirit. he is one of the rising men of the conference, and bids fair to take a front rank. at this writing he is stationed at whitewater, where he is in the midst of a gracious revival. beaver dam station was added this year to the district. beaver dam was settled by members of the presbyterian church, and hence its earliest religious services were held by the ministers of that denomination. the first methodist appointment was established by rev. a.p. allen in , being then pastor of waupun circuit as my successor. rev. henry requa, as before stated, was employed by the elder as his assistant. during the year these earnest laborers held a protracted meeting, which resulted in several conversions. the first class was formed by brother allen, and consisted of l.h. marvin, leader, mr. and mrs. peters, bennett gordon, and mrs. reuben dexter. brother marvin still resides at beaver dam. the meetings were held in l.h. marvin's cabinet shop, until other provision could be made. the first church, a frame building twenty-six by forty feet in size, was commenced by brother allen in the winter of and ' , and completed the following year by brother requa. the building was enlarged under the pastorate of rev. i.m. leihy in . under the pastorate of rev. a.a. reed in and , a large brick church was erected, the writer being invited to lay the corner-stone the first year, and preach the dedicatory sermon the second. during brother reed's pastorate a great revival also occurred, under the labors of mrs. maggie n. van cott, which added greatly to the strength of the church. at the present writing, the pastor is rev. isaac wiltse, of whom mention will be made in a subsequent chapter. fall river and columbus were assigned to the district this year from the janesville district. at the organization of the work they constituted one circuit, but had now grown to be independent charges. fall river society was organized in the log house of clark smith, on fountain prairie, by rev. stephen jones in , the locality being at the time connected with the old aztalan circuit. the members were rev. e.j. smith, of whom mention is made elsewhere, his wife, martha smith, clark smith, sarah smith, mr. and mrs. aaron e. houghton. brother e.j. smith was appointed leader. a log school house, the first built in the county, was erected soon after, and the meetings were transferred to it. the population grew rapidly, being attracted by the beautiful location, and in due time there was a strong society. under the energetic and effective labors of the leader and his talented lady, this society was instrumental in the conversion of many souls. in process of time a mill was built on the stream at fall river. a fine school house was soon after erected, and the meetings removed to it, as the locality had become more central than the one on the prairie. at the present writing, fall river holds a most respectable rank as a charge, has a good church, and a convenient parsonage. columbus was visited by rev. stephen jones in , he having been appointed to aztalan circuit the preceding autumn. he preached the first sermon in the log dwelling house of brigham campbell, but i am unable to fix the date. nor am i able to give the organization of the first class, but it is probable that during the early years the members in this locality were connected with the society on fountain prairie. in columbus was made a station, and rev. henry colman was appointed pastor. the society built their first church, a frame structure, in an unfortunate location, but have now displaced it by a fine brick edifice, which they have placed in the central portion of the village. it is one of the best churches in the interior of the state. the present pastor is rev. henry sewell, who entered the conference in . his appointments have been porter, edgerton and stoughton, orfordville, utter's corners, emerald grove and maxonville, sun prairie, lake mills, oconomowoc, and columbus. brother sewell is one of the most efficient men of the conference. at sun prairie, he built a ten thousand dollar church, and has succeeded in completing the enterprise at columbus. in revival work brother sewell has met with rare success, usually increasing the membership of his charges at least one hundred per cent. the conference of was held oct. d at beaver dam, bishop simpson presiding, and the same secretaries were re-elected. the action of the conference on the subject of lay delegation will appear in the following resolutions: "<i>resolved,</i> that we are in favor of the representation of the laity in annual and general conference." "<i>resolved</i>, that our delegates to the next general conference be instructed to use their influence in favor of such representation." having thus laid down the platform, the conference next proceeded to elect the delegates to the general conference, resulting in the choice of g.m. steele, w.g. miller, samuel fallows, henry bannister, and c.d. pillsbury. two other subjects specially engaged the attention of the conference at this session. i refer to the "sabbath question," and "ministerial education." appropriate resolutions were adopted, and measures taken to give efficiency to the timely expression of sentiment. my work on the district opened at cotton street, fond du lac. this charge, under the name of arndt street, or north fond du lac, had been merged in the division street station, and was now re-organized with rev. m.d. warner as pastor. a new church had been commenced during the preceding year, and it was now completed. the dedicatory services were conducted by the lamented dr. t.m. eddy. brandon was the next charge visited, the pastor being my old friend rev. r.s. hayward, whose acquaintance, it will be remembered, i made as an exhorter at brothertown. brother hayward entered the conference in , and had been stationed at waupaca, dartford, metomon, berlin, wausau, and sheboygan. he then served as presiding elder on the waupaca district a full term, and was subsequently stationed at vinland and omro. in all these fields he had acquitted himself creditably, and was now doing a good work at brandon. after leaving brandon, he has served north oshkosh, clemensville, menasha, utica and zion. at the last named he is now hard at work for the master. rev. a.a. reed, who had just completed a three years' term at brandon, was now at sheboygan falls. this charge was continuing to hold a fair rank in the conference, and during brother reed's pastorate received many accessions, and also improved the church property. brother reed entered the conference in . his appointments had been empire, lamartine, byron, greenbush, and brandon. at the close of a three years' term at sheboygan falls, he was sent to beaver dam, where he succeeded, as before stated, in erecting a fine church, and greatly multiplying the membership. his present field, the agency of the lawrence university, is one of great labor. but in this work, as well as in whatever may be assigned him, brother reed is a grand success, and will accomplish his task. the general conference met in the month of may of this year in chicago. during the session i was entertained by an old milwaukee friend, capt. j.c. henderson, long known on the lakes as the sabbath keeping captain. the two great questions that came before the body were lay delegation, and the admission of the delegates from the newly formed conferences in the south. both measures received the approval of the general conference, but as they were brought to the attention of the reader through the periodicals of the church, i need not burden these pages with a further reference to them. the conference of was held oct. st at racine, bishop ames presiding. the term of rev. joseph anderson on the waupaca district having expired, one of the young, men of the conference was appointed as his successor. i refer to rev. t.c. wilson. this promising brother graduated from the lawrence university in , and was admitted to the conference in . before being appointed to the district he had been stationed at east troy, clinton, and neenah. his labors on the district were highly appreciated, and, at the close of his term in , he was appointed presiding elder of the appleton district, where he is, at this writing, still employed in the good work. he is recognized as a man of thorough scholarship, a good preacher, and a successful laborer in the vineyard. at the close of the conference, the writer was returned to the fond du lac district for a fourth year. on the district there were but few changes, but among them was the bringing of two new men to fond du lac. rev. h.c. tilton, appointed to division street, entered the maine conference july st, . his appointments in that conference were mount desert, deer island, steuben, north penobscot and north bucksport. at the division of the conference he fell into east maine, and, before coming west, was stationed at frankfort, hampden, bangor, rockland and damariscotta. brother tilton came to the wisconsin conference by transfer in . his appointments have been summerfield, janesville, janesville district, racine district, asbury, division street. court street, janesville, and appleton. brother tilton is a veteran in the work, having been in the itinerancy nearly thirty-four years. having possessed a vigorous constitution and firm health, he has taken his full share of privation and hard work. his services have always been in special demand, and he has not spared himself. he is a man of vigorous intellect and a ready delivery, his pulpit efforts always commanding the attention of the people. at this writing he is building in appleton one of the best churches in the conference. rev. john hill entered the north indiana conference in . his appointments were elkhart, la grange, la grove, indianapolis, anderson, greenfield and fort wayne. he came to the wisconsin conference by transfer this year, and cotton street was his first charge. his next appointment was summerfield, milwaukee, and the last was bay view. here he was thrown from a wagon by the sudden starting of the horse, and, falling upon his head, received a severe injury, from which he died in twenty-four hours. brother hill was a man of small frame, but a large brain and a generous heart. his style of speech was clear, distinct and rapid. he could reason a question with great force, and could fringe the most commonplace subjects with wit and humor. he was a true man, a good preacher, and a faithful pastor. rev. isaac searles was this year stationed at brandon. he entered the rock river conference in , and was appointed to indian creek circuit. his subsequent appointments in that conference were sycamore, cedar rapids, rock island, union grove, and hazel green. in , at the division, he fell into the wisconsin conference. in wisconsin his appointments were dodgeville, lindon, platteville, madison district, fox lake, fall river, dartford, beaver dam district, watertown, waukesha, east troy, and now brandon. at this place his health failed, and, after lingering; until december th, , he was called to the father's house: above. his death was triumphant. his last words were, "jesus is mine, jesus is mine." "he saves me to the uttermost." "i am standing on the rock." thus passed away a. noble man, a true friend, and a veteran minister. rev. j.b. cooper was this year employed to supply byron charge. this excellent brother entered the traveling connection in the state of new york, where he filled several appointments, but, his health failing, he took a superannuated relation in , and came to janesville. in he rendered special service, as before stated, in the great revival of that year, and in re-entered the regular work in the wisconsin conference. his charges have been evansville, delavan, hart prairie, byron, randolph and rosendale, where he is stationed at the present writing. brother cooper is a good specimen of the itinerant preacher. his manner is affable, his spirit genial, and his hand diligent. in all his charges he is deservedly popular. at one of the quarterly meetings of this charge, i was approached, at the close of the morning services, by a gentleman who enquired whether i came from the state of new york. on learning that i did, he further enquired whether i attended, when a boy, prof. mclaren's academy at gallupville. i informed him that i was there several years. "well," said he, "are you the one who measured the shote?" i replied, "tell me about it, and we will see." he then related the following incident: "at the time to which i refer there was a boy about thirteen years old who was very proficient in figures, and the professor took great pleasure in giving him difficult problems to solve during the dinner hour. on one of these occasions, as the professor was going across the green for his dinner, the boy met him and asked for a problem. looking up, he saw a half grown hog near by, and quickly replied, 'give me the cubic inches of that shote.' and, supposing he had got a good joke on the boy, he passed on. but as soon as he was fairly out of sight, the boy called together several other boys, and stated the case to them, adding, 'now, boys, if you will help me to catch that shote, we will show the professor a thing that they have never done in edinburgh.' the boys consented, and his hogship was soon made a prisoner. under a vigorous vocal protest, he was then dragged to the back end of the academy building, and plunged into a half hogshead of water. after his release, of course, the vacant space in the hogshead, caused by the displacing of the water, represented the actual size of the shote. in five minutes more, the cubic inches were obtained, and on the return of the professor the answer was ready for him." the story was well told, and i was obliged to confess to the impeachment. during this, the last year of my second term on the fond du lac district, my strength was taxed to its utmost. besides the regular quarterly meetings, i had made it my earnest concern to aid all the preachers on the district in their work as far as possible. during the winter this service was largely rendered in protracted meetings, and during the summer in church enterprises. in fact, the latter branch of labor had been made a specialty during the entire term. and as a result, two churches had been dedicated in fond du lac, three on the chilton charge, three on the hingham work, one on the byron, two on the markesan, one on the brandon, one on the rosendale, one on the fox lake, one on the empire, and one on the horicon and juneau, besides quite a number that were remodeled and largely improved. including both classes, we had had on the district during the term twenty-two church enterprises. extensive revivals had occurred, and we were now able to report an increase of eight hundred and seventy-seven members. chapter xxiv. conference of .--stationed at ripon.--first visit.--rev. e.j. smith.--rev. byron kingsbury.--sabbath school.--early record of the station.--church enterprises.--rev. william morse.--rev. joseph anderson.--revival.--church enlargement.--berlin.--early history.--rev. isaac wiltse.--conference of .--returned to ripon.--marriage of our second daughter.--a happy year.--close of our labors. the conference of was held september d at appleton, bishop scott presiding. my term on the district had now expired, and a new appointment must follow. several of the strongest charges opened their doors, but for reasons that were quite satisfactory both to myself and the good people, i was stationed at ripon. the following week i started for my new field of labor. as before stated, i had visited this locality in , it then being known as ceresco. but, besides a casual visit and a week's stay during the session of the conference, i had enjoyed limited opportunities to maintain an acquaintance with the people or the charge. i reached the city saturday afternoon, and immediately, satchel in hand, started down main street to find some one who might invite me to lodgings. i had not gone far when i saw a gentleman hastily crossing the street to intercept me. on approaching i found it to be rev. e.j. smith, a local preacher, to whom reference has been made in former chapters in connection with fall river. i had learned of his removal to ripon, but was hardly prepared to meet my old friend so suddenly, and receive such a hearty greeting. an invitation to lodgings immediately followed, and i joyfully accepted, remembering the kind hospitality this noble family had given me in other days. after chatting over the past, and taking some refreshments, my old friend took me out to a multitude of introductions among the brethren. i found them all cordial, and began to feel quite at home among them. passing down main street, we visited the church, a building of respectable size and comparatively new, and passing down still further into the borders of what was formerly known as ceresco proper, we found the parsonage. this little walk of saturday gave me an outline of the lay of things, and helped me to poise my head and arrange my thoughts for the sabbath. the sabbath gave me a fair congregation, and at the close of the service we enjoyed a good class meeting, led by my old friend, e.j. smith. and as one of the living members of the class, i found also an old acquaintance of my boyhood and later years, albert cook. there were also a few friends of other days still residing in ripon, and several who had come from other places to reside in the city, to join in the cordial greeting that was given me. the sunday school, under the charge of rev. byron kingsbury, so well known throughout the state in the sunday school work, met also at the close of the morning service. it was in a flourishing condition, as it could not well be otherwise with such a superintendent. the superintendent introduced the new pastor to the school, and playfully asked them if they thought the new pastor was as good-looking as the old. quite to my surprise, they answered in the affirmative. in the few remarks that followed i accounted for the good looks of both the former pastor and the present on the score that i was the father and the former pastor was one of my boys, as i had introduced him to the conference some years before. this little sally reconciled the children to the new state of things, and secured me a kindly greeting from all of them. since my pastorate in , a variety of changes had passed over the place and the church. i found ripon no longer a small settlement, nestled in the little valley between the bluffs, but a veritable city, now largely perched on the brow of the prairie, with its numerous business houses, its churches, and its college. the church, instead of being a small class with its meetings first in the dining hall and afterwards in the small school house, was now a large society, and comfortably quartered in a respectable church edifice. but all these changes had not come in a day. the circuit of twenty-four appointments, of which ripon was only one, had been divided and subdivided until they had become nearly a score of charges. to trace these changes in detail would weary the reader, and hence i have only referred to them incidentally, as they have fallen into the line of my subsequent labors. in this connection, i must confine myself to ripon and its immediate vicinity. the first quarterly meeting of which i can find a record was held in ceresco by rev. j.m. walker, oct. th, , rev. william stevens was then the preacher in charge. the official members were: george limbert, local preacher, z. pedrick, recording steward, thos. p. smith, steward, and david s. shepherd, class leader. there were at this time four classes connected with the charge, and these were located at ripon, ceresco. rush lake, and utica. at the fourth quarterly meeting of this year there were two sunday schools reported. one at ceresco, with thirty-three scholars, and one at ripon, with twenty-one. the following year, , rev. r. moffat was sent to the charge. utica was now put into another charge, and democrat prairie attached to ceresco. during this year, a small frame church was built in ceresco, on the east side of the street, and about forty rods south of the ceresco mill. the pioneer church was used until , when it was sold to mr. w.h. demming, who removed it to its present location for a cooper-shop. from to , while the services in ceresco were thus held in the small church, the meetings in ripon were held in the city hall, which was rented for the purpose. when the new church was built, the congregations were united. the new church, under the pastorate of rev. william morse, was commenced in may, , and the lecture-room was ready for use in march, . the audience room was not completed until the pastorate of rev. j.t. woodhead in . brother woodhead was succeeded by rev. joseph anderson. brother morse had entered the traveling connection in the state of new york, had located, and had come west, seeking health for his wife. the death of brother maxson, of which mention is made in a former chapter, had left ripon without a pastor, and brother morse was employed to fill the vacancy. besides filling out the unexpired year, he remained two years on the charge, and during his pastorate there were many accessions. he filled several other appointments subsequently in the conference with great acceptability, but on account of family affliction, he was finally compelled to retire from active labor. at this writing he is in western iowa, where he does what he can to help on the good cause. he is a man of sweet spirit, and is highly esteemed by all his brethren. brother anderson entered the wisconsin conference in , and was stationed at south grove, in racine district. his subsequent appointments had been milton, geneva, sheboygan falls, fond du lac district, and appleton. on the stations, and during his four years on the district, he had done efficient work, and was now brought to ripon as the successor of brother woodhead, where he was well received. after leaving ripon, his appointments have been, presiding elder on the waupaca district four years, waupaca station, second church, oshkosh, and omro, his present field. brother anderson is a man of large frame, and gives evidence of unusual physical strength. he has a strong head, a kind heart, and is inclined to the humorous. he can tell a good story in a social circle, and can relate a good anecdote in the pulpit. in the latter he is gifted in the line of similes, which often in his hands make the sermon interesting and profitable. he gives promise of many more years of usefulness. at ripon, the sabbath having passed, steps were taken to place the parsonage in readiness to receive the pastor's family. those noble women, mrs. kingsbury, mrs. smith, and others, not only aided in the necessary provision, but actually gave their personal superintendence to the arrangement of the furniture. a new carpet was put down in the parlor; a new stove in the sitting room, and such other measures taken as were deemed necessary to render the coming and stay of the pastor's family agreeable to them. and when the family came on thursday, they found the rooms warm, the table spread, and the house filled with happy faces, warm hearts and ready hands, to give them a cordial greeting. such a reception, given by such a people, robs the itinerancy of half its burdens, and gives to the relations of pastor and people an exquisite setting. the preliminaries settled, i took up my work in the order i had been accustomed to follow whenever assigned to station work. knowing the importance of the pastoral as well as the pulpit labor, i had always been accustomed to adhere strictly to a division of labor, giving the forenoons to my study, and the afternoons to pastoral visits. by this arrangement i found i could give to the study all the time necessary to fully employ a healthy brain, and yet find time to pass over in consecutive order the entire list of families in regular attendance upon the church, three or four times a year. the prosecution of this plan in ripon soon filled the house with people, and also added greatly to the spiritual prosperity of the membership. during the winter considerable revival interest pervaded the congregation, which had now come to fill the church to suffocation, and not less than seventy-five persons professed conversion. the students from the college came to the church in great numbers, and several of them were found among the converts. during the winter, a lecture course was instituted, under the auspices of the literary society connected with the college, and i was requested to give the first lecture. the flattering manner in which the effort was spoken of by the press brought other invitations, and i yielded to several of them, though my time was too much occupied with my regular work to indulge myself far in this direction. at this time i was also employed to do considerable work in connection with the press. besides becoming one of the corresponding editors of the index and the n.w. advance, two papers published in milwaukee, i accepted the position of a local editor on the fond du lac commonwealth, and in this capacity represented ripon and its vicinity in its columns. during the winter, i was called to onion river to dedicate the new brick church that had been built on the hingham charge, and in the following summer i was called to oshkosh to re-open the first church, which had been enlarged and greatly improved by the rev. wm. p. stowe. frequent calls were also made upon me for addresses on temperance and other subjects. i yielded as far as consistent with my other obligations, but made in these cases, as ever in the course of my labors, all such calls yield to the pressing demands of my regular ministerial work. but at this stage of our work, another enterprise lay immediately before the good people of ripon. the church could no longer accommodate the crowds of people that thronged it, and an extension became necessary. a united and generous effort, however, soon rendered this necessary improvement a fixed fact. by an extension of the length and reconstruction of the basement, and suitable refitting, the ripon church became not only commodious, but, in size, the second church in the northern portion of the conference. on one of the beautiful days of june, i concluded to make a visit to berlin. taking my family in a carriage, we passed over a delightful country and along pleasant roads, wondering at the change that had come over that region since i made my wild excursion in this direction in , to find strong's landing. i now found berlin a pleasant city and the home of many valued friends, whom i had known elsewhere. berlin, though now aspiring to be a charge of respectable standing, had its beginning, like all others, in "the day of small things." the first methodist sermon was preached by rev. mr. bassinger in september, . the services were held in the office of a warehouse. berlin was now connected with dartford, and became a regular appointment. brother bassinger formed a class in connection with the first service in the warehouse. the members were reuben tompkins, his wife, and two daughters, mrs. kellogg and mrs. mcelroy. until a church was built the meetings were held, after leaving the warehouse, first over mr. bartlett's store, and afterwards over mr. alexander's clothing store. the first church was built under the pastorate of rev. j. pearsall in . it did good service for several years, and was then sold. it is now used as a blacksmith shop. the second church, the present respectable edifice, was built in by rev. d. stansbury, and was dedicated by the late dr. t.m. eddy. the parsonage was built by rev. d.o. jones in . rev. isaac wiltse, the pastor at berlin at this time entered the wisconsin conference at its april session in . his charges before coming to berlin were wautoma, kingston, door creek, lowell, liberty prairie, and dartford. since leaving berlin, his appointment has been beaver dam, where he is now doing a good work for the master. brother wiltse is one of those men who usually remain on a charge as long as the law of the church will permit. he is a young man of a clear understanding and genuine piety. as a preacher he holds an excellent position in the conference, and he is not less esteemed as a pastor. avoiding all effort to make a show in the world, he furnishes a large stock of gospel truth in his sermons, and puts into his administration an equal share of common sense. the next session of the conference was held oct. , in janesville. we were returned to ripon, as expected by all. but the year opened with another of those occasions which strangely unite both joy and sorrow. on the third day of november, a happy group were met at the parsonage, to celebrate the marriage of our second daughter, laura eunice, and mr. jesse smith, of fond du lac. this event took to fond du lac our second and only remaining daughter, leaving us alone with our son, now twelve years of age, as the only representative of young life in the household. those only who have thus felt the shadows one after another creeping around the home hearth, can realize the desolation of feeling that broods over the parental heart on such occasions. but there is no time in this life to estimate its losses. the duties of the day are ever upon us, and we must away at their call. the church enlargement had been completed, and every indication gave promise of a successful year. our associations were exceedingly pleasant, and the church, at peace in all her borders, was in a healthy spiritual condition. during the winter a revival again blessed the labors of pastor and people. the following summer was one of great comfort. the two years spent at ripon were among the most happy of all our itinerant life. not a jar had disturbed the fair fabric of our dreams, not a ripple had disturbed the happy flow of feeling. and, strongly entrenched in the confidence and good feeling of all the people, we closed the year in full expectation of a return and another successful term. chapter xxv. conference of .--election of delegates.--laymen's electoral convention.--temperance.--the sabbath.--rev. thomas hughes.--appointed to spring street.--third term.--wide field.--rev. c.d. pillsbury.--rev. w.w. case.--the norwegian work.--rev. a. haagenson.--the silver wedding.--results of the year. the conference of was held in the summerfield church, milwaukee, oct. , and was presided over by bishop simpson. at this session the election of delegates to the general conference again occurred. the conference was entitled to five clerical delegates, and the laymen to two. the conference elected g.m. steele, c.d. pillsbury, henry bannister, p.r. pease, and w.g. miller. the laymen's convention elected hon. wm. p. lyon, of the supreme court of the state, and r.p. elmore, esq., of milwaukee. judge lyon being unable to attend, his place was filled by prof. h.a. jones, of lawrence university. at this session provision was made to hold a methodist state convention at madison during the following summer. able reports were also adopted on the subject of temperance and the observance of the christian sabbath, showing that the members of the body kept abreast with the demands of the times. this year the conference was called to make a record of the death of two of its members, rev. isaac searles, and rev. thomas hughes. as reference has been made to the first named in a former chapter, it need not be repeated in this connection. brother hughes was a native of wales, and had been connected with our welsh work. alter serving two years in the welsh mission in oneida conference he came to wisconsin in . he settled in fond du lac county, and for several years supplied the welsh mission in nekimi, preaching also at times to the english population in that neighborhood. his death occurred in utica, n.y. he was a man of strong mind, amiable spirit, and thoroughly versed in the doctrines of the bible and the standards of the church. besides this depletion of the itinerant ranks, three of our brethren had been called during the year to go down into the deep shadows of domestic affliction, in the loss of their companions, revs. william teal, warren woodruff and h.h. jones. the obituaries of these devoted co-laborers were inserted in the conference minutes. during the session of the conference, mrs. miller and myself were entertained by the misses curry, whose generous hospitality made our stay with them exceedingly pleasant. we also visited many of our old friends in the city as opportunity permitted, little dreaming of the surprise that was awaiting us. the conference closed in the usual manner by the reading of the appointments. but judge of our surprise to find ourselves assigned for a third time to the pastorate of spring street station, milwaukee. to say we were surprised indeed would be but to state the truth, and yet to say we were pained we could not, for who that has ever known the good people of old spring street, could ever deem it an affliction to be stationed among them. however, when we looked upon the weeping eyes of several of our dear ripon friends in the congregation, and thought of the many others at home, we would have been other than human if our eyes had not also filled with tears. nor is it too much to say, that we did not know how much we were attached to the good people of ripon and our work there, until we found ourselves so suddenly separated from them. but on the other hand, what could we say? we came first to milwaukee when in our youth. we came again to the milwaukee district in , and to the station in , giving to the first four years of severe labor, and to the last three of the most successful years of our itinerant life. we had known this people as it seldom falls to the lot of itinerants to know a people. with not a few we had knelt at the altar of god, when they passed into the spiritual kingdom. the names of very many of them had been entered by the writer's hand on the records of the church. with many we had bowed our heads in recognition of their deep sorrow, and with many had clasped hands in the day of their rejoicing. and now, to be sent back to a third pastorate within a period of twenty years, could not be deemed less than a great privilege. but to our work. following my life-long custom, the first sabbath of the new conference year found me at my post of labor. i was happy to find the charge in a good spiritual condition, and hence i was able to take up the work in its ordinary line of service. my first care was to arrange a complete system of pastoral labor, still entertaining the conviction that upon the faithful prosecution of this branch of the ministerial work depended, in a good degree, the success of the pastoral function. and in this branch of service spring street station imposes a vast amount of labor. as the mother church of the city, her membership is widely scattered, and her congregations large. yet the pastor, with a careful husbanding of time, and an earnest effort, can pass over the field as often as the exigencies of the work require. he may not always visit each family as often as they desire, for there are many in every church who have a very limited idea of the amount of labor, care and thought the pastoral office imposes, but he will be able to meet all reasonable demands. the new church had been completed during the preceding year, and had been dedicated by rev. drs. eddy and ives on the sabbath before conference, oct. th, . the building is a fine brick structure, one hundred feet in length by eighty in width at the transepts. besides the auditorium, it has a large lecture-room, three parlors, a pastor's study, a library room, and a convenient kitchen. the entire cost of buildings and grounds, including the parsonage, was sixty thousand dollars. at the dedication subscriptions were obtained to meet the indebtedness of twenty thousand dollars with a satisfactory margin. the new year opened with all the church appliances in vigorous operation. the class and prayer meetings were well attended, and the intervening evenings were occupied by the meetings of the ladies' aid, the literary and other church societies. the sunday school, under the superintendence of rev. edwin hyde, was in a flourishing condition, ranking, doubtless, as one of the most numerous and successful schools of the city. the milwaukee district was now in charge of rev. c.d. pillsbury, who entered the maine conference in . he filled the following appointments in that conference: dover, atkinson, sagerville, and exeter. at the division in , he fell into the east maine conference, where his appointments were machias, summer street, bangor, agent of east maine seminary, and presiding elder of bangor district. he was transferred to the wisconsin conference in , and stationed at racine as the writer's successor. his subsequent appointments have been racine district, chaplain of the twenty-second regiment, beloit, agent of the freedmen's aid commission, janesville district, and milwaukee district. after leaving the district brother pillsbury has been stationed at bay view and menasha, but, his health failing, he took a supernumerary relation at the last conference, and at this writing is residing at minneapolis. he has done considerable literary work, in connection with his ministerial labors. brother pillsbury has a well balanced mind, and is thoroughly versed in the great questions of the day. he is sound in theology and faithful in administration; a good, strong preacher, and is universally respected, both as a man and a minister. asbury church was greatly delighted with the return of rev. w.w. case to its pastorate. he entered the erie conference in , and in that conference he had been stationed at ellington, cattaraugus, and little valley. he was transferred to the wisconsin conference in , and had now been stationed three years each at edgerton and beloit. during his year at asbury, he had gathered a fine congregation, and was now in great esteem among the people. he remained three years at asbury, and was then stationed at division street, fond du lac, where he is at the present writing, serving the second year. brother case is still a young man, and is blessed with a pleasant countenance, agreeable manners, and an affable spirit. in social life he is a great favorite. he is well read, and has an entertaining delivery. in the selection of his pulpit topics, and in the manner of their treatment, he dwells more in the sunshine than in the storm. he has already reached a position among his brethren that gives promise of great usefulness in the master's work. it has not been my purpose to embody in these pages a record of the exceedingly interesting and prosperous work among our german brethren, as their branch of methodistic labor in the state has developed an annual conference of its own, and richly deserves a volume for its proper presentation. but as our norwegian brethren are connected with our own conference, a brief reference to their work will not be out of place. it will be recollected that in a former chapter reference was made to the beginning of the work in our state. we will now refer to the opening of the good work in milwaukee. in the spring of , the writer was holding a protracted meeting in the spring street methodist episcopal church. at one of the meetings there came to the altar as seekers, two norwegians. as the meetings progressed, others came with them, until there were some twelve persons on probation and in full membership, who used the scandinavian language. during the following summer, it was deemed advisable to form them into a class by themselves, and as they resided in the vicinity of the asbury church, put them in connection with that charge. rev. p.k. rye, then stationed at racine, came down a few times and furnished them services in their own language. at the ensuing session of the west wisconsin conference, in which the scandinavian work was then placed, milwaukee was connected with racine charge, and placed under the care of rev. a. haagenson. the society was duly organized by the new pastor on the th day of march, . brother haagenson was greatly blessed in his labors, and before the end of the year purchased the german baptist church, located on walker street, between hanover and greenbush. the cost of the building and lots was eight hundred dollars. brother haagenson remained until , when he was succeeded on the milwaukee and racine mission by rev. n. christopherson, who remained until the close of . in , milwaukee and ashipun were put together, with rev. c.o. trider as pastor. the erection of a new church, twenty-eight by forty-five feet in size, was commenced in december, and in may, , the lecture-room was dedicated by rev. a. haagenson. at the present writing, brother haagenson is the presiding elder of the norwegian district, and has also charge of the station, having in the latter portion of his work rev. o. hanson as an assistant. brother haagenson is a man of deep piety and earnest purpose. studious and laborious, he furnishes an excellent type of a methodist preacher. his labors are onerous, but his work is in a highly prosperous state, and is making a record of many conversions. on the fourth of january, , we celebrated our silver wedding. we had made a note of our wedding anniversary with considerable regularity from year to year, but had never until now celebrated any of the epochs which are so often made to divide the years of married life. in this instance we deemed it advisable to depart from our usual custom, since twenty-five years seems to be a point from which both the past and future may be seen ordinarily with considerable distinctness of outline. and further, it was now probable that the whole family could be brought together, an event which could not be looked upon with any great degree of assurance as probable at any future time. the entertainment was given in the evening in the parsonage, and was attended by about one hundred persons. spring street and the other churches of the city were well represented. but in addition to these, there were delegations present from all the charges we had served in the conference, each bringing the hand of greeting from our old friends to cheer us. a record of the occasion, however, would be incomplete if i were not to state that the silver ware of the house was increased by an addition valued at nearly five hundred dollars. but every rose has its thorn. never before were we obliged to sleep with one eye open to guard our treasures. the year now drew to a close, and, counting up the results, we found that fifty-one members had been received, the pastor's salary, amounting to twenty-three hundred dollars, had been paid, the church debt had been reduced to ten thousand dollars, and that to meet the balance there were subscriptions, including organ fund, of fifteen thousand dollars. chapter xxvi. conference of .--rev. a.p. mead.--rev. a. callender.--rev. win. p. stowe.--rev. o.b. thayer.--rev. s. reynolds,--revival under mrs. van cott.--conference of .--rev. henry colman.--rev. a.a. hoskin.--rev. stephen smith.--illness.--conference of .--rev. dr. carhart.--rev. geo. a. smith.--rev. c.n. stowers. the conference of was held oct. th, at division street church, fond du lac, bishop haven presiding. the woman's foreign missionary society, having been fully recognized by the general conference, was made the subject of a highly appreciative report, in which the conference extended to the ladies of the church a cordial welcome to this new field of effort, and pledged them a helping hand in the good work. at this session rev. a.p. mead was appointed presiding elder of waupaca district. brother mead graduated from the garrett biblical institute in , and was the same year admitted into the conference. his appointments had been sharon, elkhorn, kenosha, bay view, and lyons, when he was sent to the district. he remained only two years on the waupaca district, and was then appointed to the fond du lac district. brother mead is a man of genial spirit and large practical sense. his sermons are replete with evangelical truth, and produce an abiding impression. his intercourse with the people and preachers is instructive, and his administration cannot fail to prove a blessing to the district. at this session of the conference, the decease of rev. aurora callender, among others, was announced. brother callender entered the pittsburg conference in , and was first stationed at franklin, a circuit located on the slope of the alleghany mountains, and in the neighborhood of the oil regions. before coming to wisconsin, his appointments were meadville circuit, meadville, springfield, cuyahoga falls, chardon and middleburgh. coming to wisconsin, he was stationed, in , at sylvania. his subsequent appointments were geneva and elkhorn, union, hazel green, dodgeville, mineral point district, norwegian mission district, clinton, and agent of american colonization society, subsequently he filled several charges as a supply, and departed this life in the midst of his work at pickneyville, ill., oct. d, . brother callender was a veteran pioneer. capable of great physical endurance, possessing a vigorous intellect, well skilled in theology and methodist law, his labors were abundant and of a substantial character. in his earlier years, especially, his ministry led many souls to the cross. at this conference i was returned to spring street station, and, brother pillsbury's term on the district having expired, rev. wm. p. stowe was appointed presiding elder. brother stowe, it will be remembered, was converted in his boyhood in his father's chapel. when grown to man's estate, he took up the trowel and thereby procured funds to secure his education. he graduated from the lawrence university as a member of the second class, in . he entered the conference the same year, and was stationed at sheboygan. the following two years he was stationed at port washington, but before the close of the second year his health failed, and he retired from the work. in he accepted the chaplaincy of the twenty-seventh regiment, but the year following he was re-admitted and stationed at sharon. his subsequent appointments were beloit, racine, oshkosh, and summerfield, milwaukee, in all of which charges he has left the fragrance of a good name and the legacy of substantial fruit. as a presiding elder, he is deservedly popular. brother stowe has a large frame, tends to corpulency, and shows great physical vigor. with large perception, he reads men and surroundings aptly. in the pulpit, he puts ideas in logical relations, and aims at an object. his sermons abound in illustrations, strung on a strong cord of evangelical truth. rev. o.b. thayer was stationed at summerfield church, having become a member of the conference in . he had been stationed at court street church, janesville, and at appleton. in both these charges he had developed a high standard of pulpit talent. he remained at summerfield two years, and was then appointed to kenosha, where, at the present writing, he is preaching to fine congregations. rev. s. reynolds, state agent of the american bible society, was also a member of the ministerial fraternity of milwaukee. this good brother came to the conference by transfer from iowa. he has been engaged for many years in his present work, and has gained a reputation, second to none, in the management of the laborious and manifold responsibilities of his position. in his addresses he deals in stubborn facts, and never fails to interest the audience. he is vigilant in looking after the details of his trust, but he needs a word of caution as to his health. his great labor is evidently overtaxing his strength. my salary was again fixed at two thousand three hundred dollars. a new system of finance was now adopted, called the "envelope system." in its principal features, it was similar to the "card system," introduced during my former term, but contained several additional provisions to render it more effective. the new plan succeeded admirably, giving to the station, at the end of the first quarter of the year, the extraordinary record of having fully paid the pastor's salary, and every other claim for current expenses, besides liquidating several bills for improvements on the church and parsonage. and it is proper to add that the current year closed with several hundred dollars in the treasury. the regular work of the station opened this year encouragingly. a general quickening followed, and by mid-winter there had been half a score of conversions. mrs. maggie n. van cott, who had been engaged for a year to assist us, now came to our help. the meeting continued five weeks, under this most extraordinary laborer, and resulted in the conversion of near four hundred souls, about two hundred of whom united with the spring street church. the conference of was held oct. , at whitewater, bishop merrill presiding. at this session rev. henry colman, who had repeatedly served as assistant, was elected secretary of the conference. brother colman graduated from the lawrence university as a member of the first class in . he entered the west wisconsin conference in , and filled one appointment in that conference, when, in , he was transferred to the wisconsin conference and stationed at columbus. in he was stationed at green bay, and the following year at asbury, milwaukee. in he was appointed principal of the evansville seminary, where he remained four years. after leaving the seminary, he has held a respectable class of appointments, and is now doing effective work at fort atkinson. he is a man of clear head and honorable, christian impulses. having a thorough knowledge of biblical criticism, he has for several years rendered the sunday schools of the state a good service by furnishing in the christian statesman a weekly exposition of the lesson. in keeping with the provision of the discipline, adopted at the recent session of the general conference, for the trial of appeals, the conference elected her quota as follows: w.g. miller, o.j. cowles, joseph anderson, j.w. carhart, p.b. pease, p.s. bennett, and w.p. stowe. but as there were no cases to be tried, the brethren elected were compelled to wear empty honors. at this conference, the writer again returned to spring street, it being the third year of the third term of my pastorate among this people, and the thirtieth conference year of my itinerent labors. brother stowe was also returned to the district, and rev. a.a. hoskin was appointed to asbury, and rev. stephen smith to bay view. brother hoskin entered the conference in , and before coming to the city had been stationed at milton, shopiere, and menomonee falls. he is a young man of fine culture, genial spirit, and great industry. his sermons embody the fundamental truths of the gospel, and their manifold relations to practical life, and are highly appreciated by the people. besides being a good preacher, he is also a poet of considerable reputation. brother smith entered the conference in , and his first appointment was sylvania. his subsequent appointments have been elkhorn, sharon, geneva, manitowoc, fort atkinson, delavan, first church, janesville, and bay view. on all these charges he has left the evidences of earnest and devoted work for the master. at bay view, the present year has been one of extraordinary success. the revival that transpired under his labors swept through the entire community, and gave an accession of more than one hundred members, a majority of whom were heads of families. brother smith is a good preacher, filling his sermons with a clear exposition of evangelical truth. and his ministry has ever been a benediction to the people of his respective charges. the year opened in spring street station with unusual promise. the social meetings were well attended, the congregations were large and attentive, the sunday school, the largest in the city, prosperous, the several societies were doing effective work, and the finances were in an excellent condition. with this outlook, we were anticipating a glorious year, but how uncertain are all human expectations! during the delivery of the morning sermon on sabbath, april th, , the writer was taken violently ill. the attack proved to be the prostration of the nervous system, resulting from overworking the brain, a difficulty that had been foreshadowed by several premonitions during the preceding year. my condition at the first was perilous, but after four hours of skillful medical treatment and careful nursing, the crisis passed. then followed weary weeks of watching and waiting. meantime, i received the earnest sympathy of my people, and the kind assistance of my brethren in the ministry, who generously proposed to supply my pulpit. the conference of was held at oshkosh, bishop foster presiding. i was able to attend and answer to my name, but could spend but little time in the conference room. whenever present i seemed to myself, as i must have seemed to others, like a dismantled ship, stranded on the beach. i was most kindly treated by all the brethren, being relieved of every burden, and assured of abiding sympathy. at this conference rev. j.w. carhart, d.d., was stationed, by request of the people, at oshkosh. brother carhart entered the traveling connection in the troy conference, and came to the wisconsin conference by transfer in , being stationed at racine. he had just completed a full term, and hence oshkosh is his second appointment in the conference. he is a man of superior culture, fine preaching ability, and cannot fail to give character to the pulpit, wherever he may be stationed. rev. george a. smith was stationed at spring street as my successor. brother smith entered the conference in april , his first appointment being principal of the evansville seminary. his subsequent appointments were milton, emerald grove, lyons and spring prairie. in his last field his health failed through intense mental application, and he was compelled to retire from the work. after five years of rest he was again able to resume his labors, being stationed first at pleasant prairie, and next at kenosha. brother smith is in the strength of his manhood, has a vigorous mind, is a fine thinker, uses clear-cut and well selected language, has a most amiable spirit, and his ministry cannot fail to be a grand success anywhere. brother stowers came to the conference by transfer in , and first served as professor in the lawrence university. in , having been elected president of the upper iowa university, he was transferred to the upper iowa conference. he returned, however, to the wisconsin conference the following year, and was stationed at janesville. his next charge was whitewater, where, during his three years' pastorate, he achieved great success in the erection of a fine brick church, and in securing large accessions to the membership. brother stowers is a man of great energy and decided talent. he has an excellent voice, a ready utterance, and abundant illustrations, which render his pulpit labors attractive. he is an able and successful minister. at the adjournment of the conference, the preachers hastened to their new fields of labor, perhaps hardly thinking, in their eagerness to be at their work, of the tearful eyes that were looking after them, and the aching hearts of those brethren who, no longer able to go out with them to the battle, were compelled to languish in hospitals, or linger by the wayside. as for myself, i returned to milwaukee, and retired to the quiet home a few personal friends in the city and elsewhere had assisted me to build, and where i now write this, the last line of thirty years in the itinerancy. plowing on sunday [illustration] the macmillan company new york · boston · chicago · dallas atlanta · san francisco macmillan & co., limited london · bombay · calcutta melbourne the macmillan company of canada, limited toronto plowing on sunday _by_ sterling north new york the macmillan company _copyright, , by_ the macmillan company. all rights reserved--no part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper. _set up and electrotyped._ _published october, ._ printed in the united states of america norwood press linotype, inc. norwood, mass., u.s.a. contents book one chapter page i ii iii iv book two v vi vii book three viii ix x xi book four xii xiii xiv book five xv book one chapter i sarah brailsford hurried through the april downpour holding her lantern with its shining reflector high above her and picking her way among the puddles which gleamed in the lantern light. now and then she would stop to listen or would hallo in her sweet, anxious voice, "stanley! oh, stan!" the lantern cast gigantic shadows behind each boulder, fence-post and clump of hazel bushes as she splashed along between the rushing buggy ruts with an unreasonable panic in her heart. the willow branches from the trees beside the ditch whipped wetly across her face and shoulders. she brushed them aside without stopping and crossed the bridge over the flooded creek. she lowered her head to fight the mounting wind, and labored up the hill through muddy torrents until she stood at last beneath the giant cottonwood with half the world below her. then as she rested, panting from her climb, the distant lightning flared and the panic left her. there lay the lake she had known since she was a child, the marshes, the great banks of peat, the far dark mound covered with oak trees which was charley's bluff, the limestone cliff at lake house point rising white and majestic above the black, rain-swept waters. the fields and woods and rivers of wisconsin lay all about her like the walls of home. she hurried on now, certain that she would find him, knowing that any moment she might hear the clop, clop of the horse's hooves and the creaking of the light spring wagon. and she was not surprised when at the turn of the road she heard his deep, full voice which even now that she had reached her forty-third year could move her. the man was roaring a hymn above the storm. but she was not prepared for the sight which greeted her eyes when the lightning flashed again. stud brailsford was between the thills where the horse should have been, trotting through the rain, singing and hatless. the rain was in his graying curls and running down his face. he looked a giant in the lantern light. "stanley! stanley! what's happened? and who's that in the wagon? you'll both catch your death." she rushed to meet them crying out her surprise, and before her husband could answer had lifted the lantern to look into the eyes of the drenched girl on the wagon seat, eyes very bright and expectant, curls the color of straw bursting from under a wide-brimmed picture hat from which drooped two dilapidated ostrich plumes. the girl of perhaps eighteen straightened under sarah's gaze. "lightning struck old peg," the man explained, "so i played horse for early ann." it's after midnight, sarah thought. he's come from town with a strange girl, and.... "you must be about tuckered out," she said. "me, tuckered?" the big man laughed. "you should have seen me come up gravel store hill." "he's a good horse," the girl said. her laughter was deep and unexpected. her voice strangely rich for one so young. "get up in the wagon with the girl and put your coat around her." worrying about the child instead of me, thought sarah climbing over the wheel to the wagon seat. she shared her rain coat with the shivering girl and warmed her with her own body, while stanley brailsford, with the strength of a stallion, pulled them both along the road, splashing and singing. at last the girl ceased to shiver. she tilted her hat and pillowed her head upon the older woman's shoulder. and there she rested until brailsford cried, "here we are!" and so it was that early ann sherman came to the brailsford farm on crab apple point in the dairy country of southern wisconsin in april of the year . stud brailsford was a breeder famed throughout southern wisconsin. he had a poland china boar, a jersey bull, and a percheron stallion which were the talk of the countryside. he had cornfed sows which looked like minor blimps wallowing in his pig yards and scratching their ample backs against mail-order scratching posts which turned like screws twisting sinuous curls of soothing grease upward to salve the noble porcine flanks; soft-eyed jersey cows whose pedigrees compared favorably with that of any reigning monarch; shetland ponies, shropshire sheep, and a small herd of goats. on the little pond which lay like a blue mirror in a hollow between the hills a quarter of a mile north of the house he had tame geese, three varieties of tame ducks, as well as wild mallards, pintails, redheads, and canvasbacks brought home wounded from the fall duck hunting, clipped and kept to propagate more of their species. wild canadian geese he also had whose honking overhead in the short flights they essayed about the farm had all the fierce challenge of their kind, all the longing for distant marshes, and the fire of spring. for spring was upon the land-- spring had come rushing up the mississippi valley out of the warm gulf states, out of the bayous and river bottoms bringing the fragrance of wet earth and leaf mold, the sweet smell of sap running in the maples, the acrid smells of dung and marshland. at rock island, illinois, spring, and the wild fowl, had turned off the main stream to follow the rock river valley up through rockford, beloit, janesville, until at last with a final onslaught they had taken lake koshkonong and the farms and oak woods along its shores. overnight wildflowers bloomed on the hills, buttercups, anemones, dog violets, real violets, and the gaudy dandelions which children held beneath each other's chins to discover with great certainty who did and who did not like butter. pickerel began to run up the creeks and back into the marshy bays of the lake; the little streams were flooded, and furry buds no larger than the ears of mice began to show on the black, gnarled branches of the oak trees. and spring to stanley brailsford meant plowing. "hi up there, bess!" he shouted. "get a move on, jinny." he guided the plow with one hand for a moment, using the other to slap the reins sharply across the sweating flanks of the team of mares. he turned them with an expert grace at the end of the furrow, went down along the fencerow and around the outer edge of the field. a dozen white chickens, two or three bold robins, and shep, the mischievous young farm dog followed the furrow in an absurd parade. the birds were greedy for the pink angle-worms, fat, purple night-crawlers, and succulent grubs. the dog delighted in making the chickens leap six feet into the air with playful passes at their proud white tails. "get along you lazy hunks of horseflesh," stud told the team. "pretty near time we had this twenty planted. what you horses going to eat next winter, sawdust?" he stopped for a moment to wipe his forehead with his red bandana pulled from the voluminous depths of his overalls pocket, gazed back over the neatly pleated acres of moist, black soil to the meadow beyond, and to the sandy beach of the big lake beyond that. a pickerel splashed in the shallow water. "holy moses, that must've weighed twenty pounds," stud told the dog. even the fish were frisky today. shep was frisky and so was stud. ulysses s. grant was acting like a wild boar, napoleon more like a texas longhorn than a jersey, while admiral dewey, the shetland pony stallion was the worst of the lot. the admiral had a habit of biting bigger horses' legs, then leaping about, prancing and whinnying. stud knew it was a bad policy to let a stallion run loose in the pasture but he couldn't find it in his heart to shut the little rascal in the barn. the admiral and mrs. dewey were the happiest married couple he had ever seen. they had been running together for five years now. five pony colts had made mrs. dewey look a bit matronly, but the little stallion was still a holy terror. "sarah's a bit like mrs. dewey," thought the man. "quiet, and good and sort of sweet. but me, i'm like the admiral." the dinner bell cut across his thoughts with its distant hollow clangor, now full and near as the breeze brought it directly to his ears, now remote and thin as the wind veered. the horses pricked up their ears and stamped impatiently, stud, whistling loudly and merrily, unsnapped the tugs and clucked. released from their dragging burden the team trotted over the soft earth at such a pace that stud brailsford had to break into a run; and the three of them, the two beasts and the man, came into the barnyard in a whirl of leaping, screeching chickens, hissing ganders, and the hearty hallo of early ann. on the broad kitchen stoop brailsford scraped the black dirt from his shoes, then, whistling, went in to wash. sarah hurried to prime the cistern pump which wheezed and creaked as it gushed forth a clear stream of clean-smelling rain water. he scrubbed face and hands with a coarse yellow soap, dried himself vigorously on the crash roller-towel, ran the family comb through his curls, and hesitated for a second to look at himself in the uneven glass of the old walnut-framed mirror. what he saw evidently pleased him: clear blue eyes which could laugh or be very angry, wrinkles at the outer corners more from smiling than from squinting into the sun, a two-days' growth of heavy black stubble over cheeks both ruddy and tan, a good, straight english nose which went oddly but well with the slightly spoiled, pouting mouth; good teeth, a high forehead which bulged at the temples, but was in no way out of proportion to the leonine head with its mass of graying curls. he pulled at his jowls tentatively. no use shaving until sunday morning. "thought you rang the dinner bell, sarah," he said smilingly as the hot, somewhat harassed woman shuttled back and forth from the roaring cook stove to the kitchen table. "guess we'll have time for a tune." he crossed the wide, low-ceilinged room to the graphophone on the big desk under the north window, pushed aside mail-order catalogues, the ten-pound family bible and back numbers of farm magazines, gave the little crank a dozen turns, and from a homemade box studded with big wooden pegs drew a heavy cylinder record. "edison record," the huge tin horn painted like a tiger lily bragged in a cracked barytone. "for i picked a lemon in the garden of love where they say only peaches grow...." "you play that just to tease me," the woman said. she spoke softly and indulgently as a mother might speak to a mischievous child. early ann came in with an armload of smoothly split oak and hickory which she dumped into the wood box. her strong round arms looked very capable for the task and there was something delightful about the disarray of her blond curls and the little beads of perspiration on her forehead. her movements were effortless and unstudied. stanley found himself perplexed. where had he seen the girl before, years ago? there was a momentary flash of moonlight and willow trees, but the vision evaded him. he gave up the puzzling problem as gus, the hired man, came in from the barns. "it's hawg cholera this time all right," announced the excruciatingly ugly man. "i don't doubt every one of them poland chinas'll be dead by next sunday." "that ain't hog cholera, and you know it," said stud. "well, if it ain't it ought to be," said gus, slouching into his chair at the table. "i'm plumb sick of them hawgs." "they're good hogs," stud said. "what's the matter with 'em?" "matter!" said gus. "there's plenty the matter. you treat 'em better than you treat your hired help, that's what's the matter. i'll probably be sittin' up all night with that sow holding a hoof and takin' her temperature." "it's better company than you usually keep nights," said stud. "there you go again," gus complained, "always accusing me of being out nights. you know as well as i do that i ain't courted a girl in twenty years." "and with all the girls from brailsford junction to the fort raring around like mares in heat every time they get sight of you." "hush, stanley," said sarah, "don't forget early ann." "she'll just have to get used to us, sarah," stanley said. "she'll have to get used to the way we talk around here." "ain't we going to eat sometime today?" gus asked. "i thought i heard the dinner bell." "there, the duck's just done," said sarah. she slipped it deftly onto the willow-ware platter. "duck on a saturday?" asked stud with mild surprise. he viewed the sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, the great bowl of gravy, baked apples, bread-and-butter pickles, the pile of hot homemade bread in thick slices, the apple and gooseberry pies and large graniteware pot of coffee with something like lust. "duck on a week-day?" "you know peter came home today. he.... oh, stanley, he's quit school! he said he couldn't stand it another day." "and so we kill the fatted calf," said stanley quietly. "well, why doesn't he come to dinner? what's keeping him?" "he's upstairs changing into his overalls. you might as well begin." she stopped half way between the stove and table as stud began the blessing. she cast her eyes down as the words ran on.... "god is great and god is good, and we thank him for this food...." she saw the wide pine boards of the kitchen, worn white and smooth from years of scrubbing. then she shut her eyes and said a little prayer of her own for peter and for stanley brailsford. something was troubling young peter brailsford, something he couldn't quite get at or understand. he wasn't at all certain why he had run away from school in brailsford junction, or why he had come home instead of hooking a freight for chicago as he had originally planned. he hated school, and the farm, and most of all himself. he hated all the girls in the world. he was shy in the presence of his father, and sometimes felt a flare of impatience, almost dislike for the older man. he had left the dinner table quietly, slipped on a sweater patched at the elbows, glad to be away from the hired man's teasing, from his mother's over-solicitous love. he strode across the lawn, leaped the fence, and started up the lane to look for the ponies, wondering in his mind who this new girl could be, thinking of the hot, angry scene in the principal's office when he had announced that he was quitting, remembering how he had thrown his books into the creek, and jumped on his new red motorcycle, wild to be feeling the wind in his hair. but even the thought of that happy, rebellious ride on his fine fast motorcycle with its shining nickel headlight and bright red mudguards was not enough to keep his mind from running hot with the vague injustices of the world. he kicked viciously at the tall dandelions and convenient lumps of dirt. yet he could not have told precisely what it was that angered him, nor why the great peaceful spring had not caught him up as it had the rest of the world to warm his blood. he'd show them! he'd show everybody! all the stuck-up town kids with their smart ways, all the girls, stanley, his mother, gus, everybody! there was a great deal wrong with the world young peter thought. much that could be better. he had never noticed before he went away to high school how his father and the hired man bullied his mother with their laughing banter, nor how cluttered the parlor was with its stuffed birds. momentarily he hated every inch of it: the stink of the barnyards, the cruelties of birth and death forever taking place about the farm; gus the lecherous hired hand whispering to him of secret pleasures,--gus forever proclaiming his hatred for women yet tearing out the underwear-clad wenches in the mail-order catalogues to hide in his bureau drawer. then with the inconsistency of youth in springtime peter forgot his troubles upon seeing lake koshkonong spread out before him, flecked with whitecaps in the sun. he forgot his hatred for school, his contempt for farming. he cut himself a thorn stick and swished it through the deepening grass, whistled "alexander's ragtime band," and with an awkward attempt at the tango whirled and bent and thumped his feet holding his visionary partner with a grace which he imagined would have shamed vernon castle. he clapped for an encore, bowed deeply to the girl, then feeling in his pockets found fish-hooks, sinkers, and dead night crawlers. "i'll go fishing catfish," he thought with excitement. "i'll get me some dead minnies, some rotten liver, and some clams." swinging along the lane, throwing stones at sparrows and adventurous woodchucks, he came at last to the back pasture covered with hazel bushes, sumac and thorn-apple trees. he made his way along the cowpaths calling the ponies, looking behind the clumping elderberry bushes until at last he came upon them. the little admiral ran up whinnying to nuzzle for the sugar lumps peter usually carried, and there beyond stood the patient mare guarding her new-born colt, the wickedest-looking little fellow who ever tried to scamper on unsteady legs. he had been licked as clean as down and his small black hooves were as bright as jewels in the wet grass. the mare regarded him with troubled eyes and every now and again ran her wide nostrils over his flanks tenderly. so this was why the mare hadn't come down to the barnyard that morning! peter slipped his arms under the warm pony colt to carry him home. the mare patiently followed. chapter ii stud brailsford stopped his team of sorrel mares beside the old mill and blacksmith shop, led jinny in through the wide doorway and tied her to a wrought-iron ring worn with sixty-five years of friction. he lit the charcoal in the forge, pumped the ancient foot-bellows, and buried a shining shoe in the bright coals. "this ain't going to hurt you a bit," he told the nervous mare. "your ma, and your ma's ma, and a long ways back of that got nice new shoes in this same smithy." he whistled happily as he rolled up his sleeves, showing huge brown arms with bulging biceps, tied on a leather apron, and lifting the heavy hammer gave the anvil a couple of preparatory whangs, bell-like strokes which rang out across the valley of the stream all the way to cottonwood hill and back again. "blamed if i don't like shoeing a horse," he told the sorrel. "nothing like it to set a fellow up in the morning." stud had a weakness for his blacksmith shop and the adjoining mill which had once ground all the grist and cut all the lumber for the entire countryside. the old stone building was in ruins now, the mill-wheel fallen, and the dam washed away, moss and vines covered the rotting roof; but stud would not tear it down. he liked to come down here on a wet day and tinker around in the pile of wheels and machine parts which littered the floor. at a bench in one corner he kept his paraphernalia for stuffing birds, in another his saws and planes and chisels, his brace and bits and other woodworking equipment. he liked to make things, and fix things, and whang away at his anvil. "have to fix that bellows with a new cowskin," he announced to no one in particular. "must have been made before the civil war by my granddaddy--and what a great old fellow he was!" stud fished the glowing crescent of iron out of the coals and set to work with his hammer. "tailor made shoes for a pretty lady," he told the anxious mare. "can't go barefoot like a blamed little foal." so he had heard his father talk to sleek and shining mares in this same blacksmith shop, and so his father's father had doubtless talked to _his_ horses on this very spot. stud had a sneaking fondness for horses and ancestors. particularly the big men who had come swinging into wisconsin in the eighteen-forties to open up this country as if by miracle. he had heard his father tell of the stormy voyage from england in a sailing ship, the long journey up the canal and through the great lakes, the landing at milwaukee where the candle-lit taverns were over-run with settlers, frontier merchants, gamblers, whores, and itinerant ministers of the gospel who shared the unpartitioned floors, and waded democratically through the deep mud in the tavern yard where scores of oxen were tethered beside their clumsy carts. stud himself remembered the last of these "toad-crushers" with wheels cut from cross-sections of huge oak trees. loaded with lead and pulled by as many as eight yoke of oxen, these carts drew the metal mined in galena and exeter across the wilds of intervening wisconsin to the lake port of milwaukee. the drivers were a wild and frisky crew, stud had been told. it shocked and titillated his righteous old daddy (who had watched the ox teams from this very window) knowing how the drivers whored and played at cards in milwaukee and the thriving town of galena. great fellows and great times, thought stud brailsford, dipping the hissing shoe into the tub of green water beside the anvil. men who could carry a three-hundred pound barrel of salt up a steep loft stairs, big jock macreedy who had set the nine-hundred pound oak cornerpost on the lower eighty. his grandfather's brother (for whom brailsford junction was named) who had single-handed lifted the millstone in this very mill into its place. "hold up there, jinny," he admonished, lifting her tasseled leg and catching the hoof between his leather knees. "this ain't going to hurt you a bit, jinny. nice new shoes for a pretty lady." there had been a log house on the farm where the brick one stood now, and stud had often heard his father tell how the deer came to eat the cabbages, and how one night a cougar had looked in at the window.... rain came in through the cracks in the hand-split hickory shingles, it whipped into the faces of the eight children sleeping in the loft on the corn-husk mattresses ... rain and snow in the winter, mosquitoes in the summer. cracks between the logs which no amount of mudding would completely fill. stud could just remember the log house; it had been torn down the year he was five. there were wide stone fireplaces at either end of the big downstairs room, tallow candles made in a mold brought over from england on the sailing ship, a flintlock rifle with which his father could hit a squirrel at one hundred yards. there had been sweet-smelling roots and herbs hanging from the beams, seed corn, hams, and traps for catching bobcats and foxes that came to steal the chickens. and kids all over the place. three girls and five boys.... stud wished he could have a family of husky youngsters like that. he didn't blame sarah for the fact that all of her babies had died except peter. but he did wish that peter could have been a real farmer. he wished that he would quit mooning around and find a girl and use his fists more often. he wondered if the boy would actually run away to chicago to work in an automobile or trailer factory. it made him bitter to think that farming wasn't good enough for his son. stud drove home the tapered horse-shoe nails with a viciousness which made the mare dance like a tumble-weed. "whoa, there, you ornery piece of horseflesh. act like a lady or i'll larrup the living daylights out of you." times were soft, stud argued. kids got notions in their heads. like peter wanting to build automobiles or trailers. everyone riding instead of walking, talking about a device to milk cows by electricity, wearing gloves for husking in the fields. when stud was a boy men husked corn bare-handed. he could remember how his fingers cracked and bled in the cold, how one could follow his trail across the snow by the drops of blood. at night the men laughed about their split fingers, rubbed in hot tallow, and next morning went at it again. underwear was a luxury and almost unknown. men wore their coarse homespun against their skin. the burrs in the virgin wool scratched like pins and needles. stud put another horse-shoe into the charcoal and worked the bellows. he tossed a handful of hickory nuts through the open window into the pig pen where the big sows cracked them between their teeth and swallowed them with noisy gusto. stud noticed that the sick sow was back on her feet again and as greedy as any of her fantastically enormous sisters. better hogs than we raised in the old days, he thought. that's one place we've improved. men get meaner and weaker and filthier, while hogs and cattle get to be better animals every year. that's on account of the way we breed the beasts. no romance. no guessing what's under a bustle. just hard-headed facts and scientific breeding. do the human race some good to have a first rate breeder put in charge for a few generations. "whang, whang," went the hammer on the anvil as sparks flew out like fourth-of-july. "hissss" went the second shoe in the tub of scummy water. the smithy was filled with the delectable odor of hot metal and scorching hooves and dung, age old dust and the first breath of crab-apple blossoms now bursting on the scraggly black trees beside the smithy window. man got meaner and smaller while the animals got greater and finer, thought stud again, and that was why a man could give his best years to raising jersey bulls like napoleon, or percheron stallions like teddy roosevelt ... could care for his cattle almost more than his family. there was a decency about animals not to be found in men. this he had known ever since as a young man--a spoiled but good-looking young fellow who dominated his daddy and bought the big farm for a song--he had found that one can't trust bankers, share farmers, renters, or hired men, but one can trust horses, cows, and pigs.... "give 'em your best and they'll give you their best," thought stud. and no stock in the rock river valley had better care or better feed than the brailsford stock. stud thinks now, seeing peter dash down the road like mad on his new red motorcycle, that a buggy was good enough for him at that age. no, he didn't get his first buggy until he was eighteen. it had red wheels and a fringed whip-socket, and his father had given him a spanking bay gelding to go with it. what a figure he cut courting sarah to the tune of "i'm the man who broke the bank at monte carlo".... black curls, a little mustache turned up at the ends, derby hat, pants tight over strong rippling thighs, smart checked coat. a dashing young giant, muscled like a bull. and sarah in her long flaring gown, curls down the back of her neck, rows and rows of buttons, puff sleeves and a waist so small he could reach around it with his two hands. "ah, sarah, you were beautiful then," stud says aloud. he slaps the mare sharply across her gleaming flank. "get going, you lazy piece of horse flesh." miss temperance crandall bustled along the road with the air of a woman who has a mission in life. she noticed with shocked delight that there were several pairs of young women's bloomers on the barton wash lines, no corset covers, and scarcely any petticoats. bloomers, of all things! that was really too much. temperance crandall still wore drawers, and she always said the underwear her mother wore was good enough for her. the diapers hanging in snowy squares behind the tumble-down oleson household reminded her that the oleson baby was born less than seven months after the young couple were married.... september, october, november, december, january, february, march, she counted again. and you couldn't tell her it was a seven-month baby. she had traipsed all the way out from town the second day after it was born to bring mrs. oleson a baby sweater she had knitted, and she had had a good look at the cute little brat. perfectly good fingernails and a huge mass of blond hair. peter brailsford and dutchy bloom were coming down the road a mile a minute on their motorcycles, and just before they reached the spot where she was standing dutchy stood up on the seat, let go the handlebars, and started yelling like a wild indian. why, he might have killed her! he might have run right over her. "you better watch out, young man," she shouted after him, shaking her parasol. "you can't go up the narrow road to heaven on a motorcycle. you're just tearing down the wide, primrose path to hell." the motorcycles were making so much noise that dutchy did not catch the full import of her remarks, but he turned, nevertheless, and thumbed his nose in answer. she went in at the brailsford gate, took the letters out of the mail-box as she went by, stopped behind the lilac bush at the turn of the flagstone walk to peer through the envelopes, then composing bonnet, shawl, flounced skirt, and lace parasol climbed briskly up the wooden steps and opened the front door. "sarah!" she called. "oh-h, sarah! it's just me, temperance crandall. i just came to tell you...." "why, do come in, miss crandall," said sarah, wiping her hands on her apron. "won't you sit down?" "i really haven't a minute," said the determined and bright-eyed person. "i've got to tell everybody along the road about the church supper next wednesday night. i knew you'd bake the pies, sarah. you do bake the loveliest pies if you would only use a little more shortening in the crust and be careful not to put too much cinnamon on your apples." "yes," said sarah, "i suppose i can bake the pies." "oh, not all of them. just ten or fifteen. i'll have the barton girls bake the rest. they ought to do something for the good of their souls. why, when i went past there a minute ago i saw they had bloomers on the line." "i think bloomers are real sensible," said sarah brailsford. "oh, you do!" said temperance. "well, i don't. and what's more when i was listening in this morning to see if old man whalen had got over his d.t.'s i heard kate barton and that good-for-nothing joe whalen going on something scandalous, throwing kisses over the wire and whispering about saturday night. you can't tell _me_ that silk bloomers do a girl's morals any good." "why shouldn't a girl have pretty underclothes?" asked sarah. "they won't have many years to dress pretty and have a good time." "i'm going to tell reverend tooton to preach a sermon on girls' bloomers," said temperance. "what those girls need is a good dressing down and not so much dressing up. i must hurry back to town and see him this very afternoon.... but what i came to tell you about, sarah...." "yes?" "well, now i sorta hate to do it. but it's for your own good." "i'm sure we understand each other," said sarah brailsford, coolly, sitting proudly in her straight-backed chair. "well, i'm no one for beating about the bush," said miss crandall. "and far be it from me to stir up any trouble in a christian household. but if you ask me, i'd watch that early ann." "would you mind if i closed the door into the kitchen?" sarah asked quietly. "no, shut the door so the hussy can't hear us," said miss crandall, "not that you can ever keep a secret from a hired girl so long as there are keyholes." "what was it you were going to say?" "well, now, sarah. i just want to do you a good turn same as i would expect you to do for me." "will you please come to the point, miss crandall?" "since you insist, sarah, and may the lord forgive me for telling you. but i think you ought to know that early ann sherman is stanley brailsford's daughter, and the way they cut up together makes it all the nastier." sarah brailsford swayed faintly, caught herself, and rose unsteadily to her feet. her face was white and pinched, but her voice was clear and proud. "i'll bake the pies, miss crandall." she opened the door with a hauteur which quieted even the garrulous temperance crandall. and it was not until she was beyond the lilacs that temperance started worrying. "now i've done it again. but someone had to tell her." "you're a jinx," gus told early ann as he stood beside her in the lamp light helping with the dishes. "nothing but rain since the night you came. never knew it to fail. that's what comes of having a strange girl on the farm." "i ain't a strange girl," said early ann. "i certainly ain't as strange as you are. you're the strangest guy i ever seen." "all gundersons have got faces like mine," said gus sadly. "you ain't homely," said early ann. "you're awful handsome. can you tango or sing,'you great big beautiful doll'?" "i can't sing nothing," gus said. "can't carry a tune worth a cent. stud says maybe i could sing better if i had my tonsils cut." early ann giggled. she looked up with flashing eyes at the dour hired man and winked wickedly. she giggled again. "you ought to see the picture postcards i got and the bon bon boxes, and the dance programs with silk tassels." (how she wished she _did_ have these lovely, unattainable things!) "i bet i could teach you how to do the castle walk." "not me," said gus. "no you don't." he cast an apprehensive glance at the girl and all but let a tureen slip out of his hands. "you bust that tureen and i'll run you out of the kitchen with a broom," said early ann. "my, my!" said gus. "you're a wild woman, ain't you?" "you bet i'm wild." she tossed her shining curls in the lamp light and added a kettle to the gleaming row of copper vessels hanging along the wall. "i used to bite like everything when i was a little girl." "let's see your teeth," said the hired man. she flashed her white teeth, then opened wide her pretty mouth. "yep, you're a biter," gus said. "but you ain't a day over seventeen by the looks of your molars." "you don't know anything about girls," said early ann. "all you know about is horses." from the other room came the voice of sarah reading to stanley by lamp light. her voice was sweet, but particularly colorless this evening. "where'd you come from anyway?" gus wanted to know. "and who are your folks? there ain't no shermans in brailsford junction." "none of your beeswax," the girl said firmly. "it's none of your beeswax where i came from." "not that i care," said gus. "not that i'm curious. ishkabibble! i should worry." "oh, no. you ain't curious. you just got your tongue hanging out and your eyes popping, that's all. you're just running around like a couple of strange new dogs. you ain't curious." "it ain't nice for a girl to talk the way you talk," said gus. "it ain't proper for a girl to talk about dogs like that." "i wasn't talking about dogs, i was talking about you," early ann said. "don't you ever want to be a lady, early ann? don't you ever want to ride in a hansom cab or a limousine, with ostrich plumes in your hat, and a parasol? don't you ever want to learn how to be sweet and talk nice like sarah brailsford?" "she's lovely," said early ann with a sigh. "i sure wish i could be like mrs. brailsford. but i got a tongue like a little snake. i can't help what my tongue says.... sure i want to be a lady and ride in a limousine. i want to be as graceful as irene castle, and dance like an angel, and have a house with swell brass beds and fumed oak mission furniture like you see in the hartman catalogue, and a big cut-glass dish for the center of my table, and real lace curtains, and a new ford with a disco self-starter and...." "gee whiz, you must be figurin' on marrying a millionaire," gus said. "i want things," the girl said. "all i've had all my life is work, work, work." her fervor had flushed her cheeks and brightened her eyes until the vision of young loveliness before him made gus forget that he was a woman-hater. he wished he were a good-looking young fellow with some money. she'd get everything she wanted soon enough. "you better not let temperance crandall hear you talk like that," warned gus. "she'd tell everybody from stoughton to fort atkinson." "what does she look like?" early ann asked with excitement. "has she got a long scraggly neck and a raggedy black parasol, and a black shawl, and does she wear glasses?" "that's her," said gus. "let me get my fingers around that hag's neck," said early ann. "you certainly do talk rough," said the hired man. "i wouldn't want to meet you alone somewhere on a dark night." "she was over here today telling tales about me," said early ann. "they shut the door and i was too proud to listen. she's just a.... oh, gus, she's just a nasty old busy-body. mrs. brailsford came out in the kitchen as white as a ghost after she left and asked for the camphor." "there's something mysterious about you," said gus. "i knew it from the night you came." "it's just talk," said early ann. "they don't know a thing. there's nothing in my life to be ashamed of.... but it seems like old ladies just can't leave a girl alone. there's nobody in my past who...." early ann broke off abruptly in the middle of her sentence. her eyes grew large and the terror crept down her cheeks and caught at the comers of her mouth. she started to scream, then bit her knuckles and with great deliberation turned away from the apparition at the window-pane. by the time gus had rushed out into the yard no one was to be seen and the starlit night was silent and empty. in the parlor sarah still read to stanley, unaware of anything beyond her own circle of lamp light. but as early ann listened in the throbbing stillness she heard the older woman falter and stop. then she heard quiet weeping. "why ... what are you crying about, mother?" she heard stanley ask. "nothing, nothing at all," sarah said. "i--i guess i'm just tired, that's all." chapter iii the basement of the methodist episcopal church in brailsford junction rang with the shouts of children playing tag despite the scolding of their busy mothers. flushed matrons buzzed in laden down with loaves of homemade bread, pans of biscuits ready for the oven, mason jars full of sweet, sour, and mixed pickles, bags of ground coffee, and huge pots of dressed and dismembered chickens so tender and plump that their flesh would have warranted the term "voluptuous" if stewed by a less austere generation. joe whalen, town drunk, general roustabout, and janitor of the church was starting a paper fire in the furnace. "put in more paper," shouted old mrs. crandall, mother of temperance, who had left her room for the first time in months for this occasion. "terrible weather for rheumatism, ain't it?" "terrible," shouted joe. "you don't need to holler at me," said old mrs. crandall. "i ain't as hard of hearing as all that." she pulled her shawl a little tighter about her rheumatic shoulders, and cocked a sly old ear for the salty gossip sister atwell was passing on to sister bailey. girls of high school age, whispering and giggling, twisted long streamers of red, white, and blue crêpe paper in dizzy crescents from pillar to pillar of the festive room, while over each blazing chromo the same laughing girls hung shooting stars, bluebells, anemones, and other spring flowers. the chromos were of the unforgettable period in religious art which offered holy scenes in dazzling triads, stirring masterpieces which could not help but move saints and sinners alike, pictures which carried a message and a warning. "rock of ages cleft for me" with a courageous lady in a white nightgown hanging perilously to a granite cross amid seas which would have sunk the _titanic_; an amazingly tinted "last supper"; christ driving the money changers from the temple with a ferocious rawhide blacksnake which stud brailsford privately admitted a man would not use on a team of balky mules. flowers were also heaped upon the golden oak upright piano, lacking three ivories, sadly out of tune, and showing unmistakable battle scars from the militant hammering it received during every sunday school session, no less than from the attempts of epworth league members to "rag" such sacred selections as "holy, holy, holy." the kitchen was a mad-house. along ten feet of glowing griddles perspiring sisters of the ladies' aid were stewing chickens, thickening gravy, starting great pots of coffee (two hours before suppertime with the result that church supper coffee had a wallop like proof bourbon) cutting slices of home-baked bread, quartering apple, pumpkin, and gooseberry pies, whipping half gallons of jersey cream in wooden bowls two feet in diameter, pouring into boat-shaped cut-glass dishes jars of pickles, glass after glass of jams, jellies and preserves. crocks of golden butter and creamy cottage cheese made a formidable bulwark of richly laden earthenware in one corner, while a phalanx of ice cream freezers stood guard beside the kitchen door. and never except in time of war were seen such tubs of potatoes and kettles of peas. thirty tables for which thirty women had each brought her largest tablecloth were being set with six hundred ironware plates and as many indestructible cups and saucers, while what was smilingly known as the church silverware was lined up, knife, fork and spoon at the right of every plate. it was the scandal of the ladies' aid that some of these pieces of husky serviceware were not stamped as they should have been with "property of the methodist episcopal church" but were labeled instead "property of the first congregational church" or, breath of popery, heresy and damnation, "property of the st. james catholic church." a venturesome member of the ladies' aid who had once attended a congregational supper came back with the juicy information that the congregational church had hundreds of knives, forks, and spoons marked with the bold methodist insignia. this served as an excellent palliative to methodist consciences. no one, of course, had ever worried about what might have been stolen from the papists. into this wild and frantic scene shortly before supper time came sarah brailsford, early ann, and gus. the hired man shuffled sheepishly behind the protecting women folks loaded to the gunwales with apple pies. "oh, sister brailsford, how _do_ you do!" chorused the sisterhood. "my, what lovely apple pies!" they greeted early ann with reserved enthusiasm, insisting she must join the epworth league, and standard bearers. "so important that a girl gets the right atmosphere during her formative years," said sister dickenson. across the kitchen, however, the comments were less cordial: "did you hear? and think of bringing her to a church supper! you mustn't breathe a word but temperance crandall told me in strictest confidence...." meanwhile gus, red of face and almost tongue-tied with embarrassment had been put to work mashing the potatoes. women came with milk, butter, salt, and advice while gus mashed on. gus thought that perhaps he would not have been embittered about women so early in life had it not been for twenty-five years of church suppers. above the first national bank of brailsford junction with its wooden doric columns and gilt-lettered windows was the office of timothy halleck, attorney at law, justice of the peace, dealer in real estate and farm mortgages, notary, and protestant father-confessor for half the town. to him came ranting suffragettes; militant members of the w.c.t.u. bent on destruction of the town's twenty-six easy-going saloon proprietors; the saloon proprietors; fathers of wayward girls; mothers of incorrigible boys; wives who were beaten, and husbands who had been cuckolded. into timothy's great hairy ears were poured the despairs and heartbreaks which have been the lot of man these many centuries. his office was nothing less than amazing. buffalo skulls and polished buffalo horns from his brother's ranch in montana elbowed stuffed fish, antlers of deer, and the head of a wild cat upon the walls; five hundred dusty law tomes filled the sagging shelves; in a glass case stood a shock of prize wisconsin wheat, seed corn, and dirty mason jars filled with every variety of grain known to horticulture. enormous leaves of wisconsin tobacco framed and labeled, indian quivers, and year-old calendars vied for space on the wainscoting. half a dozen swivel chairs and as many spittoons gave the spot an air of luxurious informality to visiting farmers, whose well informed nostrils might have quivered distrustfully at the dusty stench of rotting law books had it not been synthesized with the comfortable aroma from the livery stable next door. timothy halleck himself, six feet two, large-boned, gaunt, hawk-nosed, with great brown eyes deep-socketed and thatched above with bristling brows, white-haired and gruff, ruled like a kindly tyrant in his chaotic kingdom. he was the town's one-man organized charity, a poverty-stricken philanthropist who denied himself so that he might help others; a widower, lonesome and fond of children. he had a few old friends, among them stanley brailsford now entering his office. "well, timothy," said stud, uncomfortable in his serge suit and well-blacked bulldog shoes, "still making a living robbing the widows and orphans?" "sit down, you lazy, hog-breeding son-of-a-gun and have a cigar," said the lawyer. "how are those emaciated razor-backs doing on that run-down farm of yours?" "getting fatter and sassier every week," said stud, biting off the tip of the cigar and scratching a match on the seat of his trousers. "what you been up to?" "just the usual day. forging checks and foreclosing on octogenarians. where've you been keeping yourself?" "anywhere the fish are biting. there ain't much work to be done on a farm in the spring time." "need a good hand?" "maybe you could do my whittling," stud said. "anyhow it's a standing invitation." "might teach you how to raise hogs instead of razor-backs. might breed you some beeves you could tell from bags of bones." "who'd you find to defraud your clients meanwhile?" stud asked. "where would you find a man to run your shell game while you was gone?" the two old cronies glowered at each other joyfully and let fly at the nearest gobboon simultaneously and accurately, a symphony in expectoration which had taken nearly thirty years to perfect. their talk ran on: the spring floods in ohio and indiana, the price of hogs, milk, and eggs, the new trailer factory which was to occupy the old wagon-works on the creek bottom, president wilson and his professorial theories, the german kaiser and his fight to remove one of his tenant farmers, the ridiculous little balkan squabbles. and getting back to their own affairs stud asked, "are you going to the church supper this evening?" "no ..." said halleck slowly. "something about church suppers makes me feel ... martha was always the center of everything, you know." "i know," stud said. "you don't appreciate a woman until you've lost her," halleck said quietly. "no," said stud, "i don't suppose you do." "you're apt to take her for granted." "sarah's happy," stanley said. "we get along all right." "it isn't just getting along all right," the lawyer said, gazing down upon the street where small boys jubilant with spring were fighting, roller-skating, and playing marbles; little girls skipping rope, and chalking squares for sky-blue. "it's treating a woman like another human being. like an individual." he swung his chair to face his life-long friend. "you ain't thinking of taking up woman suffrage, are you?" stud asked with mild sarcasm. "not pankhurst and belle la follette and that sort of thing?" "they don't need our help, stanley. it's we who need theirs. they'll get more than the vote. they'll get rid of corsets, smoke if they want to, go into business, live alone in a room like early ann sherman wanted to...." "i ... i wanted to ask you about her," stud said. "i wanted you to tell me more than you could that night you put her in my spring wagon." halleck hesitated, looked down at the glowing tip of his cigar, then began slowly. "i don't think i know much more about her than you do, stanley. she came to brailsford junction last winter and got a job stemming tobacco in one of the warehouses. she took a room across the track with mrs. marsden,--that front room downstairs with the outside door." "and then ...?" "well, nothing really. she didn't tell anyone where she came from, or who her folks were, or why she wanted to live alone like that. she was pretty and proud and full of spunk, so the gossips got their tongues wagging ... mrs. marsden, and old mrs. crandall, and that blue jay, temperance...." "but what was wrong?" "nothing so far as i know. the hubbards who live next door thought they saw a man around her window one night, and on another occasion mrs. marsden heard her scream, but when she reached the girl's room early ann was alone...." "the sluts." "temperance crandall and a delegation came to me--they always do--and said they wanted to swear out a warrant. i told them they couldn't swear out a warrant for a girl just because she was living alone and there was gossip...." "dirty-minded old women," stud said. "but they insisted it was up to me to do something. they said that if i didn't they would make it so uncomfortable for the girl she would have to leave town. i had to save the kid from that pack of she-bloodhounds." "and you knew i'd been sort of figuring on getting a hired girl to help sarah...." "so i brought her down to your wagon that night. i knew you folks would take care of her. it was a chance to get her away from temperance crandall." "not so sure you got her away," said stud. "temperance turned in at our place the other day. no telling what she dished out to sarah." "she went clear out there to start trouble?" "i reckon she did." "that bitch," said timothy halleck. at the church supper that evening peter had a revelation. maxine larabee brushed against him in the coatroom, and he knew as though he had seen it in the paper that he was in love. not that maxine had even noticed his presence. why should she with every boy in brailsford junction running after her? she had simply swept by in her smart tailored suit and velvet hat exhaling the very faint odor of violets. it was not quite nice to use violet perfume in brailsford junction in . it gave maxine an air of sin and secrecy. peter felt a trifle heady watching her disappear into the forbidden realm marked women from whence came the concerted giggles, shrieks, and titterings of a dozen high-school girls. peter yanked viciously at his two-inch starched collar, polished the bright yellow toes of his bulldog oxfords with his handkerchief, kicked and stamped to straighten the legs of his peg trousers which had an embarrassing manner of working up the calves of his legs exposing a vast expanse of green polka-dot socks to say nothing of the clips of his garters. he hummed through the tenor part to "when it's apple-blossom time in normandy," corrected a few minor errors in his harmony, then with the determination of a martyr entering the arena left the comparative safety of the coatroom and strode manfully into the bedlam of the church basement where whole flocks of chickens were being devoured by the famished methodists. maxine larabee! so that was what had been troubling him! but a fine chance he had with any girl as swell as maxine. particularly now that he had quit school. why, even the college guys serenaded her; so did rich bud spillman the football hero and bully. she had more picture postcards and sofa pillows and fraternity pennants than any girl in rock county. she had about twelve different dresses and six or seven hats, and a hat-pin which was supposed to have a real ruby set in the head of it. a fine chance he had with maxine! peter was so absorbed in this new and disastrous turn of events that he failed to answer the greetings and friendly gibes with which he was met as he elbowed his way to the ticket table, purchased for thirty-five cents a frayed rectangle of cardboard, and finding a vacant seat, set to like the good young trencherman he was. he scarcely noticed when mrs. fulton whisked away his empty plate and returned plump, red, and beaming with a second helping, and he was half way through his pumpkin pie loaded with whipped cream before he noticed that something cataclysmic and world-shaking was about to occur. maxine larabee was taking the chair beside him. "gee, you're a regular swell tonight," the blond vision of loveliness crowned with a coronet braid murmured sotto voce to the embarrassed boy beside her. she looked approvingly at the green polka-dot tie which matched the socks, the black curls slicked down on either side of the central part. "why don't you take me down to the ice-cream parlor and buy me a lover's delight sometime?" "me?" peter asked, astonished. "me take you right down to the ice-cream parlor and buy you an ice-cream sundae?" "why not?" the girl wanted to know. "there isn't any law against it." she had a low, husky voice and a thrilling little laugh which made the goose-flesh stand up on peter's arms and electric chills run up and down his spine. "why don't you take me for a ride on the handlebars of your new motorcycle sometime?" "aw, you'd get hurt," peter said with a tinge of his boyhood contempt for mere girls springing up from some remote corner of his still adolescent mind. "you'd get your skirts caught in the spokes and we'd both go in the ditch." "oh, i would!" said the girl, raising her eyebrows. "oh, i would, would i! well, i didn't the night bud spillman took me for a spin on his motorcycle." "i can go faster than bud spillman," peter said irrelevantly. "i ran him ragged the day we raced home from janesville. i can go a mile a minute on my machine." "give me a ride sometime and let's see you do it." "but gee whiz, maxine...." "gee whiz, nothing!" the girl said. "either you give me a ride on your motorcycle or i won't let you take me down to the ice-cream parlor." "i'll give you a ride," peter promised, glowering at the bit of pie-crust he was pushing about with his fork, "i'll give you a ride that'll blow all the hair pins out of your hair." the girl tittered quietly. "you _are_ a dear," she murmured. "but here comes mother. i'll see you at eight down by the post office." peter got up hurriedly as mrs. larabee, a buxom blonde of forty with exaggerated gibson girl figure nosed her way like a lake freighter through the lesser craft between her and her pampered daughter. "won't you have my chair?" said the boy with a mixture of guilt and gallantry. "no, mrs. larabee, i'm absolutely all through with supper." he disappeared like an eel into the milling crowd. outside it had started to rain lightly. he walked without hat or coat through the misty spring dusk, his brain a tumult of conflicting emotions. oh, she was a beautiful girl. such big, clear blue eyes, such shining blond hair ... like, like a regular gold crown on her head. her skin was as soft as ... as the petal of a flower, and she had the littlest feet. he wasn't worthy of her. he wasn't even worthy to touch the hem of her garments. he, a big awkward farm boy without any manners. he wished he could give himself a good poke in the jaw for not saying right away, "why, of course, maxine. i would be delighted to give you a ride on my motorcycle." he thought he must be going crazy to have argued with her like that when she had just decided to notice him for the first time in their lives. "you big country boob," he said abusively, "i'll bet a town fellow would have known what to say." his eyes and throat felt so funny that he thought maybe he was going to cry, but he choked back the tears angrily and hurried on through the spring evening watching the nighthawks skimming low over the houses, and the strange, soft flight of the bats. the wind sighed in the newly feathered elms and the arc-lights sputtered menacingly. he felt incredibly alone, infinitely removed from the rest of the world. no other boy in history had been so suddenly and deeply in love, so troubled and filled with foreboding. he had never known such a hurt as he now felt in his breast, such an unbelievable longing, although for what he could not say. long before eight he was standing at the post office corner, and there he stood in the mist until long after nine. maxine did not come. chapter iv on the brailsford farm the season rushed tumultuously into june bringing honey-locust bloom, wild roses, blue spiderwort and vetch, changing black fields to the geometrical green of growing corn, transforming attila, the black pony colt with his white star and fiery eyes into a frisking, mischievous rascal who worried his mother constantly, metamorphosing the jersey calves from fawn-eyed babies delicate as gazelles into willful stubborn young ladies who butted their pails of skim milk all over the barn lot. "you little she-devils," said gus, "you carnsarned little hussies, keep your heads in your own pails and try to learn some table manners." but either gus was never cut out for a barnyard emily post, or the husky young heifers, shoats, and foals didn't give a tinker's damn which was the salad fork, for certainly to the most casual observer it was obvious that the little pigs thoroughly enjoyed wallowing in the delicious swill that filled their feeding troughs, loved to hang on squealing and complaining while their matronly mothers wandered aimlessly about the pig yard, and had no objection to nosing through the fence for a sinful afternoon among the radishes, peas, and lettuce of the garden plot. attila, with forefeet braced, tugged at the mare's black udders until she sometimes turned and nipped his downy hide, and once when the foolhardy little colt started nuzzling around his daddy's flank, the admiral, insulted to the very core of his masculine being, kicked and bit his tactless son into temporary good behavior. nor were the black kittens in the barn above stealing milk from the brimming milk pails. peter, his imagination soaring at the thought of a trailer factory in brailsford junction, dreamed through the corn on the sulky cultivator, went through the whole eighty acres of waving green, then started through it again in an endless battle against the weeds. early ann picked half a milk pail full of wild strawberries on a southern slope. the tobacco land was worked and reworked until the soil was as fine as silk before the tobacco setter with its big red barrel began its monotonous journey back and forth across the field leaving rows of green plants in its wake. gus and peter dropped plants from the low rear seats while stanley drove the team, sitting high up on the barrel. evenings the men, covered with dirt and sweat, went down to the lake to bathe, waded out over hard sand nearly one hundred yards until they were in water deep enough for swimming. they splashed and roared and spluttered, sometimes raced half a mile out into the lake and back again. the corn grew so fast that stud claimed you could hear it if you listened carefully at night. the pumpkin vines between the hills of corn spread wide green leaves, and the spring lambs which stud was pasturing in peas and clover began to look like something which would taste good with mint sauce. at last it was haying time. and so with hard work and little time for play stanley and sarah brailsford approached their twentieth wedding anniversary. one evening early ann, peter and gus got out the croquet set for a dashing game on the front lawn. stanley and sarah brought out their rockers to furnish a gallery. a catbird who thought he was a bobolink was singing in the topmost branches of the poplar tree. "i get the red ball and mallet," early ann announced. "they're mine," cried peter. "i always use the red ones." "try and get 'em," early ann taunted. swinging the mallet menacingly she dashed behind the lilac bushes and out again, encircled the mail box and the big oak tree, and, laughing and screeching came to grips with peter on an open strip of lawn. he tried to wrench the mallet from her hands and was surprised at her strength. "just try," early ann panted. she fought with a desperation which amazed the boy. her hair came tumbling down and her eyes flashed fire. suddenly she let go of the mallet and tore into peter with small hard fists and flying feet. stud was laughing until his sides hurt. gus was rolling on the ground with mirth. while sarah, seeing that the struggle was getting rough, cried out in consternation, "children, children!" "i hate you," early ann whispered passionately. "i'll scratch your eyes out." "don't hurt yourself," peter advised with a superior, mocking note in his voice. he had her firmly by the arms now in a grip which he knew was hurting, but she did not flinch. in another moment she was laughing and straightening her hair, but she recovered and kept the red ball and mallet. the game began in the fighting atmosphere of technical pride, and deadly serious rivalry, which had marked the pioneer stump-pullings and sod-breakings of an earlier day, and which lived on in mortal golfing and bridge frays of the 's. gus and peter handled their striped wooden balls on the smooth green lawn with an accuracy which would have done credit to an expert of the cue driving the ivories about a billiard table. gus was known for miles around as the croquet fiend who had scored all the hoops in one turn at a sunday school picnic, while peter could often run a hoop from a most disadvantageous angle. early ann made up in temperament what she lacked in technical skill, and, whenever she had a chance to roquet on peter's ball, sent him flying off into the deep grass. "if taft had played croquet instead of that sissy game golf, he'd still be president," stud said. "if he'd pitched a good game of horseshoes he could've been king." "think of them white house lawns," sighed gus. "gee whiz! if i was president i'd make me the gol darndest croquet court you ever did see." "why don't we play like we used to, stanley?" sarah asked. "the kids are too good for me," stud admitted. "but i'll tell you what i'll do...." "tomorrow?" "you bet! i'll challenge you to a game for our twentieth wedding anniversary, sarah." they touched hands for a moment, shyly, hoping the others would not see. playing grimly and consistently well, peter overtook gus and sent that doleful individual into loud and vituperative lament by driving the farm hand's ball under the distant front porch. he made his next hoop, roqueted on early ann, and continued his run to win the game. he couldn't help comparing early ann sherman to maxine larabee as they began their second game in the heat of bitter competition. "early ann's all right for croquet, or swimming, or a tussle on the lawn. but she's not much of a lady," he decided, "and nothing at all like maxine larabee." he shouldn't have let himself think of them in the same breath. early ann was nothing but a she wild-cat, and a tomboy. once she had pushed gus over the wood box; and she said "damn" when she got mad; and gus had even seen her trying to smoke a cigarette. maxine would never do anything like that. maxine would be ashamed to tussle or swear or even raise her voice. maxine was a lady in every sense of the word. she looked just like the beautiful women in the magazines, with her picture hats and delicate motoring veils. peter bet if he could only have a new white steamer she would notice him again as she had that night at the church supper. she might even let him take her for a ride way down the river road where they could have a weenie roast and sing songs together. she might go to janesville with him for a movie and a midnight supper. except that maxine wasn't the kind of a girl who would eat a midnight supper with any boy. one of the fellows had told peter that she was that kind of a girl and peter had blackened both his eyes and made him eat dirt and yell "enough." it made him fighting mad when any other boy even mentioned her name casually. he always felt like saying, "you leave her name out of this," the way men did in stories. but he was afraid it might sound silly. the way she walked! just wheeling along as though all her joints had ball-bearings. she was one girl who didn't need to practice with a book on her head to get a perfect carriage. and her golden hair, done up a new way every day. and such lovely white hands and pretty nails. no, early ann just wasn't in maxine's class. "your turn," gus shouted at peter. "better stop dreaming about your girl and try to learn croquet. i've got you down for the count this time around." "listen, hayseed," peter said, "you better crawl into your cellar because this trip i'm going to blow down your shanty." he took careful aim allowing for a little rise he knew in the lawn, curved gracefully and improbably through the distant hoop, roqueted on the astounded hired man's ball, drove him into a tangle of raspberry bushes, and made two more hoops before missing. "nothing but a greenhorn's luck," gus complained. he fished his ball out of the thorns, brought it to within a mallet's-length of the court, and promised himself sweet vengeance with plays of prodigious technical brilliance when next it came his turn. the summer dusk came down about them sweet and still. far away over the hills they could hear the church bell calling the faithful to thursday night prayer meeting in brailsford junction. the chimney swifts and martins filled the evening sky with their graceful, airy geometry, and the nighthawks swooped so low above them that one might see the pale oval underneath each wing. far down the lake in some deep tangle of woods the whip-poor-will began. sarah hurried off to the ice house to fetch the half freezer of homemade ice cream left from supper, and with it a bowl of sugared strawberries. the game over, early ann went in for soup bowls and table-spoons. and together on the lawn, under stars so large, soft, and near they seemed almost to be caught in the upper branches of the oak tree, they ate such a dish for the gods as one may never find in these later years in distant cities. the frogs began in the marshes along the lake. the crickets shrilled. silence was all about them like a song. after they had eaten, peter and early ann pulled up the hoops and pegs, gathered the balls and mallets in their arms. they walked down the dusty driveway to the wagon shed carrying the set, and stopped at the milk house for a long cold drink from the pump. they were too quiet, too delightfully tired and calm to wish to talk. their struggle was forgotten, and there was no upsetting emotion of love or hate to keep them from kicking in comradely fashion through the dust. then something altogether out of keeping with their mood shattered the evening. the horses in the barn yard whinnied in fright; there were startled hoof-beats; a cow mooed anxiously. "don't go," early ann pleaded, holding to the boy. "it might be...." gus and stud came running. "someone after the stock, you think?" gus asked. they hurried in a straggling group down to the barnyard gate, saw a shadowy figure jump the far fence and disappear into the dusky brush lot, crashing through the branches. "tried to get in from the back road," stud decided, "came up the lane and found himself in the barnyard. just a tramp, i guess." but early ann had her own opinion. there are nights when men and women cannot sleep but lie awake talking until almost dawn, nights when they feel suddenly articulate after long months or even years of silence. these nights are better spent in talking than in sleep or even in love. stanley and sarah brailsford went up to their room with a lamp. a cool wind was blowing from the lake rustling the old lace curtains at the window. stanley set the lamp with its brightly polished chimney, neatly trimmed wick, and glass base filled with kerosene (in which the lower end of the wick floated like some pale, peculiar fish) upon the jig-sawed walnut bureau with its cracked mirror, and tatted bureau runner. the lamp light emphasized his gigantic proportions, projecting his huge shadow on the walls and ceiling, lighting one half of his strong face and leaving the other in darkness. he took off his number eleven shoes, red and white cotton socks, and coarse blue shirt stained at the arm pits. he yawned enormously. quickly, with little movements almost shy, sarah brailsford unfastened her gray-sprigged percale waist and skirt. she took off her shoes and stockings as though she were ashamed to have stanley notice that the shoes were cracked, misshapen, and run over at the heel, the black lisle stockings one great mass of careful darns. before she removed her undergarments she slipped her nightgown on over her head and worked beneath the gown unfastening her patched unmentionables. sarah wished she could have pretty bloomers like the ones on the barton line. stud could afford a new thrashing machine that year but no new clothes for the family. she hung her garments neatly on a chair. unlike his careful wife, stud brailsford threw off his clothes and strode about the room in his long knit drawers like an early picture of john l. sullivan if you overlooked stud's graying hair. he stood at the window looking out at the moonlit night, enjoying the tickle of the wind in the heavy damp mat of hair on his big chest. he scratched luxuriously with big blunt fingers, then turned and rubbed his back against the window frame, yawned, blew out the light, kicked off his drawers, and threw himself naked upon the cool sheet. the slats of the bed creaked and groaned under his weight, and sarah, as always, held herself a little rigid so that she would not roll down into the hollow he created. by morning she might be snugly against him, but that would come about slowly through the relaxation of sleep during the long night. moonlight flooded the room glinting upon the flaked mirror, the oval chromos in walnut frames on either side of the dresser, the big white and gold washbowl and pitcher on the warped wash-stand, the tin chimney-hole cover gilded and decorated with a romantic landscape, the enamelware pot underneath the bed. it came sweetly over the face of sarah who in this light was beautiful even at the age of forty-three. outside there were night sounds: a hoot owl whooing from cottonwood hill, a farm dog howling at the moon, and far away across the lake an answering howl from some equally miserable brother in sorrow. the curtains billowed, moths brushed against the screen, a bittern croaked in desolate flight over the marshes. for some reason they did not fall asleep. perhaps it was the excitement of the man in the barn lot, perhaps thoughts of the morrow when they would have been wed for twenty long years. "i've been wanting to ask you for weeks now...." "what, sarah?" "about early ann, could she possibly be ...?" "be what?" "i hate to say it, stanley. you've always been so good to me." "aw, sarah, why don't you tell me what's eating you? you ain't afraid of me, are you?" "no, not afraid, i guess. but maybe you won't like it. maybe it will hurt you somehow.... but i must tell you, i can't go on without. is early ann your daughter?" "my daughter!" he sat up straight in bed and turned toward her. "well, now. it ain't altogether impossible." "oh, stanley! i knew it, but i wouldn't let myself think it. only, why did you tell me?" "i don't know what's eating you, sarah. i didn't say for sure she was my daughter. i only said...." "you said it was possible...." she was crying quietly now. "well, a young man sometimes...." "i know. i couldn't be so stupid or so blind as not to see young men all around the country.... but who was she, stanley? no, don't tell me." "i--i don't remember her name," stud faltered. "but i did notice that early ann's face was like...." "i'll treat her real nice," sarah said, addressing the cracked ceiling above her. "i'll treat her just like a daughter. we always did want a daughter, stanley." "aw, sarah," he said. "aw, sarah, i'm sorry." it was almost the first time in twenty years that he had told her he was sorry for anything. it was the first time in ten that he had tried to soothe her with his big, rough hands. she could tell that he was trying not to sob, and a sudden flow of pity came out of her heart for the great, clumsy fellow beside her whom she loved. "i can forgive you," she said. "i can forgive you real easy." "it ain't an easy thing to forgive." "i do forgive you now for being unfaithful, stanley." "unfaithful," he said, astonished. "i don't know what you mean." "but you just said...." "how old is the girl?" "eighteen, she claims." "but, don't you see, sarah. then she can't be my daughter. that would be _after_ we were married." "you mean that never after we were married, not once, not even one time...." there was such a note of joy and relief in her voice that the big man beside her was moved to find her mouth and kiss it. "what a silly woman!" he said. "what a silly girl!" he laughed deeply, and suddenly hugged her until it hurt. she was laughing and crying by turns and kissing him as she had not since their honeymoon. she rubbed his beard the wrong way, thus giving him one of the most delectable sensations he could experience. and he kissed the nape of her neck as he used to years ago. a cock crowed in the moonlight and stanley struck a match to read the time. "why, it's after midnight, mother. it's the nineteenth of june, and we've been married twenty years." book two chapter v _on july , , greece delivered an ultimatum to bulgaria. the g.a.r. turned out en masse for the bicentennial of the battle of gettysburg. the enfranchised women of illinois promised a new era in politics, while deans of co-educational schools raved against the immorality of the tango. big panama hats were all the rage, with ankle length wrap-around skirts and frilly summer blouses. girls ratted their hair and read ford joke books to boys who sat beside them in the hammock holding a box of chocolate creams. pitcher brennan of the phillies socked manager mcgraw of the new york giants. the berry market was firm with a strong tone in swine. in chicago the coroner promised he would do something about the crazy joy riders who had killed twenty people in cook county during june._ but in the home of temperance crandall and her mother nothing else really mattered because now temperance had a huge, careless, messy man to run after and do for. if you had told her six months before that she would stand for a man and a cat in her best bedroom temperance would probably have tongue-lashed you out of her front door and down the street. but there they were, sleeping all day and out all night. a scandal and a caution if you asked temperance. she wanted to blurt it out to the whole town but for once she held her tongue. it was a trial and a tribulation, a plague of boils which would have tried the patience of job. the lord could testify that temperance crandall had the disposition of an angel and the patience of a saint, but even she could be driven only so far and not one inch farther. "he throws his dirty socks and underwear all over the room," she told her image in the mirror. "he misses the porcelain spittoon a foot." she yanked the kid curlers out of her hair with a viciousness which added a tenth of an inch to the diameter of the bald spot which was starting on her crown, twisted her hair into a hard knot at the nape of her neck and punched in hairpins with fury. the filthy man and his dirty cat in her very best brass bed, sleeping under her nicest patchwork quilts, dirtying her monogrammed pillow cases drawn taut and smooth over her finest goose-down pillows. "my land-a-living, why do you tolerate the brute?" she asked her scowling image. "he's the seven plagues of egypt, and that's a fact." biting her upper lip touched with the lightest possible suggestion of a black mustache, she pulled upon the pink strings of her corset until the black enamel eyelets threatened to rip completely out of the fabric, hastily donned a corset-cover, thrust her legs into a luxurious pair of lisle hose, snapped on garters hanging from the corset before and aft, pulled them a bit too tight, added a pair of stiff white petticoats to her ensemble, then plunged like a swimmer into the mass of calico, which, when jerked into position over her gaunt posterior, assumed the general outlines of a dress. for a moment a buttonhook clicked on the beady jet buttons of her high shoes; there was a snap as she pinned the chain of her pince nez to her under-developed bosom. a touch of rose water now and the effect was complete. down the stairs she pattered while the grandfather clock in the hall boomed five of a bright july morning. beyond the hall window the bachelor buttons wore their brightest blue; the four o'clocks were just closing for the day, but the pastel trumpets of the morning glories, the sun-loving zinnias and climbing roses were at their best in a garden which had not changed its general appearance in forty years. she banged the hall door at the foot of the stairs with a violence which shook the light-timbered house and sent down an avalanche of soot around the parlor stove-pipe, marched out the kitchen door and down the garden path to the not unromantic privy covered with grape vines and ivy. later as she washed in a graniteware washbowl in the kitchen sink she ruminated upon the disastrous day she had taken a man into her house. he had come up the long board walk which led back through nearly one hundred yards of trees and shrubbery to the hidden clapboard residence of the crandall women. "heard you had a room to rent," he said, vaguely. "nice and quiet back here." he looked about him with a dull but satisfied air and stroked the big black tom cat in his arms. "it's three dollars a week, mister," temperance had said severely. "that's just for bed and breakfast. i don't do no laundry, and i don't like cats. besides there hasn't ever been a man in my house, and i don't think there ever will be." she banged her feather duster against the peeling porch rail. "that's all right," the man said, "tommy and i ain't particular." "oh, so you ain't particular," she mocked. "well listen here my good man. you'd better be particular when you crawl into my best bed." "i don't want to sleep in your bed. i want to sleep by myself." "don't get sassy or i'll bat you over the head with this feather duster," temperance warned. "all right, sister," the man said. "all right. are you going to rent me the room or ain't you?" "i'll think about it," temperance said. "come in and have a chair but leave that filthy cat out of doors." "it ain't a filthy cat," the man said. "maybe in another life this cat was your grandmother." temperance shuddered. the man stooped to come in through the door--his cat still safely in his arms. he slouched comfortably into a red plush easy chair and put his head back against the lace doily. "three dollars a week in advance," temperance said. "and mind you i have a sick mother who mustn't be disturbed. she's bedfast and hard of hearing, and she'd probably have a relapse if she knew you was in the downstairs bedroom." "i get you, sister." why, temperance crandall! whatever are you thinking of? the good woman asked herself while showing the man to his room. why not tell mother? evil woman! nasty woman! she bustled about the parlor flicking the dust from the gilded cat-tails, ferocious crayon portraits of her ancestors, and the model of the washington monument made of ground-up paper money. but if temperance had any idea she could deceive her mother she was rudely disillusioned the next morning when she took toast and poor-man's tea to the invalid. "temperance," shouted the old lady. "you've got a man in the house." "but, mother. how did you know?" "smelled him," said the old lady. "smelled him?" "tobacco and shaving soap. i'm no ninny." luckily her mother wasn't shocked, said that what they needed around the house was a man. but temperance on due consideration decided not to tell the neighbors. she remembered that brailsford junction was one bee-hive of gossips. they would be sure to suspect the worst and add a few details of their own. how temperance hated gossips! not that everything wasn't christian and proper with her mother there every moment for a chaperon. and not that temperance would carry on with her roomer the way mabel bentley had done with that railroad man. nevertheless some women she knew had evil minds. she didn't trust them. she patted the sofa pillows embroidered with "god bless our happy home" into an engaging fullness of ripe curves, straightened the doily on the easy chair, and singing in a lusty off-keyed falsetto the touching strains of "blest be the tie that binds," rustled off to the kitchen to fix her boarder a tray. my how the morning had flown. eleven o'clock already. high time he was up and eating breakfast, the lazy, filthy brute and his dirty tom cat. such a big strange man. huge, simply huge. and with a ferocious appetite. she thought he would eat her out of house and home. it cost more than three dollars a week to feed the big lummox. "our hearts in christian love," warbled the busy woman as she hastened about the old wainscoted kitchen, banging the spiders and pots loudly enough to wake the dead. he certainly should be up by this time. almost noon, imagine! and temperance up and busy since five o'clock. three boiled eggs, five slices of toast, a whole pot of coffee that held at least five cups, oatmeal in a bowl, cream and sugar, and, well, she might condescend to put one of those rambler roses from over the back stoop upon his tray. not that he would appreciate it, the filthy, lazy thing. he'd better pay his board bill today or she'd throw him out like dishwater. there, that tray looked nice. altogether too nice if you asked temperance crandall. she whisked off her apron, looked into the kitchen mirror for a second, pushed her hair this way and that, sneaked a pinch of flour out of the flour bin and dusted it on her nose with the corner of a dish towel, then assuming the air of fox's entire conference of martyrs picked up the tray for prompt delivery. joe valentine was dreaming about a cat he had for a mascot in the spanish american war, about the time the little tabby scratched hell out of the colonel, when the sharp rat-a-tat-tat at his bedroom door awoke him from his slumber. he pulled the covers up around his chest for the sake of modesty, thus exposing his large left foot. he buttoned the two top buttons of his summer underwear. "come...." "it's just me," said temperance crandall. "i hope i ain't intruding upon your privacy." she hesitated a moment on the sill, then boldly entered the room. "just a bite and a sup," said temperance. she crossed to the bed to set the tray upon her roomer's unaccustomed lap, then screamed in terror as the black cat rose out of the covers like a bad dream, spitting and scratching. "horrid thing," she cried. "evil, nasty thing. you'll be the death of me yet, you two." she took in the room with one scornful glance: the bedspread thrown in one corner, the big shoes on her cedar chest, his clothes in a heap on the floor, a cigar-stub in her hand-painted porcelain pin tray. "ain't you ashamed to be so messy?" she cried, picking up his trousers gingerly and hanging them on the closet door-knob, putting his muddy shoes on the floor and rapidly folding the bedspread, catching the fold in her teeth but never ceasing to talk. "all right," said joe, his mouth full of toast. he pulled a buttery and delicious central tidbit from the slice of toast and fed it to the cat. "cigar ashes everywhere," temperance said. "you're just driving nails in your own coffin with that filthy weed ... nicotine ... plain poison ... look at the yellow on your fingers." "all right," said joe. "why don't you be a man?" said temperance. "you're big enough, the lord knows. why don't you get a job? gadding about all night." "why don't you go do your knitting?" joe asked, wrapping his large mouth around an entire boiled egg. "well, i like that," said temperance crandall, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at the man in her best bed. a pretty figure he cut: hair down in his eyes, a two-days' growth of beard on his face, a nose that went straight for an inch or two then detoured to the right, large loose lips, big even teeth stained with tobacco, heavy biceps that were somehow flabby, shoulders of a tired coal-heaver. the great toe of his large left foot which was protruding from beneath one of her best quilts twitched excruciatingly against the second toe of the same foot. the bottom of the foot was covered with yellow calluses. "you make me nervous," joe said. he took another cup of coffee for a bracer. "after the way i've slaved for you," said temperance; "done all your washing free, fixed your meals at any hour of the day or night when all you should get is breakfast. you're just a filthy brute." "all right," joe said. "no appreciation. never a thank you." "i didn't ask you," joe said. he ripped the center out of another slice of toast and offered it to the cat, then slowly sucked the butter from each of his fingers. "either you pay your board and room today or else ..." she threatened as she flaunted out of the room, slamming the door behind her. she found that for the first time in months she was dangerously near to tears, and she brushed these obvious symbols of weak, womanly emotion out of her tired eyes with angry knuckles. she just wasn't herself lately, she observed. "i ... i'm going through the change of life," she thought, "and lydia pinkham ain't doing me a bit of good." the thought suddenly came to her, as she slumped down beside the window unnoticing of the lush summer just beyond the screen, that there would never be any children for her. and for just a moment she let herself be sentimental and think of timothy halleck, of sleigh-rides through the frosty starlit nights, of virginia reels, and box sociables, of poetry she had written as a girl, and again of timothy halleck, who never knew, and would never know to his dying day that temperance crandall sat by her front window morning and night to see him pass. from upstairs she heard the demanding voice of her mother whom she had taken care of uncomplainingly since her twenty-second birthday. "coming," she called. what did you want, joe valentine? where were you going? wandering through countless nights, your cat on your shoulder! the big man slouched through the alley behind brailsford junction's main street. he passed the litter of broken boxes, barrels and piles of rotting fruit in tangled shadows behind the dingle brothers' general store where bats swept low between the wooden buildings. his feet knew the cinders, and his eyes, like the cat's, could see in the dark. he skirted the cubistic mountains of empty beer cases behind the golden glow saloon, the heap of manure behind the livery stable, the jumble of wrecked parts and rusting bodies piled at the back door of the ford garage. a dirty stream bubbled in the ditch that paralleled the alley, and a huge black rat bloated with young leapt up the ash pile almost level with his face. the cat stiffened like some electric thing, lashed his tail and sprang. the rat went back on her hind legs waving ineffectual little feet exposing her vast soft belly. a shadowy struggle, a high-pitched squeal of terror. the man laughed shortly; slouched on. he passed the ritz royal hotel smelling of hash and strong disinfectant; the barred back windows of the first national bank; the empty ice-cream freezers and cartons behind the tobacco city ice cream parlor. all closed, dark and deserted, no laughter or singing, the player piano still. from the high clock tower of the old town hall the chimes spilled the half hour. far away across the river a train whistled, rumbled over the railroad bridge, was muffled by the intervening hills, rushed dangerously upon the town screaming and clanging, swept westward, died away in a distant whisper of steam and clicking of wheels which lasted in the imagination long after the night was once more silent and deserted. the air was cool now after the long hot day. a breeze from the river valley to the east of the town swept through the alley stirring little whirlpools of dust. the air was suddenly filled with the cool breath of rotting oak leaves, dank river odors, algæ, fish and flowing water. he thought of a shack among the willows, a box-car home on the river bottom; his mother coming home early in the morning, lighting the fire as though she had not been gone for nearly a month. her dancing slippers were covered with mud, her party dress torn. the big man who was his father turned in his bunk, swore at the woman, went out banging the sagging screen door. "look mother," joe whispered, "we got a new kitten while you was gone." river smells, fishing catfish down at the narrows, sitting all night on the sandbar listening to the "tick, tick," far down underneath the water, the splash of muskrats, the little crying noises made by raccoons in the cornfield on the hill, the whip-poor-wills, and the hoarse cry of night birds following the river. oars dipping into the water, boats being pulled up on distant sandbars, the mosquitoes and the damp chill, the lordly battle with a sixteen pound catfish in the dark. bad whiskey, later on a woman. he breathed the night air wistfully. never again a woman's arms about him. lost, deprived, utterly alone. he was not aware of these thoughts as words. he did not think in words but in odors, colors, sounds, and a blind hatred which he could not understand. cheated, haunted by some unknown thing, filled with sudden fear at a footfall, foolhardy in the face of actual danger. a man who could no longer call himself a man since that knife fight with a nigger in rockford, illinois. he came at last to the one light burning in the alley, a dim green globe above a door (three steps down) between two walls of sweating brick. the twenty-six legitimate saloons serving the eighteen hundred inhabitants of brailsford junction were closed at this hour. only the blind pig offered solace to the dago section men, the farm hands making a night of it in town, and hannah leary who had spent half her life looking up at ceilings of empty box-cars on the siding and at stars above the brailsford junction cemetery. joe hesitated at the top of the stairs, drinking in the aroma of the place: sweat, rot-gut whiskey, women. he ran the tip of his tongue over his full, loose lips; felt in his pocket for change. a big man stumbled out of the door at the foot of the stairs, started forward, saw joe blocking the way, and roared in a drunken voice-- "getahelloutamawayou." joe did not move. the man lunged forward, fell, leapt to his feet and charged up the stairs-- "outamawaygodamnya." joe tipped him over with a right to the chin. at the bottom of the stairs once more the man drew a knife and waited his chance. joe took a pair of brass knuckles out of his pocket, slipped them onto his hands, pressed the buttons with his thumbs and little knives appeared on each knuckle. he slashed at the air breathing deeply and feeling fine. he pranced on his toes. "come on up," he offered. the other was more careful now, almost sober. he advanced a step at a time watching his footing, his knife drawn down and back for the uprip, the belly slash. he stank of whiskey and bad teeth. joe let him reach the top of the stairs before he aimed a kick at the knife arm. the man dropped the knife, howling with pain, his arm half paralyzed. he threw caution to the winds, swung with his left, and tried to close. joyfully, methodically, joe slashed him to ribbons with the brass knuckles. the man went down screaming and writhing while joe ran lightly up the alley. he met the cat who sprang up and settled himself in the crook of joe's arm. the cat was heavier now and licking his jowls with contentment. together they dodged through the dark streets and alleys, between houses, and through the crandall garden to the back door. "time we were leaving this dump," joe told the cat. a moment now for throwing his clothes and other few belongings into a knapsack, another moment for mussing up his bed as though he had been sleeping there all night, back to the kitchen door again where temperance crandall stood in her long white nightgown, a lamp in her hands. he reached in his pocket for three dollars and put it on the kitchen table beside the door. "keep it," she said. "ain't that what you wanted?" "i don't want your money." he left her standing there looking at the three dollars on the table. he swung off down the dark street with his cat and knapsack, struck out into the country along the back roads which ran among the poor hill farms to the northeast. the farmhouses were dark. the cattle slept in the pastures. hay was cocked in the fields and the mingled smells of drying alfalfa, timothy, red clover, and sweet clover came to his nostrils. like that early morning he had come along the country road and stopped to pump himself a drink at the farmhouse, and the woman had come out. that was before the fight in rockford. he swung along the dark roads talking to his cat, watching the sky with its sprinkling of large stars. he did not feel so lost since his fight. he almost remembered what it was he was searching for. and so he came at last to the deserted hunting lodge on lake house point early in the morning with the sun on the whitecaps of lake koshkonong and the gulls screaming greedily about the cliff. he looked across the bay to where stud brailsford's barns and growing fields lay sunning under the shoulder of cottonwood hill. chapter vi for days now the main topic of conversation on the brailsford farm had been the merits of the various makes of cars (a much more intriguing subject than the tramp who had been discovered half dead near bad pete's blind pig in brailsford junction). they talked imperials, elcars, cuttings, speedwells, marions, and the swank new garfords with the single headlight. they discussed pro and con the new-fangled gas and electric self-crankers. some members of the family wanted prest-o-lites while others were eloquent for electric. each had his own ideas concerning which of the marvelous creations had the most stylish lines. stud himself liked the notion of a big powerful white steamer. he said with the price of gasoline going up every month a white would soon be a real economy. besides you could go sixty miles an hour in a steamer. "sixty miles an hour!" cried sarah, throwing up her hands in dismay. "shucks, that's nothing, ma," peter said. "i can go sixty on my motorcycle." "yes, and you'll break your fool neck some day," said early ann. "he pretty near went off the busseyville bridge with me on behind last night." "peter, you must be careful," his mother said. "tattle-tale," said peter. he kicked early ann's shins under the table, and she kicked back. "me for an imperial," said gus. "they're twenty years ahead of their time and the classiest looking buggies you ever hope to see." but in the end, of course, they bought a ford, and a second hand one at that, with brass braces in front and a figure that only an owner could love. it stood up in the air like a lumber wagon, and you could hear it coming for a mile. it boiled over at eighteen miles an hour, but that was all right because the worse they boiled the better they went. stud shined the brass radiator until it glittered like the gilded roof of solomon's temple. sunday was spent in tinkering with the magneto, the lighting system, and the carburettor--that was what finally wrecked the sabbath day. you had to hold your thumb just right in cranking the thing to avoid a broken arm, and when the engine finally decided to perambulate the whole body shook like a dish of crab-apple jelly. stud had the appearance of a circus giant cramped over the steering wheel. he had difficulty in manipulating the trio of pedals with his large feet, and the idiosyncrasies of the spark and gas kept him guessing, but he whooped it up and down the road like a youngster with his first bicycle, and sarah held on beside him, game as a red cross nurse in the face of inevitable death. sarah purchased a linen duster and motoring veil. stud bought himself a pair of motor-goggles and a linen cap which he wore like barney oldfield with the visor in back. the entire family grew suddenly sensitive to ford jokes. unfortunately, farming, even in those halcyon days, was not all driving the ford; and so despite races between peter and stud,--the motorcycle versus the tin lizzy,--platonic midnight excursions by gus in the borrowed motorcar, and thrilling family forays about the countryside, work went on as usual about the farm. crops were better than could have been expected. some parts of the great middle west suffered floods in the spring of that year and drought in the late summer, but on the brailsford farm rains and sunny weather were neatly interspersed. the pumpkin vines opened their yellow flowers in corn which was waist-high by the fourth of july. the moisture kept the tobacco from spindling up too soon; it spread wide leaves of velvet green in rows which went as straight as arrows across the fertile north twenty. stud's jersey heifers, sleek poland china shoats, and shropshire lambs looked like blue ribbon material down to the last little orphan. a lively pair of twin kids had the family captivated with their antics. at the age of six weeks this pair of baby billy goats were leaping about the shed roofs like veritable young chamois. sarah discovered four beautiful new hybrids among her gladioli; and her chickens--plymouth rocks and leghorns--might have stepped right out of the pages of the "country gentleman." it was true that sarah felt tired these days, and that ulysses s. grant, the great poland china boar, was acting particularly vicious, but on the whole the farm was running like clock work. almost before the brailsfords realized it the grain had all been cut, and the thrashing crew had descended in a hungry horde upon the farm. some of the oats went sixty bushels to the acre, the wheat nearly forty. what a time they had with the thrashers! the womenfolks from all over the country came to help with the baking and cooking. country kids for miles around rode admiral dewey and his patient wife, took turns in carrying water to the men, slid down the hay rope, begged for cookies, played pomp-pomp-pullaway and run-sheep-run. the teen-aged boys, after work in the fields, wrestled and boxed, not always in fun. the teen-aged girls, who helped their mothers as little as possible, watched the boys and giggled. out in the fields and at the thrashing machine the men labored in the hot, sticky atmosphere with barley beards in their shirts and sweat in their burning eyes. they pitched bundles of grain onto the wagons, pitched them off into the thrashing machine; they drew water for the steam engine and shoveled coal in under the boiler; they carried the great sacks of grain--which poured from the shoot, winnowed, clean, and plump,--and dumped them into the big bins in the granary. they marveled at stud's fine new red and silver thrashing machine with its blower which could send the golden straw into a pile at any point he wished. they looked forward to following this beautiful machine up and down the valley. in sarah's kitchen the hot and perspiring women fairly tumbled over one another in their efforts to prepare for the hungry men. they stewed chickens by the dozen, fried thick slices of ham, made brown ham gravy, boiled pecks of new potatoes, baked pies and cakes and opened cans of pickles. there was nothing fancy about the fare they served, but it was ample. they were jovial, catty, good-natured, cross, polite, or rude as the spirit moved them. they dropped the "sistering" and "missusing" of the church suppers and called each other plain mary, meg, bert, and cissy. they had a perfectly grand time for all their complaining. and when the dirty men burst into the kitchen, joshing and pushing one another over chairs, pouring well water down one another's neck, splashing and crowding at the sink, and asking the women why they couldn't rustle together a little food for the real workers, the women thought of nothing but feeding and humoring the pack. if a man proved too obstreperous, however, these amazons were thoroughly capable of forcing him to eat the extra food for which he was shouting, until at last he had to cry "enough," grinning sheepishly at his defeat, while his fellows jeered and taunted. against their better judgment, and in thorough contradiction to their pre-conceived distrust of early ann, these women were forced to admit some merit in the sherman girl. they noticed how hard she worked in sarah brailsford's kitchen, how, although she kidded with their men-folks, she showed practically no inclination to lure them into the haymow, and how, above all, she was a friendly girl and not at all stuck up about her good looks. good looks she undoubtedly had, the men admitted as they lay about the lawn during the hour of rest after their big dinner. they complimented stud upon his taste in hired girls, and suggested that it was no wonder peter took her for rides on his motorcycle. "she'll be riding a motorcycle herself one of these days," peter said. "she's tomboy enough. i'll bet she could lick most of you guys in a wrastle." "been wrastling her much, kid?" the men wanted to know. "she looks like good wrastling." peter flushed. he had never thought of early ann as a sweetheart. he had been thinking all morning about maxine larabee, and how he hoped she would drive in at one of the farms where he was in charge of the big thrashing outfit. stud had told peter _he_ could be thrashing boss that year and take the fine new machine all over the countryside. it would be wonderful to have maxine hear him giving orders and directing all the men. maybe bud spillman would come up with a sneer on his face right while maxine was there, and peter would knock his block off. nothing could be sweeter. "i'd like to wrastle that girl," one of the men was saying. "i'll bet she'd make good wrastling." during the past few weeks sarah had tried to be particularly kind to early ann. she had noticed how the girl had listened to her manner of speech and tried to imitate it, how she had dropped many of her "ain'ts" and "them theres," and was taking pains to set the table nicely. one day sarah had shown her some of her battered text books left over from distant academy days. early ann had taken them to her room and had painfully waded through several of them during the long summer evenings. she had even asked sarah to show her the notes on the organ and had practiced faithfully at her scales. in matters of personal appearance, however, early ann had a flair which the older woman lacked. she had a way of doing her hair, of wearing a flower or a ribbon which made her beautiful even in an apron. but in matters of tidiness and cleanliness she learned much from sarah. she brushed her teeth more often now, and every evening, to the tantalization of the hired man, bathed in the back pantry before she went to bed. she actually worshiped mrs. brailsford. "you're ... you're wonderful, mrs. brailsford," the girl had told her one afternoon when they were alone in the kitchen fixing supper. "it just seems like you're the kindest thing in god's world. i wish i _could_ be your daughter like you said." when the bins of barley, wheat and oats were full to overflowing and the thrashing crew had moved on to the bussey farm, stud found that work was slack for a moment, and he decided to take a little journey. he filled the gasoline tank of his ford from the big, red barrel mounted on sawhorses beside the milk house, poured two quarts of thick green oil into the engine, and emptied most of a sprinkling can of water into the ever-thirsty radiator. four new tires were lashed to starboard and port. pumps, jacks, kits of tools, tire shoes, and extra inner tubes were stowed beneath seats and in tool boxes. stud had lunch enough for a two-weeks' journey, and at sarah's insistence a sweater, raincoat, rubbers, and three changes of shirts and underwear. he felt as adventurous as daniel boone. sarah waved until he was out of sight down the road, and returned to the kitchen biting her lip to keep back the tears. while stud, racing along at twenty miles an hour through the dewy august morning, felt as fit as a fiddle and as cocky as a bantam rooster. he noticed the fine new circular barn ed underwood was building upon the very site where two previous circular barns had been struck by lightning and burned to the ground. just flying up in the face of providence to build another of those queer-shaped cow sheds on the same spot. he craned his neck to look over the high board fence at the foote place where all the machinery stood rusting in the front yard. he could see that cyrus babcock's bull wouldn't furnish much competition for his napoleon at the county fair that year. cy took too much stock in this scientific stuff his son was learning at the university of wisconsin. science was all right in its place but-- "you gotta have a feel for raising cattle same as for playing the fiddle," stud told the passing scenery. he was genuinely glad to see that the widow morrison had a fine stand of tobacco and that one arm bert howe had the best corn in miles. it was pretty tough about bert and his tubercular girl. the creek at busseyville, meandering through its wide valley, looked so inviting that stud drove his car in among the willows, kicked through a meadow of deep grass and dusty milkweed bloom on which the big, brown butterflies were gathered, and came at last to the deep hole at the bend where he had often gone swimming as a boy. there was not a farm woman in sight, so stud stripped, took a running dive, and sported in the cool, clear water. how fine it felt! he blew and bubbled, tried to swim to the bottom of the twelve foot hole and pick up pebbles, opened his eyes under the water and grabbed for the silver minnows with his big hands. out again with the wind and sun upon his body! into his clothes and back to the car where he sampled a pair of chicken sandwiches and drank noisily from the artesian well beside the road. another ten miles of hard driving over wagon roads which followed the ridge to the west of the lake, then into fort atkinson and on up the rock river valley. on either side spread the fertile black acres which had brought thousands of eager immigrants from across the sea. the sons and grandsons of the pioneers were thrashing grain and sweating in the fields. stud marveled when he thought how rapidly he was traversing these miles which would have taken days by ox-cart. not a blowout, as yet, and not a broken spring. no trouble with the magneto, carburettor, or the engine. until he was twenty miles from home stud would not let himself think what it was which had brought him on this wild goose chase. it sobered him when he remembered. from the moment on that june night when sarah had asked if early ann might be his daughter the simple mind of stud brailsford had been troubled and perplexed. he wanted to ask the girl outright what she knew about her mother but was embarrassed before her. he tried to recall each of the girls with whom he had had secret pleasure before he married sarah. suddenly it dawned upon him that early ann sherman was undoubtedly the daughter of tess bedermier,--tess, the girl with whom he had once gone swimming naked in lake koshkonong in the days when to even speak of a girl's legs was to risk an eternity in hell. it was a sunday evening at that. he was supposed to be driving her to the evening services at the methodist episcopal church in brailsford junction. tess, the lovely and lost, the foolhardy and independent, the talk of the ladies' aid and the scandal of the countryside. she had been doc crandall's stylish hired girl during the last two years of the veterinarian's life. of an age with temperance and sarah, tess had been the most run-after girl in town during the years of and ' . stud had not told sarah of his discovery, nor why, when looking into early ann's face, he was suddenly shocked (seeing the living, breathing image of tess). but could she be his daughter? maybe she was older than she would admit. if she were twenty-one, for instance.... he tried to analyze what it was that disturbed him and decided that if a man sees his daughter growing up from babyhood, perhaps helps to tend her, plays with her, teaches her to ride horseback and to swim; if he watches her sprouting up to young womanhood, sees her put up her hair and wear her first long skirts, then he can think of her as his daughter and not be troubled with her pretty ways and her fresh young body. but if it should happen that a father did not see his daughter even once in her life before she became a young woman, then he might be disturbed by her prettiness, seeing in her, her mother of years gone by. it was not like stud to be worrying about anything except possibly the crops and the stock. he took the world as he found it and found it good. he lived moment by moment and day by day and rested on sunday. but here was a new and troubling element in his life; a worry, and a dumb, sweet misery which he carried about with him, so that sometimes gus would have to ask him twice if he had ordered more bran, or if he intended to send for that new belt for the gas engine in the milk house, before stud was aware gus was speaking. he thought of it as he went down into the woods with shep to bring home the cows, and he thought of it while he was topping the tobacco, breaking off the budding white flowers to keep the plants from spindling up and going to seed. he carried his troubles with him into the barns and the haymow, to the table and to bed. was it likely that she was eighteen and not his daughter? or was she, perhaps, twenty-one, and the child he had got on tess bedermier that moonlight night they had bathed in the lake and afterwards gone back among the willows? he did not know where tess had gone that autumn. she had quarreled with him and moved away from brailsford junction. he wondered if she had ever married, and if she were living now. he thought he would never be satisfied until he found her and asked about early ann. but to find her would be a job of clever sleuthing for which stud felt too big and clumsy. he called on his friend timothy halleck in whom he placed utmost faith. halleck went to madison to look for a marriage certificate. he came back puzzled and no wiser. he wrote to the only bedermier he knew, a second cousin of tess's living in chicago, but found that this distant relative had not heard of tess in more than twenty years. then he went to old mrs. crandall who seemed inclined to confide a secret, but changed her mind and shut her mouth like a clam. at last, having had a real inspiration, he visited mrs. marsden, early ann's erstwhile landlady, and asked about the girl's mail. "don't you dare insinuate i look in other people's envelopes," squeaked mrs. marsden. "but i did notice the three letters she got were postmarked from horicon, wisconsin." this was the only clew which halleck could offer his friend, but it was sufficient. as stud followed the rock river toward its source he watched the stream grow smaller and smaller. he passed through jefferson and watertown, neat towns in the midst of prosperous country. on every side were the white-washed milk houses and bright red barns of thrifty german farmers. the corn rustled, windmills whirred, and bob-o-links scattered their liquid notes. he passed busy creameries, a brewery, and a cross-road store, and still his chariot wheeled on. but as he climbed a hill giving a view of the rich valley and miles of winding river, a tire expired with a long, soft sigh; and it was an hour later after a mortal struggle with tire irons, pump, jack, and obstinate valve-stems, that he was on his way again. soon after the engine coughed and died. he was out of gas. courteous drivers of that all but forgotten era when a ford was a fraternal emblem more binding than a masonic button drew up with boiling radiators and shrieking brakes to shout, "need a lift, friend?" it was one of these cheerful fellow motorists who drove him three miles and back for a gallon of gasoline. he stopped over night at a farm where the big german farmer and his apple-dumpling wife would have been ashamed to even think of charging for their hospitality. he was impressed by the clean barns and white-washed trees, and spent several hours with the genial farmer examining his holsteins. the next day he drove on to horicon. he came at last to the desolate marshes which seem to stretch interminably across the wide valley of the upper reaches of the rock,--endless channels and pools, acres of billowing swamp grass, millions of yellow pond lilies, red-wing blackbirds chattering in hordes upon the swaying cat-tails. asking for sherman, for bedermier, and for sherman again and hearing this and that disturbing bit of their history until at last he knew the whole sordid tale, he made his way along one of the most desolate roads he had ever traversed. huts among the gravel hills bordering the marsh were over-run with chickens, pigs, and dirty children. pot-bellied women came to the door to see him pass. he lost his way during the afternoon and had to retrace his path over ruts and ditches which threatened at every moment to break a spring. toward sunset he arrived at the deserted sherman place and drove in through the stumps of a once generous orchard where wheel-less wagons, overturned plows, and rusty cultivators vied with sagging fences to make the spot as uninviting as can be imagined. there was scarcely an unbroken window left in the ramshackle farmhouse; the windmill was down. plantain and burrs had crept into the barnyard, and the fields were giving way on every hand to brambles, sumac and willows. so this was where tess bedermier had come, pregnant with his child, to live with the only man who would take her in, to bury that first child in an unmarked grave, and to bear bung sherman three children out of wedlock, of whom early ann alone had survived. here was the desolate farm on which early ann--no child of stud's--had grown and blossomed, and it was here that bung sherman had died in a drunken brawl with a duck hunter. after bung's death tess had gone off with a man who stopped at the farm for a drink of water, a man whose name was unknown to the neighbors and whose only distinguishing characteristic was that he carried in the crook of his arm a large black cat. two weeks later early ann had gone to join them. as stud watched the sun setting over the vast marshes he thought he felt a cold wind blow across the barn lot, and the hair stood up on the nape of his neck. the killdeers called that a storm was at hand. clouds rolled up from the horizon and distant thunder rattled like wheels on a far bridge. then, suddenly, the sky was black and over-cast. the lightning flashed close at hand,--jagged blue, reflected on the dark pools and the channels. the trees bowed low, the dust whirled, and rain came down over countless miles of marsh land. chapter vii when stud returned from horicon there was little time to think of tess, early ann, sarah, or any other woman for the farm was up to its ears in preparation for the rock county fair. three magnificent stud animals were to be entered: napoleon, the bull; teddy roosevelt, the stallion; and ulysses s. grant, the boar. napoleon, the dark and silky black jersey bull, whose pedigree covered several pages and included such ancestors as imperial delight, sired by royal edward out of queen of the channel islands, looked every bit an aristocrat. national and international prize-winning blood ran in his veins. mothers and grandmothers with amazing udders were listed on his family tree, and two or three of his bovine ancestors had sailed from the isle of jersey on a cattle boat named the _mayflower_. with massive head and fiery eyes, he seemed to challenge the whole world to battle. in reality he was as gentle as a lamb and loved to be scratched behind the ears with a corn cob. as for teddy roosevelt, the percheron stallion, with arching neck and melodramatic proportions, undoubtedly the blood of medieval chargers ran in his veins. sired by the pride of normandy, and himself the sire of scores of the finest percherons in southern wisconsin, he walked as though a golden armored youth were on his back and plumes behind his ears. finally there was ulysses s. grant, the mettlesome and vicious poland china boar, who was growing more temperamental daily about his highly commercial amours. stud often threatened to turn this valuable piece of breeding machinery into second rate ham and bacon, for as sure as some admiring farmer came ten miles with a seductive and highly amenable sow, ulysses would sulk in his private bath of mud, capricious as a roman emperor. there was no accounting for his taste which was usually plebeian. but to the judges at the county fair, ulysses was annually the sweetest thing on cloven hooves. manicured and groomed as he always was, his pink snout pointed at a most entrancing angle, his tightly curled tail and glowing bristles the picture of health and good breeding, this porcine apollo usually won in a walk. "all personality and no character," was the way stud fondly put it. although a cholera epidemic was rampant that summer, and gus with pardonable pessimism predicted that ulysses would contract the disease from sheer pig-headedness, no such thing occurred. he did acquire a singular case of temperament, however. like the other animals which were to be entered ulysses was brushed, beautified and pampered for days preceding the fair, and in former years he had seemed to enjoy not only the extra corn but the effortless scratching. this year, however, he squealed with rage whenever stud entered the pen, gleamed wickedly at his trainers out of small, blood-shot eyes, and more than once tried to annihilate his owner. the boar's private quarters were closed off from the main pig pen by a stout, narrow gate through which one entered at his own risk. one day when stud brought sarah down to observe how beautifully the boar was pointing up, he started into the inner pen and was charged by the infuriated animal. brailsford took one step backward, tripped over a trough, and falling struck his head on a stone. the next moment the boar was upon him. sarah seized a five-pronged manure fork which was leaning against the fence and drove it with all her strength into the shoulder of the boar, turning him at the crucial moment. stud leapt to his feet, one arm bleeding, and despite sarah's cry of warning plunged barehanded into the fight. he kicked the great ringed nose again and again with his heavy boot, grabbed a large hind leg for a brief but titanic struggle to drag the beast back into his pen, at last drove him through the gate with a piece of two-by-four. gus and early ann came running. sarah managed to use the pitch fork effectively from the top of the fence. but stud motioned them all away. this was now his fight and he wanted to handle it alone. to their cries that he come away stud turned a deaf ear. years of pent up fury went into the struggle. the boar was blind with rage yet respectful of the giant with his heavy stick. the man was filled with righteous anger against this stubborn beast and ready for a showdown. they fought and maneuvered, charged and leapt aside, the man shouting incoherently, the big animal squealing and tearing up the earth. "i'll fix the bastard," stud cried. his shirt was ripped. his muscles knotted and gleaming. again and again the boar charged and went crashing into the fence as stud scrambled to safety. and time after time stud brought the two-by-four crashing down between the maddened animal's eyes. at last they were both too tired to fight. the boar lay squealing and panting in impotent rage across the pen, while stud, proud that he could walk from the arena, smiled as he climbed the fence. "well, there's one blue ribbon gone to holy blazes," said gus. "but by golly it was worth it." the fight with the boar had two immediate consequences: sarah suffered a nervous collapse, and ulysses s. grant, although carefully tended, proved conclusively that he would not be prize-winning material for the fall of . it was the veterinarian who was called first and later the family doctor. "now don't you worry about me," sarah said. "i'm all right. you just take care of ulysses and go on getting ready for the fair. i don't need to go this year." "why, i couldn't go without you, mother," stud said, "and ... and without ulysses." old doc carlyle, the vet who had tended ulysses ever since he was a small, squealing red suckling, shook his head sadly. he had a genuine fondness for the vicious old boar and had always claimed that he would make blue ribbon material. "you hadn't ought to beat no dumb animal like you beat ulysses," he told stud. "it ain't christian." the less efficient and far more callous general practitioner, doctor whitehead, who came to see sarah, took her pulse with his inch-thick stem-winder and as usual lost count at eleven. he took her temperature with a thermometer which had not been properly sterilized in three years, and looked down her throat with a spoon. he pooh-poohed her fear that she had been internally injured during the fight with the boar. "probably some female ailment," he insisted, shaking several harmless pink powders onto papers which he folded deftly and left upon the dresser. "you ain't bad off. you'll be up and around in no time." sarah watched a spider making his web in the corner of the ceiling. she continued to watch him long after the doctor's ford could no longer be heard down the road. "spin your pretty web," she told him. "i won't brush it down. i'm just going to let myself be sick. i reckon i got a right to lie back and be sick one time in my life." stud tried to straighten his back at the end of the row. the sweat poured from his temples and the grizzled creases of his stubbled cheeks. the pain went in wide, flat bands down the heavy muscles on either side of his spine. it was weakness to show this pain. one must laugh, throw down the shining tobacco hatchet beside the shagbark hickory, snatch up the heavy, brown-earthenware jug, tip it deftly over the shoulder and slosh long, cool swigs of cider down one's parched and dusty throat. "uuufff, uuuggg," said the big tobacco harvester, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve and spitting into the dust. "sure tastes good, don't it?" "fair to middling," said gus. "it's darn good cider," said ansel ottermann, "even iffen it is full of rotten apples and worms and such." "don't need to drink no more than you like," said stud, holding the jug just out of ansel's reach. "is it good cider or ain't it?" "it's good cider," ansel said. the almanac had predicted early frost that year, and although the entire family scoffed at almanac predictions stud had cleaned and sharpened his tobacco axes, suckered his tobacco plants, cleaned out the sheds and gathered together a crew. on the stroke of six one hazy blue indian summer morning the noisy crowd of farmers and men from brailsford junction began the backbreaking labor. up one row and down the next went the sweating workers. the left hand grasped the stalk, the right sent the tobacco hatchet cleanly through the heavy-fibered stem. flash, flash went the bright steel in the sunlight. "great crop this year," said vern barton. "just heft them stalks." "too darned good a crop," growled gus. "i got a crick in my back like a he-dog in april." "that's what you get gallivantin' around nights," said stud. the men laughed. "how you do talk," said gus. "you know i ain't took a girl into a haymow for twenty years." "how about a cornfield?" stud asked. laths tipped with steel were spudded through the butt ends of the stalks--five or six plants to each lath. the tobacco was then loaded upon wagons and hauled to the sheds. men climbed nimbly among the poles hanging the heavily laden laths, tier upon tier. the hot, suffocating air was pungent with the smell of green tobacco. the thick, moss-green leaves were soft and heavy as velvet to the touch. later they would be brown and brittle. still later, when to the vast excitement of the countryside "case" weather began, they would be fine and pliable as thin brown leather. the swallows had gathered long weeks before, and, as though at some invisible signal sent along the thousands of miles of wire on which they were mobilized, had left over night for the south. the fields were strewn with yellowing pumpkins and swelling hubbard squashes, knobbed, burly, and deep green. the first ducks were dropping in from the north. soon it would be time for the rock county fair. as fair week approached, however, stud announced his decision to remain at home. he declared that since ulysses and sarah were both laid up, peter still thrashing, and early ann of necessity tied to the housework, he too would pass up the event of the year. he looked over the fence into the pen of ulysses s. grant and shook his head sadly. "we're just a couple of darned old fools!" "oink," said the boar. "first fair you and me have missed in five years." the boar sighed gustily and lay down in his consoling bath of mud. stud helped gus give the bull and stallion their final beauty treatments, loaded the big bull into the wagon, and hitched the percheron on behind. early ann gave the bow of blue ribbon on the stallion's tail a final twist and pat. stud slipped gus a twenty dollar bill. and off went the shining green wagon, its bright yellow wheels looking like huge sunflowers as they flashed in the sunlight. the tug links played a merry tune, the stallion whinnied gently, while stud and early ann cheered the debonair farm hand on his way. "you better bring home some cups and ribbons," early ann called after the retreating cavalcade. "trust me," shouted gus, waving his derby. the girl and man stood as if entranced until they could no longer hear the rattle of the wagon, and until the dust had settled on the roadway. sarah continued to feel ailing despite pink powders, herb tea, and a highly advertised variety of vegetable compound. the work was thrown completely upon the shoulders of early ann. stud would have been blind not to have noticed how well she bore up under this burden and how gladly she cared for sarah. the girl could cook as fine a meal as he had ever tasted, and be as gay and fresh after hours over the cook stove as when she came clicking down the stairs with the chamber pots at four in the morning. she never asked stud to kill chickens for her. she went to the chicken house herself, chased down a pair of plump friers, and chopped off their heads without more ado. these she scalded, plucked, singed, drew, washed in cold well water, rolled in egg and flour, and fried to a crisp golden brown. it made stud's mouth fairly water to think of those chicken dinners: hot biscuits, mashed potatoes, lots of chicken gravy, coffee with jersey cream, and hot mince pie for dessert. such roasts, fries and stews! such homemade bread, dumplings, pies and cakes! her cooking was better than hotel dinners, stud averred. there was a tang to everything she cooked and everything she did. stud had never before been completely aware of the work a woman must do around a farm. he had rather thought that sarah was having the best of the bargain all these years. now, perversely, he was conscious of every task a farm-wife must perform. he noticed how from monday morning when she started pumping cistern water for the week's washing, until saturday night when she put over water for baths early ann never sat down to rest. he noticed particularly how clean she kept the house and milk house; how shining and sweet-smelling were the milk pails and separator; how the meals were always on the dot and the dishes cleared away promptly after the meal. she canned, churned, carried in cords of wood. stud found himself wondering if there were not some way to heat flatirons save over a roaring cook stove. somehow the mountains of dishes seemed unnecessary. but early ann did not complain. she sang as she worked. watching her now, as with hair and dress blowing she fed five hundred snowy chickens, stud told himself she was a "darned good hired girl and would make some lucky fellow a good wife." the phone rang two longs and three shorts the following saturday. it was gus calling jubilantly from janesville. he had squandered a quarter to inform the family that napoleon was not only the greatest _jersey_ bull in the county, but, according to the judges who awarded him a silver loving cup, the greatest bull of _any_ variety. teddy, the stallion, had won a blue ribbon, while sarah's raspberry preserves had been judged the best in their class. peter's pumpkin was three pounds and four ounces heavier than its nearest rival, and gus had won a kewpie doll for early ann by hitting a nigger baby with a baseball. stud could hear the subdued exclamations from every kitchen on the party line. "but i didn't get nothing in the wood-chopping contest," gus complained. "i got licked seven-ways-for-sunday by a lady from east fulton." the family celebrated with homemade ice cream eaten in sarah's bedroom. that evening at dusk a storm arose. lightning quivered along the horizon, and a wind sprang up. early ann, throwing her apron over her head to protect it from the spattering drops, hurried down to the old mill to get in a late brood of chicks raised by the fierce old one-legged hen who every summer stole her nest. as she reached the doorway of the mill joe valentine grabbed her around the waist and put a large, hairy hand over her mouth. he pulled her into the dark building and began talking to her in a hoarse whisper. "you're my step daughter," he said. "you're coming with me." she bit his fingers in fury and cried out for help, but the moaning of the wind and the rush of the rain muffled her words. she forgot all the nice ways and pretty talk she had learned from sarah brailsford and kicked and fought and swore. "i'll scratch your eyes out, joe!" "you're my girl. you ran away from me." he nursed his bitten hand. "i'll tell everybody how you treated maw." "come along now." he tried to pull her toward the door, then stopped. "i was good to your maw," he said. "you killed her," the girl cried. "you made her take in washings, and ... and worse." "you can't teach an old cat new tricks." "you killed her," early ann shouted. "shut your mouth, you little bastard," joe said. he tried to kiss her and she began to fight again. he slapped her face methodically a dozen times. "you're my girl," joe said. "you're my step daughter, and you ain't eighteen yet." "i am eighteen," she panted. "let me go, joe." she sunk her teeth into his arm while he screamed. "now you're going to get it," he said. he ripped her dress and bent her backward until she thought he would break her back. then she went limp and did not fight any more, but nothing happened. a moment later he flung her away. "you ain't any good to me, either," he said with a great, wistful sigh. she saw his face in a flash of lightning. there was no lust there nor anger. a cat rubbed against her leg purring loudly. she went out past the man who did not try to stop her. she hurried through the rain toward the hollow of lantern light which was approaching. "are you all right, early ann?" stud cried. he came running and held up the lantern to look at her. he saw the torn dress and disheveled hair. "who was it?" he cried. "where is he?" she shook her head. "you know, but you won't tell." "yes." he pushed past her angrily and went into the mill holding the lantern high. he snatched up a piece of iron pipe and plunged through the dark rooms shouting. a cat rubbed against him, a big black fellow. stud heard laughter out in the storm, hurried out into the rain, but could find no one. in the kitchen once more he threw off his wet jacket, hung up the lantern, took early ann by the shoulders and tried to make her meet his eyes. "you're not my daughter," he said. "i ... i could...." "no, mr. brailsford, please!" she was crying quietly. he let his hands drop from her shoulders, turned and looked out through the black, dripping window toward the lake. he could hear the waves rushing up on the shore and breaking, the wind soughing through the elms and maples. he thought of sarah lying pale and weak on her bed, and he thought of the robust girl standing in the lamp light behind him. very deliberately he left the kitchen and climbed the narrow, dark stairs to his bed. book three chapter viii _in the early autumn of a french flyer looped the loop to the amazement of an incredulous world. more troops were ordered to the mexican border. in chicago the bon ton girls were the last word in burlesque. smart horses wore bobbed tails and well-cropped manes. forty-four thousand eight hundred tons of dynamite tore away the barrier at the pacific end of the panama canal while shriners cheered. prime favorites on the piano rolls were "good-bye boys," "the trail of the lonesome pine" and "you're a great big blue-eyed baby." wheat sold at around ninety cents in chicago with hogs close to nine dollars. aunt martha of the needle notes column found that one could cut whalebone to any desired length by warming it first before the fire. german and american yachts raced off marblehead, and lieutenant governor thomas morris of wisconsin told an attentive audience that never again would his fair state become a coaling station for wall street, nor a water tank for the rockefeller and morgan interests._ but to peter brailsford, impatient with his youth; torn with fear of god, of hell, and of sex; romantic, inexperienced, wistful; anxious to get ahead in the world, yet essentially unworldly; intolerant, rebellious, headstrong; filled with hatreds, jealousies, and a morbid interest in death; saddled with concepts of duty, patriotism, and courage which were fatal to millions of his generation; big, clumsy, lovable; obsessed with the idea that he was only a country boy; almost as supersensitive as sarah and nearly as lusty as stud; fine, intelligent, mechanically minded, and above all a considerate and good hearted young fellow.... to this healthy but unhappy product of english ancestry, methodist theology, and the american public school system the tumult of the outer world meant little compared to the tumult within his brain. now, striding along main street in greasy coveralls, glowering at the saturday afternoon sun through eyes dark with anger, kicking defiantly through drifts of yellow elm leaves, flaunting rebellion and stubborn pride at every step, he was just a kid coming home from work at the "trailer" to those he met; but to himself, peter was quite naturally the center of the universe. he would show the world and particularly mike o'casey and the front office gang what sort of a boy they had greasing their trailers. he would invent some new and world-revolutionizing trailer which would make them pop-eyed with amazement. and when he had been made vice-president of the company he would call bud spillman into his office and dismiss him with great dignity. peter told himself that he was talking nonsense and acting like an unbroken yearling. he knew that he should be the happiest boy in the world and should thank god for his good fortune. nevertheless as he elbowed his way through clots of gossiping farmers whose rigs and fords lined main street he knew that he was far from being happy. maybe life in town wasn't so perfect after all. perhaps after he had taken a crack at this trailer job.... but no. he would never go back to the farm. not even if he could be thrashing boss every year with twenty men under him. he would stick it out greasing trailers until the day he died. bud spillman or anyone else couldn't whip peter brailsford. he stopped before the bentley brothers' hardware store, irrepressibly drawn by the beautiful stag and pearl-handled jack-knives in the window, and remembered the jack-knife he had stolen from a boy at country school and how he had known that god had seen him steal the knife, and how for days he went in constant dread that god would strike him dead for his sin. he still had an overwhelming desire for pearl-handled jack-knives. he remembered how he had thought that eternal damnation was not too great a price to pay for that shining knife, which was as cool and smooth as slippery elm between his fingers. looking in at the hardware store window cluttered with milk pails, muskrat traps, fish poles, pitchforks and spades he suddenly caught sight of his own offensive image in the glass: ears that stuck out on either side of his head like sails, a thatch of dark, unruly curls which would never stay combed, big brown calf's eyes which might have graced a jersey heifer, and pouting lips. he wondered how anyone could look so ugly. "what you need," he said irrelevantly, "is a good swift kick in the pants." undoubtedly, with a face like that, he was getting more than he deserved from a most generous world. he began to count his blessings, unconvinced but hopeful. he was away from the farm at last, had freedom, a job, and a room in town. his third weekly paycheck of twenty-two dollars and fifty cents was in his pocket. he had a girl who some day might give him a kiss, and a dapper little employer, mike o'casey, whom he admired beyond all power of expression. still he was miserable. the very eminence of o'casey was deflating to peter. how could a country lout with big feet and clumsy red hands ever hope to reach such pinnacles of success? the president of o'casey trailers was not only a man of the world, a fine mechanic, an inventor of proven genius, a baritone soloist, and a buck and wing dancer. he was also the most popular and best dressed man in town. peter bet that nobody in new york's four hundred was better looking or a classier dresser. the boy leaned against the hitching rail and sighed as his hero went roaring past in his big red car with cutout open. peter wished that mr. o'casey would turn and nod, but no such miracle occurred. peter asked himself what he was mooning about. but he knew all too well. bud spillman, out of all the hundreds of thousands of possible men, had been made his straw-boss at the "trailer." peter remembered once when he was going to kill bud spillman. he had waited for hours behind the methodist church with a piece of pipe. he had stood all that he could possibly stand from the bully, had been kicked in the stomach when he was down, had been insulted in the showers before all the other boys, had had his clothes tied in knots in the locker room, and his tennis shoes filled with tacks. he had stood in the cold behind the methodist church waiting for spillman who usually took that short cut home. he had envisioned just how the bully would look when he lay there pale and dead, and he had planned all his own actions: what he would do if he were chased, and where he would jump the freight which was to take him from brailsford junction forever. a wishful little song from childhood echoed and re-echoed in his brain: "_moonlight, starlight, i guess the bears ain't out tonight._" but bud had gone home another way. and now, out of all the possible fellows in brailsford junction, bud spillman had been made his straw-boss. bud, his rival for maxine, and his instinctive enemy since childhood. ruthaford s. spillman, bud's father, and owner of the biggest livery stable in brailsford junction had been one of the twenty backers who had put up money with which o'casey had built his factory. it had been a snap for bud to get the job. peter's adventure had started so auspiciously that he could scarcely believe this new turn of events. he had come steaming into town sixty miles an hour on his motorcycle, dressed in his best serge suit and wearing his brightest tie. after an hour of agony and anticipation he had been ushered into the awe-inspiring offices of president mike o'casey. "know anything about trailers?" asked o'casey. "no, but i could learn." "is that your motorcycle out in front?" "yes sir." "can you take'er apart and put'er together?" "you're darned right i can ... i mean, yes sir. and i know all about fords and thrashing machines." mr. o'casey smiled at the serious, eager young man before him. "i'm seventeen going on eighteen," peter said. "i guess you'll do, kid." peter walked out, floating on air. he started work the next morning and was temporarily assigned to the paint shop where a shipment of the crude semi-trailers of that day, based on the early martin patents, were being painted a snowy white for a chicago milk company. he was clever with a brush and soon acquired the knack of enameling and varnishing without leaving a sag or a brush mark. all went well until the second week when bud spillman came to work at the "trailer." from that moment on peter was miserable. "so you wanted a job as a mechanic?" asked bud. "i'll see what i can do." several days later peter was transferred to the assembly plant where from morning until night he greased trailers and plant machinery. bud promised to have him cleaning out toilets and spittoons by the end of the month. to hell with all of them! some day brailsford junction would wake up to the fact that peter was a genius. they would go around telling anecdotes of his youth, and laugh about the time he quit school, told "indian face" bolton where he could go, and tossed his school books into the creek. he would invent an "equalizer" to take the "whip" out of the action between car and trailer. he would make a half a million dollars and would live in a large house on shannon's hill with maxine larabee and their many children. the day began to brighten all about him as he dreamed. the farmers and their wives looked more kindly, the girls more handsome and the men more noble. by the time peter had reached the brailsford junction national bank he was noticing how blue the sky seemed overhead, how bright the leaves, how keen the wood-smoke in the air. not even the appearance of the prissy mr. clarence bolton, principal of the brailsford junction high school of recent and unpleasant memory could take the sunshine out of this newly discovered saturday afternoon. peter stopped to admire a brace of mallards which hank vetter the butcher was just taking from his ford roadster. hank said that in his opinion mike o'casey was a card and highly worthy of the admiration of every young man in town. in front of the pool hall, men sat on the hitching rail watching the farm girls go by. cats dreamed happily on piles of fresh vegetables in the grocery store windows. the loafers sitting on the steps of the cigar store spat idly at the wooden indian. in peter's new frame of mind even old man mulroy who was teaching his bow-legged grandson to say "god damn" before a highly appreciative male audience in front of the livery stable, was mildly amusing on this day. "dod damn," said the toddler. the men slapped their thighs and guffawed. old man mulroy, drooling tobacco juice at the corners of his toothless mouth, grinned slyly. a job in town. a paycheck in his pocket. the boy whistled gayly as he marched along. he looked in over the swinging half-doors of the red moon bar and felt that the time would never come when he would be twenty-one and could stand with one foot on the brass rail and drink with the rest of the men. a new and brilliant bock-beer billy goat was charging out of a sign on the back wall. a large red bull, and a superior cowboy rolling a cigarette with one hand advertised a well-known brand of cigarette tobacco. peter wished that he dared to smoke on the street. he wished quite violently that he could roll a cigarette with one hand like the superior cowboy in the picture. he paused before the palace theater where he examined the bright billboards displaying a serial queen poised in midair between precipice and precipice, another view of the same harassed young woman to whom the villain was touching a torch, while the hero of the affair looked on calmly from his rearing mount. life was very full and romantic, thought peter brailsford. he realized that he could see every movie that came to brailsford junction without making the least impression upon his nearly inexhaustible weekly stipend. he could even buy himself a new suit and some dazzling new ties. a room of his own, no school work. he could skip church and sunday school if he wished. but no, he could not. a momentary cloud passed over his sunny landscape as peter came abreast of the dingle brothers' general store into which temperance crandall was just disappearing. he really liked the fussy creature even if she did make him go to church, knit him wristlets which he dared not wear and equally dared not refuse, brought him soapstones on chilly autumn nights, and saw that his flannel nightgown was warmed before the base burner before he went to bed. but he did wish that she would be a little less curious as to where he went evenings and what time he got in. rooms were scarce in brailsford junction with the "trailer" booming. peter had taken what he could get. he could abide the games of authors and flinch played with temperance and her mother in the latter's upstairs bedroom, with the oil heater making weird patterns of light and shadow on the ceiling, and the kerosene lamp spluttering. but he did not like to be crossquestioned about maxine larabee. "maxine larabee!" he rolled the syllables over his tongue and felt the excitement that even her name produced. how delicate and fine and unattainable she was. he felt like a great clumsy oaf beside her. he felt as awkward and shy as the boys in the milling stag corner at the firemen's ball. he only asked to be allowed to watch her from a distance, to wait outside the library hoping that she would speak to him, or to wander disconsolately back and forth before her house, wondering which room was hers, wishing that some marauder might attempt to break in so that he could prove his love by cracking the fellow over the head. love-sick and divinely miserable he walked the streets at night listening to the wind in the trees, holding imaginary conversations with his beloved, devising tests and trials for his devotion. sometimes the sweet pain of his affliction seemed more than he could bear. but when he had a chance to speak to her there was nothing of this he could express. he was apt to be rough and boisterous, or merely shy and dumb. his emotions could scarcely have been phrased by shakespeare nor captured in music by beethoven, yet the most that found utterance was: "gee, you look swell tonight." coming upon her as he rounded the corner at main street and albion he managed a loud and joyous greeting. but maxine had no answering shout. she took one look at his greasy coveralls, his blackened hands and face, then turned away. she did not speak as she passed. at the iron sink in the crandall kitchen peter brailsford labored to remove the dirt and grease so offensive to the eyes of maxine larabee. he scoured with violence, grimly pleased by the stinging of his outraged skin and the smart of the soap in his eyes. he scowled at himself in the broken mirror, scrubbed his ears until they burned, wiped the last trace of his recent shame on temperance crandall's roller towel and was running a comb through his wet curls when early ann burst radiantly through the kitchen door followed by the less impulsive gus. "early ann! gus!" cried the young fellow. "peter! peter!" cried the girl. "i've inherited a farm. we'll all go to the movies." "not really?" said the astonished peter as early ann danced him in mad circles about the kitchen. "really," said early ann. "and it's been sold, and i've got the three hundred dollars above the mortgage." "look out," cried the hired man. but his warning came too late. they had jarred the lamp from its shelf, and it fell with a crash scattering glass all over the kitchen floor. at this inopportune moment temperance crandall returned from shopping. she had been cheated two cents on eggs, sniggered at by the pool hall gang, and despite two trips the length of main street had not caught so much as a glimpse of timothy halleck. now she discovered her kitchen strewn with glass. early ann had her hat over one eye, peter's shirt tail was out, and gus was studying the floor. "i didn't mean to," said gus. "i was just hunting for some matches for my pipe." "didn't mean to," mimicked temperance. "didn't mean to. well you'd just better get busy and clean up that mess." "yes, mam," said gus, looking around for broom and dustpan. early ann giggled. peter tucked in his shirt tail. temperance crandall whisked off shawl and bonnet, donned an apron, clattered the griddles and stoked the fire preparatory to getting supper. "you're sarah's hired girl, ain't you?" she asked over her shoulder. "i'm early ann sherman." "when your maw used to work for us...." temperance began. then catching a murderous look in the kitchen mirror she changed her tune. "well now, you and gus had better stay for supper," she said. "there's plenty for all." "no," said early ann. "we're eating at the ritz royal this evening. i've inherited a farm." she pulled her coat about her in an anna held gesture, adjusted her hat, tilted her lovely chin and started for the door. "come along, gus." "oh, stay," said peter. "a farm!" said temperance. "yes, a farm," said gus, bent double with the dustpan and feeling surly. "nevertheless," said temperance, "you'd just better stay for supper. what would sarah ever think if i didn't feed you? take off your coat, miss sherman. and gus, you can dump that busted glass out on the ash pile." smiling again, early ann tossed her hat and coat over a chair, tied an apron about her waist, and with the uncanny instinct of one woman in another woman's kitchen began to set the table and to help get supper. watching the girl, temperance sighed. she felt old and tired today. she had never inherited a farm, and never in her life had she had such a peaches-and-cream complexion as early ann's. she wished she might have a girl like this one to help her about the house. she supposed that miss sherman wouldn't be working any more now that she had come into property, and she put the question to the newly made heiress. "you bet i'll go on working," said early ann. "i'm going to save my money. except enough for some dresses and maybe a two-week trip to chicago." "are you going to chicago all by yourself?" asked the horrified temperance. but early ann had made up her mind that she had told the town gossip more than enough. gus returned from the ash pile and settled himself in the kitchen rocker with a copy of the "modern priscilla" replete with corset advertisements, while peter loudly announced that if he were taking early ann to the movies he would have to shave. "shave," scoffed early ann. "let's see...." she ran her fingers over the soft down which covered his cheeks. "pin feathers," she said. peter ignored her. he dipped hot water from the reservoir at the end of the stove, examined his beard critically in the mirror, and began to lather in a business-like manner. he wished that maxine might see him now. * * * * * upstairs, old mrs. crandall lay in her bed wondering what it was that had shaken the house a few minutes before. after a time she smelled coffee and knew that there must be company. temperance and peter always drank tea for supper. deaf and bed-ridden, the old woman still kept in touch with the world with her other senses. through a rift in the trees she could see the front of the methodist episcopal church and in through one of the basement windows. she knew what went on in the elderberry bushes to the south of the church, and she had seen a flash of kate barton's red dress through the blinds of the belfry last thursday and had seen the pigeons and sparrows come out in dreadful fright. you couldn't tell mrs. crandall that kate was practicing and joe whalen pumping the organ that afternoon. mrs. pat o'toole looked to be about five months along with her ninth. peter brailsford, from the way he was mooning around, was certainly in love, probably with maxine larabee. unlike temperance, old mrs. crandall had no desire to reform mankind. she liked to hum popular music and feel the vibration. she enjoyed love-making, fights, and all the other delightful and rowdy actions of mortals. she lay in a world of almost complete silence, looking out wistfully at the young people going by, and the blowing autumn leaves; feeling the wind pushing against the house. she did not want to die. she wanted passionately to be alive next spring when the lilacs bloomed in her front yard. the odor of frying meat came up to her from the kitchen, and finally the vibration of her daughter's feet on the stairs. she hastily brushed aside two big tears. "temperance," she scolded, "you're late with my victuals." * * * * * supper that evening was of sufficient social importance so that temperance covered the kitchen oil cloth with her red and white gingham table cloth, but not of a caliber which demanded the use of the gloomy dining room adorned with chromos of dead ducks, fruit, and fish; it was a function worthy of the crandall cut-glass teaspoon tumbler, but scarcely a feast which necessitated the crocheted and paraffined napkin rings. temperance brought out her tureen which she herself had painted with blue birds and daisies, but she used the bone-handled knives and forks rather than the silver plate. "i hear there's been a man snooping around out your way," temperance began after a hasty blessing, followed by a pan to plate service of fried potatoes, liver and bacon. "no one you'd be interested in," said early ann, as saucily as she dared. "don't try to be funny," said temperance. temperance had little luck in eliciting any information about the prowler or about early ann's farm. the conversation turned to the latest antics of ulysses, and of his son ulysses jr., who was proving to be a chip off the old block, to sarah's convalescence, the fall plowing, the hickory nut crop and the plans for a new silo. not until the dishes had been cleared away and gus had gone his chaste and solitary way did early ann begin to feel confidential. on the way to the movies she was surprised to find herself telling peter all about how she had inherited the farm at horicon, about her mother, and a comic version of the latest joe valentine business. she claimed that she had beaten off joe with a stick of stove wood and she had run him off the place. "you don't need to worry about me," said early ann. "i can certainly take care of myself. i'll bet i can even lick you in a wrastle." "i'll bet you can't," said peter indignantly. "any old day!" stud brailsford and timothy halleck had been instrumental in getting early ann her small inheritance. now stud wondered whether he had been wise. not that early ann had been spoiled by her riches. she was still the same rosy-cheeked, hardworking, saucy spitfire she had always been. she was still devoted to sarah, peter, gus and stud, and she announced quite passionately that she intended to live with the brailsfords and do their work until the day she died. but now, added to all the other barriers which kept stud from the girl, there was the fact that she was independently wealthy. three hundred dollars was not to be sneezed at in . true, automobiles and mushroom-brimmed velvet hats smothered in ostrich plumes were rather expensive, but the lisle stockings worn by all the virtuous women of the period were priced at six pairs for a dollar; high buttoned shoes usually described as classy, nobby, or natty sold for two dollars a pair; and no woman dreamed of squandering more than fifty-nine cents on a pair of drawers, a corset cover, or a princess slip. free, white, eighteen, full of mustard and vinegar, and with three hundred dollars in the bank, the brailsfords' hired girl was distinctly a person to be reckoned with. her new clothes from sears roebuck were the talk of the party line. and now, to increase stud's worries, early ann was insisting on a two weeks' trip to chicago. it was unheard of that a girl should make such an excursion unchaperoned. it took less than six hours on the c., m. & st. p. to reach the sinful, brightly lighted metropolis on lake michigan; nevertheless chicago was fifty years and a half a world from the muddy village of brailsford junction. chicago might rag; make fortunes in wheat, hogs, and steel; discuss atheism, freud, and the early h. l. mencken. but brailsford junction still attended barn dances and revival meetings. it lived by the laws of solomon and moses only slightly conditioned by the paganism of omar and the invasion of the ford. these junctionites lived by the crude practical joke, the rough and ready generosity of their pioneer grandparents, by gossip and by jesus. they lived in a world of lamp light and lantern light, of full corn cribs and sunday school picnics. chicago was almost as remote as mars. even stud would have made the journey to chicago with misgivings; and for an unmarried young woman to make such a trip was unthinkable. they all pleaded with her to be sensible. "i'd never forgive myself," said sarah. "it's up to me to keep you safe from harm. i'd worry myself sick every day you were gone." "never heard of a girl going off to chicago alone," said stud. "it ain't right." "it's a big, wicked city," said gus, knowingly. "i went to chicago once for the columbian exposition. and by golly, the way little egypt shook her ..." "sh-h-h," said sarah. "well, i'm going," said early ann, "and that's that. but, mrs. brailsford, you mustn't worry for a minute. i grew up as wild as a chipmunk and i guess i can take care of myself." "but why do you want to go?" stud asked the bright-eyed girl, whose ripe young breasts under her middy rose and fell with her breathing, and whose well-turned ankles under her sailor skirt were a treat to the eye. "i've been wanting all my life to see chicago," early ann said. "i never seen a tall building, or rich ladies riding in limousines, or the silver dollars in the palmer house floor. i never seen irene castle dance, or heard grand opera, or had people wait on me like they do in a hotel." "yes, early ann, i know, i know," said sarah, earnestly. "you got a right to have one good time like that in your life. everybody has got a right to be happy just once." "but i won't budge out of this house if you ain't well enough yet," said early ann. "you've only been up and around for six days, mrs. brailsford." "no, no, early ann. you mustn't stay on my account. i'm fit as a fiddle. it's only for your own good i want you to stay." "then i'm going tomorrow on the ten o'clock train," said early ann. she began to pack in the parlor while the family showered advice and ran errands. sarah kissed her goodby tearfully. gus was suspiciously misty-eyed as he carried her telescope suitcase out to the ford, and stud drove her recklessly to the station where he insisted on paying for her round-trip ticket and for a chair on the parlor car--a luxury he had never allowed himself. "you hang on to your money, young lady," he said. "and don't make up to any city fellows." he stood watching the train until it had passed out of sight around the curve, then leaping into his ford roared back to the farm where he began two weeks of mad labor. he worked on the fences, set posts, strung shining lines of new barbed wire, pruned several trees and filled a small ravine with boulders. he trapped a weasel that had been getting his chickens, put barrels around his young fruit trees to save them from the rabbits. he sent for a new stump-puller, seductively described in the mail order catalogue, hoping to clean out the brush lot in the slack months which were ahead. one morning he noticed that the barns needed painting. he called in mack curren, who had finally given up hope of being a great portrait painter. mack and his crew gave the buildings a new red coat visible for miles. "might as well be fancy and add white trimmings," stud told the willing mr. curren. stud himself was hard at work on the new silo. he drove himself happily these days, and he drove gus who was not so happy concerning his employer's sudden desire to move the world, to paint the farm from end to end, and to add a wing to the milk house. stud remembered to bring in frosty asters and goldenrod to sarah. he told her that what she needed was a wild duck dinner, and he fixed himself a blind beside the lake and waited, watching his decoys. the shotgun shells were heavy and cool in his hand. the long, clean barrels of his gun shone like blue fire when he looked through them at the sun. not a speck of dust! every part oiled and working like a seventeen-jewel watch. the carved walnut stock was as smooth as satin to his fingers, and the gun balanced perfectly as he threw it to his shoulder. he had carved the decoys himself from white pine and had painted the intricate markings from memory. he knew the glossy green head and bold coloration of the drake mallard, as well as the more modest hues of his mate. he was familiar to the last tail feather with the tones and patterns which distinguish canvasback, redhead, bluebill, widgeon, goldeneye, and black mallard. he could imitate the quack of a duck or the honk of a canadian goose almost too well for his own safety. bright water bugs skimmed the quietly heaving surface of the lake. a muskrat with reeds in his mouth, his nose barely above the water, his tail trailing for a rudder, swam past the blind. stud's live decoys anchored in the shallow water, preened, tipped for food, gossiped of the days when they themselves were free to skim southward ahead of the storms, bound for southern bayous. stud lay back looking up at the immensity of sky, never more deeply blue, he thought, than above wisconsin in the autumn. he watched a flight of coots but let them pass; followed a wood duck with his gun but did not shoot. a hell-diver was playing among his decoys, and a couple of green-winged teal went by just out of gunshot, their wings whirring like toy windmills in a cyclone. "nothing but a ruddy can outfly them," stud observed, "and the ruddies fly so darned fast it's a wonder they don't catch fire." toward sunset the flight began in earnest, and for about ten minutes stud banged away like the federal gunboats before vicksburg. he shot his bag limit without crippling a bird, waded out in hip boots to bring them ashore, and went singing home, loaded down with rice-fattened mallards. one morning he crossed the field of wheat stubble stretching yellow and frosty on either hand and went into the brown woods to choose his trees for winter cutting. it would be good to swing an axe again, to take big white chips out of a tree, to hear it crash to the ground and settle with a sigh. it would be good to get on one end of a cross-cut saw again, to make gus cry out for mercy as they sliced through three feet of oak. his big muscles yearned for the sixteen pound mall he used for driving wedges, a sledge which made the average man pant like a one-cylinder gas engine, but which was a plaything for stud. at night he came in tired, soaked with sweat, but almost happy. sarah noticed and was glad. fall, with the red of sumac and of hard maple, the leathery brown of hickory leaves, and the pale yellow of elm was upon the land. the leaves drifted in the brisk winds, and the wind sighed through the pines of the front yard. the marshes turned to brown and almost overnight the muskrat houses sprang up in rough brown piles along the deeper channels through the grass. the orchard was a wilderness of ripening, fragrant fruit, yellow, scarlet and deep red. the house was banked about with shocks of corn. five cords of wood were already sawed and split, and more would come out of the woods as the days grew colder. gus came running in from the mail box one morning with a postcard from early ann. it had a picture of a huge hotel where early ann was staying and in a large, girlish hand: "having a good time. wish you were here!" chapter ix in the brailsford junction public library where the youth of the town came to make love, look at classic nudes, peruse the stimulating success stories to be found in the alger books, explore the jungles with livingstone and stanley, sigh and weep with the victorian poets, wallow in cooper, dickens, harriet beecher stowe, louisa may alcott and general lew wallace, and if special favorites of the librarian to visit the restricted shelves where such infamous authors as lord byron, walt whitman, anatole france and theodore dreiser languished in sin.... in this den of vicarious iniquity peter brailsford found companions more in harmony with his spirit than in the town itself, which just now was banking around its houses with manure, putting up storm doors, and getting out long underwear, fur caps, and mackinaws. here were hamlets who wandered brooding and mourning even as peter brooded and mourned. here were flaming young women who spoke in well-rounded phrases to dashing, intelligent young men who really got somewhere in life. here were poetic heroes off on their tremendous odysseys through wine-dark seas. soldiers of fortune easily subduing whole south american republics. reading had been something of a chore while he was still in high school. now he read for the joy of reading, everything he could get his hands on from dumas to ibsen and from rider haggard to shakespeare. haggard's terrific tales curdled his blood and started him off on the chain of episodes in his own life which bothered his dreams. the great men who had stood beside his bed at night bringing their huge faces closer and closer until he awoke in a cold sweat; the fear of god which had made his childhood miserable, the early fear of railroad trains which during his fourth and fifth years had sent him terrified into the cellar whenever he heard the distant whistle and the clanging of the bell; night fears as when he had gone down into the woods to find a calf and had heard the stealthy whisper of some unseen thing passing through the deep grass; the fear of death and the absolute finality of damnation. other authors started other trains of thought in his mind: nostalgic, wistful, lonely thoughts of the time when he had been lost and his mother and father had come hunting him with a lantern. he had heard them calling far off through the rain-wet woods. they had wrapped him in a blanket and they had driven for miles in the horse and buggy until at last they were at home again; thoughts of his mother coming to tuck him in at night and how desperately he wanted her to come and how fearful he was that she might forget; thoughts of the picnic to which he was not invited and how he had lain beneath the lilac bush watching the other children going by with their picnic baskets. (often he was homesick for the farm.) but some of the things he read made him fighting mad, and others made him ambitious. this evening, waiting for maxine larabee, he had picked up a book on the gypsies. a young gypsy woman stepping from her van had given him what he thought was a tremendous idea.... why not a camp trailer fitted up with every convenience for a traveling home? if gypsies could live in vans so could a world of roving motorists. here was the idea which would make him famous and which would cinch his progressive rise at the "trailer." he wanted to shout his discovery to everyone in the room. he wanted most desperately to find maxine larabee and pour out his hopes and plans. he could see just how the camp trailer would look. it would be mounted on a one-ton chassis. there would be two small windows on each side and one at the front end fitted out with screens and bright curtains. there would be a door at the back with steps which would let down. inside there would be one bunk on either side which would fold up against the wall; a folding table; built-in, narrow cupboards and clothes press; a small coal-oil stove for cooking. he felt somewhat at a loss in designing the tiny kitchen. he would have to ask maxine to help him with that. it suddenly came over him that after he and maxine were married they could take their honeymoon in one of his own camp trailers. he was sure that she would be an awfully good sport. he could see her helping to catch their dinner and cooking it over the camp fire. he took a pencil and paper from his pocket, began to sketch rapidly. despite two years of mechanical drawing at the high school his fingers lagged behind his racing mind. and now the sketch was finished. but where was maxine? he was afraid that she would not come. at eight forty-seven, however, there was a stir near the door. in a new fall ensemble with a hobble skirt that not one of the girls in the room had seen before, and which must have been purchased at some exclusive shop like bostwick's in janesville, the belle of brailsford junction made her majestic entry. cleopatra, or helen of troy, or marie antoinette could not have slain them more effectively. and, _mirabile dictu_, she was headed for peter's table. she sat down directly across from the boy, who, despite his delight, experienced as always an empty feeling in his solar plexus, blurred vision, and cold sweat in the palms of his hands. "whatcha reading?" asked maxine, sticking her gum on the under surface of the library table already plastered with dried chicle in geological strata running back half a decade. "uh ... uh ... a book on gypsies." "the dirty things," squealed maxine. "ee-magine going out in the woods like that with spiders and snakes and everything. they steal and have things in their hair." "aw, you're always spoiling everything," said peter. "well, if i'm spoiling everything i'll just run along," said the girl. "no, don't. please stay," said peter. "you can walk me home," the girl said, smiling archly, "if you don't talk about gypsies and horrid things like that." "can i walk you home?" peter asked, his disappointment forgotten, his whole being an ecstasy of expectation. "sure, you can walk me home," maxine said. "walking a girl home don't mean anything. i let lots of fellows walk me home." "gee, maxine. gee, you're beautiful tonight." "did you notice the hobble skirt?" "did i notice it! how could i help but notice it?" "i just coaxed and teased till mamma had to get it for me." "gee, maxine. you sure look swell in it. i guess you're the prettiest girl in rock county." "in rock county?" asked maxine, regarding him through large, offended eyes from beneath her coyly-tilted hat brim. "in the world, i mean," said peter, feeling his adam's apple pressing uncomfortably against his high, stiff collar. "well, it's nine o'clock," said the girl, as the librarian began banging webster's dictionary on her desk,--the usual signal for closing time. they walked home together through the fall evening talking of everything except what was near their hearts. she took his arm at the crossing, and the small place where her hand rested was burning hot beneath his coat. there was a big harvest moon rising out of the elm trees from which the leaves were drifting down like large yellow petals. their breath was white on the frosty air. far overhead they could hear the honk of the wild geese flying south and the whistle of wings cutting the air. they stood for a long time at the gate of the larabee home whose windows gleamed invitingly. a smell of wood-smoke came from the chimney of the fireplace. the wind stirred in the trees. "well, ain't you going to kiss me goodnight," maxine pouted, putting up her lips. he thought she couldn't have said it. nothing so wonderful could happen to a country boy. he hesitated, looking down at her loveliness, her lips a trifle apart, her eyes closed, waiting. his blood was singing a chorus through his temples and his ears rang with a strange music. "well," she said. but he had waited too long. from the front door of the larabee domicile came the booming voice of mr. larabee: "maxine! you come right in the house, young lady. it's after nine o'clock." * * * * * the clock had struck eleven before peter brailsford, tossing on his bed, remembered the camp trailer which was to revolutionize motoring, the beautiful little green vans, complete with running water, small kitchens, electric lights run from storage batteries, even curtains at the windows. he went to sleep dreaming of maxine, of sweet revenge, and of his trailers. a hallowe'en party at the methodist episcopal church in brailsford junction was a social event of the first magnitude. the epworth leaguers excelled salem witch-burners in striking terror into one another's hearts and upsetting usually sturdy stomachs. they put skinned grapes in one another's hands in lieu of cats' eyes, poured thick red fluid down each other's necks after having realistically cut the jugular vein with rubber daggers, they removed boards on the dark stairs to the organ loft so that one fell ten feet into a pile of leaves in the woodshed, burned each other with red hot pokers which were in reality slivers of ice, and in general proved themselves worthy disciples of torquemada. unholy shrieks from belfry, organ loft, and song-book cupboard kept the girls mildly hysterical. no good young methodist would have thought of missing the fun. for days the entertainment committee had been decorating and ripping up the church. half a cornfield and a wagon load of pumpkins had been transported to the basement and arranged realistically around the pillars and in the corners. red leaves, jack-o'-lanterns, miles of orange tissue paper, black cats, witches, and tubs for apple bobbing completed the effect in the dimly lit cavern where early on hallowe'en the young people began to gather. peter arrived at seven-thirty wearing a cardboard pumpkin head but otherwise uncostumed. he wanted to parade his stylish new green suit, his tie which would have enraged a bull, and his oxfords with exaggerated bows. young brailsford was celebrating his two-dollar-and-a-half raise at the "trailer" where he had gained the ear of mike o'casey with his invention and had been promoted to the role of super office boy in charge of making blue prints for the draftsmen. radiating pride and self-assurance he strode across the room toward the knot of epworth leaguers in the far corner. but as he approached he felt an electric discharge of uncordiality which could mean but one thing. bud spillman, who was holding forth to his coterie of pretty girls and local scions, had been jeering at his expense. peter was a farm boy and definitely an outsider. "my, my! ain't you stylish!" said the erstwhile football hero, dressed for the occasion in roman toga and laurel wreath. "take that back or i'll give you a poke," warned peter, forgetting that he stood on sacred ground. "all right, hayseed. you look like you was all dressed up for greasing trailers." "come on out in back and i'll show you." "you might get your new pants all dirty," said bud. the crowd sniggered. "what about your nightshirt?" "don't get funny or i'll make you laugh out of the other side of your mouth." "i'll give you a leave," peter said. "i wouldn't dirty my hands fighting a clodhopper. go clean your cowbarns." "what about you?" peter said. "your old man runs a livery stable." "kick in his box car," the boys shouted to bud, "poke him in the breadbasket." "anybody busted in your new shoes?" bud asked, stamping on one of peter's toes and spitting on the crushed leather. unwanted tears were welling up in peter's eyes but his voice was brave and scornful. "i dare you. i double-dare you. you yellow brailsford junction smart aleck!" then a minor miracle occurred. maxine larabee squealed, "punch him in the nose, peter. knock his block off." that was all the encouragement peter needed. dumbfounded but deliriously happy and filled with a soul-satisfying desire to beat bud spillman to a pulp he waded into the big fellow while the girls scattered screeching to view the fight from piano-top or chair, and the boys formed a yelling circle about the young battlers. "knock him for a gool ... cave in his shanty ... kick him in the belly," advised bud spillman's supporters. they also suggested that he beat peter's ears off, flatten his beezer and knock all his teeth down his throat. forgetting the fact that they were in the presence of ladies and the methodist deity, these same young christians remembered and used effectively all the forbidden four-letter anglo-saxon words. more agile than his big opponent, lighter on his feet and faster with his punches, peter slipped in and out with sharp slashing blows which bruised and cut the big football player but did not stop him. bud's haymakers seldom connected, but when they did they carried the weight of a pile driver behind them. they clinched, broke apart, flayed the air, drew a little blood, maneuvered about the basement knocking over shocks of corn and stumbling on pumpkins. bud began to tire while peter was still as fresh as a daisy. this change in probabilities did not go unnoticed by the ringside who one by one shifted their loyalties to the farm boy. maxine in particular was cheering for peter. now they were all engrossed in telling their new hero just how to mutilate the winded spillman. peter was slipping through the guard of the big fellow time after time. he gave him a final clip to the chin followed by a clout which sent bud spinning and by accident landed him squarely in a tub filled with water for apple bobbing.... "boys, boys! in the house of god?" cried the reverend mr. tooton, who had entered at that moment. "is that christian? is that the way jesus teaches us to treat one another?" "he started it," blubbered bud spillman who was struggling to get out of the icy water. "yes, and i finished it," said peter. he walked over to where the bully stood crestfallen and dripping, and added in an undertone, "any more funny stuff at the 'trailer' and i'll give you a real licking." "i'm your friend," said bud. "i always was your friend." with the ice very thoroughly broken, and everyone at his hilarious ease, the fun began. peter, a somewhat disheveled but happy ringleader, promoted charades, blind man's bluff, drop the handkerchief, skip-come-a-lou, and a version of the virginia reel which included elements of the tango and the bunny hug. they splashed and shrieked while bobbing for apples, giggled as they stole kisses in the den of horrors and behind the piano, sang at the top of their lungs while playing four in a boat and going to jerusalem, and ended a perfectly wonderful evening with pumpkin pie and coffee. bud spillman left early. and that night, for the second time in their lives, peter and maxine walked together under the bright autumn stars. they watched, with the superior amusement of teen-age individuals the hallowe'en antics of the younger hellions who were taking out a year's grievances on old man ottoson who always spoiled the ice on his hill by spreading ashes, aunt nellie fitch who was stingy with her apples, and grandpa green who had once peppered with rock salt a boy who was stealing one of his watermelons. it was only tit for tat if the kids now ripped up their board sidewalks, pulled down their gates, and tipped over their backhouses. peter lent a hand hoisting a particularly obstreperous billy goat onto the porch roof of old lady perkins' general store, then, with his girl on his arm, strolled leisurely to the tobacco city ice cream parlor, where beneath pink and green lights reflected in gilt-framed mirrors they lingered long over a concoction known as "lover's delight" while the nickel-in-the-slot piano played "everybody's doing it." feeling deliciously extravagant, he bought her a three pound box of bon bons adorned with large red roses, and they made their way through the crisp cold to maxine's home on the hill where the girl discovered with joy that her parents were not yet home from their evening of bridge in janesville, wherefore peter must come in for a cup of hot cocoa. unbelievable delight! to be invited into her house. to be near her, allowed to touch her, and perhaps even to kiss her if he chose. the very air seemed different in the house where his love ate and slept and bathed and dressed. he was sure that never before had he seen anything so exquisite as the sofa pillows she had made out of cigarette flags, or the pictures she had burned on wood. she had a little alcove off the sitting room which was all her own hung with school pennants and drawings of the charles dana gibson variety. she had a cupboard full of bon bon boxes, dance programs, comic postcards inscribed with "oh, you girl!" and a whole album of snapshots. peter was awed. he had never before seen an alcohol burner nor a chafing dish. he watched the glowing girl as she prepared cocoa and welsh rarebit, was delighted with every movement she made and every word she spoke. "i got a raise," peter said. "i'm a draftsman's assistant now. mike o'casey says he might build one of my camp trailers when i get it designed." "gee, could i meet mr. o'casey sometime?" maxine asked. "well, gosh, maxine. i dunno. that's pretty hard to arrange." "oh, all right, smarty. you think he's too good for a little girl like me." "but, darling...." he could have bitten his tongue for having said a thing like that. calling her "darling"! who did he think he was? she stood perfectly still, waiting. "you're an awful pretty girl," he said at last. he watched her as she turned to the chafing dish again. her movements were deft and very feminine. "i ... i wish you would let me kiss you like you said that night." "why not?" said maxine. she turned up her face for the first kiss peter had given a girl in his life. to peter the world was non-existent for that moment. maxine broke away to keep the cocoa from boiling over. afterwards she turned out the lights and they sat on the sofa looking out into the starlight. they could see across the creek and across mysterious miles of frozen brown marshland beyond the town to where lights twinkled in distant farmhouses. she put his hand down the neck of her dress and he was surprised and almost frightened by the soft delicacy of her breasts. "well," said maxine from the depths of her pillows. "are you just going to sit there all night?" she put her arms around him and kissed him again and again. she drew him down toward her and he found himself strangely wishing to be free. "no, no, maxine," he said humbly. "i couldn't. why, maxine, you're just an angel to me. i never even thought of you like that." throughout the rest of her days temperance crandall measured time as before or after . often in later novembers when the leaves hurried across her lawn and the hickory nuts tumbled down from the shagbark hickory she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. it was of little interest to her that mrs. sean mcginty died of cancer of the uterus after bearing thirteen children in eighteen years, or that father o'malley in laying her away spoke of her as an outstanding example of motherhood. she scarcely bothered to learn the details of the scandalous conduct of the reverend charles macarthur of the congregational church who had been caught in a compromising situation with his soprano soloist, thus confirming the worst suspicions of the methodists. and although gerty macdougal, , entered the bonds of holy matrimony with cornelius vandenheim, , just in time to inherit a civil war pension for life, temperance all but forgot to pass on the information to sister dickenson. for temperance crandall was discovering that when tragedy and scandal touch one's own household the salt has lost its savor. in the first place her mother was definitely sinking. doctor whitehead doubted that the old heart could stand the strain of another winter. secondly temperance's own peter brailsford was being seen so often with that wanton hussy maxine larabee that temperance could have wept. now, as she waited for peter to come to breakfast, the harsh whisper of calloused fingers on hard knuckles filled the room. peter brailsford, awaking from a sound sleep, was instantly aware that this was no usual day. he jumped out of bed with a shout, threw his flannel nightgown into a corner, dashed half a pitcher of icy water into the wash bowl, and with chattering teeth sponged his warm skin with a washcloth and rubbed dry with a rough towel. he danced around on his toes throwing a flurry of effective punches into some large, tough adversary, burst into a baritone solo which suddenly went soprano, pulled on long scratchy underwear, corduroy trousers, stiff cowhide boots, and a rough woolen shirt and hurried to the kitchen. "um! pancakes!" "put on plenty of butter and mmaple syrup," said temperance. "i ain't going to let any boy starve under my roof." it was a bright, cold saturday morning. peter had begged the day off. now he ran shouting with exuberance to join the crowd gathered on the library steps. maxine, the english teacher for chaperon, and nearly a dozen others were headed for lake koshkonong and a day in the woods. they piled into an ancient ford three deep and several on the running boards, chugged and steamed up hills and through valleys bright with maple and sumac until at last they came to charley's bluff where they unloaded and built a fire of driftwood on the beach between huge granite boulders. they raced, wrestled and shot at targets with a twenty-two, buried each other in the leaves and shook down hickory nuts. at noon they gathered about the fire to roast wieners on sticks and to drink black coffee. all went well until the couples paired off and maxine decided to sing songs to the accompaniment of thomas carlyle's five-string banjo. who did that half-witted son of a horse-doctor think he was, peter wondered. they were making outrageous love, peter thought. starting off with such comparatively innocuous ditties as "moonlight bay" and "you're a great big blue-eyed baby," they were soon harmonizing on "cuddle up a little closer, lovey mine," and "every little movement has a meaning all its own." peter began to wonder what sort of a girl maxine was. then he was remorseful. he was ashamed that he had let himself question maxine's character. certainly she had never let another boy kiss her or touch her breasts. she was sitting beside thomas carlyle singing songs because he had a banjo; but very soon now she would come over to peter and they would wander off together. he mustn't let himself be jealous like this. peter didn't think that he could trust himself if he should find that maxine was in any way unfaithful. he thought that he would kill her and then himself, and that people would find them locked in each other's arms. he would write a verse for their common gravestone which would be inscribed beneath twin turtle doves on pure white marble. he told himself that he was talking nonsense, that no boy should keep his girl from singing songs and flirting a little. but he lay among the leaves, looking up at the sky and brooding over the loss of this precious day which was to mean so much to them. he had intended to ask her to marry him and had thought out just what he was going to say. he had intended to tell her that first love like theirs was always true love, and how their marriage wouldn't turn out like so many marriages. their life together was going to be different. he had envisioned the whole scene over and over. they would be cozily sitting in deep leaves in some protected ravine with nothing but the trees and sky to hear what they were saying. he would pour out his heart, and she would listen with rapt attention and turn up her lips for kisses. he would tell her of his progress at the factory, and of the house they would have on shannon's hill. they would talk about their children, and about life together after they were married. it was to have been an idyllic day. and now, a gaunt, freckle-faced, banjo-strumming young fool had spoiled it all. peter felt like going over and pushing the boy in the face and picking up maxine as he might a child and carrying her away. it would be easy to do. she was as light as a feather and always tripped along as though she were made of thistle down. her flesh was like thistle down too. it made his head whirr to think of her soft flesh. always, always something came between peter and happiness. he had been brooding and miserable for as long as he could remember, with only now and then a moment of intense happiness to repay him for his misery. all his life he had worried about good and evil, about god and hell, about his features, his clothes, what people were thinking of him, and whether he would ever amount to anything. and now that he was in love he was experiencing a deeper and more exquisite misery than he could have imagined possible. maxine! maxine! but here she came at last, all radiant and smiling, her cheeks as red as apples. his heart leapt up in a moment and all his doubts left him. they walked along the beach, skipped stones on the thin ice and on the open stretches of water, dug a bird's nest out of the high, black banks of peat which skirt the beach to the south of charley's bluff. they discovered a little stream and followed its course back through the willows to a clearing where they explored a deserted cabin and a barn still filled with timothy and clover. from the wide door of the loft they could see across the lake to lake house point and to the brailsford farm with its bright red barns and to the great cottonwood tree on cottonwood hill. "you see that big tree," peter said. "not a man in the country can climb it, not even my father. but i'm going to climb it some day." "uh huh," said maxine comfortably. "i'm going to do lots of things in my life. great things. i'm learning a heap about draftsmanship at the trailer factory. i'm almost finished with my blue prints for that camp trailer. maybe some day when i get to be famous...." "don't talk shop," maxine said. "well, what shall we talk about?" "don't let's talk, beautiful boy." she stopped his mouth with kisses and unashamed gave him his first lesson in love. * * * * * as was usual in brailsford junction death came before the doctor. temperance was alone in the house when her mother died. she went up the stairs at six o'clock bringing the old lady a bite of supper and found her breathing heavily and rather chilled. she tried to reach doctor whitehead by telephone, but no one answered at the house or the office. she called out the upstairs window to a passing boy and told him to look for the doctor in front of the pool hall, then turned back to the stricken woman who opened her eyes once and smiled at temperance feebly. temperance thought that the poor old thing was humming a hymn but when she leaned closer she realized that it was "daisy bell," a great favorite of her mother's. thinking about it later she realized that her mother had never been what brailsford junction usually termed a christian. even before the death rattle began, the thin face turned blue and the small hands clutching the counterpane were as cold as ice. temperance did not break down until she had pulled the sheet up over the face of the dead. then a great flood of loneliness and grief came over her and she ran down the street in her house dress with her hair stringing out behind. hardly knowing what she was doing she hurried up the stairs leading to the offices of timothy halleck and incidentally to the fly-blown waiting-room of doctor whitehead. brailsford junction's leading physician was hanging up his prevaricating gilt placard, "back in half an hour." "well, well, i was just heading for your home," he said. "i hope it ain't anything serious. how is your mother?" "as well as could be expected with you on the case," cried temperance, bitterly. "she died fifteen minutes ago." "now ain't that too bad," said doctor whitehead, squirting a stream of tobacco juice into a convenient corner. "i suppose you'll want a death certificate, eh?" temperance burst in upon timothy halleck who during that day had met a delegation of indignant mothers complaining about the oldest son of crazy jack bailey, a young wife whose drunken husband beat her up every saturday night with the stove poker, and the president of the bank who threatened to cut off his credit if he cancelled his mortgage against the widow morrison. for once his patience was tried beyond endurance. "no, miss crandall, this time i will not listen to your gossip. i've heard all that i can stand for one day. why can't you leave people alone? let them live their lives and you live yours. for twenty years i've been wanting to tell you that you're a meddlesome, tale-bearing.... there, there now. don't cry, temperance. i realize i was a bit thoughtless. why ... why, what is it?" "i didn't know who else to tell," temperance said, hiding her face in her hands. "mother's dead, timothy." temperance crandall was to remember to her dying day that timothy halleck came around the desk and put his arm across her shoulders and told her that he would take care of the funeral arrangements. chapter x the eastbound train had gone shrieking through brailsford junction pulled by two engines to buck the drifts. bundles of madison papers were tossed from the baggage car as the train passed, and the engineer had waved at nat cumlien, the station master. now in a corner of the station half a dozen rosy-faced young rascals fought and laughed as they stuffed their paper sacks. "wish i had about ten kids," thought stud, watching the boys while waiting for the long over-due four-thirty-nine from chicago. "six or eight sons and a batch of girls." he sighed as he looked out at the unexpected november blizzard. the telephone wires sang a high monotonous tune. snow drifted in rippled waves over the tracks and the cinder piles beyond. the station windows rattled in the forty mile gale and the telegraph instrument kept up its incessant, monotonous tattoo. "gol darn! there never was nothing in my life i wanted like a lot of youngsters. big strapping boys to help me with the cows and crops. good looking girls to help sarah." he spat reflectively at the roaring stove, shifted his position on the bench. "peter's a good boy, and he certainly ran that thrashing machine slicker than a greased pig. but now he's figuring on spending all his mortal days in a trailer factory." he couldn't make the boy out, always mooning around and sighing. not mean nor hard to handle, but with a head full of silly ideas. maybe all he needed was to sow his wild oats. peter'd make a good enough farmer if he'd put his mind to it. he was smart enough, and strong enough, and a real good worker. but stud doubted that he would ever see the boy back on the farm again. he wished he had a dozen big sons, strapping fellows who could handle a quarter section at sixteen. he wished it were as easy to get human young ones as it was calves, colts and lambs. why, if a mare didn't foal you tried another mare. if a cow didn't calve you turned her into beef steak. and any stallion, bull or ram could serve half a hundred females of his species. "wish i had a harem," thought stud; "i'd get me all the children a man could want. we've got enough victuals to feed about forty on that farm. i'd breed 'em big and feed 'em plenty. it'd be a sight for sore eyes to see my litter." stud was awaiting early ann's train from the big city. she would be getting off the cars any time now all rosy and fresh and pert with her tongue running away with her and her feet fairly dancing. young, healthy, and going to waste. what was the matter with young fellows these days, didn't they know a good thing when they saw it? early ann was just what stud needed around the farm: a good little filly that'd make a good mare. "shoot, such a way to talk," thought stud, spitting at the glowing stove. "can't breed humans like you breed cattle. got to think about marriage vows and morality and all that sort of business." nevertheless the thought stayed with him,--how he was getting along in his forties and how he wanted more boys. often that winter he would stop work in the snowy fields where he was husking corn to look out across the frozen lake and sigh. "four-thirty-nine'll be another half hour late," said nat cumlien, coming out of his cage to throw half a hod of soft coal into the stove. "got some big drifts down near janesville." "four-thirty-nine ain't been on time in ten years, drifts or no drifts," said stud. "well, i do my best," said nat. he went out onto the platform and changed the lantern, threw a couple of bundles of hides and some milk cans onto the truck, came in blowing on his fingers and brushing off the snow. "whew, that'd freeze the ears off a brass monkey," said nat. he retired to his cage and his game of solitaire. after an eternity the big headlight cut through the snow and the muffled whistle shook the windows. stud hurried out to the platform as the train wheezed in and ground to a stop. early ann jumped off, laughing and squealing. he carried her baggage to the cutter and they streaked home through the storm to the accompaniment of jingling sleigh-bells and creaking snow beneath the polished runners. deeply covered with robes and sharing each other's warmth, they shouted to each other above the storm. it was good to be home again, good to be turning in at the brailsford gate with the windows of the farmhouse shining on the snow. stud hurried off to unhitch while gus helped early ann with her bundles. sarah stood on the back stoop shivering and wiping her hands on her apron. "welcome home, early ann," she cried. "here i am safe and sound, mrs. brailsford. i had a wonderful time." "did you see the stock yards?" gus wanted to know. "or sears, roebuck's?" "it'll take a year to tell all i saw," said early ann. she went into the warm, lamp-lit kitchen fragrant with the smells of pie and coffee and roasting meat. they had a surprise for early ann. gus had caught a raccoon in one of his traps. they were having a raccoon supper with sweet potatoes and corn bread. "hope it tastes as good as it smells," said early ann. "here, mrs. brailsford, let me help with everything." "change your dress first, child." throughout supper she regaled them with the wonders of chicago: the room she had had six stories above the street with electric lights and a brass bed, and a private bathroom with hot and cold running water. she had lived like a queen. she had slept until eight o'clock every morning, and once she had taken her breakfast in bed. "and you should see the limousines and street cars, and boats on the river! they got bridges that lift up, and buildings five times as tall as the windmill," said early ann. "did you see the board of trade?" stud wanted to know. "no i didn't," the girl admitted, "but i saw a woman smoking a cigarette, and couples doing the tango on a glass dance floor. it was lovely the way they served food, with white napkins and pretty glass and silver." "i'm so glad you went," sarah said. "it'll be something to think about until the day you die." "such pretty dresses in the stores," said early ann. "i sure do wish you could have been along, mrs. brailsford. i bought myself a new corset and.... oh, i shouldn't." "don't mind me," said gus. "there was a big parade for emmeline pankhurst who came all the way from london to talk about woman suffrage, and i was as close as across this room from her. she looked like a fighter all right." "she's a criminal," said gus, "she oughta be hanged." "she's a great leader and a fine woman," said sarah, quietly. "they'll treat her like a real saint before she dies." "and everybody was all aflutter about general booth coming to town, and i went to a drama called 'lead, kindly light.' it was awful uplifting." when she couldn't think of another thing to tell them, early ann brought some packages to the table. "this is for you, mrs. brailsford." sarah opened the pretty box with trembling fingers, saying, "you shouldn't have done it, early ann. i don't deserve a thing." and when she found silk stockings in the box she started to cry. "why, i never had a pair of silk stockings in my life," she said. "i'll have to watch you, now you got silk stockings," said stud. "you'll be running off with vern barton or somebody the first thing i know." sarah looked through the silk at the lamp and rubbed the smooth stuff against her cheek. she kept them treasured in her bureau drawer, but never wore them to the day she died. the present early ann had bought for gus was a set of arm garters and matching green tie. the hired man grinned like a cheshire cat when he opened the box. stud was given a magnificent, fancy white vest of imported bird's-eye weave with detachable pearl buttons. "never seen anything so classy in all my born days," said stud, slipping into the vest. he put his watch in the watch pocket, draped his gold log-chain across his middle, and paraded in front of the kitchen mirror, holding up the lamp to get the full effect. "that's mighty nice of you, girl," said stud. "i reckon i ought to kiss you for that." "stanley," said sarah, in laughing disapproval, "i reckon you better not." early ann said she would keep peter's present until she saw him. meanwhile she had one more gift for the entire family. she unwrapped a small stereopticon on which she had squandered seven dollars. sarah put up a sheet at one end of the kitchen, while early ann lighted the coal-oil lamp in the little black box and blew out all the other lights in the room. there in the warm, dark kitchen they spent two magic hours. over and over again they called for "rock of ages," "niagara falls," "the statue of liberty," "the sinking of the maine" and "the washington monument." altogether there were twenty-four slides in full color. "next time you go to chicago you got to take me," said gus, pouring early ann another mug of cider. * * * * * it was not until early ann saw peter, and gave him the gold watch she had bought him, that she told the other side of her trip to chicago. "i was scared half the time and so lonesome. i felt like coming home on the first train. i didn't know a single soul and the city was so big and noisy. you don't catch me going to chicago all alone again." "and i'll bet you spent all your money," peter growled accusingly. "i got two hundred and three dollars left," said early ann, averting her eyes. "i feel kind of wicked when i think how i've squandered ninety-seven dollars. but i ain't going to spend one more cent until the day i'm married. i've got to have something left to help set up housekeeping." "who you going to marry?" peter asked. "oh, i got a fellow," lied early ann. she wanted to egg him on, and she was a trifle disappointed at the casual way in which he had taken it. one windy november afternoon when stud and gus were cutting firewood in the grove beside the lake, stud looked across the bay and was surprised to see smoke streaming from the chimney of the old hunting lodge on lake house point. the blizzard, which had flung ten-foot waves against the crumbling cliff, had stripped the leaves from oak and elm and maple, sent them in cascades down every ravine and gully, left the old building naked to the eye. "looks like we got a neighbor," said stud. "better not monkey with my mushrat traps." "what'd you do?" "pepper his behind with rock salt from the old ten gauge." "you talk big," stud admitted. "why don't you mosey over and see who it is?" "not me," said gus. "it ain't healthy." stud grinned. he knew that gus would rather sleep in a cemetery or break a looking-glass than set foot on lake house point. long ago the limestone bluff had been the stronghold of indians. later a small colony of mormons, hated alike for their polygamy and their horse-thieving, had made the point their hide-away until chased from the country by the indignant settlers. in the eighties a club of rich chicago duck hunters had put up the present lodge where shortly before the turn of the century a bloody murder had occurred. no one went near the lodge now. the porches were drifted deep with leaves, the old boathouse was strewn in whitened planks the length of the beach. the bluff was overgrown with sumac, ivy and grapevines. scrub oak extended from the edge of the cliff to the marsh behind the point. old women, children and hired hands believed implicitly that ghosts could be seen at the broken windows of the lodge and in the rotting halls and paneled rooms. stud scoffed at all these old-wives' tales, but admitted he would rather live on his own side of the bay than on that bluff with its unpleasant memories. "might be that feller," suggested gus. "the one prowling around here nights?" "might be." "might be, but probably ain't." possibly gus was right. stud had an uneasy feeling that a man by the name of joe valentine was living in the lodge, trapping perhaps, catching fish, stealing a few chickens. stud had heard of joe valentine from timothy halleck who in tracing early ann's claim to the horicon farm had run across joe's trail. later early ann herself had admitted the existence of this stepfather, and had confessed to stud that it was joe who had been annoying her. she told stud something of her early life, her days with joe and her mother in the shack near rockford, illinois, her mother's death, and her flight from her stepfather. she said she had been ashamed of joe, of his treatment of her mother, and of his attitude toward _her_. she had wanted to forget the past, to live where no one would know that she was the illegitimate child of bung sherman, or the stepdaughter of joe valentine. stud thought of joe as more of a nuisance than a menace. nevertheless he was determined to investigate his new neighbor on lake house point. other matters intervened. ulysses s. grant had acquired a taste for chicken, and almost every unlucky fowl who got into his pen was caught by the wily boar and eaten alive. stud had to put chicken wire outside the planks of the boar's pen to save sarah's flock from destruction. then there was the problem of peter and maxine larabee. stud was of the opinion that the boy would never be a man until he learned the facts of life first-hand, but sarah was worrying herself into another nervous breakdown. stud made a futile trip to town. peter was belligerent and uncommunicative. stud was outwardly bellicose but secretly sympathetic. the net result was a widened breach between father and son, although stanley led sarah to believe that he had put some sense into the boy's head. brailsford had momentarily forgotten his plan to investigate the old hunting lodge when one morning--the day before thanksgiving--he found a man setting a trap at the end of a hollow log just out of sight of the house over the crest of cottonwood hill. "trying to catch one of my 'coons?" stud asked amiably. the man whirled to face him, his hand on his sheath knife. "nothing to fight about," said stud. "what's your name?" "joe valentine." "you ain't the fellow who's moved in over on the point?" "that's my business," said joe. "i'll make it my business. you been prowling around here quite a bit lately." "i got a right to catch my living," said joe. every night he looked across the bay at the glowing windows of the brailsford farm, thought of his stepdaughter over there, all the good things to eat. "i got a right," he said. "i got a right to run you off my land." "you ain't got a right to early ann." "get off my place before i get mad," stud said. he had his womenfolks and cattle to think about. joe whipped out his knife and prepared to spring. like sticking a pig, he thought. like the time his father killed his kitten with a butcher knife. he had buried the cat and put flowers on its grave. after a few days he dug it up to see if it had gone to heaven. joe leapt. stud sidestepped, put out his foot. joe tripped, fell into the bushes, turned a complete somersault and was up again, knife in hand. "you're going to hurt yourself with that knife," stud said. "we don't fight with knives in these parts." stud never gouged or bunted, but he could see that anything went with joe valentine. joe sprang again. his knife slashed empty air. simultaneously something like a sledge hammer hit him behind the ear. he staggered, whirled. more careful now, the men feinted, maneuvered, circled for advantage. joe doubled over as though caught with pain. stud rushed. joe tossed a handful of snow and fine gravel into stud's eyes. half-blinded, stud leapt back. he felt the knife rip into his right shoulder and the blood wet his shirt. bright blood sprinkled the dirty snow. now stud was fighting in earnest. as joe came on, stud aimed a kick at the knife arm, missed, fell. joe tried to hamstring the fallen giant, was lifted bodily into the air by a great backward kick. they were up again, feinting and charging. stud grabbed the knife arm in a clinch, held it as in a vise, slugged with his other fist joe's head and body. joe brought up his knee. sickness swept over stud in a great wave. they were rolling on the ground now, panting and straining, tearing up the bloody snow and gravel. stud caught joe's arm in a hammer-lock. joe screamed in pain, dropped his knife. stud grabbed for a full nelson, and joe slipped out of his grasp like a snake. stud kicked the knife out of reach as they leapt to their feet. they slugged, sweat and panted. two men on a hilltop overlooking the world. murder in their hearts. joe was quicker and more slippery, a tricky boxer, fast with rabbit punches, kidney punches, jabs below the belt. stud had the power of a bull, was tireless and able to take almost limitless punishment. he sent haymakers crashing to joe's lantern jaw, heart, and solar plexus. his shoulder was throbbing, but he battled on. joe made a crying sound through his torn lips. suddenly he was afraid. he turned and ran down the hill through the hazel brush, sobbing, breathless. stud did not follow. he watched joe valentine bee-lining for lake house point. slowly he doubled his right arm and felt the huge bicep. "that's the last we'll see of joe valentine," he told the giant cottonwood. he chuckled as he strode back toward the house. with silos full, full haymows, bins of grain; with sheds loaded to the last beam with tobacco; with the farm shipshape and bright with new paint they faced the coming winter. the provision cellar was loaded with earthenware crocks of pickles, sauerkraut and preserves; glasses of jelly; mason jars of cherries, applesauce, plums, pears, raspberries, and strawberries. the smokehouse reeked of ham and pleasant hickory smoke from morning until night. hams hung in the cellar beside the slabs of bacon, and the small white ears of popcorn. in a dry bin with a wooden floor were hickory nuts and walnuts by the bushel with a few pecks of butternuts and hazel nuts to furnish variety. apple cider in brown jugs, wild grape juice in tight bottles, with just a gallon or two of blackberry cordial in case of sickness lined the lower shelf of the can cupboard. there were bins of sand for carrots, beets and celery. pie pumpkins in one corner, hubbard squashes in another. and although stanley brailsford longed for more children, wished that sarah could have better health, and mourned the rift which was slowly arising between himself and peter, he had much to be thankful for as he said the blessing over his thanksgiving dinner. above all he thanked god most devoutly that he was the strongest man in southern wisconsin and could provide for and protect his womenfolks and cattle. chapter xi "stop the team a minute," peter told gus. he looked down upon the white-roofed house and barns, the frozen creek, strawstacks like giant mushrooms capped with white, the drifted hedgerows interlaced with rabbit tracks, lake koshkonong like a floor of green glass surrounded by its gnarled forests of black, leafless oaks. "what's the matter?" gus asked. "had a fight with your girl?" "you wouldn't understand." "don't trust no woman farther'n you could throw a horse," counseled the hired man. "i told her that if she went off to her grandmother's in madison over christmas she could stay away for good." "and so she went!" "how'd you know?" "any woman would." "damn her," said peter. "no, i don't mean that." he wondered why he was confiding in gus. no one else to confide in, really. "just act like she doesn't exist," said gus. "go ahead and have a good time without her. she'll come crawling back on her belly." "you don't know this girl." "maybe not this one," gus admitted, "but they're all cats out of the same litter." * * * * * "you home, boy?" stud asked. early ann helped peter off with his coat and chucked him under the chin. "trailer factory's shut down, dad. they're losing money." "shut down for good?" "start up again the first of the year more'n likely." "what'd you do if the 'trailer' shut down for good?" "don't know, father." "might you come back to the farm?" "i might," said the boy, averting his eyes. four days until christmas. the house was already decorated with holly and red bells. there were frost flowers on the window panes and the base burner glowed brightly. his mother was sitting before the stove in her favorite rocker piecing a quilt. "there's lots of rabbits this year," sarah said. she thought: i don't want him to kill rabbits. i hate trapping, hunting, and slaughtering. it made me sick the time i saw stanley castrating the little boars. "i'll have a good time, mother," peter said. he thought: why shouldn't i have a good time. maxine probably lets half the boys in brailsford junction kiss her. "we haven't had a good rabbit stew all season," sarah said. she thought: i used to tell him stories about every piece in the quilt. what dress it came from and where i wore it. this piece is out of the brown silk i took along on my honeymoon. i wore it that night we rowed out on lake mendota and saw the dome of the capitol at madison shining in the moonlight. i wonder if stanley remembers. "that's a pretty quilt," peter said. he thought: she used to tell me stories about the pieces she was sewing. i wish she would again. "see, it's a flower design," she said. she thought: he's grown up now. he wouldn't want to listen. "i got the drawings for my camp trailer done, ma," he said. he thought: i'll do something great for mother when i'm rich. "i'm sure mr. o'casey will build one," she said. she thought: then he'll be gone forever. "i'm not so sure," peter said. he thought: if the "trailer" shuts down i'll probably have to come back to the farm and be glad of the chance. sarah thought: i want to know every little thing about his life--how he gets on at the factory, how temperance crandall takes care of him, whether he smokes or drinks, whether he's a good boy and goes to church, or whether he hangs around the pool hall. i want to know about maxine larabee. but i don't dare ask. it would frighten him still farther away. the needle clicked against the thimble. the silk rustled in sarah's hands. coal crackled in the stove and the wind whispered at the corners of the house. after a while the smell of roasting chicken drifted in from the kitchen. "you're getting to be a big boy," she said. she thought: i wanted him to stay little forever. i wanted to keep him close to me, but he's grown so far away. "i'm more than six feet," the boy said. he thought: it's beautiful with maxine. i can't get along without her any more. i'm a man now and know all there is to know about women. sarah was startled looking into his face. she thought: why, he isn't my little boy. he's a stranger. that night at supper--chicken, dressing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, giblet gravy, hot mince pie and coffee--stud waved a drumstick while orating just what he would do if joe valentine came across the brailsford line again. still grasping the drumstick he assumed a fighting pose which would have startled john l. sullivan, the strong boy from boston. "i can't sleep nights for thinking of that terrible man," sarah confessed. "why don't we chase him off the point?" peter asked. "or have the law on him?" suggested gus. "i'll shoot him if i ever get a chance," early ann cried passionately. "leave him to me," stud told the rest of the family. "he ain't harmful. he's got a right to live the same as we have. we ain't going to shoot him or have the law on him, or run him off the point. but if he comes across our line again i'll give him a real licking." "give him a couple of extra punches for me," said early ann. "i wish i was a man. i'll bet i could lick him." "and meanwhile," said stud, "it's almost christmas day. we'll have to take him some victuals for his christmas dinner,--something for the olesons and the widow morrison, too. we'll do it tonight." "drive over to lake house point at night?" gus asked in dismay. "scared cat," taunted early ann. "i wasn't thinking of myself," said gus, "i was just worrying about the womenfolks." early ann tittered. after supper they put on sheepskin coats and mufflers, filled a bob-sleigh with pecks of potatoes, bags of apples, three small picnic hams, and some canned fruit. they sat in the deep straw covered with fur robes and went gayly down the road to the tumble-down oleson shack. "they're svenskies," said stud, "but they're better neighbors than some civilized people." he poked gus in the ribs to emphasize the taunt. "i'd rather be a scandihoovian than a gol darn beef-eating englishman," sniffed gus. it made sarah sad to see how grateful hilda oleson was for the presents. ole oleson was sullen as usual. "ay t'ink next yar ay vill gif you sometink to eat, ya?" he puffed vigorously at his corncob, and continued to carve his ship model. the rosy hilda, all aflutter, began to apologize for the state of her house which was as spotless as a new pan. she led them in on tiptoe to see young ole, who would be a year old in a few months now. he lay with his small, plump arms thrown above his head, his lips working busily as he dreamed of hilda's breast. the lamp light made a halo of his blond fuzz, shone upon his pink cheeks and his long eyelashes. the soft spot on his head beat rhythmically with his pulse. he stirred, made a lusty sucking noise with his mouth, opened his big blue eyes, and began to cry for his evening nursing. sarah, as always in the presence of a baby, mourned her age. stud was frankly envious; gus, embarrassed. "it seems like yesterday you were this size," sarah told the discomfited peter. hilda put the baby in sarah's arms, and he began to nuzzle at her shrunken breasts. quick tears sprang to her eyes. "ve yoost love little ole," hilda whispered to sarah as they returned to the other room. "ay t'ink anudder kom pretty soon." ole senior brightened, seeing the brailsfords gathered around his son. he helped his wife to serve coffee cake and coffee, and when the visitors were leaving forced them to take a beautiful little full-rigged ship with a norse figurehead at its prow. they had never seen such exquisite carving. he followed them to the door, and called after them, "tack sa mycket ... thanks, thanks." they were only a few minutes at the widow morrison's, then went jingling through the snowy moonlight down the all but overgrown road to lake house point. they crossed the corduroy stretch bordered by leafless willow trees and climbed the rutted, precipitous lane which rose through scrub oak and hazel brush to the old hunting lodge. as they reached the kitchen door the light went out, and although stud went boldly in and called joe valentine no one answered. they unloaded the food and carried it into the dark kitchen, then turned the horses toward home and went plunging down the hill,--sparks flying from the sharp-shod hooves. one evening they went hunting rabbits in the moonlight to test out the new shotgun which temperance had given peter as a pre-dated christmas present, and the next night all the young folks for miles gathered for a bob-sleigh party. coming home at three in the morning through a white, silent world early ann rested her head on peter's shoulder. the moon was going down in the west throwing long shadows from fenceposts and trees. the tired horses walked slowly, blowing steam from their frosty nostrils. peter slipped his arm around early ann and she did not take it away. he kissed her as they turned in at the farm and she returned the kiss. but he was happy that next morning she made no allusions to their love-making. instead she challenged him to a skating race and they battled eagerly across the bay with the wind stinging their cheeks and their skates ringing. on christmas eve the whole family helped to decorate the christmas tree. they pinned their socks and stockings to the branches and each in turn played surreptitious santa claus. such rare luxuries as oranges and english walnuts were stuffed into bags of red netting, and these in turn were shoved into the foot of each stocking. a very few inexpensive but thoughtful gifts were wrapped in tissue paper and tied with silver ribbons. stud had the worst of it, trying to tie pretty bow knots with his large, blunt fingers. they gathered about the organ and sang christmas carols while sarah played. beginning with such semi-frivolous songs as "jingle bells" and "deck the halls with wreaths of holly," they progressed to the more moving hymns such as "hark, the herald angels sing," and "silent night, holy night." sarah's sweet soprano, stud's deep bass, early ann's husky alto, and peter's clear baritone joined to praise the mother and child who one thousand nine hundred and thirteen years before had occupied a manger in bethlehem. on that same christmas eve, joe whalen and kate barton who had been respectively pumping and playing the methodist pipe organ since their late teens decided to elope to janesville. kate had finally induced joe to take the temperance pledge, but he felt that a quart of rye was imperative to celebrate his coming nuptials. temperance crandall lit the candle in her front window. she could hear the children singing at the church, but she did not cross the street to attend the cantata. after a while she blew out the candle, stoked the fire, went up the cold, dark stairs to her bed. on a pullman sleeper roaring toward new york, mike o'casey awoke from a fretful sleep, pulled up the blind, and found he was in cleveland. christmas carollers were making an ungodly racket on the station platform. he made obscene remarks about the whole idea of christmas as well as the fool notion of attempting to run a trailer factory in brailsford junction. his friend o'hallohan, the new york banker, would have to sign his note for fifty thousand dollars, or he would tell tammany what he knew about o'hallohan. to the tune of the "junkman rag" maxine larabee was dancing the night away in madison, wisconsin, with a beta from the university of wisconsin who would presently know the last word on legumes, rotation of crops, and soil analysis. she was very sleepy the next morning when her wealthy grandmother came into her bedroom crying "merry christmas." from the windows where he sat brooding joe valentine could see the brailsford home ablaze with christmas. a plan began to take form in his slow mind. if stud brailsford thought that he could buy him with a few groceries he was badly mistaken. joe never forgot. he hadn't forgotten that nigger who had knifed him in rockford, illinois. some black woman was probably still hunting for that shine. and stud brailsford--when the others were in bed--went out with his lantern to take a last look at the barns. the ponies drowsed in their box stalls, the big bull's eyes glowed in the lantern light. stud stopped to pet the stallion and the twin percheron colts. one of those twins would some day make a great sire. he noticed that the stars were very large and bright above his barn that night. book four chapter xii _during the palace of peace at the hague was dedicated. war and cholera swept the balkans. the munition works prospered as germany and france greatly increased their standing armies. irish home rule agitators and militant suffragettes made life miserable for british statesmen. forty million american church-goers gave four hundred million dollars to religious organizations. american junkers and the oil interests wanted armed intervention in mexico. pavlowa in a syndicated newspaper feature taught america the tango and other popular steps, while aunt prudence in her advice to the lovelorn sternly counseled "anxious" against kissing any man but the one she intended to marry...._ but to peter brailsford, enamored of woman, a trifle uncertain of his newly attained maturity, six feet tall, his muscles swelling toward the gigantic proportions of his father's, his chest deepening, and his mind exploring ever more distant horizons.... to this big healthy product of southern wisconsin the year's-end meant but one thing. he was invited to supper and a new year's eve celebration at maxine larabee's home, and he was determined to create the right impression in the household of brailsford junction's leading attorney. there was little doubt that he was correctly attired, his table manners would pass muster--though he must remember not to tuck his napkin in his vest--and he had learned by rote what he was going to say when he spoke to attorney larabee about marrying maxine. nevertheless the big fellow trembled as he was admitted into the magnificence of the larabee home with its golden-oak mission furniture, its wilton carpets and its beaded portieres. mrs. larabee descended upon him plump, pink, and gushing. maxine laughed musically as she gave him her hand, but attorney larabee merely grunted a hello from behind his paper and rolled his cigar into the other corner of his mouth. peter felt depressed. despite maxine's rendition (at her mother's request) of "too much mustard," and "i've got a pain in my sawdust," with other instrumental and vocal numbers. despite comic postcards showing vegetables the size of freight cars, fords no larger than insects, and the romantic series by harrison fisher entitled "six periods in a girl's life." despite such notable diversions as a chinese puzzle and a set of views showing the grand cañon in its actual colors-- peter felt depressed. supper was served at last. after the blessing, soup was ladled from a tureen embossed with lilacs into soup bowls of the same design. and with the soup came the deluge: "i understand you want to marry my daughter," boomed mr. larabee. "well, yes, sir," peter admitted, looking into the green, viscous liquid in his bowl and feeling ill. "are you prepared to support her in the manner to which...." "now, charles," said mrs. larabee, "you were as poor as a church mouse when you asked me." "mother!" said the stern head of the house, "i will take care of this." mrs. larabee slipped back into the soft and matronly sea of pink chiffon from which she had momentarily arisen. "i suppose you realize," said attorney larabee, "that maxine comes from one of brailsford junction's first families...." "they named the town after a brailsford," blurted peter. "my dad's the biggest stock breeder in rock county. and i've got the best chance in the world to be a great inventor or something.... and, well, anyhow i love her," he finished weakly. "hmmm, hmmm," said mr. larabee. "i shall have to think about it." fuming, and scarcely touching his supper, peter managed somehow to last out the eternity between soup and pie. he wished violently that he might forget for a moment that mr. larabee was maxine's father so that he could give him the beating he so richly deserved. he wondered how it was possible that anyone so delightful as maxine could be the daughter of such a conceited, bigoted old thundercloud as attorney larabee and his addle-pated wife. at last the meal was over. mrs. larabee was remorseful, but announced that she and mr. larabee could not stay for the young folks' party. they could scarcely turn down the billings who had invited them over for the evening. peter waited until the old folks were gone, then with rapidly beating heart went up the stairs and slipped into maxine's bedroom where the girl was dressing for the party. she was in bloomers and silk shirt and was pulling on her stockings. "go away, peter," she said. "no, no ... i can't." he sat on the edge of the bed watching her moodily as she dressed and primped before the mirror. she could turn his heart inside out with the least gesture of her lovely hands. the way she threw back her curls as she combed her hair, the way she tilted her chin as she looked at herself in the mirror! he was mad about her, and she was as cool as a cucumber. it had been in this very room that they had been together that night. they had lain, listening to the wind scattering the leaves in a shower across the roof; hearing the distant clop, clop of horses' hooves. they had almost been caught when the larabee automobile had turned in at the drive half an hour previous to their expectations. peter had slipped out a side door not a minute too soon. he had been tying his tie when he was a block down the street. "i guess you're getting tired of me," peter said with a lump in his throat. "i guess you'll be making love to some other fellow one of these days." "how dare you, peter brailsford!" she cried, taking the hairpins out of her mouth and turning to glare at him. "suggesting that it might be any boy like that. what kind of a girl do you think i am?" "i'm beginning to wonder," peter admitted, shocked at his frankness. "don't be tiresome," said the pretty girl, giving a final pat to her hair. "do you think anybody will notice if i don't wear a corset? i simply loathe corsets." "i suppose i am tiresome," said peter, gloomily. "oh, shush!" said maxine. "i asked you a question." "wear whatever you please," peter said. "why, peter brailsford," cried maxine. "you're simply horrid. now do be a good boy and help me with these hooks and eyes. i never can get them by myself." when he could no longer stand the uncertainty, peter brailsford made his excuses to milly vincent,--she of the silly lisp and carrot-colored hair. he stalked from the room while the piano and violin played strauss, ascended the dark stairs, and stood at the landing watching the clouds scudding across the face of the moon. the sound of laughter and dancing feet floated up to the unhappy boy. he heard the strauss waltz vaguely. he said that he would go away to some other town where no one would know him. he would go to chicago or even new york. he would go to the farthest ends of the earth and forget that there had ever been a town named brailsford junction or a girl named maxine. after a few moments he turned from the window and ascended quietly to the upper hall. scarcely breathing, he put his ear to maxine's bedroom door. all that he could hear was the throbbing of his own pulse in his ears. bud spillman and maxine had been drinking. he had seen them slip away together half an hour before, and they had not come back. if he found them together he knew that he would kill them and then himself. there! the rustle of silk. and now their voices and quiet laughter. strangely, he was not angry now. all of his fury was suddenly drained away and he felt empty and shaken. he was amazed to find that the violin was still playing the strauss waltz. chapter xiii on a steel-cold january morning with the frozen lake booming and the wind whining along the telephone wires--a morning so cold that the pump in the kitchen was frozen and three inches of ice capped the stock tanks--the brailsfords rolled out at four to begin butchering. they left the deep warmth of their feather-beds, came down the narrow, precipitous back stairs worn in hollows by years of weary feet. early ann thawed the pump with hot water from the tea kettle; sarah started the oatmeal, ham and eggs, toast and coffee. gus scratched a peep-hole in the hoar frost on the window pane and looked out into the ten-below moonlight. "it's a cold day to butcher," sarah said. "mightn't we wait a few days, stanley?" "hank vetter says he ain't got a pork chop left in his shop." "i suppose if we must, we must." the men pulled on arctics, wrapped red mufflers about their necks, drew on their worn dogskin coats and fur caps, and taking milk pails and lanterns went out to the barns. they had no time this morning to carry water for the stock. they chopped holes in the ice on the tanks; drove the animals out to drink. the water froze as it streamed from the beasts' lips. breath froze in white clouds about the horses' nostrils. the great bull, led by the nose, bellowed and snorted in the lantern light. the horses' hooves rang on the frozen mud of the barnyard. "it's a rip snorter today," said stud, coming in from the barns. he warmed his hands over the roaring stove. sarah dipped him hot water from the reservoir and poured it into the wash basin. she hung his coat toward the fire to keep it warm, and hastened to serve the breakfast. while they ate they argued the all-important problem of which animals were to die; and by five-thirty they were ready to begin the day's work. sarah, steeling herself for the ordeal; early ann, who pretended she did not mind slaughtering; gus, who had a sentimental fondness for every animal on the place; and stud, for whom this day was the climax of the hog-raising season, trooped down the hill to the slaughter house, started a fire in the stove, and carried water to fill the great iron kettle just outside the slaughter house door. stud began whetting his knives on his butcher's steel, making a sound which cut through sarah's flesh like a blade. he liked to whet knives. and he could not deny it, he liked to slaughter. he had the finest butchering equipment of any farmer on lake koshkonong. sticking, boning, and skinning knives in their rack--the steel blades and brass studs in the rosewood handles gleaming in the lantern light; the biggest butchering kettle in the township; the best pair of hand-wrought gambrels, hung from the finest reel on the strongest hickory axle. some farmers still carried away the blood in buckets, but brailsford had built himself a slanting trough. his heavy cleavers with their hickory handles, his meat saws, hog hooks, scrapers, chopping block and sausage machine were the best that money could buy. as always, sarah felt an agony which she would not show. she could not understand that quality in stanley which made him enjoy killing,--enjoy going out at night to knock the sparrows out of their nests in the straw to wring the necks of the drowsy, blinded birds. at haying time, too, he was careless of the rabbits and half-grown quail as he drove his mower through the timothy and clover. sometimes when she lay beside him at night she thought of his god-like power to give life and to take it away. sarah's job on the farm was to feed, nurse and tenderly raise. she supposed that stud must kill. and yet it frightened her to think that she and her family were no more secure from death than these animals. when the time came god would take them all as easily and with as little ceremony. "go get the hogs," stud shouted to gus. "and, early ann, you start the fire under the kettle." out of their warm hog house the pigs and sows were driven by the hired man's boots. they were herded across the pig yard, littered with thousands of corn cobs from the tons of corn they had eaten. they went in a complaining, squealing drove past the soul-satisfying mudholes (now frozen) where they had wallowed during the summer. they grunted and clambered over one another as they were shunted into the slaughter house. early ann, meanwhile, was starting the great fire of hickory and oak under the black iron kettle mounted on its tripod. the red and yellow flames licked up around the kettle, made a scene in the darkness which might have accompanied an early witchburning on the wind-swept new england shore. sarah was singing a hymn as she cleaned the sausage machine: "_sweet the sabbath morning, cool and bright returning...._" then: "_the lovely spring has come at last; the rain is o'er, the winter past...._" "bring them on," cried stud. he stripped off his mittens, picked up the big sledge, spit on his hands and rubbed them on the smooth, yellow hickory handle. he tested his strength with a couple of preparatory swings, striking the sledge against the base of the twelve-by-twelve hickory upright in the center of the building. his blows shook the roof. "send me a big one, gus." the squealing of the pigs had by this time become terrific. the crackle of the flames in the fire under the kettle, the thud of stanley's sledge, the shouts of gus herding the pigs, the sweet, clear notes of sarah's singing filled the great, old building. "send me a big one, gus. we'd better get going. it's lighting up in the east." just as the edge of the sun appeared, sparkling like red fire across five miles of frozen lake, gus lifted the narrow sliding door and booted a sow through the opening. "crack, crack" went the big sledge on the sow's skull. the pigs screamed and plunged about in their pens. quickly, now, they hooked the gambrels through the tenons of her hind legs, heaved and sweat on the big pulley, lifted the sow clear of the floor and snubbed the rope around a post. stud reached for his sticking knife, slit the sow's throat; the blood poured into the trough beneath. there were horrid sounds of breath gurgling through the slit throat. all day they labored. they slaughtered six hogs and two young steers, cleaned sausage casings, ground and stuffed sausage, coiled it in tubs carefully. they scalded pigs and scraped them white and smooth, then hung them up to freeze. they set aside a pail of blood for blood pudding and blood gravy. stud sweat like a draft horse despite the chill of the building. his big muscles worked like fine, heavy machinery. he was as happy as a lark until they drove ulysses s. grant into the slaughtering pen. then his heart misgave him. ulysses, whom he had raised and tended so carefully. ulysses whom he had displayed so proudly at fair after fair. the great boar whom he loved and hated, pampered and fought. but it could not be helped. his breeding days were over. he was fierce and dangerous. a menace to have about the farm. ulysses jr. would have to take his place. the boar's eyes gleamed wickedly as he stood with feet apart, waiting. he smelled the blood, but he did not scream. he was ready for his last fight and unafraid. stud trembled as he spit on his hands and picked up the heavy mall. "let him come, gus. get out of the way, girls." he raised the sledge high above his head and brought it down with every ounce of his strength squarely between the animal's eyes. then he dropped the sledge to the ground and cried like a baby. stud brailsford paced the house like a caged bear. the family was snowbound, and the enforced idleness made the big man restless and moody. for three days the snow had fallen burdening the trees, drifting three feet deep against the parlor windows, making it necessary to light the lamps at two each afternoon. day and night the wind and snow poured in torrents down the rock river valley, lifted in hissing spirals to strike against the house. stud had tried reading. he had mended and oiled harness, shucked corn, shoveled snow for hours every day. he had played a dozen games of checkers with the hired man. still he was restless. coming upon early ann in the back pantry he pulled her roughly to him and kissed her full on the mouth. she broke away but she did not cry out. she looked at him bewildered, hurt, and tearful. stud was ashamed. he hung his head and went through into the kitchen where sarah helped him off with his boots and put on his slippers. he knew now what was troubling him. he lay on the sofa with his eyes closed, pretending to sleep, but in reality thinking of early ann. what a picture the girl was, her eyes bright and cheeks glowing! stud liked to watch her churning the cream (which they could not deliver because of the blizzard). he liked to watch her poring over the geography book to learn the state capitals and the principal rivers of the united states. her fingers flew deftly as she tatted a yoke for a fancy nightgown. stud wished he were still in his twenties. as stud lay brooding on the sofa, gus burst in with the exciting news that the mailman had broken through and had brought the new mail-order catalogue. nothing short of this miracle could have brightened the sad day for stanley. the new sears roebuck catalogue! it was a gala event. let the snow drift, stars fall, or nations vanish. the brailsfords did not care. they gathered around stud who hastily tore the wrapping from "the farmer's bible" and opened it on the kitchen table. stanley, as always, turned to the buggies, wagons and harnesses. he had a ford, it was true, but his first love had been the buggy. he sighed deeply as he viewed the spanking new surreys, phaëtons, runabouts, concords and buckboards. he especially coveted buggy number r , a veritable dream in buggy manufacture illustrated in full color. this swank creation, which the catalogue disclosed had been especially designed for eastern customers, had drop axles, green cloth cushions, triple-braced shaft, and flashing red wheels. even as steamboat captains must sometimes dream of smart clipper ships, so stud brailsford, owner of a ford, exclaimed aloud over this beautiful mail order buggy-- model. he decided that his stallion, who had recently had a touch of colic, needed more exercise, and within ten minutes had filled out an order for a skeleton road cart of sturdy design. he lingered over the new cream separators, bright red gasoline engines, ornamental fences, milk cans, lanterns, and one of the most inspiring manure spreaders which ever spread manure. the catalogue was epochal in the life of this big farmer. when sarah and early ann were given a chance to look between the covers they devoured the sections on clothes, jewelry, silverware and kitchen equipment. with dreaming eyes they caressed the lavallières engraved with roses, doves, and hearts; the real diamond rings flashing blue fire; the parisian toilet sets elaborately hand-painted, monogrammed, and including two sizes of what were politely known as combinets. perfumes, soaps, conch shells, and "high-class, hand-painted pictures inset with mother-of-pearl" transported them to fairy land. their senses starved with drab reality, they viewed with hungry eyes hats dangling red cherries, grapes, stuffed birds and ostrich plumes. they lusted for the dainty nightgowns, embroidered underwear, stylish coats and dresses, rococo silver, and exotic wall paper they might never own. "i sure do wish i had one of them blue enamel coal-oil stoves," said sarah. "it'd be a real blessing in hot weather." "i'll make out the order right now," stanley said, remembering guiltily how he had kissed early ann in the back pantry. "you're too good to me, stanley, i don't deserve it." early ann said she was going to buy herself a pair of navy blue high-button velvet shoes with flexible cushion soles. they could be had for two dollars and twenty-five cents, only a quarter more than it would cost to buy a sensible pair. "and i'm going to get the family a sugarbowl-with-teaspoon-rack for the center of the table, and some new sheet music for the organ." "you save your money, young lady," stanley warned. personally gus wished he had a bulldog so that he might buy dog collar r , ablaze with brass and imitation topaz. then with a college-shaped meerschaum pipe, a cane, a green suit and yellow gloves he would go calling upon the new school teacher. if that didn't impress her he didn't know what would. when no one else was around he hastily turned to the section displaying corsets and women's underwear. he had never seen anything like it. montgomery ward's didn't have half as many big, blooming girls in lace-trimmed drawers, union suits, princess slips, corsets, and corset covers. he had never seen so many stylish stouts with blossoming cheeks and magnificent buttocks. the moment he dared he would carefully cut out whole pages of those colorful girls, particularly the smiling matron whose union suit was described as "snug fitting with flaring umbrella bottom." "gee," said gus, "i'd like to have one of everything in this catalogue." life could be lived in those days, as it can now, without stepping off the farm for so much as a length of ribbon. you could "laugh yourself to death" for fourteen cents by perusing "on a slow train through arkansas," "through new hampshire on a buckboard," or "i'm from texas, you can't steer me." you could buy--and still can--hay forks, wilton carpets adorned with large red roses, slide trombones, butter paddles, post card albums, cylinder records, or magic lanterns for a relatively trifling sum. and never before in the history of civilization was seen such a display of hammocks, guns, cuckoo clocks, home remedies, feather dusters, folding tubs, bust forms, pacifiers, bed pans, trusses, windmills, lard presses, hornless talking machines and morris chairs. ben hur's famous chariot race enlivened a full page in color, while the devout could purchase the bible for as little as sixty-three cents. they did not care if the storm was raging outside. they did not care that they were snowbound. they were living in the romantic world of the mail order catalogue where they were all as rich as kings, where every woman wore a beautiful new dress and every man was handsome and stylish, where there were bonbons and books and beautiful buggies. "well, now that we've got the new catalogue, we know where we can put the old one," said gus, winking at stud. sarah blushed and early ann giggled. on the stairs that night, stanley again caught early ann and kissed her. the girl fought silently but furiously to free herself, and it was during the struggle that sarah came upon them. stud's wife was suddenly overborne with her age, her fragility, and her helplessness. for a moment she was jealous, angry with them both, and bitter. the following moment she was thinking of stanley and wondering if he weren't entitled to be faithless just once in his life. sarah felt that she would be the last person in the world to keep another from happiness. then she remembered early ann, and she was afraid for the girl as though she had been her own daughter. heartsick, frightened, but determined to face the issue; lost, bewildered, so in love with stanley that it hurt her in the pit of her stomach,--sarah, in that long moment before she spoke experienced half a life-time of sorrow, and the despair of millions of women of her age, standing in lamplight on the worn stairs, looking a little older. "you might at least think of early ann," she said. chapter xiv shortly after midnight peter was awakened with lantern light in his eyes, and he sprang out of bed, smelling the fog and knowing that case weather had come. he stumbled into his overalls and followed his father and gus down the stairs and out into the yard where vern barton, dutchy bloom and others were waiting. the fog was so thick that a man might have lost his way in his own barnyard. the lanterns looked like fox fire at twenty feet. stud led the way and the others followed, indian file, down the slushy lane to the tobacco sheds. the mist, which had rolled northward flooding the valley from hilltop to hilltop, enveloped them in a thick, white blanket, muffled their footsteps, and drowned their voices with its weight of silence. once when the fog lifted momentarily peter could see lights at other farm houses, other lanterns moving, the whole countryside astir. stud rolled back the doors of the tobacco shed on creaking rollers and the men flowed in through the wide, dark opening, went up among the beams, began methodically and rapidly to lower the heavily-laden laths of tobacco to the men below who piled them log-cabin fashion on the dirt floor. not a moment could be lost. tobacco leaves which had been as brittle as spun glass five hours before were now as pliable as brown satin. before a cold wind could lift the fog, again freezing the leaves, the men must pile and protect tons of tobacco. later it would be stripped from the stalk, bundled and hauled to the warehouses of the tobacco buyers in brailsford junction. there was a breath of false spring in the air. the huge shadows cast by the men sprang up the walls and fell noiselessly. and peter, surefooted as a cat among the beams, was jousting with shadows while he worked. would he come back to the farm if this ten day layoff were extended, or would he catch a train for chicago? where would he forget maxine the more easily? where would he find happiness again? on this night of fog, smelling of oak woods, of thawing earth and maple sap; surrounded by men he had known since childhood; watching his father moving gigantically in lantern light, he wrestled with his problems. what if the "trailer" shut down for good as it easily might? would he come back to this farm where his father and grandfather had labored before him, inherit these woods and fields, and marshes? hunt ducks in the fall, plow the land in the spring, help at the birthing of calves and lambs and foals? he would introduce new machinery, build a new house, perhaps, high on one of the hills. almost he was resigned to the idea. he thought his fate could have been worse. shortly before dawn, early ann came with black coffee and thick sausage sandwiches and slabs of buttered coffee cake. the men ate greedily after the hard night's work. they paid crude compliments to the girl who stood with graniteware coffeepot waiting to refill their cups. early ann had brought something special for peter. when none of the others were looking she slipped a little white hickorynut cake with white frosting into peter's dirty hand. "you take the first bite," he said, holding the cake to her lips. * * * * * when his ten days were up peter almost wished that he did not have to go back to the factory again. he had been tinkering around with the thrashing machine, oiling the parts and tightening a nut here and there. he hoped that he might be thrashing boss again next summer. "you might at least think of early ann," stud's wife had said. he _had_ thought of her until his spirit was tired, argued the problem with himself, tossed in his sleep. now he was almost happy to have another grievance to occupy his mind. momentarily early ann was forgotten. the percheron had been grained too heavily and had not been given sufficient exercise. what else might be the matter with the great beast, the lord alone knew. "you and me, both!" stud said to the sick stallion. "i wish all i had the matter with me was a belly ache." doc carlyle was out of town, so it was up to brailsford to save the horse,--no easy task. teddy roosevelt's head drooped almost to the floor; his big, shining barrel was blown, and his eyes were dull and lifeless. as stanley and gus stood watching the unfortunate animal he suddenly jerked up his head, pawed the floor, and tried to climb into the manger with his front feet. "poor old bastard," said gus. "run get the pig bladder and elder shoot," stanley said. "i'll fix some turpentine and linseed oil." the turpentine made the stallion frantic. he broke into a cold sweat, plunged around and around his pen, threw himself down with a crash, rolled over and got up again, dashed headlong into the planks of his stall, stood on his hind legs pawing the air wildly, screamed and foamed at the mouth, fell to the floor--his gigantic muscles contracting spasmodically under his gleaming black hide. there was a mad, frightened light in his eyes. "it'd be like losing a member of the family," gus said. "we've got to save him," brailsford cried. "get sarah to put over a boiler of water. and bring the cayenne pepper and baking soda and barbadoes aloes off the medicine shelf." all night stanley brailsford worked over the percheron, carried steaming blankets to cover the heaving body, forced whiskey down the terrified animal's throat, tried to soothe the brute by petting him and talking to him as he would a sick child. he fixed himself a bed on the feed box and tried to snatch a few winks of sleep. shortly after midnight a cold wind made the lantern flicker. stud brailsford looked up to see early ann with coffee pot and sandwiches. "i couldn't sleep," she said. "how's the stallion?" "ain't kicking around so bad." early ann gazed thoughtfully at the horse for several moments. "probably stomach staggers," she said. "how'd you know?" "i've taken care of 'em before." the man wolfed his sandwiches and drank his scalding black coffee. early ann went into the stall, dropped to her knees beside the stallion and began to pet his quivering shoulder. his coat was rumpled and full of straw, his heavy legs listless. the girl got the curry comb and began to curry very gently. she put a gunny-sack over the percheron's head to shade his eyes from the lantern light. "you're quite a hand with a sick stallion." "got to pamper 'em like you do all males." "you'll make a great wife for some lucky farmer." "i'm going to try," the girl said earnestly. "i'm sewing things against the day." "wish i was twenty years younger." "that'd be two years before i was born." they were silent for several minutes, early ann currying the stallion, stanley brooding and munching his sandwiches. once the percheron tried to get to his knees, then sank back wearily in the straw. "you'll be all right," stanley told the big animal. "you ain't going to die. you're a big husky critter that can stand all kinds of belly aches." the girl picked up the coffee pot and started for the door. "wait," the man said. he came quickly to her side and put his arm around her. trembling and frightened she tried to get away. the rasping breath of the stallion, the strange light, and the huge arm around her waist made her feel faint. "i can't," she said. "why not?" "i can't do anything like that to sarah, and to you and me." "no," the man said. "i suppose you can't." after she had gone stud tried to sleep, but could not. mice ventured out into the ring of light and nibbled at kernels of corn. the wind shoved at the door and rattled the black window panes. the animals stirred in their sleep, sighed deeply, dreamed of lush green pastures. at half past three in the morning the stallion had another bad spell, and stud thought he was going to die. he wished that he had a hypodermic needle so that he could puncture the gut at the spot where it had become the most distended. he felt helpless in the face of death. he pleaded with the stallion not to die. strange how big male things could die so easily. they were so strong and fiery and full of life one moment and dead the next. you could breed them to size, color, speed or endurance but you couldn't breed them against death. it made stud brailsford think of his own mortality watching the stallion hour by hour. he wished again that he could leave a dozen boys to propagate his kind. "don't die," he said. "don't die, big fellow." * * * * * all day they tended the stallion, and the next night stanley again insisted upon watching throughout the night. this time early ann brought coffee and sandwiches before the rest of the family went to bed. stanley said nothing but pulled the girl roughly to him. "no, no," she whispered. "don't, mr. brailsford, please. i ain't strong enough to fight you, stanley, please." she began to cry, so he let her go, unharmed. she did not leave immediately, but waited to pour him another cup of coffee. she wondered if he were asking too much, if other girls were so virtuous. she wondered if she should be kind to this unhappy man. but before she could answer these questions they saw the first flames and caught the smell of burning hay. looking back upon that night of wind and gusty rain when the brailsford barn burned like a pile of dry shavings in a forest fire, sarah sometimes wondered what blind impulse had sent her through the smoke and flames to save the twin percheron colts. she thought that perhaps it was her feeling of protection for young things. she couldn't bear to think of the colts being burned. "save yourself, mother," brailsford had cried above the roaring fire, struggling vainly to save the stallion; pleading, whipping and cajoling. at last he left the inert sire, rushed to the box stall of napoleon and led the bull to safety. "help gus with the cows down at the other end," stud shouted to his wife. "i'll get the horses." he went in among the fire-crazed mares and geldings, old work horses who were faithful and quiet in the field but who were now leaping, terrified, wild animals, straining at their halter ropes, pawing the floor, and shying like unbroken yearlings at the thunder of the flames. early ann led the three ponies into the tobacco shed, then ran like the wind to the telephone in the kitchen. "hurry, it's the brailsford barn," she cried. "take the short cut over barton's hill." vern barton, ole oleson and dutchy bloom were carrying water from the stock tanks. sarah and gus were leading out the cows. the big flames ran in sheets up the curving walls of the wooden silo, burst like a volcano through the peaked roof, cracked and thundered like a kettle drum in the half-empty cylinder. the resinous siding of the barn burned like a fire of pine knots, kindling the hand-hewn oak and hickory timbers cut from the forest with axe and adz fifty years before. cows bawled. pigeons and sparrows shot out like flaming rockets and fell into the fields. chickens squawked as they tumbled from the building, ran around in circles like fighting cocks, or flew back crazily into the scorching flames. a mother cat carrying a singed kitten in her mouth stalked out of the barn, her eyes gleaming like green coals. ganders added their hiss to the hiss of the fire, men shouted and women screamed. in the hub-bub that went on about him stud alone kept a clear head. he ordered the men to form a bucket line, sent others for the spray wagon which was used to throw a small stream on the adjoining buildings, rushed in again and again after horses. it was while he was leading out the last, maddened gelding that he was all but caught in the passageway by the rearing, screaming beast. he could hear sarah calling him, beside herself with fear. he could see the flame licking at the edges of the doorway and eating at the lintel. "steady, boy. steady." he patted the nervous shoulder, talked quietly to the frantic animal. slowly the horse subsided, seemed to listen, followed stud in a dash through the door not a moment too soon as the flaming lintel came crashing down behind them. when the fire reached the haymow there was a flare and flash almost like an explosion as the dust and loose hay ignited. all the colors from blue-white to crimson played across the surface of the hay. then the fifty tons of timothy, alfalfa, and clover settled down to a forty-eight hour blaze. flame and smoke sucked and twisted up the hay chutes like dust in a tornado. these blasts cut through the shingled roof like a dozen blow-torches and spurted their yellow pennants skyward. the flames licked and bellied in the wind, belched from the open door of the loft with the hollow intonation of a big gun. "help pull the hayfork down," cried gus. he said in after years that he had intended to fasten barrels of water to the fork, run them down the fork track, and dump them on the flame. before he could attempt the impractical scheme the ropes had burned and the fork had fallen with a crash, imbedding itself in the snow and mud. finally the fire department arrived. the big dapple grays had run four miles dragging the heavy fire engine through the slushy snow. they galloped into the barnyard lathered and panting, the red wheels and brass mountings of their engine flashing in the fire-light, steam and smoke belching from the funnel. "unwind the hose, boys," shouted hank vetter. "where's the water, stud?" "we'll use the tanks and then the cistern," stud roared. "i got the gasoline engine pumping from the well." but all these sources were soon insufficient for the two inch hose through which the fire engine forced its stream. they led the hose to the creek, chopped a hole through the ice, and began to pump from the deep hole beside the mill. the water sprayed upon the burning roof, was shot in through the loft door; hissed into the inferno leaving scarcely a trace. "look out!" cried stud. "there goes the roof!" it fell with a mighty crash throwing embers high into the air, shooting flames seventy-five feet above the barn: blue, yellow, and red against the inky sky; lighting up the countryside from cottonwood hill to charley's bluff. another fire was burning on the frozen lake, the flames pointing downward toward the center of the earth. then the timbers holding up the hay collapsed and half-a-hundred tons of burning grass fell into the stables. the great stallion screamed once and then was still. sarah came over to comfort stud. "we've got each other and most of the stock," she said. "we'll make it somehow, mother. we'll start all over." "i'll go to the house now and fix something for the firemen." "i guess you might as well." hank vetter, chief of the volunteers, left his engine and came over to where stud was listening to the condolences of his neighbors. "how'd it start?" yelled hank. "darned if i know," said stud, scratching his singed head. "i was tending a sick stallion and...." "was you smoking?" asked hank. "never smoked around the barns in my life." "didn't tip over the lantern?" "lantern was hanging from a peg. never touched the lantern." "well, it couldn't have started by itself," said hank. "let's look around." they had taken less than a dozen steps down the lane when a figure started up from behind a stump, jumped the fence, crashed down the hill toward the lake, and began to skirt the bay. "it's joe valentine," shouted early ann. "this is my job," stud cried, dashing after the fleeing figure. hearing shouts, joe valentine decided to risk the shortest way to lake house point. he leaped onto the melting ice and ran and stumbled two hundred yards out from the shore. they saw him clearly in the light of the burning barn as he crashed through into the black water and went down; and although they watched the dark hole in the ice for twenty minutes he did not come up again. book five chapter xv _during the spring of edith cavell was going quietly about her civilian duties of mercy in brussels. a bolshevik agitator by the name of lenin was hiding in galicia sending anonymous articles to russian newspapers. franklin delano roosevelt, assistant secretary of the u.s. navy, attended the ceremonies which began construction of battleship number , "the greatest fighting machine in the universe." villa had the federals on the run south of the rio grande. the veteran joffre deep in plan eyed the aging but wily von moltke across the rhine. aunt martha in her household hints suggested putting ordinary glass marbles in the tea-kettle to keep the lime from gathering._ * * * * * but on the brailsford farm they were building a new barn. for twenty-four hours the brailsfords had been stunned by the loss. they had gone about their duties in a daze. no one had seen sarah crying, but her eyes were rimmed with red, and stanley silently mourned the loss of his big percheron and the jersey heifers. then, while the last charred timbers were still smouldering they turned to the more consoling thought of reconstruction. they would have a magnificent new barn with arching roof and silver ventilators. they would have a barn which would house fifty head of cattle besides the horses, with a hayloft twice the size of the old one. peter came home every week-end to help with the work. he insisted that the barn be piped with drinking water for the cattle, that the steel stanchions and cement floor be of the latest design, and that whole banks of windows replace what had previously been almost windowless stone walls. they worked with frantic haste for soon it would be spring, soon there would be a quarter section to plow and plant. already the ice was breaking, the gulls were screaming overhead; great flights of wild ducks and geese were wedging their way northward. stripped to his shirt sleeves even in the early march winds stud brailsford worked early and late. he helped the carpenters to lift the big four-by-eights and two-by-twelves into their places, drove thirty-penny spikes as though they were finishing nails. he helped to build the forms and pour the cement; wheeled big barrows of sand, gravel and concrete; brought stone-boat loads of hard heads to fill the sloping ramp. saws ripped through clean-smelling wood; hammers rang from dawn until dark; wagonloads of lumber, shingles, barn-equipment and paint came out daily from brailsford junction; and by the twentieth of march the cows and horses were in their new, luxurious home. it took all the insurance money on the old barn and nearly every cent stud brailsford had in the bank. the big man was weary, hard-hit financially, and definitely older. but he looked up proudly at his great new barn and smiled. before stud put a fork of hay in the mow they had a barn dance. corn meal was strewn over the wide pine boards and a four-piece orchestra from brailsford junction was hired for the occasion. the old folks danced the square dances to the squeaking of the fiddle, and stud who had not called the figures in fifteen years called them that night as was his privilege since he owned the barn. neither he nor sarah had gone to a dance in ten years, nevertheless he led her proudly in the grand march and the virginia reel. later the young folks, to the scandalization of their elders, danced the tango and the turkey trot, and they all ended the evening with "home, sweet home" and plenty of apple cider. "i guess we can still kick up our heels," said stanley, escorting his wife from the barn to the kitchen door. "gee, you sure can rag," early ann told the glowing peter. "maybe i can't dance so good," gus confessed to the new school teacher, "but i know where there's another jug of apple jack." almost before the paint was dry on the barn it was lambing time, and night and day for more than a week the brailsfords helped the bleating ewes and their small dependents, warmed chilled lambs in the "hospital" at the corner of the shed and gave the weakened mothers encouraging shots of brandy. four times there were twins and once triplets. to stud's dismay one little black lamb made its appearance--a disgrace to his exceptionally pure flock of shropshires. as chance would have it the little black fellow was orphaned and no ewe could be made to adopt it, so early ann raised him a pet on a baby bottle. the great old ram was kept securely locked in his pen through all these proceedings. he looked on indifferently through the bars, his thick white wool glowing and healthy; his massive, wide head, broad shoulders and low-slung chassis the very essence of masculinity. "he's got a leg on each corner," said stanley admiringly, stopping to pet the father of sixty-four new sons and daughters. the pony mare and one of the percherons dropped foals within the next two weeks, and fawn-eyed jersey calves arrived almost daily. at the oleson farm another little swede entered the world. sarah and temperance crandall were on hand to help the midwife, but early ann was strictly forbidden to go near the place until the baby was born, washed, and placed in his hand-carved cradle. the arrival of three small billy goats, and twelve litters of poland china pigs increased the blessed events on the west shore of lake koshkonong to a staggering figure. stud brailsford, deep in the spring plowing, had no time to think of any woman. he bought a brooder and an incubator for sarah, and evenings he went into the cellar to tinker with the new contraptions. in due time flotillas of fluffy ducklings, eight hundred scrambling, peeping chicks, and a dozen long-necked, awkward, yellow-green goslings were in evidence on every hand. one night the orchard was taken in a single onslaught by the rush of spring. the fragrant white billow swept over apple, cherry, plum, and sarah's flowering crab. underneath the laden trees the dandelions bloomed, and the bees came to plunder. once again spring was upon the land. it might have occurred to stanley--but never did--that throughout the spring the boy had seemed curiously devoted to the farm, unwilling to miss a single week-end in the country. it should have seemed strange to brailsford that when the "trailer" went bankrupt in may, peter took the loss of his job so philosophically. but all that stud thought, when he thought about the matter at all, was now his boy was back at last, that he had sown his wild oats and was ready to settle down, and that during the coming season he would make him thrashing boss again. on the morning of june , --the day that gavro princip shot the archduke ferdinand at serajevo--stud brailsford awoke just before dawn. ducks were quacking, geese hissing in the barnyard. roosters were heralding the dawn, answered across the lake by other roosters. a cow bawled at her calf, the wind rustled in the corn. ten miles away a train whistled, and rumbled across the river bridge. to stud's simple mind the world had never seemed more peaceful. the smell of coffee, toast and sausage drifted up from the kitchen. the first streaks of color were showing in the east, reflected on the surface of the lake. stud did not know that europe was an armed camp, that civilization was about to be blown to bits, that wisconsin farm boys, whistling as they went to the barns that morning, would soon be lying in the mud of flanders. stud had never heard of the archduke ferdinand nor of serajevo. you could not have convinced him that a shot fired by a serb in remote bosnia could affect his prosperous dairy farm on crabapple point in the fertile rock river valley of southern wisconsin. it was sunday. peter and gus were already up and doing the chores. stud could lie abed for another half hour if he wished. he could go swimming in the lake, or merely lie in the hammock under the trees, listening to the birds and taking life easy. such indolence was all but unbelievable to the big farmer who for the past three and one-half months had been working sixteen hours a day, laboring evenings and holidays, even breaking god's commandment by plowing on sunday. but at last the crops were planted; the corn was knee-high, and the twenty acres of tobacco were a rich, healthy green. stud yawned, stretched like a big cat, rolled out of bed and donned clean blue shirt and overalls. carrying his shoes and socks in his hand he padded down the stairs, enjoying the feeling of the cool, smooth wood under his bare feet. sarah and early ann were busy over the kitchen stove, the spot where they spent many a sabbath. "sleepy-head," taunted early ann. "chores are most done." for the first time since the burning of the barn stud really noticed the girl. my, she was pretty! after breakfast he saw her take sunbonnet and milkpail and start up the path toward the strawberry patch beyond the hill. ten minutes after she was out of sight, he followed. sarah brailsford guessed where he was going, and why, but she did not raise a finger to stop him. gus gunderson knew by second nature what was up. stud, chewing a stem of timothy, climbed the hill, skirted the orchard, and there he found them. for a moment stanley brailsford was dumbfounded. then a slow smile spread over his face. briefly he stayed to watch early ann and peter sitting on the grassy bank with their arms around each other, looking off across the lake. slowly old brailsford retraced his steps, saying to no one in particular, "grandchildren. ho, ho! i never thought of grandchildren. wonder what it'll be like to be a grandfather?" he was still chuckling when he sat down beside sarah on the front porch. "you know, when peter and early ann get married, i'm going to build them a house on cottonwood hill." "i think that would be real nice," said sarah. "it's the prettiest view in southern wisconsin." "i hope they have a dozen children, mother. i'd like about seven boys and five girls. they'll be blue-ribbon babies if that pair breeds 'em." transcriber's notes -obvious print and punctuation errors fixed. -a table of contents was not in the original work; one has been produced and added by transcriber. distributed proofreading canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net _the spell of the white sturgeon_ jim kjelgaard dodd, mead & company new york copyright, by jim kjelgaard all rights reserved no part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher _library of congress catalog card number: - _ printed in the united states of america by vail-ballou press, inc., binghamton, n. y. to david leclair and richard smith _contents_ _chapter one_ storm _two_ wreck _three_ on the beach _four_ trouble for the _spray_ _five_ rescue _six_ new venture _seven_ partners _eight_ action _nine_ pirates _ten_ the great fish _eleven_ fisherman's luck _twelve_ the pond the characters and situations in this book are wholly fictional and imaginative: they do not portray and are not intended to portray any actual persons or parties. _the spell of the white sturgeon_ chapter one _storm_ ramsay cartou leaned on the rail of the ponderous side-wheeler, the _h. h. holter_, and watched without interest while a horse-drawn truck brought another load of cattle hides on board. the sweating stevedores who were loading the _holter_ and the belaboring mate who supervised them began stowing the hides into the hold. the _holter's_ winch, either ruined by an inexpert operator or about to fall apart anyhow, was broken. all the work had to be done by hand. ramsay turned to breathe the clean air that swept in from lake michigan. it was impossible, anywhere on the _holter_, to get away from the smell of the hides, but at least he did not have to look at them. not since he had left the brawling young city of chicago two days before, to make his way north to the equally lusty young city of milwaukee, had the sun shone. in those two days, while he waited for repairs to the engine hauling the train in which he was riding, he had seen nothing of the lake. now, from the mouth of the river where the _holter_ was anchored, he had a clear view, and it was exciting. the grays of the sky and the grays of the lake were indefinable, with no clear separation. ramsay shivered slightly. the lake was a cat, he thought, a great sinewy cat, and the whitecaps rolling into the harbor were its sheathed and unsheathed claws. it was an awesome thing, but at the same time a wonderful one. a trembling excitement rose within him. the lake was at once a challenge and a promise--a threat and a mighty lure. he stared, fascinated, and tried to trace the rolling course of the waves as they surged toward the bank. it was impossible to follow just one for, as soon as it swelled, it retreated, to lose itself in the immense lake and renew itself in endless forward surges. like recklessly charging soldiers, the waves cast themselves up on the bank and, exhausted, fell back. so absorbed was he in the spectacle and so fascinated by the lake, that for a moment he was unaware of the man beside him or of the words he spoke. then a rough hand grasped his shoulder and, reacting instantly, ramsay whirled around. "why ain't you at work with the rest, boy?" "take your hand off me!" the man who stood beside him was oddly like a rock, a great granite boulder. two inches taller than ramsay's six feet, he had a barrel chest and long, powerful arms. a leather jacket, with the sleeves cut off, hung loosely on his upper body, and beneath it he wore a homespun shirt. his black trousers had been fashioned by an exacting tailor but sadly misused. they were torn and patched with anything that might have been at hand. black hair straggled from beneath his crushed black hat and the hair needed cutting. his eyes, colorless, were oddly inanimate, like two glass balls with no special warmth or feeling. a black beard sprouted from his cheeks and half-hid his face, but the beard did not hide thick, coarse lips. he repeated, "them hides got to be loaded! get to work!" "load them yourself!" "i'll give you a lesson you won't forget, boy!" "do that!" ramsay tensed, awaiting the anticipated attack of the bigger, heavier man. he felt almost a grim pleasure. he had learned his fighting the hard way, as anybody brought up on the new york water-front, and with an irresponsible father had to learn it. the man who faced him was heavier by a good sixty pounds, but he was a bull of a man and, probably, he would fight like a bull. would he know about matadors? the man's eyes were narrowed to pinpoints, and they seemed to spark. sheer rage made his face livid, while his lips were distorted in a snarl. he drew back, readying himself for the spring that would overwhelm this brash youth who had dared dispute him. ramsay poised on lithe feet, prepared to side-step. then fat, fussy little captain schultz, skipper of the _holter_, stepped between them. he wheezed like an over-fat lap-dog, "vot you doin'?" "i want them hides loaded and the ship under way!" the man who faced ramsay snarled. "ach! dis man payin' passenger!" a deck hand, his eyes downcast, hurried past. the man who had ordered ramsay to get to work stood still for a moment, glaring. then, furiously, soundlessly, he turned on his heel and strode up the gangplank to the pier. ramsay watched him go, and he knew that, even if there had not been unpleasantness between them, he could never like this man. no matter where they met, or how, they would never get along together. captain schultz also turned to watch the man depart. then he gave his attention to ramsay. "ach! you should be careful 'pout startin' fights, poy." "so should other people!" ramsay said, still smarting. "you should, too. yaah!" and, as though he had settled that once and for all, captain schultz waddled away to speak to the mate who was supervising the stevedores. a little uncertainty arose in ramsay. this--this half-wilderness, half-civilization in which he found himself was a land of strong contradictions. lake michigan, with all its fear and all its terror, and all its inspiration, lapped the wisconsin shores. yet some man could be so little impressed by the vast lake that he could name a boat for himself. possibly a man capable of building or owning a ship like the _holter_ had a right to think of himself. ramsay turned again to look at the lake, and his mind projected him far away from the worn, slippery decks of the _holter_. almost he was unaware of the two silver dollars in his pocket, all the money he had left in the world, and of the uncertain future. at the same time, while his inmost being feasted on the lake, a part of his mind reviewed the events that had brought him here. he had an abrupt, uncomfortable revival of a new york memory. there was a lion, a great, black-maned lion, in the new york zoo. it was well fed and well cared for, its every need attended. but most times the lion had still seemed restless and unhappy, and sometimes it had been a tired thing. then it was hardly a lion at all but just a weary, living thing. ramsay had wondered often how that lion felt. he had never decided exactly how it did feel; within himself there were a dozen conflicting opinions. the lion paced its cage, and coming to the end of the very narrow limits granted to it, it turned and went back the other way. coming to the end of the cage, it turned again. but all it ever found was the place it had already left. once in a great while the lion had been very alert and very attentive. it was as though, now and again, the great animal could scent a wind of which nothing else was aware. that wind brought him memories of freedom, and happiness and the unhampered jungle life that had been. ramsay had gone often to see the lion, and though he never understood why, he always felt as though he had something in common with it, and he understood it partially. new york offered an abundance of opportunities, but they were well bound and well defined. there had always been a wild longing, a reckless yearning, within him, and often he thought that the newspapers which carried stories of the undeveloped midwest were to him what the faint jungle scents had been to the lion. he had devoured every story eagerly. the midwest was new, the papers had said. good farm land, if one wanted to be a farmer, could be had for as little as four dollars an acre. it was the land of the future. again ramsay jingled the two dollars in his pocket. he had answered the call of the midwest because he could not help answering it. he had to try and to go and see for himself, but at the same time a caution, inborn in his scotch mother and transplanted to him, could not be ignored. before he burned his bridges behind him he had wanted to make sure that there were some ahead, and correspondence with the manager of the three points tannery had led to the offer of a job when he came. a dollar and twenty-five cents a day the tannery was offering able-bodied men, and there were too few men. ramsay looked out upon the lake, and a little thrill of excitement swept through him. sometimes he had felt doubts about the wisdom of having left new york for the midwest. he had been sure of a place to sleep and enough to eat as long as he stayed in new york, and again he felt the two dollars in his pocket. troubled, he looked out on the surging lake, and knew an instant peace. it was worth seeing. it was something few new yorkers ever saw. the ocean was at their doorstep, and few of them even bothered looking at that; but the ocean was not like this. lake michigan was fresh and clean, different, wild and, as the papers had promised, new. ramsay tasted the wet air, liking it as he did so. he turned at a sudden squealing and clatter on the pier, and saw four men trying to fight a little black horse onto the ship. the horse, not trusting this strange craft and certainly not liking it, lashed out with striking hooves. dodging, the men finally fought it into a sort of small cage they had prepared. the horse thrust its head over the side and bugled shrilly. ramsay watched interestedly, distracted for the few minutes the men needed to get the horse into its cage. it reared as though it would climb over the confining bars, then stood quietly. a sensible horse, ramsay decided, and a good one. only fools, whether they were animals or men, fought when there was no chance of winning or battered their brains out against a stone wall. good animals and good men never considered anything hopeless, but they tried to fight with intelligence as well as brawn. ramsay glanced again at the horse. it was standing quietly but not resignedly. its head was up. its ears were alert and its eyes bright. it still did not like the ship, but it had not just given in. rather, it was waiting a good chance to get away. ramsay grinned. the next time, he decided, they would have a little more trouble getting that horse onto anything that floated. then he returned his attention to the loading of the _holter_. a continuous line of horse-drawn trucks loaded with hides was coming alongside the ship, and the stevedores were laboring mightily to stow the hides away. obviously whoever owned the _holter_ intended to load her with every last pound she would carry. he wanted a paying cargo that would pay off to the last cent. almost imperceptibly the ship settled into the water. the gangplank, that had been almost even with the deck, now tilted downward. once or twice ramsay saw the bearded, jacketed man with whom he had quarreled. but the man did not venture onto the _holter_ again. rather, he seemed more interested in getting the hides loaded. ramsay speculated on the scene he was witnessing, and then he found the whys and wherefores, the reasons behind it. this wisconsin country was still more than half a wilderness. it had its full share of wilderness men, but its fertile farm lands were attracting many dutch, swiss and german farmers. struggling with a half-tamed country, they did anything they could to earn a livelihood, and some of them raised beef cattle. the hides were a by-product and the world markets needed leather. but the leather could not be processed without necessary materials, and the hemlock trees which provided tan bark were being cut at three points. it was cheaper, and easier, to transport the hides to three points than it was to carry the cumbersome tan bark to milwaukee or chicago. from three points, harness leather, sole leather and almost every other kind, was shipped by boat to chicago and from there it was carried to the eastern markets by rail. * * * * * it was not until mid-afternoon that the last of the hides were loaded and the hatches battened down. the side wheel began to turn and the _holter_ moved cumbersomely down the river into lake michigan. standing in his enclosure, the little horse stamped restlessly and neighed again. he was nervous, but he was not afraid. ramsay approved. the little black horse didn't like his cage, but he would meet the situation as it existed rather than lose his head or become panic-stricken. ramsay walked over to the cage and the horse thrust his velvet muzzle against the bars. when the boy rubbed his nose, the horse twitched his ears and looked at him with friendly eyes. thick smoke belched from the _holter's_ stack and made a long plume over the lake, behind the plodding side-wheeler. a strong wind was screaming in from the north and lashing the water angrily into leaping waves. the ship nosed into the trough created by the waves and rose again on the opposite side. ramsay walked to the bow and leaned over the rail, and a mighty excitement rose anew within him. this, it seemed, was what he had wanted to find when he left new york to go roving. the lake, storm-lashed, was a wild and terrible thing. it was a beast, but something with a vast appeal lay behind its fury and its anger. lake michigan was the place for a man. it would never be free of challenge if there was anyone who dared to pick up the gauntlet it cast. there was motion beside ramsay, and the deck hand who had passed while he argued with the bearded man fell in beside him. he glanced at the man. the deck hand was about thirty-six, older than ramsay by eighteen years, and there was a seasoned, weather-beaten look about him. it was as though he had turned his face to many a raging storm and many a fierce wind. he grinned amiably. "hi!" "hi!" ramsay said. the deck hand chuckled. "boy, i thought you were in trouble sure when you were ruckusin' with old devil chad." "devil chad?" "yeah. the one who told you to help load hides. he'd of cleaned the deck with you." "maybe he would," ramsay said. "and then again, maybe he wouldn't." "he would," the deck hand asserted. "he can lick anybody or anything. owns half the country 'round here, he does, includin' most of the _holter_. what's more, he aims to keep it. one of the richest men in wisconsin." "quite a man," ramsay said drily. "yeah, an' quite a fighter. on'y reason he didn't clean your clock was on account captain schultz told him you was a payin' passenger. devil chad, he gets half the fare every passenger on the _holter_ pays, he does." ramsay knew a rising irritation. "what makes you so sure he can't be cut down to size?" "never has been, never will be," the deck hand asserted. he regarded the surging lake morosely, and then said, "one of these days this old tub is goin' to end up right at the bottom of michigan, it is. either that or on the beach. wish i was some'res else." "why don't you go somewhere else?" "one of these days i will," the deck hand threatened. "i'll just haul off an' go back to the ocean boats, i will. i was on 'em for fourteen years, an' quit to come here on account i got scar't of storms at sea. ha! worstest thing i ever see on the atlantic ain't nothin' to what this lake can throw at you." "is it really that bad?" ramsay asked eagerly. "bad?" the deck hand said. "boy, i've seen waves here taller'n a ship. in course nobody ever goes out when it's that bad on account, if they did, nobody'd ever get back." he scanned the horizon. "we're goin' to hit weather afore we ever gets to three points. goin' to hit it sure. wish this old tub wasn't loaded so heavy, an' with hides at that." a wave struck the bow, crested and broke in foaming spray that cast itself up and over the ship. ramsay felt it, cool on his face, and he licked eager lips. lake michigan was fresh water, not salt like the ocean, and it was as pure as an ice-cold artesian well. it was also, he thought, almost as cold. he looked into the clouded horizon, studying the storm that battered the _holter_. he smiled to himself. suddenly he became all eager interest, peering out into the driving waves and focusing his attention on one place. he thought he had seen something there, but because of the angry lake he could not be sure. it might have been just a drifting shadow, or just one more of the dark waves which seemed to fill the lake and to be of all shades. then, and plainly, he saw it again. it was a boat, a little boat no more than twenty-four feet from bowsprit to stern, and it was carrying almost a full load of sail as it tacked back and forth into the wind. ramsay had not seen the sails because, when he first spotted the boat, it had been heeled over so far that the sails did not show. now they were showing and full, and the little boat sailed like a proud swan with its wings spread. ramsay forgot the _holter_, the man beside him and everything else save the little boat. the _holter_ and nothing on it, with the possible exception of the little black horse, was even remotely interesting. but this was. ramsay breathed a sigh of relief. he should have known. he should have understood from the first that, when any water was as mighty and as exciting as lake michigan, there would be some to meet its challenge with daring, grace and spirit. the tiny craft was a mere cockleshell of a boat, a ridiculously small thing with which to venture upon such a water, but ramsay could not help feeling that it would be much better to sail on the little boat than on the _holter_. he kept fascinated eyes on it as it tacked back into the wind. again it heeled over, so far that it was almost hidden in the trough of a vast wave. saucily, jauntily it bobbed up again. the _holter_, that workhorse of the water, plodded stolidly on its appointed way. ramsay continued to watch the little boat, and now they were near enough so that he could see its crew of four. he gasped involuntarily. working into the wind, the little boat was coming back, and its course took it directly across the _holter's_ right of way. ramsay clenched his fingers and bit his lip fiercely. a collision seemed inevitable. wide-eyed, he watched the little boat. now he saw its name, not painted on with stencils but written in a fine, free-flowing script, _spray_, and the carved valkyrie maiden that was its figurehead. a big gull, obviously its tame one, sat on the very top of the mast and flapped its wings. the _spray_ had a crew of four, but ramsay concentrated on just one of them. he was huge, fully as tall as the black beard who had accosted ramsay and just as heavy, but he was a different kind of man. he balanced on his little boat's swaying deck with all the grace of a dancer, while he clung almost carelessly to a line that ran through a pulley. no inch of the man's shirt and trousers, which were all the clothing he wore, for he was bare-footed, remained dry, and the shaggy blond curls that carpeted his head were dripping. white teeth gleamed as he looked up at the _holter_ and laughed. ramsay leaned forward excitedly. he warmed to this man, even as he had been repelled by the black beard the deck hand called devil chad. the man on the boat was gay and spirited, and he seemed complete master of everything about him. the deck hand put cupped hands to his mouth and screamed, "sheer off! sheer off!" captain schultz's voice was heard. "_dumkopf!_ go 'way!" then, just as it seemed that collision could not be avoided, more sail bloomed on the _spray's_ mast and she danced lightly out of the way. the man with the shaggy curls looked back and waved a taunting hand. ramsay turned to watch, but the _spray_ disappeared in a curtain of mist that had draped itself between the _holter_ and the shore. his eyes shining, the boy turned to the deck hand. "who was that?" "a crazy dutch fisherman, named hans van doorst," the deck hand growled. "he'd sail that peanut shell right in to see old nick hisself, an' one of these days he will. he ain't even afraid of the white sturgeon." "what's the white sturgeon?" the deck hand looked at him queerly. "how long you been here, boy?" "a couple of days." "well, that accounts for it. you see the white sturgeon; you start prayin' right after. you'll need to. nobody except that crazy van doorst has ever saw him an' lived to tell about it. well, got to get to work." the deck hand wandered away. ramsay turned again to face the storm and let spray blow into his face. he thought of all that had happened since he had, at last, reached lake michigan. this wisconsin country was indeed a land of sharp contrasts. the _holter_ and the _spray_. captain schultz and the deck hand. devil chad and hans van doorst. a tannery and a fisherman. local superstition about a white sturgeon. ramsay knew a rising satisfaction. this semi-wilderness, lapped by a vast inland sea, might be a strange land, but nobody could say that it was not an interesting or a strong one. his last lingering doubts were set at rest and for the first time he was entirely satisfied because he had come. a strong country was always the place for strong people. ramsay raised his head, puzzled by something which, suddenly, seemed to be out of place. for a second he did not know what it was. then he realized that the crying gulls which had been following the _holter_ in the hope that scraps or garbage would be tossed to them or else interested in whatever debris the side wheel might churn up, were no longer there. ramsay knew a second's uneasiness, and he could not explain it. he did not know why he missed the gulls. it was just that they and their crying had seemed a part of the lake. now that they were gone, the lake was incomplete. the boy braced himself against a sudden, vicious burst of wind. even a land-lubber could tell that the storm's fury was increasing. a sharp patter of rain sliced like a shower of cold knives across the _holter's_ deck, and ramsay ducked his head. he raised it again, grinning sheepishly as he did so, then gripped the rail to steady himself. he watched with much interest as the storm raged even more strongly. it was driving directly out of the northwest, and it seemed to be perpetually re-born in the dark clouds that had possession of the sky. a howling wind accompanied it, and more shrapnel-bursts of rain. the waves rose to prodigious heights. dipping into them, the _holter_ seemed no more than a leaf on this tossing sea. turning, ramsay saw the helmsman clinging almost fiercely to his wheel, as though he would somehow soften the storm's rage by doing that. in his cage the little black horse nickered uncertainly. then there came something that was instantly apparent, even above the screaming wind. the rough rhythm of the _holter's_ throbbing engines seemed to halt. the ship shivered mightily, as though in pain. the engines stopped. chapter two _wreck_ shorn of her power, the _holter_ still followed her helmsman's course. but it became a listless, sluggish course. the ship was like a suddenly freed slave that does not know what to do with his own freedom. for six years she had plodded lake michigan, always with the biggest possible paying load and always working at top speed. many times she had groaned and protested, but she had been forced to obey the dictates of the engine that turned her side wheel. now the engine, the tyrant, was dead from misuse of its own power. but without it the _holter_ had neither mind nor will of her own. she smashed head-on into a mountainous wave that set her decks awash. for another moment or two she held her course, carried by her own momentum. then, slowly and unwillingly, as though afraid to do such a thing and not trusting herself to do it, she swung broadside to the waves. a muffled shout floated out of the engine room. fat little captain schultz, a slicker covering his round body and anxiety written on his face, was peering down an opened hatch. sluicing rain pelted the slicker and bounded off. ramsay's eyes found the deck hand. eyes wide and mouth agape, he was standing near the wheelhouse. naked terror was written on his face as he stared at something out in the lake. ramsay followed his gaze. to the starboard, the right side of the _holter_, the lake seemed strangely calm. it was as though the wind and the storm did not strike with outrageous strength there, and oddly as if that part of the water might be commanded by some inexplicable force. unable to tear his gaze away, expecting to see something special, ramsay kept his eyes riveted on the calm water. he saw a ripple, but not one born of storm and wind. there was something here that had nothing to do with the driving wind, or the cold rain, or even the tremendous waves. the deck hand covered his eyes with his hand. at that instant, a great white apparition swam up through the water. it was a ghost, a creature of nightmares, a terrible thing seen only in terror-ridden moments. ramsay controlled an impulse to shout or to flee. the thing came up to within inches of the surface and wallowed there like a greasy fat hog. whitish-gray, rather than pure white, it flipped an enormous tail while it sported near the surface. the thing, a fish, seemed fully nine feet long and possibly it carried a hundred pounds of weight for every foot. it bore no scales but seemed to be clothed in an overlapping series of armored plates. its snout, pointed somewhat like a pig's, was tipped with barbels, or feelers. dull eyes showed. again ramsay controlled his fear. the thing, sober judgment told him, was nothing more or less than a great sturgeon, the mightiest fish of these inland waters. the fact that it was white, rather than the conventional gray-green or olive-green, was of no significance whatever. all living creatures, from elephants down to mice, occasionally produced an albino. it was not beyond reason that there could be an albino sturgeon. ramsay watched while it swam, and some semblance of cool control returned to his fevered imagination. this was no grotesque monster from another world. telling himself again that it was nothing more or less than an unusual fish, he watched it sink back into the churning depths from which it had arisen. he put a shaking hand on the _holter's_ rail. it was a fish and nothing else. none but superstitious people believed in superstition. then the deck hand's terrified shriek rose above the keening wind. "it's him! we seen it! the white sturgeon! _gar-hhh!_" mouth agape, the deck hand kept his eyes on that place where the white sturgeon had disappeared. a great wave washed across the deck, and when it rolled away the deck hand was no longer visible. ramsay shook his head to clear it and looked again at the place where the deck hand had been standing. lake michigan could swallow a man even easier than a pond swallowed a pebble, for there had not been even a ripple to mark the place where the deck hand had disappeared. there was not the slightest possibility of rescuing him. the deck hand had seen the white sturgeon! a battering ram of a wave crashed into the _holter's_ starboard side, and ramsay felt a cold chill travel up and down his spine. fear laid its icy fingers there, but he shook them off. the fact that the water had been calm when the white sturgeon made its appearance and was angry now had nothing whatever to do with the fish. rather, the calm water could be attributed to some quirk, some phenomenon inherent in the storm itself. probably the white sturgeon appeared because, for the moment, the lake had been calm. knowing that, the big fish had nosed its way to the surface. now that the lake was again storm-deviled, the white sturgeon was gone. bracing himself against the wind, ramsay made his way across the deck to the wheelhouse. he shivered, for the first time aware of the fact that his clothing was rain-drenched and that he was very cold. it was a penetrating, creeping cold that reached the inmost marrow of his bones. when another wave smashed the _holter_, ramsay caught hold of the little horse's cage to steady himself. within the enclosure, nervous but still not terrified, the black horse looked hopefully at him. ramsay reached the wheelhouse, and came face to face with captain schultz. the little captain's slicker had blown open, so that now it was of no use whatever in warding off the rain, but he had not seen fit to close it again. it would do him no good if he did; his clothing was already soaked. ramsay shouted to make himself heard above the roar of the wind. "what happened?" "the enchin, she kaput. like that, she kaput." ramsay revised his opinions of the little captain. at the pier, captain schultz had been only a fat, fussy little man. facing this dire predicament, he was not terrified and had not given way to panic. he had risen to the emergency. maybe, ramsay thought, anyone who sailed lake michigan had to be able to rise to any emergency if he would continue to sail. he shouted again, "will the ship sink?" "ach, i don't know! if we can't get the enchin to go, she might." "what do we do then?" "find somet'ing. find anyt'ing, poy, an' swim. be sure you find somet'ing that does not sink mit you." "how far are we from land?" "ach! that i cannot tell you." "did you see the white sturgeon?" "yaah. we still try." captain schultz went all the way into the wheelhouse and disappeared into the hold. dimly, out of the open hatchway, came the sound of ringing hammers. there was a desperate tone in them, as though the men working in the _holter's_ hold were fully aware of the grave danger they faced. on sudden impulse ramsay ducked into the wheelhouse and descended into the engine-room. captain schultz held an oil lamp to illumine the labors of two men whom, so far, ramsay had not seen. presumably they were the _holter's_ engineer and fireman. another deck hand and the mate stood by, passing tools requested by the workers. down here, in the bowels of the _holter_, the storm seemed a faraway and almost an unreal thing. the howling wind was heard faintly, and if the ship had not been tossing so violently, they might have been in the power-room of any industrial plant. the sweating engineer, his face grease-streaked, turned from his labors to face ramsay. he spoke with a nasal new england twang. "was that white sturgeon really off the ship?" "i--i didn't see anything," ramsay answered. captain schultz flashed him a grateful smile. the workers went on with their toils. obviously, among lake michigan sailors, or anyhow some of them, there was a firm belief in the evil powers of the white sturgeon. ramsay looked again at the little captain's face. it was a concerned, worried face, what one might expect to see in a man who was in danger of losing his ship. at the same time, and even though captain schultz remained completely in command, there was about him a certain air that had nothing to do with getting the _holter's_ engine working again. ramsay sought for the answer, and finally he found it. a strong man in his own right, captain schultz had seen the white sturgeon and he believed in it. ramsay climbed the narrow ladder-way leading back to the deck. the _holter_ was strong, he assured himself. there was little danger that it could be pounded to pieces by any sea. then he looked at the wild and angry lake and knew the fallacy of his reasoning. the _holter_ was strong, but the lake was stronger. waves, the color of steel and with the strength of steel, smashed into the ship and made her shiver. ramsay heard a shrieking protest as some plank or stay beneath the deck tore loose. the _holter_ shuddered, like a big horse in pain, and settled so low in the water that waves washed continuously across her deck. there was another shriek, and she settled deeper into the lake. she was a very sluggish craft now, with no control or direction, and ramsay guessed that the hides in the hold were getting soaked. the ship's nose dipped to meet a wave, and it did not come up again. the imprisoned horse bugled his fright. captain schultz, the engineer, the fireman and the deck hand appeared on deck. there was no sign of the mate; perhaps he had already gone over. the engineer and the fireman struggled under the weight of a crude raft which they had knocked together from such timbers as were available. ramsay looked uncertainly toward them, and the engineer glared back. "get your own!" he snarled. "me an' pete made this, an' me an' pete are goin' to use it!" they carried their makeshift raft to the settling nose of the ship, laid it down, mounted it, and let the next wave carry them off. ramsay felt a turning nausea in the pit of his stomach. as the raft went over the rail, the man called pete was swept from it. only the engineer stayed on, clinging desperately as he was washed out into the angry lake. in a second or two he had disappeared. captain schultz rolled frightened eyes and said to ramsay, "get a door, or hatch cover, an' ride that." suiting his actions to his words, captain schultz seized a fire axe that was hanging near and pounded the wheelhouse door from its hinges. he dragged the door to the rail, threw it into the lake, and jumped after it. the deck hand wrestled with a hatch cover, finally pried it loose, and rode that away. ramsay was left alone on the sinking _holter_. he tried to keep a clear head, but he could not help an overwhelming fear. this was nothing he had ever faced before and now, facing it, he did not know what to do. finding anything that would float and riding it away seemed to be the answer. then the little horse bugled and he knew that he was not alone. water crept around his feet as he made his way across the deck to the cage. he put his hand on the bar, and as soon as he did that the little horse thrust a soft, warm nose against it. he muzzled ramsay's hand with almost violent intensity. all his life he had depended upon men for everything. now, in this peril, men would not desert him. softly ramsay stroked the soft muzzle, but only for a second. the _holter_ was going down fast. soon, as the gloomy deck hand had forecast, she would be on the bottom of lake michigan. there was no time to lose. ramsay unlatched the door of the cage, opened it, and when he did that the horse walked out. he stayed very near to the boy, fearing to leave, and once or twice bumped ramsay with his shoulder. ramsay studied the angry lake, and looked back at the horse. again he glanced out on the stormy water. there was nothing else in sight. those who, by one way or another, hoped to reach shore were already lost in swirling sheets of rain. ramsay bit his lower lip so hard that he drew blood. the men had either jumped, or else had merely ridden over the rail on a wave that set the decks awash, but the horse could not do that. there was real danger of his breaking a leg, or becoming otherwise injured, if he tried. ramsay turned and caught up the axe with which captain schultz had stricken down the door. the black horse crowded with him, afraid to be alone, and the boy had to go around him to get back to the rail. the horse pushed close to him again and ramsay spoke soothingly, "easy. take it easy now." he raised the axe and swung it, and felt its blade bite deeply into the wooden rail. he swung again and again, until he had slashed through it, then moved ten feet to one side, toward the rail's supporting post, and cut it there. the severed section was whisked into the wave-tormented lake as a match stick disappears in a whirlpool. ramsay threw the axe back onto the _holter's_ sinking deck and stepped aside. get something that would float, captain schultz had said, and be sure that it would keep him above water. but suddenly he could think of nothing that would float. wildly he cast about for a hatch cover or a door. there was not one to be seen. the _holter_ made a sudden list that carried her starboard deck beneath the lake. a wave surged across her. even the little horse had unsteady legs. ramsay tried hard to overcome the terror within him. then, together, he and the little horse were in the lake. he threw wild arms about the animal's neck, and a huge wave overwhelmed them. gasping, he arose. the lake was wilder and fiercer and colder than he had thought it could be. every nerve and muscle in his body seemed chilled, so that he was barely able to move. another wave washed in, over both the little black horse and himself, and for a moment they were deep beneath the churning waters. they broke onto the surface, ramsay with both hands entwined in the horse's mane, and the horse turned to look at him. there was uncertainty in the animal's eyes, and fright, but no terror. the little horse knew his own power, and the fact that a human being stayed with him gave him confidence in that strength. ramsay spoke reassuringly. "we're all right. we'll do all right, black. let's get out of it." the words were a tonic, the inspiration the horse needed. the next time a wave rolled in, he did not try to fight it. rather, he rose with it, swimming strongly. he had adjusted himself to many situations, now he met this one without panic. an intelligent beast, he had long ago learned that every crisis must be met with intelligence. ramsay stayed easily beside him, keeping just enough weight on the swimming animal to hold his own head above water and doing nothing that would interfere with the furious fight the horse was waging to keep from drowning. the lake was indeed cold, colder than any other water the boy had ever known, and he had to exercise every particle of his mind and will just to cling to the horse. the wind blew furiously, and sluicing rain poured down. then the rain dwindled away and heavy mist settled in. ramsay knew a moment's panic. it was impossible to see more than a few feet or to tell which way the shore lay. the lake was huge, and should they be heading towards the michigan shore, they would never get there. ramsay tried to remember all he had ever known of wind and drift and currents on lake michigan, and discovered that he could remember nothing. any direction at all could be north and he was unable to orient himself, but he controlled the rising panic. it would do no good at all to lose his head. the wind seemed to be dying, and the waves lessening. ramsay kept his hold on the little horse's mane. he saw a floating object pass and tried to catch it, but when he did so he almost lost his hold on the horse. kicking hard to catch up, he twined both hands in the horse's mane and tightened them there. then he felt a rebirth of confidence. already they had been in the lake for a long, long time and he had been able to hold his own. it was impossible to get much colder, or more numb, than he already was and he could still hang on. besides, the horse seemed to know where he was going. he swam strongly, and apparently he was swimming straight. at any rate, there was no evidence that he was traveling in circles or choosing an erratic course. ramsay had been told that animals have an instinct compared to which the most sensitive human's is coarse and blunted and maybe that was true. maybe the horse did know where it was going. now that the waves were not rising so high, the horse swam faster. the wind died almost completely, so that the lake's surface was merely ruffled, and ramsay felt a mounting confidence in his ability to live through this. in the overcast a gull cried, and things had started going wrong with the _holter_ when the gulls left it. now they were back. probably they, too, had known of the approaching storm and had flown to safety off the lake. the swimmers broke out of the mist and ramsay saw the beach. it was about a hundred yards away, a sand beach behind which a rocky cliff rose. this wore a crest of evergreens, and its face was spotted here and there with smaller trees. a cloud of white gulls screamed into the air as ramsay and the horse approached. they reached the shallows, and the little horse's back emerged from the water like that of some suddenly appearing sea monster. ramsay let go his hold on the animal's mane and swam. then, coming to waist-high water in which he could wade, he splashed toward the beach. the wind had died, but waves still pounded the beach and it was very cold. the near borders of this wild lake, ramsay decided, probably never warmed up. with an immense body of cold water lapping them, they were perpetually chilled. while the little horse looked gravely on, ramsay stripped his clothing off, wrung it out, and put the wet garments back on. the horse crowded very close, as though he were afraid to go away. he nibbled ramsay with his lips. as soon as the boy moved, he moved with him. he stayed very near as ramsay walked up the beach, a stretch of driftwood-spotted sand that varied from sixty to two hundred feet in width and reached clear back to the rising bluff. a belt of wet sand showed where the lake had crawled up onto the beach and fallen back. the boy stopped suddenly, and the little horse stopped with him. just ahead, in the belt of wet sand which the highest waves had washed, lay two tumbled figures. the little horse tossed his head uneasily, not liking this at all, and ramsay felt a cold lump rise in his throat. he advanced at a slow walk and, after some hesitation, the horse trotted to catch up with him. ramsay stopped again. the two drowned people were captain schultz of the _holter_ and the deck hand who had wished so fervently that he was somewhere else. ramsay cleared the lump in his throat, and was struck by the notion that at last the deck hand had gone somewhere else. then the black horse raised his head and nickered, and the boy looked around to see a man on a spotted black-and-white horse riding toward him. he rode at full trot, the reins hanging loosely around his mount's throat, and he wore an outlandish sort of affected cowboy's hat pulled low over his eyes. his features were heavy, and would be flabby when he had aged a few more years. blue jeans clung tightly around his legs, and straight black hair lay thick on his head. as he rode, he leveled a heavy pistol. "go on! beat it!" "but ..." "this is my find! i said beat it!" the pistol roared, and a heavy ball buried itself in the sand at ramsay's feet. the boy felt a quick anger and a disinclination to obey the order to leave. he took a step toward the horseman, knowing that he would need a few seconds to re-load his pistol. but almost by magic another pistol appeared in the man's hand and he leveled it steadily. "your last warnin'. go on!" ramsay shrugged, and the black horse followed him as he walked on. this was indeed a strange land, where men were willing to fight for the possession of corpses. what did the horseman want with them? the loot they might have in their pockets? perhaps, but that seemed very unlikely. captain schultz was not the type of person who would carry a great deal of money in his pockets, and certainly the deck hand wouldn't have enough to bother about. but obviously the horseman wanted the two bodies. ramsay walked on up the sand beach. gulls rose protestingly as he came in sight, and flocks of ducks scudded across the water. a pair of canada geese hissed at him as he passed. they were guarding a nest and they were ready to fight for it. ramsay gave them a wide berth and the horse walked faithfully beside him. the afternoon was half-spent when ramsay smelled wood smoke. he quickened his pace, but remained cautious. this was a wild land, with no part of it wilder than this lonely lake michigan beach, and there was never any certainty as to just what anyone would find or how he would be received. nevertheless, if these people were friendly, other humans would be welcome. ramsay was both hungry and tired to the point of exhaustion. he fingered the two dollars in his pocket. he could pay his way. he rounded a long, forested nose of land where the bluff cut the sand beach to a narrow five feet and looked out on a peaceful bay. the bluff gave way to gently rising, treeless hills. a rail fence hemmed part of them in, and black-and-white cattle grazed inside the fence. a stone house, of dutch architecture, stood on a knoll that commanded a view of the lake, and a suitable distance from it was a snug wooden barn. a small lake, or large pond, separated from lake michigan by a narrow neck of land, glowed like a blue sapphire. chickens, ducks and geese crowded noisily together in the barnyard, and a man with a wooden pail in his hand came out of the barn door. ramsay walked forward, as first uncertainly and then very steadily. a man might be afraid, but it was always to his advantage not to let the enemy, if enemy this might be, know he was afraid. the man at the barn door hesitated, and then stood still while the boy approached. ramsay greeted him pleasantly, "hello." "hello." the man was tall and supple, with a frank, open face and intelligent, blue eyes. he was perhaps six years older than ramsay and he spoke with a dutch accent. ramsay said, "i was sailing up to three points on the _holter_. now she's wrecked and i must walk...." "the _holter's_ wrecked?" the other broke in. "yes." "any drowned people on the beach?" "two, but a man on a black-and-white horse took them away from me at pistol point." ramsay knew a rising impatience. "why the dickens should he do that?" the other grinned faintly. "you get money for watching 'em until they can be brought in and buried proper, and money is not easy to come by. if there's a man already watching these, that would be joe mannis. he combs the beach night and day after storms, and he's got as much money as most people. what can i do for you?" "i'd like something to eat before i go on to three points." "that we can give you," the farmer said. "come." when the horse would have followed them to the house, the dutch farmer looked quizzically at ramsay. the boy grinned. "he's not mine. he was on the _holter_ and we swam ashore together. without him i might not have made it." "then he is yours," the farmer said. "by right of salvage he is yours. but marta, she wouldn't like a horse in the house." "it's hardly the place for a horse," ramsay agreed. "can we leave him here?" "yaah." the farmer opened the barnyard gate and ramsay walked in. the horse followed willingly. ramsay stepped out and shut the gate. he saw the little horse, its head over the bars, watching him as he walked toward the house. it was a clean house, and a scrubbed and shiny one. even the big flat stone that served as a back doorstep had almost an antiseptic cleanliness. the house was filled with the odors of freshly baked bread and spice and canned jam and curing hams. ramsay smiled at the slim, pleasant girl who met them at the door. "marta," the farmer said, "this man was ship-wrecked and is to be our guest for as long as he wants to stay. he is...?" "ramsay cartou," ramsay supplied. "yaah! ramsay cartou. i am pieter van hooven and this is my wife, marta." ramsay made himself comfortable in the neat kitchen while marta van hooven hurried efficiently about, preparing a meal. there was baked whitefish, venison, roasted goose, fluffy mashed potatoes, crisp salad, billowy fresh rolls, delicious cheese and milk. ramsay ate until he could eat no more, then pushed himself away from the table and smiled graciously at marta van hooven. "that was good!" he said feelingly. "you ate so little." ramsay grinned, "not more than enough to feed three good-sized horses. you can really cook." pieter van hooven glowed at this compliment extended to his wife. he filled and lighted a clay pipe, and puffed contentedly. "what are you going to do now?" he asked ramsay. "i," ramsay hesitated, "i'd like to pay for the meal." pieter van hooven smiled. "forget that. you were our guest." "how far is three points?" "six miles. just stay on the beach." "reckon i'll go up there then. i've got a job waiting for me at the tannery. by the way, do you have any use for that horse?" "a good horse can always be used on a farm. but i won't take him. i'll keep him, and you can have him any time you want." pieter van hooven looked queerly at ramsay. "you sure you want to go to three points?" "i've got a job there, and i need it." "then go, but remember that nobody starves in wisconsin. marta and me, we got no money but we got everything else. you don't like it in three points, you might come back here?" "i'll be glad to," ramsay said, a little puzzled. "then do that, my friend." well-fed and rested, ramsay walked alone up the sandy beach. stay on the sand, pieter van hooven had advised him, and he couldn't go wrong. three points, the tannery town, was right on the lake. two hours after he left the van hoovens, ramsay reached the village. three points nestled snugly in a gap which, only recently, had been hacked out of the hemlock forest. many big trees still stood on the edge of town, and some right in the center; and most of the houses were built of hemlock logs. there were a few, evidently belonging to three points' wealthier residents, that were massively built and patterned after the new england style of architecture. there was no mistaking the tannery; the smell would have guided one there, even if the mountains of hemlock bark piled all about had not. ramsay entered the long, low, shed-like building, and a man working at a steaming vat looked up curiously. ramsay approached him with "who's the boss man around here?" "i am," an unseen man said. ramsay whirled to look at the man who had spoken, and he came face to face with devil chad. chapter three _on the beach_ ramsay felt an instant tension and a bristling anger, and he knew now that he should have connected two incidents. the man who had written to him and offered him a job in the three points tannery had signed his name 'devlin chadbourne.' devlin chadbourne--devil chad--and ramsay took a backward step. never before had he met a man so capable of arousing in him a cordial dislike that was almost an urge to start fighting immediately. "where's the _holter_?" devil chad demanded. "i sent her back to milwaukee after captain schultz let me off here," ramsay said sarcastically. "don't get smart with me, boy." devil chad glowered. "you was on the _holter_ when she sailed." "where were you?" ramsay demanded. "i'll ask the questions here!" devil chad's thick lips curled in an ugly oblong. "where's the _holter_?" "at the bottom of lake michigan!" ramsay flared. "captain schultz and one of your deck hands are lying drowned on the beach! i don't know where the others are." devil chad's glass balls of eyes glinted. his face twisted into a horrible glare, and every inch of his big frame seemed to shrink and swell with the rage that consumed him. "you mean to tell me," he demanded furiously, "that all them hides was lost?" "men were lost," ramsay pointed out. "you mean to tell me," devil chad repeated, as though he had not heard ramsay, "that all them hides was lost?" "swim out and get 'em," ramsay invited. "i'll show you the place where i landed, and the _holter_ can't be more than a couple of miles out in the lake." "what did schultz do?" devil chad demanded. "drowned." "you're pretty flip, boy," devil chad warned, "an' i don't put up with flip people. you tell me what happened." "your greasy tub was carrying one third more than ever should have been put on her, her equipment was no good, we ran into a storm and the engines quit." "all them hides lost." devil chad was overwhelmed by this personal tragedy and could think of nothing else. "couldn't you of done somethin'?" "it wasn't my ship and they weren't my hides. what are you going to do for the families of the men who were lost?" "why should i do anything? they knew when they signed on that they was runnin' risks." devil chad turned his unreadable eyes squarely on ramsay. "what do you want here?" "nothing." "ain't you the boy who wrote me from new york, an' asked me for a job?" the man at the vat continued working and others stayed at their tasks, but ramsay was aware of a rippling under-current. there was an uneasiness among the men, and a fear; and in spite of the fact that they kept busy they turned covert eyes on ramsay and devil chad. the boy felt a flashing anger. who was this man, and what was he, that so many others could live in almost craven fear of him? "if you are," devil chad continued, still holding ramsay in the cage of his eyes, "you can have the job but i hold back twenty-five cents a day until them hides are paid for." "take your job!" ramsay exploded, "and go plumb to the bottom of the lake with it!" "i warned you, boy," devil chad was talking softly now. "i warned you. i don't put up with flip people, an' now i'm goin' to teach you the lesson that i should of given you on the _holter_." "why didn't you sail on the _holter_?" ramsay demanded. devil chad made no answer. he was in a half-crouch, his huge head bent to his chest and his fists knotted so tightly that the knuckles were whitened. his shaggy hair tumbled forward on his forehead, and his eyes still held no expression. ramsay raised his voice so all in the building could hear. "you filthy pup! you lily-livered slug! you knew the _holter_ was going to the bottom some day! even your deck hand knew it! you sent other men out to die, but didn't risk yourself! you haven't got enough money to hire me to work for you!" devil chad was inching forward, his head still bent; and when he had advanced a foot, he sprang. it was the rush of a bull, but not a cumbersome bull. he flung out both arms, intending to crush ramsay to his chest and break his ribs. it was the only way devil chad knew how to fight, but the boy knew other tricks. when the bigger, heavier man launched his charge, ramsay stood still. he saw those massive stretched arms, and knew their purpose, but he did not move until devil chad flung them out for his crushing embrace. then, and only then, did ramsay act. he flitted aside, balancing himself on the balls of his feet and whirling even as he evaded the other's lunge. like a snapping whip his clenched right fist flicked in to deliver a stinging blow to the side of his enemy's head. but the blow did little except spin devil chad around and arouse a mighty bellow in the depths of his enormous chest. ramsay remained poised, alert for the next charge, and an almost grim satisfaction drove other thoughts from his mind. he had not wanted this fight and had not forced it, but within him there was a curious feeling that it was fore-ordained, and now that it was here, he relished it. devil chad was not a man. he was an animal who thought as an animal thinks. other men, other human beings, had lost their lives in his overloaded, unseaworthy ship, and all this brute could think of was the fact that he had lost his cargo. devil chad's eyes, even in the heat of battle, remained opaque and strangely without expression. it was only his face, like a rubber mask expertly molded to form an expression of rage, that betrayed his fury. he swung heavily, running forward even as he launched his blow, and ramsay ducked beneath it. he came up to land a hard left and a right on devil chad's jaw. he might as well have struck a granite boulder. devil chad did not even flinch and the boy knew a moment's uncertainty. his enemy was a bull, but bulls were felled with pole-axes, not with fists. ramsay backed lightly away. all about now, knowing that devil chad was engrossed in the fight and had no time for them, men had openly stopped work and were staring at the battlers. on the faces of some was written incredulity. some looked on with delighted interest, and an expectant smile lighted the swarthy features of a little frenchman who had stopped moving cattle hides to watch ramsay weave away from devil chad. there was no man here who, in some silent way, did not cheer the boy on, but there were none who expected him to win. all knew their master. devil chad rushed again, swinging his fists like pistons as he did so, and again ramsay side-stepped. he landed a fierce blow squarely on the other's nose and was gratified to see a crimson stream of blood spout forth to mingle darkly with his antagonist's black beard and mustache. a cold uncertainty rose within ramsay. he had fought before, many times, and he had defeated his opponents and had been defeated, but never before had he fought a man just like this one. devil chad, apparently, was able to absorb an endless amount of punishment with no effect whatever on himself. he was as tough as one of the trees that grew on the outskirts of three points. ramsay risked a fleeting backward glance to see where he was going, and edged away from the wall. he was breathing hard because of the tremendous physical effort he had exerted, but he was far from exhausted and he knew that, as long as he could keep the battle in the open, he could avoid the other's charges. but the certainty that he could not win this battle solidified. it seemed possible to pound devil chad all day long without hurting him at all. "kill him!" an excited man shouted. devil chad paused just long enough to locate and identify this rash employee who dared encourage his enemy, and ramsay felt a nausea in the pit of his stomach. when the battle ended, no matter who won, at least one man would have some explaining to do and probably a beating to take. the boy kept his eyes on devil chad, anticipating the other's next move. then he tripped over an unseen and unsuspected block of wood and fell backward. even as he fell he tried to pick himself up and scoot out of the way. but a bludgeon, the toe of devil chad's heavy boot, collided soddenly with his ribs and a sickening pain shot through his entire body. he turned, snatching furiously at the boot as it was raised again and still trying to wriggle away. his arm flipped convulsively as devil chad kicked him squarely on the wrist, and he felt a creeping numbness that began there and spread to his shoulder. he rolled to escape his tormentor, rolled again, and struggled to his hands and knees. vaguely, as though he were viewing it in some fantastic dream, he saw the big black boot flying at his head. the boot was a huge thing and so clearly-outlined that ramsay saw every tiny wrinkle in it. he was aware of the stitching where the ponderous sole joined the upper leather, and he knew that he must get away. but that was a vague and misty thought, one he seemed unable to carry farther. a mighty rage flared within him. no more than a split second elapsed before the boot struck, but it seemed like hours. ramsay was aware of the fact that his two silver dollars, his last money, rolled out of his pockets and across the tannery's floor. a thousand colored lights danced in his head, and then he was back on the lake. he had loved the lake, he remembered, and there was something wonderfully cool and refreshing about returning to it. a small boat with a crazy dutch fisherman at her tiller danced out of the lake's gray stretches and sported gracefully before him. on top of the mast was a tame sea gull that clicked his mandibles and fluttered his wings. ramsay even saw the boat's name written in fine script across her bows. she was the _spray_. the _spray_ hove to very close to ramsay, and her skipper looked at him. he was a tall man, very powerful, and he was blond and easily laughing. there was no grimness about him, only grace and light spirit. several men had gone sailing on a raft made of cattle hides, he told ramsay, and they were in great trouble out on the lake. did ramsay care to go with him and help bring the unfortunates safely back? the sea gull, of course, would help too. when ramsay pretended not to hear, the crazy dutch fisherman obligingly repeated his information. again ramsay pretended not to hear; whereupon the dutch fisherman caught up a wooden bucket, dipped it into the lake and showered him with ice-cold water. he held the bucket waist-high, as though wondering whether more water was necessary, and the twinkle remained in his eyes and the laugh on his lips. it was impossible to be angry with him. laughing back, ramsay agreed to go help the foolish men who had sailed away on the cattle hides. then he awakened, to find a woman bathing his face with cold water. for a moment she was a distorted picture, a hazy vision that advanced toward him and retreated far away. again ramsay almost lost himself in the dim world into which devil chad's boots had kicked him. the cold cloth on his face brought him back, and he opened his eyes to see the woman very clearly. she was small, with a worn face, so weary from endless toil that the skin was drawn tightly over it. but her eyes were the brownest, the softest and the gentlest ramsay had ever seen. black hair was combed smoothly back on her head and caught in a knot at the base of her neck. again she laid the cold cloth on his face, and the boy closed his eyes at the luxury of such a thing. then he spoke, "where am i?" "_sh-h._ don't try to talk, m'sieu." the woman, unmistakably french, rose and went into another room. ramsay looked about him. the room in which he lay was walled with rough, unplaned boards, and the ceiling was made of the same material. only the floor, scrubbed so carefully that it glowed like a polished diamond, was of smooth boards. light was admitted by a single small pane of glass, and the light reflected on a crucifix that hung on the far wall. there were a few pictures, yellow with age, a table over which a deer skin was gracefully draped, and a candle-holder with a half-burned candle. everything was neat and spotlessly clean. the woman came back bearing a hollowed-out gourd. she passed an arm around ramsay's shoulders--despite her small size she was surprisingly strong--and assisted him to a half-sitting position. she held the gourd to his lips. ramsay drank deeply, and fell back sputtering. the gourd was partly-filled with cold water and partly with a whisky, so strong and violent that it burned his mouth and lips. he lay blinking, while tears welled in his eyes and flowed down his cheeks. the whisky, doubtless homemade, was strong enough to choke a horse. but, after a half-minute, it made itself felt. a warm glow spread from the roots of ramsay's hair to the tips of his toes. some of his many aches and pains lessened. "more?" the woman inquired softly. "uh ... no--no thank you." she put the gourd on the table and came over to lay a hand on his forehead. it was a calloused and work-hardened hand, but so gentle was she that her caress was scarcely a feather's touch. ramsay smiled his thanks. "how did i get here?" he asked again. "my man, pierre ledou, he brought you. but now you must rest, m'sieu, and try to sleep. badly have you been hurt." the woman drew an exquisite, hand-sewn lace curtain, an incongruous thing in these rough surroundings, over the window, and semi-gloom reigned in the room. she tiptoed out, closing the door behind her, and ramsay was left alone with his thoughts. that mighty rage mounted within him again. he had been fighting with devil chad, he remembered, and not doing badly until he fell over some unseen object. then he had been kicked into--into this. experimentally ramsay tried to move his legs, and found that he could do so. he clenched and unclenched his fists, and there in the half-light of an unknown room, in a stranger's house, he made a solemn vow. one day, no matter what else happened, he and devil chad would meet again. devil chad would pay, in full, for every twinge ramsay suffered. in that moment ramsay knew that he was not afraid. his burning anger became tempered with pleasant wonder. this was a harsh land, but there was room for tenderness. he was a stranger and had been in three points only long enough to get himself kicked into insensibility, but there were those in three points who knew compassion and friendship. otherwise, he would not now be lying in some unknown man's house and being ministered to by that man's wife. pierre--ramsay strove to recall the last name and could not. he fell into a quiet slumber. the next time he awakened, the candle on his table was burning and his host--vaguely ramsay remembered seeing him move hides about the tannery--was standing near. like his wife, he was small and gentle, with a manner that belied the fierce little black mustache clinging to his upper lip. he was too small and gentle, ramsay thought, ever to fit into a town such as three points. but certainly he was kind and good. he smiled, revealing flashing white teeth, and when he did ramsay remembered the name, pierre ledou. "how do you feel?" he asked briskly. "better." ramsay grinned. "he beat you," pierre ledou said. "_sacre!_ but he beat you!" the little man's eyes roved about the room, as though seeking the solution to a problem which he must solve, and ramsay knew that he, too, hated devil chad. "he kicked you!" pierre ledou said. "i know, and some day i'll pay him back for that." interest brightened in the little frenchman's eyes. "you think so, m'sieu--m'sieu ..." "cartou," ramsay said. "ramsay cartou. and i will not kill anybody unless i have to. but one day this devil chad will pay, ten times over, for everything he did to me." "he is very hard man." pierre ledou sighed. "so am i!" ramsay gritted, and again anger rose within him. "why should so many people tremble in their boots when he comes around?" pierre ledou shrugged eloquently. "the job. a man has to have the job." "i see. and devil chad controls 'the job'?" "not all," pierre ledou explained. "he does not walk so freely where the fishermen and farmers are." "i'm beginning to like these fishermen and farmers more and more." "they are nice," pierre agreed, "but wild. especially the fishermen. oh, so wild! out in the lake they go, afraid of nothing; but those that do not drown return with multitudes of fish." "do many drown?" "very many, but you cannot kill a fisherman. they say that the lake sends back two for every one it takes, and maybe that is so. at any rate, when a fisherman drowns, two more always appear. i would go fishing myself were it not that i am afraid. are you hungry, m'sieu?" "yes," ramsay answered frankly. "then i will get you something to eat." pierre ledou disappeared. ramsay lay back on the bed to think. now this half-wild, half-tame country into which he had come was assuming a definite pattern. some, like pierre ledou, had been attracted by the endless wealth offered, and had found only a back-breaking job with devil chad or his counterpart. others, and ramsay thought of hans van doorst and pieter van hooven, were finding wealth. it was not wealth that could be measured in terms of money; probably the crazy dutch fisherman and pieter van hooven had little money, but just the same it was wealth. rather than toil meekly for someone else and obey a master's every wish, they had chosen to discover for themselves the true richness of this endlessly rich land and they were discovering it. so some were afraid and some were not; and those who were not seemed to enjoy life at its fullest. and, as usual, there was the arrogant overlord, devil chad, who wanted everything for himself and who would take it if he could. he did not care what he did or whom he killed, as long as he got what he wanted. pierre ledou came back, bearing a bowl on a wooden platter. ramsay sniffed hungrily. the bowl was old and cracked, but like everything else in the house it was scrupulously clean, and the odors wafted from it would tempt the appetite of a dying man. pierre put the bowl and a wooden spoon down where ramsay could reach them, and ramsay saw a meat stew in which fluffy dumplings floated. "it is not much," the little frenchman apologized. "venison stew with dumplings, and that is all. would you like some spirits to go with it?" "uh!" ramsay remembered the fiery liquor. "no thanks. i would like some water." "i can offer you milk." "that will be fine." pierre disappeared, and returned with a bowl of milk and a beaker of the strong whisky. he gave the bowl to ramsay and held the whisky aloft. "your health, m'sieu," he said. he drained the beaker without even quivering, and ramsay suppressed a shudder. dipping the spoon in his venison stew, he tasted it. it was rich, with all the expertness of french cuisine behind it, and delicious. ramsay took a chunk of venison in his mouth and chewed it with relish. venison, fish and whatever else they could get out of the country doubtless meant much to the people who lived here. "how long have you worked in the tannery?" he asked pierre. "five years," the little frenchman said. "five long years. i shall work there much longer if god is kind." "may he always be kind to you!" ramsay said feelingly. "my thanks to you, m'sieu ramsay. and now, with your permission, i shall retire. i suggest that you sleep, for you look very weary. should you want anything you have only to call." ramsay fell into a restful slumber from which he was awakened by the sound of people stirring. the early morning sun, just rising, caressed the curtained window softly and a sleepy bird twittered outside the window. there was the sound of lifted stove lids and of people stirring. ramsay dozed off, then sprang guiltily awake and jumped out of bed. he felt good, with only an occasional twinge of pain here and there. hastily he pulled on his trousers and shirt, laced his shoes and smoothed his rumpled hair with his hand. when he had made himself as presentable as he could, he went into the other room. though the hour was still early and the sun not yet fairly up, pierre ledou had already left for his work in the tannery. his pleasant wife was pouring hot water from a pan on the stove into a big wooden bowl, evidently the receptacle in which dishes were washed. she turned around. "good morning!" ramsay said cheerfully. "good morning, m'sieu." then she cautioned him. "should you be out of bed?" "i feel fine." ramsay grinned. "strong as a bull and twice as hungry." "then i will prepare you something to eat. if m'sieu cares to do so, he may wash just outside the door." "thanks." ramsay went out the door. to one side, in front of the house, there was a big wooden bowl and two wooden pails filled with water. a well-worn trail threading away from the door obviously led to a well or spring. hanging on a wooden peg driven into a hole, drilled in the cabin's wall, were a clean towel and washcloth. even the door's hinges, cleverly carved pins that turned on holes drilled into wooden blocks attached to the cabin's wall, were wood. evidently, in this country, wood substituted for metal. ramsay filled the bowl with water, washed himself and went back into the cabin. pierre ledou's wife was bending over a skillet from which came the smell of frying fish. ramsay sniffed hungrily, and licked his lips. she turned the fish, let it cook a little while longer, and put it on the table, along with feather-light biscuits, butter and cold milk. ramsay ate hungrily, but tried to curb his appetite so he would also eat decently, and as he ate he talked. "why," he asked pierre ledou's wife, "did your husband bring me here?" "you were hurt and needed help," she said simply. in sudden haste ramsay felt his pocket, and discovered that the two silver dollars were gone. he remembered that he had lost them while he fought with devil chad, and a flood of embarrassment almost overwhelmed him. "i--i have no money to pay you," he said awkwardly. for the first time she looked reprovingly at him. "we did not ask for money, m'sieu. one does not." ramsay knew another awkward moment and a little shame. "it is very good of you," he said. she said, "one does not neglect a fellow human." ramsay finished eating and pushed his dishes back. pierre ledou's wife, who had already finished washing the rest of the dishes, put ramsay's in the dish water and left them there. she smiled at him. "it would be well if you rested." "i'm not tired. really i'm not." "you should rest. badly were you hurt." "let me sit here a while." "as long as you sit." she went to a cupboard and took from it a big ball of strong linen thread. from the table she caught up a small board. wrapping the thread twice around the board, she knotted it. slipping the thread from the board, she hung the loop she had made on a wooden peg and made a new loop. her hands flew so swiftly that in a few moments she had seventeen of the meshes, all joined together. "what are you doing?" ramsay inquired interestedly. "making a gill net," she explained. "it was ordered by baptiste leclair, a fisherman, and is to have a four and a half-inch mesh. so we use a mesh board that is exactly two and a quarter inches wide and wrap the thread twice around. now i have seventeen. see?" "i see." she strung the seventeen meshes on a wooden rod, placed two chairs far enough apart so that the meshes stretched, tied the rod to them and began knitting on the net she had started. "the net is to be seventeen meshes, or seventy-six and one-half inches, wide. now i lengthen it." under the boy's interested eyes the gill net grew swiftly, and as it lengthened she wrapped it around the rod. ramsay watched every move. "how long will it be?" he queried. "one net," she told him, "is about two hundred and fifty feet long. but usually several are tied together to form a box of nets. a box is about fourteen hundred feet." "isn't that a lot?" she smiled. "a crew of three good men, like hans van doorst or baptiste leclair, with a good mackinaw boat can handle two boxes." "could you make this net longer if you wished to?" "oh, yes. it could be many miles long. two hundred and fifty feet is a good length for one net because, if it is torn by strong water or heavy fish, it may be untied and repaired while the rest may still be used." "what else must you do?" "after the net is two hundred and fifty feet long, i will use fifteen- or sixteen-thread twine through from three to six meshes on the outer edge. this, in turn, will be tied to ninety-thread twine which extends the full length." ramsay was amazed at the way this quiet little woman reeled off these figures, as though she were reciting a well-learned lesson. but he wanted to know even more. "how do they set such a net?" "the fishermen gather small, flat stones, about three to the pound, and cut a groove around them so that they can be suspended from a rope. these are called sinkers, and are tied to the net about nine feet apart. for floats they use cedar blocks, about two feet long by one-quarter of an inch thick and an inch and a quarter wide. they bore a small hole one inch from the end, then split the block to the bored hole. the floats--and the number they use depends on the depth to which they sink the net--are pushed over the ninety-thread twine." "let me try!" ramsay was beginning to feel the effects of idleness and wanted action. "but of course, m'sieu." ramsay took the mesh board in his hand and, as he had seen her do, wrapped the thread twice around it. but, though it had looked simple when she did it, there was a distinct knack to doing it right. the mesh board slipped from his fingers and the twine unwound. madame ledou laughed. "let me show you." patiently, carefully, she guided his fingers through the knitting of a mesh, then another and a third and fourth. ramsay felt a rising elation. he had liked the _spray_ when he saw her and now he liked this. fishing, from the making of the nets to setting them, seemed more than ever a craft that was almost an art. he knitted a row of meshes across the gill net, and happily surveyed his work. at the same time he remained aware of the fact that she could knit three times as fast as he. ramsay thrust his tongue into his cheek and grimly continued at his work. after an hour madame ledou said soberly, "you do right well, m'sieu. but should you not rest now?" ramsay said, "this is fun." "it is well that you enjoy yourself. would you consider it uncivil if i left you for a while?" "please do what you must." she left, and ramsay continued to work on the net. as he did, his skill improved. though he was still unable to knit as swiftly as madame ledou, he could make a good net. and there was a feel, a tension, to the thread. within itself the thread had life and being. it was supple, strong and would not fail a fisherman who depended upon it. madame ledou returned, smiled at him and went unobtrusively about the task of preparing a lunch. so absorbed was he in his net-making that he scarcely tasted the food. all afternoon he worked on the net. madame ledou said approvingly, "you make a good net, m'sieu. you have knitted almost four pounds of thread into this one. the most skilled net-makers, those who have had years of experience, cannot knit more than six or seven pounds in one day." twilight shadows were lengthening when pierre ledou returned. the little man, as always, was courteous. but behind his inherited gallic grace and manners lay a troubled under-current. pierre spoke in rapid french to his wife, and she turned worried eyes on their guest. ramsay stopped knitting the net. all afternoon there had been growing upon him an awareness that he could not continue indefinitely to accept the ledou's hospitality, and now he knew that he must go. the pattern had definite shape, and the reason behind pierre's uneasiness was not hard to fathom. devil chad was the ruler, and devil chad must rule. who harbored his enemy must be his enemy, and pierre ledou needed the job in the tannery. should he lose it, the ledous could not live. with an air of spontaneity, anxious not to cause his host and hostess any embarrassment, ramsay rose and smiled. "it has been a most enjoyable stay at your home," he said. "but of course it cannot continue. i have work to find. if you will be kind enough to shelter me again tonight, i will go tomorrow, and i shall never forget the ledous." chapter four _trouble for the_ spray early the next morning, when pierre departed for work, ramsay bade farewell to madame ledou and left their house with his kind host. he did so with a little reluctance, now that all his money was gone and the future loomed more uncertainly than ever. at the same time there was about him a rising eagerness and an unfulfilled expectation. it seemed to him that, since swimming ashore from the sinking _holter_, he had ceased to be a boy and had become a man. and a man must know that all desirable things had their undesirable aspects. this country was wonderful. if, to stay in it, he must come to grips with other men--men as strong and as cruel as devil chad--and with nature too, ramsay felt himself willing to do that. as soon as the two were fifty yards from the ledou home he purposely dropped behind pierre and leaned against a huge hemlock until the little man was out of sight. pierre had said nothing and ramsay had not asked, but the latter knew devil chad had told the frenchman that, if he valued his job in the tannery, he must no longer shelter ramsay. the boy had no wish to further embarrass his host or to jeopardize his job by being seen with him. therefore he leaned against the tree until pierre had had time to reach and enter the tannery. slowly ramsay left his tree and walked down the same path that pierre had followed. badly as he needed a job, it was useless to try to get one in the tannery. he slowed his pace even more as he walked past the building. he had been beaten by devil chad, and he might be beaten a second time should they fight again; but he was not afraid to try. his body had been hurt, but not his courage. almost insolently ramsay stopped where he could be seen from the tannery's open door, and waited there. he was aware of curious, half-embarrassed glances from men hurrying into the place, and then they avoided looking at him. finally a man stopped. he spoke to a man who halted beside him. "all right, jules. get in an' start to work." he was a straw boss or foreman, ramsay decided, and his voice betrayed his new england forebears. an older man, with hair completely gray, like all the rest he was wrinkled and weathered. physically he was lean and tough, but he did not seem belligerent or even unkind. when the last worker had entered the tannery, he turned to ramsay. "you needn't be afraid, son. mr. chadbourne went to milwaukee last night." "i'm not afraid. i was just wondering if he wouldn't come out for a second start." "look, son," the other's air was that of an older and wiser person trying to reason with an impetuous boy, "you haven't got a chance. the best thing you can do is get out of town before mr. chadbourne comes back." "maybe i like this town." "you can only cause trouble by staying here." "i've been in trouble before, too." the older man shrugged, as though he had discharged his full responsibility in warning ramsay, and said, "it's your funeral, my boy. stay away from the tannery." "you needn't worry." ramsay strolled on down the dusty street, and in spite of himself he was a little relieved. if devil chad had gone to milwaukee, probably to arrange for another shipload of hides, it was unlikely that he would be back before night at the earliest. ramsay would not have to fight again today; presumably he was free to do as he pleased without any fear of interruption. he thrust his hands into empty pockets and, to cheer himself up, started to whistle. a fat indian, dressed in ragged trousers, which some white man had thrown out, and an equally-tattered black coat which he could not button across his immense, naked stomach, grinned at him. ramsay grinned back and winked. his friends in new york had been awe-stricken at the very thought of venturing into the wild midwest where, they thought, scalping parties occurred every few hours and no white man was safe from the savages. ramsay had enjoyed himself by elaborating on the part he would play when such a war party came along. but he had discovered for himself, before he left chicago, that the indians in this section of wisconsin were harmless. when they could they sold bead work and basketry to the settlers and they were not above stealing. but they were not warlike. ramsay strode past another building, a big one with two separate floors and an attic. its chimney belched smoke, and from within came the whine of saws and other machinery. in front of the building were stacked a great number of barrels, made of white pine and with hoops formed from the black ash tree. ramsay hesitated a moment and entered. three points was obviously a raw frontier town, but definitely it was not as raw as ramsay had expected it to be. obviously there was at least one industrial plant in addition to the tannery. it seemed to be a cooper's shop, engaged in the production of barrels, and it might hold a job for him. he stopped just inside the door, trying to adjust his ears to the scream of a big circular saw that was powered by a steam engine. beyond were lathes and various other machines, and a great many wooden pails were piled against the far wall. this factory, then, made both barrels and pails. presently a middle-aged man, with the neatest clothing ramsay had yet seen in three points, came out of an office and walked toward him. he shouted to make himself heard above the screaming saw, "yes?" "are you the manager here?" ramsay shouted back. "yes." "need any men?" "what?" ramsay grinned faintly. the factory, if not bedlam, was close to it. it was incredible that anyone at all could carry on an intelligent, or even an intelligible, conversation inside it. ramsay shouted, "let's go outside!" the other followed him out, and far enough from the door so they could hear each other. ramsay turned to his companion, "my name's ramsay cartou and i'm looking for a job. do you have any to offer?" the manager looked soberly at ramsay's battered face, then with the toe of his shoe he began tracing a circle in the dirt. he hesitated. then, "i'm afraid not." ramsay felt a stirring anger. definitely there was more work in three points than there were men to do it. the town had need of strong workers. for a moment he looked steadily at the manager, who looked away. then he swallowed and tried a new tack, "what do you do with all the barrels?" "most of them go to fishermen who use them to ship their catches to chicago. the pails are shipped by boat to wherever there is a market for them." "and you can't give me a job?" "that's right." "why?" ramsay challenged. "we--we have a full crew." "i see. now will you answer one question?" "certainly." "does 'mister' chadbourne own this place too?" "he has a financial interest ..." the other stopped short. "see here, young man! i have told you that i cannot offer you a job and that should be sufficient!" "i just wanted to know why," ramsay said. he turned and walked away from the cooper's shop. his chin was high, and anger seethed within him. devil chad, apparently, owned most of three points and a lot of other things between that and milwaukee. if there was an opportunity to earn a dollar, honest or dishonest, devil chad was seizing that opportunity. obviously the manager of the cooper's shop had heard of his fight with ramsay--in a small community like this everyone would have heard of it--and was afraid to give him a job. ramsay resumed his tuneless whistling. plainly he was going to get nowhere in three points. but definitely he had no intention of running away with his tail between his legs, like a whipped puppy. he liked this lakeshore country and he intended to stay in it. if he had to fight to do that, then he would fight. between the rugged trunks of tall hemlock trees he caught a glimpse of the lake, sparkling blue in the sunshine and gently ruffled by a soft south wind. he turned his steps toward it, and now he walked eagerly. the lake was magic, a world in itself which never had been tamed and never would be tamed. he shivered ecstatically. this was what he had come west to find. devil chad and his tannery, the town of three points, and even milwaukee paled into nothingness when compared to the lake. he broke from the last trees and saw lake michigan clearly. a heavy wooden pier extended out onto it, and a sailing vessel was tied up at one side. ramsay read her name. she was the _brilliant_, from ludington, michigan, and a line of men were toiling up a gangplank with heavy bags which they were stacking on the pier. on the pier's other side a steamer, a side-wheeler like the _holter_, was loading leather from devil chad's tannery. she was the _jackson_, a freighter that carried assorted cargoes between three points, milwaukee and chicago. ramsay strolled out on the pier and brightened when the cold lake air struck his face. it was impossible to be on the lake, or near it, and feel stolid or dull. it provided its own freshness, and ramsay thought it also furnished a constant inspiration. he watched the sweating men continue to bring loaded bags up from the sailing vessel and approached near enough to ask a burly deck hand, "what's this cargo?" the man looked surlily at him. "what's it look like?" "diamonds." ramsay grinned. "well, it ain't. it's salt." "what the blazes will anyone do with so much salt?" "eat it," the deck hand grunted. "people hereabouts like salt." then he, too, grinned. "naw, it's for fishermen. they got to have somethin' to salt their catches in." "oh. i see." ramsay added this bit of information to the lore he had already gathered. obviously fishing consisted of more than just catching fish. actually taking the fish, of course, was the most exciting and romantic part. but the fishermen could not ply their trade at all without women like madame ledou who made their nets, a shop like the three points' cooper's shop which provided the barrels into which the fish were packed, or vessels like the _brilliant_ which brought salt that kept the fish from spoiling. ramsay stayed on the pier until the _brilliant_ was unloaded, and licked his lips while he watched her crew eating thick sandwiches. they took a whole loaf of bread, sliced it lengthwise, packed the center with meat, cheese, fish and anything else they could lay their hands on, and, according to their taste, washed it down with cold lake water or beakers of whisky. ramsay looked away. madame ledou had provided him with a substantial breakfast, but this was an invigorating country wherein one soon became hungry again. ramsay patted his empty stomach. probably madame ledou would give him something to eat should he go back there, but he had already posed enough problems for the ledous. besides, he did not like the idea of asking for food. he left the pier to walk past the lake house, three points' only hotel. savory odors of cooking food wafted to his nostrils and made him drool. he walked past the lake house, then turned to walk back. he trotted up the steps and sat down at a table spread with a white cloth. a hard-eyed woman, wearing a brown dress over which she had tied a neat white apron, came up to him. ramsay leaned back. he had decided to make his play, and he might as well play it to the end. "what does the menu offer?" he asked almost haughtily. "whitefish at fifteen cents, venison at fifteen cents, a boiled dinner at ten cents." "what? no steak?" "the steak dinner," the woman said, "costs thirty cents. with it you get potatoes, coffee, salad and apple pie." "bring it to me," ramsay said. "and please be prompt. my time is valuable." "as soon as possible," the woman said. ramsay relaxed in his chair. a half-hour later the waitress brought him a broiled sirloin, so big that it overflowed the platter on which it rested. there were crisp fried potatoes, coffee--a rare beverage in this country--cream, a salad and a huge wedge of apple pie. ramsay ate hungrily, then the waitress approached him. "will you pay now?" "it is a lot," said ramsay, who could not have swallowed another crust, "to pay for such a puny meal." "i told you the price before you ordered." "it doesn't matter," ramsay waved a languid hand. "especially since i have no money. what do we do now?" ramsay stood in the kitchen of the lake house, and by the light of an oil lamp piled the last of what had been a mountain of dishes, into warm water. there must, he thought, have been thousands of them, but there were only a few more and he dropped one of those. instantly the woman who had served him popped into the kitchen. "must you be so clumsy?" "it is the only dish i have broken out of all i have washed," ramsay said. "don't you think i have paid off my dinner by this time?" "you knew the price before you ordered." "the way you've had me working since, i earned the whole cow. haven't i repaid you, with perhaps a bonus of a sandwich for supper?" "sit down, kid," the woman said gruffly. she brought him a sandwich, huge slices of fluffy homemade bread between which thick slices of beef nestled, and a bowl of milk. ramsay ate hungrily, and after he had finished his hostess talked to him. "you're the youngster devil chad beat up, aren't you?" "i tripped," ramsay said grimly. "devil chad trips 'em all. you're crazy if you think you can get away with anything. best thing you can do is leave." ramsay said, "i guess i'm just naturally crazy." the woman shrugged. "i'm tellin' you for your own good, kid. you'll get nowhere in three points as long as chad don't like you. why not be a smart little boy and beat it back to wherever you came from?" ramsay said, "that isn't a good idea." "you're a stubborn kid, ain't you?" "mule-headed," ramsay agreed. "even worse than a mule." "well, if you won't take good advice, there's not much i can do. would you like to sleep here tonight?" "nope. i'll be going now, and thanks for the steak." "well ... good luck, kid." "thanks." ramsay walked out into the darkness and drew his jacket tightly about him. the lake shore was cold by day, much colder by night when there was no sun to warm it. he had brought extra clothing, but all his personal belongings had gone down with the _holter_. he looked dismally at the dark town--three points seemed to go to bed with the setting sun--and wandered forlornly down toward the lake front. both the sailing vessel from ludington and the _jackson_ were gone. a little wind was driving wavelets gently against the shore, and the lap-lap of their rising and falling made pleasant music in the night. ramsay wandered out on the pier, where the stacked bags of salt were covered with tarpaulins. he looked furtively around. nobody else was on or even near the pier, and it seemed unlikely that anyone would come. he curled up close to the bags of salt and drew the flowing end of a tarpaulin over his body. he pillowed his head on a protruding bag and snuggled very near to the stack. the pier was hard, but he had slept on hard beds before and the barrier of salt broke the wind's force. the tarpaulin, of heavy duck, made a warm blanket. in spite of the odds he faced, ramsay felt a wonderful sense of well-being and peace. he went quietly to sleep. when he awakened, soft gray dawn was stealing like a fawn out of the summer sky. three points, not yet awake, slumbered in the dim morning. ramsay crawled out from beneath the tarpaulin and rose to look at the town. nobody gave up any battles; but nobody knocked his head against a stone wall or strove against hopeless odds. even the little black horse had not done that. he might just as well see things as they were. devil chad ruled three points and, with his present resources, ramsay could not fight devil chad. but it was certain that chad could not rule all of milwaukee, too, and milwaukee would need workers. he could go back there, get a job and plan his future after he had it. a sudden inspiration seemed to fall right out of the brightening sky. the van hoovens! pieter van hooven had told him to come back should he fail to find what he expected in three points, and pierre ledou had assured him that devil chad did not walk so freely among the farmers and fishermen. maybe pieter could give him a job, at least something that would offer security until he was able to get himself oriented; and if he could, ramsay wanted to stay in this part of the country. it was better than milwaukee. briskly he left the pier and struck down the sand beach. now that he had decided to take this step, he felt lighter and happier. maybe he would and maybe he would not have liked working in the tannery, even if that had been ruled by some other man than devil chad, but he knew that he would like the van hoovens and their way of life. he moved fast, staying far enough up on the beach so he need not step in wet sand but near enough the water so he could walk on sun-baked sand over which high water had already rolled. that was packed hard, almost to the consistency of concrete. the sun was well up when he came again to the van hooven's pleasant home. resolutely he walked up and knocked on the back door. a second later it opened, and marta van hooven flashed a warm smile of welcome. "oh! come in." pieter, who had already finished his milking and was now seated at the breakfast table, said, "hello." "hello," ramsay said. "i thought i'd stop in and see you on ..." he fumbled. "on my way back to milwaukee." pieter looked seriously at him. "you're not going to work in three points?" "no," ramsay said bluntly. "mr. chadbourne and i did not see eye to eye. in fact, three minutes after we met our fists were flying in each other's eyes." "you fought devil chad?" "i did, and got well-beaten." pieter said quietly, "some day somebody will kill him." "some day somebody might." "eat," pieter invited. he pushed a platter of eggs at the boy and forked a thick slice of home-cured ham onto his plate. then he placed the dish of yellow butter where ramsay could help himself and put a plate of feather-light fresh-baked rolls where he was able to reach it. marta came softly in from the kitchen with a bowl of cold milk. ramsay ate, primly at first, then gave way to his enormous appetite. pieter served him another slice of ham. the boy took two more eggs and another roll, which he spread lavishly with butter. sighing, unable to swallow another crumb, he pushed his plate back. pieter looked gravely at him. "do you have to go to milwaukee?" "no, i just thought i might find a job there." "you can," pieter assured him. "but if a job is what you want, a job is what i can give you. i can't pay you any money, at least until we have sold our fall crops, because we haven't any. but i can give you all you can eat, a good bed to sleep in, and i have some clothes that will fit you." ramsay said deliberately, "devil chad won't like you for that." "around here," and there was no air of braggadocio in pieter's words, "we don't much care what devil chad likes." ramsay looked hard at his host, and then the two young men grinned at each other. "you've got yourself a man," ramsay said. "what do we do first?" * * * * * hidden from the house by a jutting shoulder of land, ramsay stood beside the small lake on pieter van hooven's property and peeled off his clothes. all day long, interrupted in mid-morning by marta, who brought him a substantial lunch, at noon by a huge and delicious dinner and again in mid-afternoon with a lunch, he had toiled in pieter van hooven's sprouting corn. all day long the sun had beaten down and, though the lake shore was cool enough, a man doing hard physical labor could easily work up a sweat. but it was good. ramsay had felt the sun's rays penetrate to and warm the very marrow of his bones. in spite of the hard labor he had been doing, few times in his life had he felt as agile and supple and wholly alive as this. he plunged headlong into the lake and came up gasping. the water was cold, though not nearly as cold as the big lake; and after ramsay's body was adjusted to it, a delicious glow ran through his whole physical being. he dived again, then climbed up on the soft grass to let the lowering sun dry him before he put his clothes on. he dressed slowly, happily, and now all his cares were behind him. this was the place for him, and no longer did he have the slightest doubt that he was going to like everything about it. fresh and vigorous, the day's toil washed away, he walked slowly down to lake michigan and stared across it. supper in half an hour, pieter had said when he had advised ramsay to stop work and have a swim, and no more than half that time had elapsed. the rest could profitably be spent in just looking at this endlessly fascinating water. ramsay stared across the lake. more than ever it seemed a live creature and one of many moods. ramsay had seen it roaring-mad, and now he saw it gentle as a lamb. there was scarcely a ripple anywhere. absorbed in the lake, ramsay was aware of nothing else until a horse snorted very close to him. when he whirled, he knew that he had seen the same horse and rider before. it was the body-watcher, joe mannis, and he was riding the black-and-white horse which he had ridden when he had warned ramsay away from the drowned captain schultz and the deck hand. the huge cowboy hat tilted precariously on his head and the blue jeans, apparently unwashed in a good many months, clung tightly to his legs. thick black hair escaped from beneath the hat, and he looked ramsay up and down. "what are you doin' here?" "what's it to you?" "well, nothin' i expect. nothin' at all. but just don't bother me again when i'm workin' at my trade." "i won't," ramsay promised, "unless i have a couple of pistols, too." "just don't bother me when i'm workin' at my trade," the other repeated, "an' we'll get along fine." "you think so?" ramsay snapped. missing the challenge implied in ramsay's words, joe mannis trotted his horse up the sand beach toward three points. ramsay looked without interest at his retreating back. joe mannis was an unsavory man, he decided, but unlike devil chad, he was a stupid man. only when backed by his pistols would joe be much of a threat. ramsay pushed his drying hair back with his hands and went around to the rear of the van hooven house. that was also a custom, it seemed. formal visitors, if there were any, might enter by the front door; but everyone else went around to the rear. obviously the visitor who had arrived while ramsay bathed and stood on the shore, was not formal. he was a tall, gaunt man with a thin face and a hooked nose. except for a white shirt, the collar of which was adorned by a bright ribbon that could hardly be called a tie, from his stovepipe hat to his shoes he was dressed entirely in black. an outlandish rig, a four-wheeled cart with a fringed top supported on four posts, stood in the yard. its curtains were rolled up, and the cart seemed to contain everything from wash tubs to pins. pieter and the stranger were unhitching a gray horse that stood patiently between the cart's shafts. pieter called the boy over, "ramsay, this is mr. hammersly." mr. hammersly, so-called, turned and thrust forth a huge hand. "tradin' jack," he amended. "tradin' jack hammersly. you need anythin', i got it. fairer prices as you'll find in three points, chicago, or milwaukee. need a box of candy for that girl of yours, ramsay?" "i haven't any girl," ramsay said. "you'll have one," tradin' jack declared. "every young buck like you needs a pert doe. can't get along without 'em, i always say. yup, you'll have one. when you get one, remember tradin' jack." "i will," ramsay promised. while tradin' jack washed up at the stand beside the back door, pieter led the gray horse to the barn, stripped it of its harness and loosed it with the little black horse. the two animals touched friendly noses. pieter returned, and all three went in to the groaning table which marta had ready. it seemed a natural thing here, ramsay observed, to expect all passing wayfarers to share whatever there was to be had. gracefully tradin' jack lifted the tails of his long black coat and sat down. "left milwaukee day before yesterday," he said. "stopped off to see the blounts, down at blounts' landin'...." marta and pieter van hooven gave rapt attention, and even ramsay found himself interested. aside from being a trader, it appeared that tradin' jack hammersly was also a walking newspaper. he knew everything about everybody between three points and milwaukee, and between milwaukee and kenosha. endlessly he related tales of new babies, new weddings and new engagements. tradin' jack knew that wilhelm schmidt's horse had the colic but probably would recover, and that mrs. darmstedt, that would be the wife of pete darmstedt, had shot a black bear right in her own front yard. there was nothing about the people he did not know and not much that he was unwilling to tell. finished, he got down to business. "any eggs for me, marta?" "twenty dozen," she said, "all fresh." "fourteen cents a dozen," tradin' jack said promptly. "yaah," marta, too, was bargaining now, "i can get that in three points." "take it in trade an' i'll allow you fifteen," tradin' jack said. "got to keep my customers sweet." before he went to bed tradin' jack arranged with pieter to have a butchered pig ready for him when he returned from three points the day after tomorrow. two and a half cents a pound he would pay, or two and three-quarters if pieter would take it in trade. he left with the van hoovens a tempting array of calico, ribbons, needles, pins, a new axe and hammer, a box of nails and other things which were always useful and always needed. the next morning ramsay roused himself out of bed at dawn to find tradin' jack already gone. he had sensed the storm that was approaching, pieter said, and, if possible, he wanted to get into three points before it struck. ramsay felt a strange uneasiness and an unrest. going outside, he saw that yesterday's blue skies had given way to ominous masses of gray clouds. his uneasiness mounted. something terrible was being brewed within the giant lake, and shortly it would erupt. a strong wind sent high waves leaping up onto the shore. they fell back, only to be replaced with more waves. ramsay shuddered. if there was terror in this, there was also grandeur. the lake, angered, was a fearful and wonderful spectacle. it was a gargantuan thing which seemed to writhe in an agony which, somehow, was created by itself. a few drops of rain pattered down. the wind blew harder. pieter and ramsay went to the barn to repair tools, and neither spoke as they stared through the barn's open door. the waves were raging now, launching endless attacks on the shore and always rolling back. suddenly ramsay leaped to his feet and stifled a cry. far out in the lake's surging gray masses he thought that he had seen something pure white. but he could not be sure. a moment later he saw it again. a sail! then he was able clearly to identify a little peanut shell of a boat. she was the _spray_, and she was in serious trouble. chapter five _rescue_ a fresh gust of wind sent the waves leaping higher, and for a moment only the furious lake could be seen. ramsay rose, and pieter rose beside him; and both went to the barn door. they stood alert, still not speaking and not even certain of what they had seen. then they saw it again. beyond any possible doubt it was the _spray_, and she was working valiantly to get into shore. ramsay swallowed a lump in his throat. he had first seen the _spray_ as a dancing bit of gaiety on a lake as stormy as this one, and then she had seemed so sure of herself and so capable. now she was like a shot-wounded duck which, no longer able to rise in graceful flight, must lie on the water and flutter desperate wings. for another tense moment ramsay and pieter stood side by side. by inches the _spray_ was fighting her way toward shore, but a glance was sufficient to reveal the tremendous odds against her ever making safety. still, even in this terrible dilemma, there was a spirit about her which the _holter_ never had and never could have. the two men on the _spray_--and did not the crazy dutch fisherman usually carry a crew of four?--seemed to be working calmly and easily. there was, from this distance, no trace of the near-panic that had reigned when the _holter_ went down. ramsay knew a moment's intense gratification. this was part of the dream, part of the picture he had engraved in his heart when he first saw the _spray_ and her skipper. when they challenged the lake, they accepted it in all its aspects. now they were behaving as all fishermen should behave. before they could even begin to follow their trade they must make an unbreakable pact with their fortune on the water, be it good or bad. then the trance was broken. out on the lake, within sight of pieter and ramsay, men were about to die. they must not die if there was any way to help them. as though their eyes were guided by one common impulse, both men looked toward pieter's small boat. it was a clumsy craft, strongly-built of heavy timbers which pieter himself had hand-sawed in his spare time. usually, when pieter wasn't using the boat, it was pulled high enough on the beach so storm-driven battering rams of waves could not touch it, and so it was now. side by side, with no need to speak, pieter and ramsay left the barn and raced toward the boat. wind-driven rain soaked their clothing before they had gone ten feet, but they paid no attention to it. kneeling, one on either side of the fourteen-foot boat, they strove to push it back into the lake. pieter shouted to make himself heard above the roar of the wind and the smashing waves. "wait!" ramsay stopped pushing while pieter took the long oars out of their locks and laid them lengthwise in the boat. the boy nodded approvingly. as things were, it seemed all but impossible to launch the boat. if they launched it and lost an oar in the high seas, they were doomed to disaster, anyhow. "now!" pieter shouted. the boat scraped a deep furrow in the wet sand as, with a concerted effort, they pushed it backwards. not looking at the savage combers, ramsay gave all his attention to the boat. they would have to work with all possible speed to get it into the lake and the oars in place, because the waves were rising to enormous heights now. he felt the boat's square stern touch water. then an irresistible giant, a force that would bear no interference, took hold and shoved the little craft almost as far up on the beach as it had been when they tried to launch it. leaving the boat half-filled with water, the smashing wave washed away from the wet sand. ramsay stood erect to catch his breath. they had given all their strength to backing the boat into the lake, and as they were about to succeed it had been plucked from their hands as easily as a strong man might snatch a flower from the hands of a baby. he glanced out across the water to assure himself that the _spray_ was still floating, then looked desperately at pieter. "nose first!" pieter said. "turn it around!" he shouted to make himself heard, but there was about him an almost maddening calmness as he worked. ramsay restrained his impatience. they must not lose a second's time; but if they were going to do this at all, it must be done exactly right. both on one side of the boat, they raised it to let the water spill out. in spite of his drenched clothing and the cold air that blew in from the lake, ramsay was sweating. pieter's boat had been built by a farmer, not a fisherman. it was all right on a calm day when pieter wanted to go fishing, but certainly it had never been built to weather storms. so heavy was the craft that the combined strength of two men was needed to tip the water from it. they let the boat drop heavily back on its side, and the oars fell out. still calmly, refusing to become excited, pieter picked them up and placed them in the oar locks. again ramsay understood. both men knew this for a furious storm but both had underestimated its fury. at the best, should they be able to get the boat into the lake, they would have a split second to float her and the oars had to be ready. it was better to take a chance on losing an oar than to have the boat driven back onto the beach. kneeling, ramsay felt his muscles stand out like stretched cords as he gave every ounce of strength to turning the boat around. he was sweating again--and short of breath. only the pressing urgency and the great need for immediate action gave him the strength to continue. then the craft seemed to move a little easier, and ramsay glanced around to see marta working beside them. noting them from the house, and understanding their mission, she had thrown a shawl about her shoulders and raced out to help. with almost maddening slowness the boat turned until its curved nose faced the lake. ramsay on one side and pieter on the other slid it down the wet sand toward the water. the boy bit his lip fiercely to help keep control of himself. nothing must go amiss here, and a wrong or panic-stricken move could mean disaster. because this launching demanded machine-like precision, ramsay fought to control the fire in his brain. carefully he thought out each exact step. get the boat into the lake until it floated. then leap in beside pieter, grab an oar and time his strokes to pieter's. fight their way out to the stricken _spray_ and rescue those aboard her. it seemed a simple matter, but never before in his whole life had ramsay faced anything more complex. it couldn't be done, his mind said, while at the same time something else told him that it could and must be done. he glanced around and curiously, as though the picture were registering somewhere other than in his own eyes, he saw marta van hooven. she was standing at the edge of the lake, her dress and shawl sodden-wet and her rain-soaked blond hair clinging like a seal's fur to her head and shoulders. one hand covered her mouth, as though to stifle a cry that was half-born there, and in her eyes were a great pleading and a great prayer as she watched her husband. but the cry did not find life. she uttered no sound. while she did not want pieter to go, at the same time she knew that he must. only if help came did anyone left alive on the _spray_ have even a faint chance of staying alive. then they were in the lake, and a mighty wave burst like a water-filled bomb about them. it staggered ramsay and sent him reeling, but it did not unnerve him. because he had practised in his own imagination what he must do from here on in, he could do it. he felt cold water creeping about his shoes and then up around his knees. the boat which they had been dragging steadied itself as they reached water in which it could float. through the blinding spray that lashed at them ramsay looked across at pieter. he saw him only indistinctly, but it was as though they read each other's thoughts. at exactly the same moment they flung themselves into opposite sides of the rower's seat and each grabbed an oar. the boy bent his back to the man-killing job of rowing. the boat was sluggish, and again half-filled with water. but it floated, and as soon as they were free of the mighty waves that smashed against the beach it floated a little more easily. ramsay looked back across the steel-gray turmoil to see the van hooven farm, and marta still on the shore. then he returned all his attention to the task at hand. the lake was an insane thing, bent on destruction. they went into the trough of a wave and rose on the next one. ramsay risked a fleeting backward glance to see the _spray_, much nearer the shore and still afloat. suddenly they were in an almost-calm stretch of water. ramsay felt cold fear run up and down his spine. he had met this on the sinking _holter_, and now here it was again. almost fearfully he glanced sidewise at pieter, but he could not speak because the screaming wind would have drowned his words as soon as he uttered them. his eyes grew big. just behind, and again on the right side, an apparition drifted out of the depths. it was a ghost figure, a thing born of nightmares. ramsay gasped. the white sturgeon nosed to the surface, drifted lazily for a moment and disappeared back into the watery depths out of which it had come. ramsay risked a sidewise glance at pieter, whose face remained undisturbed, and he swallowed the lump in his own throat. sailors might fear the white sturgeon, but if pieter did, he was not showing his fear. the boy told himself again that the sturgeon was a fish, nothing more or less than a great fish which, through some freak of nature, was colored white. but it did seem to appear only when death and destruction stalked the lake. he forced such thoughts from his mind. they were again in storm-lashed water, striving to keep their boat straight and headed toward the _spray_. vast waves bore down upon them, plunging the little craft into their cold troughs and then shooting it up as though it were a plaything. from the crest of the waves ramsay could still see the _spray_. he worried. now there seemed to be only one man aboard her. there was a sharp, sickening crack and the sound of splintering wood, that rose above the roar of the wind and the surge of the waves. the boat slewed sideways, and for the first time pieter van hooven's face betrayed emotion. he brought in the stump of oar remaining in his hand and, at the risk of upsetting the little boat, leaned across the seat to snatch ramsay's oar from its lock. with that in his hand, he made a precarious way to the stern. he thrust the oar over the rear seat, trying to use it as a rudder, and the boy strove to overcome the fear he felt. the white sturgeon, the sailors' superstition said, always brought disaster. if you see it, the little deck hand had told ramsay, you can start praying right afterwards. for one terror-filled moment their predictions seemed correct. twice ramsay had seen the white sturgeon; each time he had been in immediate danger of death. then superstition subsided and reason came back to his aid. crouching in the back seat, with only one oar, pieter van hooven was doing his best to fight the angry lake. though he was a farmer, obviously he knew something of seamanship. for a brief moment, just long enough to keep from capsizing, he kept the little boat headed into the onrushing waves. when he turned it, he did so skilfully. working the oar only with the strength in his hard-muscled arms, he headed back towards shore. a mighty wave smashed the stern, throwing cold water over them and across the tiny craft. ramsay moved from side to side, doing all he could to help pieter by shifting his weight to where it was needed most. the boat was three-quarters filled with water. never made for a heavy sea, now it was an almost dead thing. but so strong were the waves and so powerful the wind, that they were driven at almost motor speed back into the beach. ramsay had one glimpse of marta. pieter lost the little control he had. turning sidewise, the boat lifted like a matchstick on the crest of a giant wave and spun dizzily down into the trough. it was lifted again, and just before it turned over ramsay flung himself clear. as he did, he saw pieter go over with him. he dived as deeply as he could, knowing that the boat would come crashing down and knowing also that it would kill him if it struck him on the head. far into the lake he went, swimming under water and groping his way. he surfaced to see the craft to one side and a bobbing object, which he thought was the head of pieter van hooven. a second later a tremendous wave deposited him on the sandy beach. he lay gasping, all the breath knocked out of him, and he wished desperately to get out of the path of the waves that were breaking over him. but it seemed impossible to move. his mind urged him to go, but he lacked the physical strength to obey. then he felt a pair of hands in his armpits, and his body was dragged over the scraping sand. ramsay looked up to see the frightened face of marta van hooven. "can you move?" she pleaded. "gi--give me a minute!" for what seemed an interminable time, but could not have been more than twenty seconds, ramsay lay still. he turned over so that he lay face down, and lifted himself with his arms. his legs and feet were made of jelly. vaguely he was aware of marta and pieter van hooven, one on each side, lifting him to his feet. a second later his strength returned. keening in from the lake, the wind made him stagger backwards. reaching mountainous heights, the breaking waves shattered themselves far up on the beach. ramsay looked across them. about two hundred yards out, the _spray_ was completely crippled. trailing from her broken mast, the sail bled water into the angry lake. down at the bows, the fisherman's boat seemed hung up on a rock or reef. every second wave that washed in broke completely over her and hid her from view. but the single man remaining on board still worked calmly with the broken half of an oar, to free the _spray_ from her prison. ramsay allowed himself another split second. the entire dream was coming true. there were some men who, to the last, could meet the challenge of the lake with grace and spirit. the man on the _spray_, identified even at this distance as hans van doorst, had not given up. the boy whirled on pieter van hooven. "a coil of rope!" he ejaculated. without waiting to see whether or not pieter followed his instructions, he raced for the barn. snatching a bridle from its wooden peg, he went more slowly toward the corral where the little black horse was confined. this had happened once before and it might happen again. a man's strength was as nothing in the raging lake, but a horse was many times as strong as a man. the black horse had brought him safely in when all the others had drowned. the little horse arched his neck and flicked his ears when his young friend approached and patted him. "easy," ramsay said reassuringly. "take it easy, black." the little horse rested his head over the boy's shoulder for a moment, then the latter stepped back to slip the bit into black's mouth, put the bridle over his ears and buckle the throat latch. the horse followed willingly behind him as he pushed the corral's gate aside. he mounted, and black reared and pranced, just to prove that he could. ramsay tried not to look at the lake, but he couldn't help looking. when he did, very lonely in the gray waves, he saw the reef- or rock-bound _spray_. the lone fisherman still could be seen, working to free his craft. ramsay leaned forward to pat the little horse on the neck. "we can do it," he murmured. "let's prove it." he took the bridle reins in his hand and trotted black toward the foaming lake. pieter, his eyes grave, tossed him a coil of half-inch rope. ramsay had one glimpse of marta's anguished face. he slipped the coil of rope over his shoulder and did not look back. as they approached the lake, the horse hesitated, to paw the sand with a front hoof. he looked around to eye the rider on his back, and again ramsay leaned forward. "all right," he said. "go on." the horse accepted his words but, more than that, his confidence. guided by the bridle's touch, he walked willingly into the pounding lake. another water bomb exploded about them. they submerged, but black came up swimming strongly. ramsay kept soft fingers on the bridle reins, not wanting to exert any pressure or do anything else that might divert the horse from the job at hand. tossing his head, black sneezed to empty his nose of water that had washed into it. he was timing himself capably and almost perfectly to meet the waves at their place of least resistance, and he rose and fell with them. from the crests ramsay could see the _spray_. from the troughs he could see nothing. a lump rose in his throat. the _spray_ was indeed sadly wounded. only part of her stern showed above water. hans van doorst still worked with a broken oar to free his boat, and as soon as he came near enough ramsay knew that he had been right. the dutch fisherman had been one with the lake when ramsay first saw him, and he was one with it now. unafraid, he fought the lake as gracefully as a swordsman. perched on the broken stump of mast, the sea gull fluttered his wings and clicked his mandibles. ramsay gauged the situation as precisely as he could. if he could throw his rope over the stranded _spray_, the little horse might be able to pull it from its anchor and back to shore. ramsay saw hans van doorst turn to watch him. the fisherman waved a friendly hand. still guiding black lightly, imposing no undue strain on the reins or bit, ramsay steered him across the _spray's_ sunken prow. he let the reins hang slackly on the horse's neck and took the coil of rope from his shoulder. as precisely as he could, he cast and watched the rope snake through the air. a sick feeling arose in the pit of his stomach and he moaned audibly. he had calculated the distance correctly but he had not allowed for the strength of the wind. the rope missed hans van doorst's outstretched hands by two feet and fell into the angry lake. of his own volition, black turned back toward shore. ramsay saw the squawking sea gull bounce a couple of feet into the air and spread his long wings. grasping the reins, for the first time the boy used strength as he strove to turn the horse back. he glanced over his shoulder to see what might be done next, and gasped. hans van doorst had gone to the raised stern of his wrecked boat to give himself a running start, and as ramsay looked, he dived. leaping as far as possible from the _spray_ to avoid striking the rock, he hurled himself into the storm-lashed lake, straight at his would-be rescuers. for a few seconds that seemed like hours, he disappeared into the churning depths, but when he surfaced he was squarely behind ramsay and he used both hands to grasp the horse's tail. black turned back toward shore. he swam more strongly now because he was going with the wind instead of against it, and his double burden did not seem unduly heavy. ramsay saw pieter and marta van hooven, pieter's hand protectingly over his wife's shoulder, as they waited to see what would happen. the last wave burst around them and they were back on shore. instantly ramsay slid from the little horse's back and looked around. a nausea seized him. hans van doorst was no longer in sight. ramsay had tried and failed. he glanced toward the _spray_, as though he expected to see the crazy dutch fisherman still there, and knew only that waves were smashing the boat into kindling wood. then, as though he had literally risen from the lake, hans van doorst picked himself up from the wreckage of a breaking wave and walked ashore. his tame sea gull fluttered out of the sky to alight on its master's shoulder. the dutchman reached up to stroke his pet as he looked at pieter and ramsay. "none but me and captain klaus?" he asked. "none, hans," pieter said. for a moment an infinite sadness, a melancholy born thousands of years ago in the first fisherman who had seen his mates lost, pervaded the dutchman. but it was only for a moment. pieter and ramsay walked to his side and offered their assistance. he declined it. "i'll walk," he said. ramsay felt a great warmth for and a vast sympathy with this man who, while daring all and losing all, could remain so very human. marta hovered solicitously near as they all went up to the house and wore their dripping clothes into her immaculate kitchen. hans van doorst sat down, tried to fold his arms across his chest, and winced. "you're hurt!" marta cried. "it is nothing." the dutch fisherman looked at the three. "it happened out on the lake. we struck something, i do not know what. perhaps the half-submerged hull of a sunken ship. then we were in trouble." marta was stooping beside him, gently unbuttoning his soaking-wet shirt. hans van doorst looked fondly down at her wet and bedraggled hair, and he offered no protest as his upper body was bared. there was a vast, ugly scar on the right side of his chest, and when marta touched him there his ribs moved. the dutchman sat very straight in his chair. though he must have felt pain, he showed none. ramsay and pieter stood aside while marta worked expertly. ripping one of her snow-white sheets into strips, she wound a bandage tightly around hans van doorst's broken ribs. ramsay and pieter looked significantly at each other. such an injury _might_ have resulted when wind or a heavy wave flung the fisherman against something. probably it had happened when hans flung himself forward in an effort to rescue a shipmate. marta finished her bandaging and stepped back. "you rest now." he grinned at her. "fishermen have no time for rest." "do as she says, hans," pieter urged. "come," said marta. she went to a bedroom, opened the door and waited expectantly. hans van doorst spread eloquent hands. "who can argue with a woman?" he asked. "especially a dutch woman?" he rose, went into the room, and closed the door behind him. ten minutes later, marta opened the door a crack and peeked in. she entered, and came out with hans van doorst's clothing. "he sleeps," she announced. "like a man worn out he sleeps." ramsay changed his wet clothes for some dry ones pieter had given him and went out to catch black. from the house's ridge pole, captain klaus, hans van doorst's tame sea gull, squawked at him. ramsay grinned back, walked up to the little horse, rubbed him down, and put him back in the corral. he did the rest of his chores, and when he went into the house for dinner hans van doorst was seated at the table. "i told him!" marta scolded. "i told him to stay in bed and i would bring him his food. but can i talk reason to a dutchman?" "marta," hans van doorst said softly, "there is fishing to be done." eager interest glowed in pieter's eyes. "are you going again, hans?" "i am a fisherman." "you are crazy," marta corrected. "one day you will kill yourself on that lake." again the sadness, the inborn melancholy, sat like a mask on the dutch fisherman. but only for a moment. "marta," he said, "fishermen do not die in bed." chapter six _new venture_ ramsay stirred sleepily and raised a restless hand to shield his eyes from the morning sun. almost the whole night through, until the first waking birds had begun to chatter just outside his window, he had lain restlessly awake. just thinking of hans van doorst, and fishing, had not permitted him to sleep. now, with the sun high, he was at last deep in slumber. ramsay could not know that pieter had arisen shortly after the first birds and had the milking all finished, or that hans van doorst sat in the kitchen, eating the hearty breakfast which marta had prepared for him. he knew only that he seemed to be hearing strange sounds. there were throaty chucklings and gurglings and low-pitched laughter, and all of it was punctuated by raucous squawks. troubled, ramsay rolled over in bed and covered his head with the quilt. even that did not shut out the sounds, and finally he came fully awake. sleepy-eyed, tousle-haired, he sat up in bed. for a moment he could not define the sounds, which seemed to originate very near the roof of the house, and he was puzzled. then he identified the various noises a sea gull makes. ramsay slipped out of bed, pushed the double windows open, and looked into a calm morning. there was a rustle of wings overhead and a flutter of feathers. captain klaus took strong wing to circle the house. he swung back to alight on the window ledge, and tilted his head sidewise while he regarded ramsay with bright, intelligent eyes. "_qu-uark!_" he chattered. ramsay grinned, but when he put out a hand to touch him captain klaus again took flight and sailed down to the now-calm lake. he alighted on the shore, folded his wings across his back, and walked down the beach until he found a storm-killed perch. with the fish in his bill, he flew back to the house's ridge-pole to eat his breakfast while he awaited the reappearance of hans van doorst. a little bit embarrassed, ramsay dressed hurriedly. the working day in this country began with dawn and ended with dark. everything that needed doing--and there was much to be done--had to be crowded into such daylight as there was, and there was never enough. hurrying down the steps leading to the kitchen, he saw hans van doorst at the table. marta greeted him pleasantly, "good morning." "good morning," ramsay replied. "i overslept! i didn't mean to. why didn't somebody call me?" "yaah!" marta laughed. "pieter said not to. you earned your sleep, pieter said. sit down with hans and have some breakfast." hans said, "men who are not hungry are sick. sit down." ramsay sat, and felt a free and easy sense of comradeship, as though he and the dutch fisherman had something in common. they felt alike and thought alike. hans van doorst had thanked ramsay with his eyes for rescuing him, but not once had he spoken of it and not once had he mentioned the wreck of the _spray_. the boy was grateful for that; he knew that he would be embarrassed if his part in yesterday's incident were brought into the limelight. marta busied herself at the big wood-burning stove, and ramsay speculated on the difficulties involved in just getting such a stove into this country. marta laughed. "while i make you the breakfast, you listen to the crazy tales the crazy fisherman tells you." hans turned his twinkling eyes on ramsay. "marta is a good girl," he said. "a good dutch girl. she thinks all men are crazy." "they all are," marta said. "especially you. what you need is a good farm and stay away from that wild lake." "farms and me wouldn't get along, marta." hans laughed. "i told you i'm a fisherman." "yaah? you lost everything with the _spray_. how are you going to go fishing again?" hans spread his two powerful hands. "these are what i had when i started. these are what i have now." "you need money, too. money for nets, money for ..." the door opened and pieter came in for breakfast. hanging his light jacket on a wooden peg in the hallway, he took his seat at the table. "why does hans need so much money?" he asked. "he says he's going fishing again." marta sniffed. "i've been telling him that he should get a farm, and we can put him up until he gets one, and ..." "are you really going fishing?" pieter broke in. "that i am. i'm a fisherman. now look, pieter, you get up at dawn to milk your cows. no? to be sure, you get all the milk you can drink; but if you're lucky, tradin' jack hammersly gives you maybe half of what your butter's worth. all winter long and all summer long you work for those cows. a fisherman, now, he works for four months, just four. . . ." pieter said, "it sounds good!" "pieter!" marta broke in sharply. "you are _not_ going fishing!" pieter wriggled uncomfortably. "well," he said, "i can at least listen to what the man says, can't i?" "one haul of the nets," hans continued, "and maybe one thousand, maybe two thousand pounds of whitefish. never less than five hundred. for that you get six cents a pound in the chicago market. you don't earn that on your farm, and besides, fishing is a lot more fun. a smart dutchman don't have to tend cows." "_uaah!_" pieter breathed. "pieter!" marta said. ramsay listened, dazzled by the prospects of a fisherman's life as compared to any future a farmer might have. determinedly marta brought a huge dish of wheat cakes and sausage over and thumped it firmly down on the table. "eat!" she commanded. the three gave all their attention to the food, and they did not speak while eating. then hans pushed his chair back. "if i am going to fish again, i must start," he announced. "first i will go down and see if there is any salvage." "we'll help you!" pieter exclaimed. "my boat was not badly smashed. a little work and it will be good as new." "pieter!" marta said. "you are not going fishing!" "now i ask you," pieter said plaintively, "is helping a man pick up his own property, his very own property, is that fishing? could anyone even think it was fishing? no. come on." the three left the kitchen and walked down to the lake. calm after the storm that had raged across it, only little waves were washing in. ramsay looked out at the rock, as though half expecting to see the _spray_ still there, and saw nothing. pieter gave a triumphant little exclamation and waded into shallow water to pick up something that bobbed back and forth. it was the carved valkyrie maiden that had been the _spray's_ figurehead. exquisitely and almost perfectly hand-carved, the wooden statue leaned forward, as though she would embrace the whole lake to her bosom. hans van doorst's eyes were soft as he took it from pieter. "my sweetheart!" he murmured. captain klaus winged down from the ridge pole of the house to alight near them. clucking softly to himself, happy because hans was once more with him, he followed the three men down the beach. ramsay found a coil of rope, then another, and farther on was the _spray's_ torn sail. ramsay pointed out onto the lake. "about there is where we saw the white sturgeon," he said. "i know," hans van doorst murmured. "we saw him a half-dozen times." ramsay looked at him, puzzled. then, "the sailors told me he always brings bad luck." "the sailors!" hans scoffed. "they know nothing about anything except maybe how to stuff themselves with good whitefish that the fishermen bring them! the white sturgeon noses his way to the top when a storm comes, so he is bad luck? do not believe it! he is good luck! he comes to the top so that he may show fishermen the way back to shore!" ramsay grinned appreciatively. this, in spite of the fact that the dutch fisherman's idea of the white sturgeon bringing good luck was as superstitious as the sailors' notion that he always brought bad, fitted in. it was what hans should have said. "how big is that sturgeon?" ramsay asked. "the grandfather of all lake fish," hans van doorst asserted solemnly. "have you not noticed that, like all grandfathers, he is white? in truth, i have never seen a bigger fish anywhere." "another coil of rope!" pieter said, pouncing on it. hans, who had grinned happily with each new find, did not even look around. ramsay looked at him questioningly. anything but stolid, the dutch fisherman had been bubbling over at the prospect of going fishing again. now he seemed melancholy, immersed within himself, and his whole attention was given to the lake. ramsay followed his gaze, but saw little. true, a vast number of small aquatic worms had been washed ashore by the pounding waves. there must have been countless millions of them, so many that they formed a living carpet as far up the beach as the waves had washed. the wriggling, writhing mass was now disentangling itself, and the worms that could were crawling back into the lake. a number of sea gulls and a number of land birds were gorging themselves, and new birds arrived by the flock. they scarcely made a dent in the multitude of worms. ramsay looked again at hans van doorst. "never, never!" the fisherman breathed. pieter, too, swung to look curiously at him. "what's the matter, hans?" "i went on the lake when i was a boy of thirteen," hans van doorst said. "that was fourteen years ago, in . i thought i had seen much, but never have i seen this!" "what?" ramsay asked impatiently. "look around you," hans said. "what do you see?" "worms." "not worms! food for whitefish! with these millions washed up, can you not imagine the vast amount remaining in the water? we are all rich men!" "you think so?" pieter queried. "there is no doubt of it! the whitefish go where their food is! there must be countless tons of whitefish here at your very door step, and here is where we shall fish!" "do whitefish eat only worms?" ramsay asked. "no. they feed on other things, too, notably their own spawn or that of other fish. but enough of this idle talk! i must have a net so we can start fishing at once! pieter, i would borrow your horse and cart!" "the cart you may have," pieter said. "the horse belongs to ramsay." "go ahead and take him," ramsay urged. hans tripped like a dancer to the barn, caught the little horse, and backed him between the shafts of pieter's two-wheeled cart. bubbling like a boiling kettle, entirely happy, he started at a fast trot up the sand beach to three points. with a startled squawk, captain klaus hurried to catch up. the tame sea gull settled affectionately on the rim of the cart's seat. as ramsay watched him go, he felt a vast envy of the light-hearted fisherman. if ever he could go away like that, he thought, he would have lived life at its fullest. not until he looked around did he discover that pieter was watching too, and his eyes were wistful. "there is work to be done!" marta called. they flushed and walked towards the barnyard, where marta was tending her poultry. geese, chickens and ducks swarmed around her and pigeons alighted on her shoulders. she kept her eyes on the men. as ramsay and pieter cleaned the cowbarn, both remained strangely silent. both thought of the dutch fisherman. then pieter, who had promised to have a dressed pig ready for tradin' jack hammersly, started honing a razor edge on his butchering tools. ramsay picked up a hoe, preparatory to returning to the corn-patch. "you think he'll get a net?" pieter asked. "i hope so!" moodily, scarcely seeing or knowing what he was doing, ramsay chopped at weeds that had stolen a home in the growing corn. the work suddenly lacked any flavor whatever. millions of worms, whitefish food, washed up on the beach and the bay in front of pieter's swarming with whitefish! that's what the dutch fisherman had said. marta brought his mid-morning lunch, and her eyes were troubled. "do you think hans will get what he wants?" she asked. "i don't know. marta, why don't you want pieter to go fishing?" "you heard what he said. last night he said it. fishermen do not die in bed. those were his words." "just talk. the lake's safe enough." "yaah? is that why joe mannis can make more money than anybody else around here, just watchin' bodies? aah! i worry about my man!" ramsay said gently, "don't worry, marta." marta returned to the house and ramsay continued working. in back of the barn pieter had his butchered pig strung up on a block and tackle, and the two men looked at each other. both were waiting for hans van doorst to return. about a half-hour before noon captain klaus soared back to his accustomed place on the house's ridge pole. a moment later the little black horse appeared on the beach, and hans drove to the barn. ramsay and pieter, meeting him, stifled their astonishment. when hans left them, to all outward appearances he had been a normal person. now blood had dried on his nose and his right eye was puffy and streaked with color. anger seethed within him. "there is no honor any more!" he said bitterly. "and men are not men!" "what happened?" ramsay inquired. "what happened? i went to three points to get us a pound net! carefully did i explain to that frog-mouthed fontan, whose wife knits the best pound nets on lake michigan, what i wanted. i know pound nets cost five hundred dollars, but i was very careful to prove that we have untold riches just waiting to be caught! as soon as we made some catches, i said, we would pay him his money, plus a bonus for his trouble. fontan became abusive." "then what?" pieter said. "he hit me twice. because of these thrice-cursed broken ribs i cannot move as swiftly as i should. then i hit him once, and the last i saw of him he was lying on one of his wife's pound nets. after that came the constable who, as everybody knows, is merely another one of devil chad's playthings, and said he would put me in jail. it was necessary to hit the constable, too." hans van doorst leaned against the side of the barn, glumly lost in his own bitter thoughts. coming from the house to meet hans and sensing the men's moodiness, marta fell silent beside her husband. ramsay unhitched the little black horse, put him back into the corral, and hung the harness on its wooden pegs. after five minutes, pieter van hooven broke the thick silence. "i do not know whether or not it will be any good, perhaps not. but last year a fisherman came here in a very small boat. he was going to three points, he said, to get himself a larger boat and he had to make time. i do not know what happened to him, for he never came back and i have not seen him since. probably joe mannis got him. but before he took his leave he asked me to store for him a box of nets and ..." "a box of nets!" hans van doorst's melancholy left him like a wind-blown puff of feathers. he put an almost passionate arm about pieter's shoulders. "all is lost! all is gone! then this--this miracle worker! he talks of a box of nets! tell me, pieter! tell me it is still there!" "it must be, for it was never taken away," pieter said. "then let us get it! let us get and look at it before i faint with excitement!" pieter and hans disappeared in the barn, and a moment later they reappeared with a long, deep wooden box between them. having lain in the barn for a year, the box and its contents were thick with dust and spiders had woven their own gossamer nets everywhere. hans van doorst patted the dust away. he looked with ecstatic eyes, and he unfolded a few feet of the net. ramsay saw that it was similar to the gill net insofar as it had stones--sinkers--on one side and a place for floats on the other. made of sixteen-thread twine, the net had a three-inch mesh. "a seine," hans van doorst pronounced, "and a well-made seine, though it was not made in two rivers. it was brought here by one of the ohio fishermen, for that is the way they tie their meshes. let us see some more. i would say that it is about eight hundred feet long. that is not ample; we still need good pound nets, but with it we may again go fishing. help me, pieter." pieter and hans dragged the box to a small tree, tied one end of the seine to the tree's trunk, and began to unwind the net toward another little tree. ramsay saw how shrewdly the dutch fisherman had guessed. the trees, within a few feet one way or the other, were just about eight hundred feet apart and hans van doorst tied the other end of the seine to the far tree. he stood still, a small happy grin lighting his face, and looked at their discovery. slowly, with ramsay, marta and pieter trailing him, he started to walk the length of the seine as it lay on the ground. he kept his eyes downward, and as he walked along he talked almost to himself. "a good seine, yes, a good seine, but it has received hard use. here is almost five feet where it scraped among sharp rocks, and the mesh is worn. under a heavy load of fish, it will break. that hole was made by a sunken log or other object, for you can see that it is a clean tear. this one was made by a huge fish, probably a sturgeon, for just see how the mesh is mangled where he lunged time after time against it. now this . . ." slowly, missing no inch of the seine, he traveled the length of it, and as he traveled he marked every hole and weak spot by telling himself about it. reaching the end, he stood nervously tapping a finger against his forehead. "my hands are more accustomed to pulling seines than mending them," he told the three. "still, if we are to make the catch we can make, this seine must be mended. i will try to mend it." "i worked on a net in three points!" ramsay said eagerly. "i stayed for a while with pierre ledou, and because there was nothing else to kill time, i helped madame ledou knit a gill net! this cannot be too different!" "you!" for a moment ramsay thought hans was going to kiss him. "so! everything works our way! yaah? you fix the seine!" his face fell. "no. we must have new twine. now where will i get it?" "i have some," marta spoke up. "good linen twine, easily a match for anything in this seine." "and you would give it?" pieter asked incredulously. marta shrugged. "you're going fishing, anyway, and i'm going with you. men always want all the fun." the smile hans turned on her was rare. "a good dutch girl," he said. "thank you, marta." pieter and hans cut tripods--three poles strung together at the top to form a standard--and at necessary intervals raised the seine to them so that it was completely off the ground. like a huge tennis net, broken only by the tripods, it stretched between the two trees. ramsay stood beside it with a one and one-half inch meshboard--this mesh was three inches--and a ball of the fine linen twine which marta had given him. he worked as fast as he could, while at the same time he did not sacrifice efficiency. more than ever fishing seemed to be an art within itself, and if the seine were not perfectly made, then it was better left alone. a slipshod or hasty knot could cost them a hundred pounds of fish, or even the seine itself. as ramsay went along, he judged for himself which parts needed repairing. any mesh that seemed to be worn must be replaced; a whole school of fish might follow each other through a single hole. for half an hour hans stood watching him. then, satisfied that ramsay knew what he was about, he went off to cut new floats and place them on top of the seine. a dozen times he went down to study the bay, looking carefully and judging for himself the depth at which they would find the largest schools of whitefish. coming back, he adjusted the stone sinkers accordingly. absorbed in his work, ramsay gave no thought to the passage of time until marta called him for supper. as soon as he had finished eating, he returned to the net. darkness deepened and still he worked on. "ach!" marta said. "you'll kill yourself working! can you not come in now?" "just a little while. bring me a lantern." ramsay heard hans van doorst murmur, "a fisherman, that one," and a yellow lantern glowed behind him. it was nothing more than a tallow candle set in a glass case but, ramsay thought, he really didn't need a stronger light. so sensitive had his fingers become to the feel of the net, and so expert was he in knitting new meshes, that, almost, he would have been able to do it with his eyes closed. he worked on while, held alternately by hans and pieter, the lantern moved with him. he forgot the ache in his fingers and the weariness in his body. he knew only that the sooner the net was in good working order, the sooner they could go fishing. the pre-dawn birds were again singing when ramsay finally bumped against something and, so absorbed had he been in his work, it took him a moment to realize that it was the other tree. he held the mesh board in fingers which, strangely and suddenly, seemed to lack all nerve or feeling. he blinked almost stupidly and stepped back. when he spoke, his words sounded almost silly. "well," he said, "there it is." "there indeed it is!" hans chuckled. "and there it will be until, as soon as possible, we get it into the water. come now and sleep, for with the morning's sun i would have you go with me." ramsay stumbled to his bedroom, took his shoes off, and without removing any of his other clothing, fell across the bed. instantly he was submerged in exhausted slumber from which he was awakened by a gentle hand on his shoulder. "come now," a voice said. ramsay sat up with a start, to see hans van doorst looking down at him. again with a guilty feeling, he knew that he had slept far beyond the time when any worker in this country should sleep. hastily he sprang out of bed. "i'll be right with you!" "compose yourself," said hans van doorst, who had awakened him. "there is no need for any mad rush. i thought you might wish to help me." "oh, sure!" ramsay grinned faintly when he discovered that, except for his shoes, he was fully dressed. he put his shoes on and tied them, went outside to wash at the wash stand, and came in to eat the breakfast marta had ready. scarcely noticing what he ate, he gulped it down. "easy," marta cautioned. "the stomach complaint you will be giving yourself!" "i must hurry! hans is waiting for me!" "with men it is always hurry, especially when they go to do what they wish to do anyway. aah! only a man would give up a good farm to go fishing!" "pieter has not given up his farm," ramsay pointed out. "he will," marta prophesied. "he will, and he will go fishing with you and that crazy hans." "oh, marta, don't be so sad about things! it ..." she was sunny again. "go along now. hans is waiting." hans had black hitched to the cart and was waiting outside the door. his wings calmly folded, captain klaus sat on the back of the seat. ramsay climbed up, and hans slapped the reins over the horse's back. they started up the sand beach--there was a corduroy road but the sand was smoother--toward three points. ramsay grinned impishly as they drove through the town, because he felt the questioning glances of the towns people. devil chad controlled all this, and devil chad had made it very clear that ramsay was not wanted in three points. maybe hans wasn't wanted either but, as pierre ledou had pointed out, the fishermen and farmers cared little what anyone else thought. ramsay looked about, hoping to see devil chad, but he was nowhere in sight. a little disappointed, he relaxed beside hans. they drove through the village and up a rutted little road that wound among gloomy hemlocks. ramsay saw a doe with a fawn at her side, staring at them. as they drew near the doe raised her white tail over her back and disappeared. hans grinned at her. "they shoot the mammas with the babies," he said, "just like they do the papas with the horns. there is no more right in that than there is in netting a spawning fish." "you mean because the babies will die?" "yaah. then, after there aren't any more deer, people just do not understand it. some awful disease, they say, carried them off. they do not know that their own lack of sense carried them off. it is the same with fish. those who seine in the spawning season kill maybe two hundred for every one they take. when there are not any more fish, they will invent a terrible disease that carried them off." ramsay felt a little alarm. "do you think there won't be any more?" "the whitefish," hans pronounced, "cannot last in numbers such as you find them in now. that is because so many of them are being caught. for maybe ten thousand years they are filling the lake until now no fish is more numerous. yaah, for many years they were a food staple of the indians. i myself have seen indians spearing them, or shooting them with bows and arrows. tribes came from as far as the mississippi river to fish here. but a net fisherman takes more in one season than a whole tribe of indians used to, and often the fishermen cannot even take care of what they catch. i have seen whitefish, good eating whitefish, stacked like cordwood along the beach and left to rot there. i have seen them fed to pigs. the best fishing along lake erie is already gone, due to such excesses. that is why fishermen from ohio come here." "will fishing end?" ramsay inquired. "that i do not think. considering it from all angles. now a fisherman will catch perhaps a thousand whitefish, and maybe a hundred sturgeon, for every trout. why? because the whitefish and sturgeon eat trout spawn is part of the reason. when the whitefish and sturgeon are gone, the trout will multiply until they are the big catch. if the trout are taken or die out, there will be something else. no. there will always be fishing here, but it will be better when men learn to fish wisely and not to take anything in the spawning season." "when is that?" ramsay inquired. "whitefish and trout both spawn in the fall, from the fifteenth of october until the fifteenth of december. the sturgeon, i think they are a river fish and that they go up the rivers to spawn. if ever the rivers are closed, there will be many fewer sturgeon." the gloomy little road swerved back toward the lake. they broke out of the trees, and ramsay saw the water again. built into it, at this point, was a rambling wooden pier. there was a house and a fishing shanty. tied to a stake in a patch of green grass, a sad-eyed brown cow munched placidly on a five-pound whitefish. tied to the pier, a saucy twenty-six-foot mackinaw boat, much like the _spray_, bobbed up and down. nearer the beach was another boat, evidently a sadly worn one. nets of various kinds were strung on reels close to the lake. the house's door opened, and a ferocious little black dog snarled toward them. showing white teeth, foaming at the mouth, he hurled himself straight at the visitors. hans laughed and swung down from the cart, and as soon as he did the little black dog leaped about him to wag an almost furious welcome. hans grinned and knelt to tickle the dog's ears. "like most frenchmen, you can do nothing unless you do it violently," he soothed. "where is your master?" the house's door opened and a man, whom at first ramsay thought was a boy, flung himself out. barely five feet tall, he was dressed in breeches, leather leggings with colored fringes and a shirt that seemed to sport every color in the rainbow. he threw himself at hans. "_mon ami!_" he screamed. "my friend! it has been so long, so very long since you honored us with a visit! tell me what has kept you away for so very long?" "baptiste," hans said, "meet one of my new partners, ramsay cartou. ramsay, baptiste leclaire." baptiste wrung ramsay's arm as though it were a pump handle and in spite of his small size, he was very strong. he looked frankly at the boy. "you have," he asked, "bought an interest in the _spray_?" "the _spray_ is no more," hans informed him. "she went back to the lake." "oh." for a moment baptiste was very sober. then both men laughed, as though they shared some huge secret which nobody else could ever understand. baptiste exploded. "what is it you need, my friend? my boats, my nets, my pier, my life? name it and it is yours!" "no," hans said. "what we need is barrels. good oaken barrels with pliant black ash hoops. we also need salt. we have a net and we have a boat." "that is all you need?" baptiste seemed disappointed. "that is all." baptiste turned and in rapid-fire french directed orders at three men who were lingering near. at once they began to take barrels built to hold two hundred pounds of fish from a huge pile near the fishing shanty and to stack them on baptiste's boat. ramsay read her name, _bon homme_. baptiste leclaire turned to his visitors. "now that you are here," he said, "share the hospitality of my poor home." "with pleasure," hans agreed. they went into the house to meet baptiste's wife, a sparkling little black-eyed french woman. producing the inevitable jug, baptiste filled three gourds with fiery whisky. hans and baptiste drained theirs with one gulp. ramsay nursed his, both men laughed at him. but the boy could partake of the delicious fish stew which baptiste's wife prepared. a half-hour after ramsay and hans returned to the van hooven farm, a white sail bloomed out in the bay. she was the _bon homme_, loaded halfway up the mast with barrels and salt. hans van doorst rubbed his hands in undisguised glee. "now," he chuckled, "we go fishing!" chapter seven _partners_ ramsay was puzzled. hans van doorst had arisen even before the first faint streaks of dawn cracked the night sky and without waiting for anyone else to get up, or for breakfast, he had gone out to work. he was not fishing, for he had assured ramsay that there would be no fishing until all could take part. furthermore, hans had said, the fishing would need all of them. one man alone could not take enough fish to make it worthwhile. still, hans had gone out before it was properly light enough to see. ramsay had heard captain klaus greet his master from the top of the house. what anyone would be doing out of bed at such an early hour remained a mystery. in the dim morning light, descending the steps to the kitchen, ramsay continued to wonder why hans had gone out when he did. he greeted the van hoovens, who were already washed up for breakfast, and marta went to the back door to call, "hans!" captain klaus' hoarse squawk broke the morning stillness, and a second later there was an answering call from hans. he was down at the beach, doing something there, and presently he came in. ramsay grinned appreciatively at his appearance, for the dutch fisherman's cheeks glowed like the rising sun. his eyes sparkled, and a perpetual chuckle seemed to gurgle in his throat. plainly hans had been doing some invigorating work, but it was work in which he took a vast pleasure. anything onerous could not possibly put such a shine upon anyone at all. hans washed at the basin outside the door. "ah!" he breathed as he sat down to the huge breakfast marta had readied. "this looks good!" "i should think a stale crust would look good to anyone who puts in a half-day's work before anyone else stirs," marta said. "it would!" hans agreed, helping himself to half a dozen eggs and an equal number of bacon slices. "it would, and many a time i have dined on only a crust! but fare such as this! fit for the angels! i'm the luckiest fisherman alive, i think!" "also the most oily-tongued," marta added. nonetheless she was pleased. "i suppose, when we are all wealthy from fishing, you will hire a cook for me?" "not i!" hans said. "never i! hiring anyone but you to do our cooking would be as out of place as hiring joe mannis instead of a preacher to do our praying! no, marta! not elsewhere in wisconsin is there one who equals your skill with cookery!" pieter, who often tried to beguile his wife but seldom succeeded, laughed. marta blushed. while hans devoured what he had already taken, then served himself to three more eggs, ramsay ate almost feverishly. today was the big day, the time all of them had been waiting for, because today they went fishing. ramsay finished and waited with ill-concealed impatience while pieter and hans mopped their plates with crusts of bread. all three went outside. squawking and chuckling, as though at some huge joke, captain klaus winged down from the rooftop to alight on his master's shoulder. he tilted, flapping his wings to balance himself, and caressed hans' cheek with his hard, cold bill, even while he kept up a running fire of sea gull chatter. hans reached up to stroke his pet. ramsay looked down at the beach, and saw two structures which had not been there yesterday. hans must have built them this morning. they were windlasses, made of peeled logs, and about eight hundred feet apart. one was the conventional windlass--a drum mounted on two uprights and with a crank that could be turned by hand. the spindle of the other--all these lake men could work miracles with logs or anything else at their command--was set vertically in a stone and log foundation and it had a long, stout shaft protruding from its center. ramsay looked questioningly at hans. the dutch fisherman shrugged. "it is simple," he explained. "we have but one horse. therefore, we men work the one while the horse turns the other. marta can lead it." ramsay was incredulous. "you mean we'll take so many fish that a horse will be needed to drag them in?" hans' throaty chuckle sounded. "if we do not," he said, "from now on forever you may say that hans van doorst is not a fisherman. say that he is just a little boy who plays at fishing." with a fisherman's skill, hans was coiling a rope. he settled it carefully in the bottom of the boat, so that it wouldn't kink or snarl when paid out, and was alert to avoid stepping on or tangling it in anyway. folded exactly as hans wanted it, with all the floats on one side and all the sinkers on the other, the net was overhauled on the stern of the boat. another coil of rope lay on the net, and hans tied one end of that to the spindle of the horse-powered windlass. then he looked happily at pieter and ramsay. "now," he said, "i need an oarsman." "i'll row!" ramsay offered eagerly. "go ahead." pieter grinned. so expertly that he scarcely ruffled the water and did not even disturb his net or rope, hans launched the boat. he waded in up to his knees, paying out more rope as he did so, and held the boat steady until ramsay waded out beside him and climbed into the rower's seat. ramsay tried to board cautiously, skilfully, as he had seen hans do. obviously a great deal of careful work had gone into folding the net and coiling the rope. everything had to be done exactly right, and one clumsy or ill-timed move could make a hopeless snarl out of all. still, hans seemed confident and sure of himself. probably, ramsay thought, he had done this so many times that doing it was almost second nature. the boy looked expectantly at hans. "straight into the lake," the dutch fisherman directed. "keep a straight right-angle course to the windlass; you can do that by sighting yourself from it. row as swiftly as you wish." with strong, surging strokes of the oars, ramsay sent the ponderous boat out into the quiet lake. he watched hans carefully, trying to note everything he did, and his respect for fishermen grew. the dutchman sat almost carelessly in the stern, to all outward appearances not even interested in what he was doing. but, as they continued out into the lake, the rope continued to slip smoothly over the stern. there was never a tangle or even a kink. it looked easy, but net-weaving had looked easy too before ramsay tried it. beyond any doubt, it took skill and long familiarity with the job to handle six or eight hundred feet of rope in such a fashion and do it perfectly. they came near the end of the rope and ramsay slowed his strokes a little. the laughing dutch fisherman turned to him. "sharp left," he directed. "stay about this far out in the lake and row a bit more slowly. now we set the seine." ramsay followed instructions, watching the beach line to make sure that he stayed the proper distance out, and hans began sliding the seine over the stern. he did it smoothly, gracefully, as he did everything connected with fishing. ramsay nodded approvingly to see how well hans laid his net and how expertly he had guaged the place in which it was to be laid. instead of curling toward the beach, the seine, obviously controlled by a current that swept into the lake, billowed outward. "does the lake have different currents?" ramsay asked interestedly. "that it does. when the wind blows toward shore, of course waves wash up on the shore. but the lake, she moves in a thousand different ways, and the currents that appear on the surface are not always like those that surge beneath the surface. ah, yes! many moods has lake michigan and," hans grinned, "not many of them are placid moods." "how could you tell that a current to hold the seine was right here?" "i felt it when i had hold of your horse's tail." ramsay pondered that information. the current holding the net certainly was not perceptible from the surface. it would not be evident at all, except to one who had a thorough understanding of such things and was able to sense the most minute change in the water that lay about him. of course, the stones, the sinkers, probably helped hold the seine in place too. foot by foot, the seine slipped into the lake and a long line of it stretched at an angle toward the boat. ramsay tried to judge for himself how far the net was going down. he could not because he had had too little experience in fishing, but he was sure the seine rested exactly where hans wanted it to rest. without seeming to move, hans leaned over to pick up the other coil of rope. smoothly he tied it, and the last few feet of seine slid over the boat's stern to disappear in the lake. ramsay waited expectantly for directions. they came. "straight as you can towards the other windlass," hans said. "then we are all ready." again ramsay turned at a right angle toward the other windlass. now he began to understand the setting of a seine. there were the two windlasses, the two six-hundred-foot ropes and the seine running parallel to the beach. now, ramsay supposed, they would beach the boat, tie this rope to the other windlass, and be ready to haul in the seine. if they did not make a good catch, they could lengthen the ropes and put the seine farther out in the lake. also, by adding more sinkers or subtracting some, they could raise or lower the seine. ramsay tried to make some observations about the water in which they were fishing. it was comparatively shallow, though at all places except very near the shore it would float a fair-sized ship. also, it seemed to have a rather smooth bottom. in addition, though the bay could at times be angry, it was more sheltered than some places. storms here probably would at no time reach the heights of fury that they reached on the open lake. because he was anxious to learn as much as he could about fishing, ramsay asked some questions. "are whitefish usually found in shallow water?" "almost always," hans said. "though they need not necessarily always be found close to shore. i myself know of reefs where we will be sure of wonderful catches as soon as we get some pound nets, and some of them are a mile or more out." "then the lake bottom varies?" "oh, yes! to get an idea of what the bottom of the lake is like, take a look at the land about you. here you find a hill, or a succession of rolling hills. here is a stretch of flat prairie. there are deep gulches and bluffs. you will find clay, sand, loam, small stones, boulders. as i've already said, the lake's bottom is almost exactly like the land about it." "what's the deepest part?" "baptiste leclaire and i once sounded a place off the wisconsin peninsula. we touched bottom with a thousand feet of line, and i think that may be the deepest place in lake michigan, though i cannot be sure. i have not sounded every place in the lake and, for that matter, neither has anyone else." "are there deep-water fish?" "the trout ordinarily seeks deep water, though they may be found in shallows in the spring. however, there are not enough trout to be worth a fisherman's while. some day this may change." "is there any way to set a net so a fisherman may be sure of a good catch?" "not once in ten times, if he is just beginning, can a fisherman be certain of a good catch, or of any catch. the tenth time is the exception. i am sure, for instance, that there must be a vast number of whitefish in this bay, because the food for them is here. otherwise, the fisherman must be taught by experience, or by another fisherman, where to set his nets so that he will make a good catch. watch it now. we are about to land." the nose of the little boat bumped gently against the sand beach, and hans stepped out into knee-deep water. paying no attention to his soaking-wet shoes and trousers, he uncoiled the rope as he walked up the beach and tied it through a hole which he had drilled in the spindle of the hand windlass. more gingerly, not afraid of getting wet but not anxious to do so, ramsay stepped to the nose of the boat and leaped onto the dry beach. pieter and marta joined them, and all turned puzzled glances on hans; they knew almost nothing about the technique of fishing and must look to him. ramsay watched the fisherman test the taut rope with his hand, and a little smile of satisfaction flitted across his face. excited himself, hans looked at the even more excited people about him. "relax." he grinned. "the seine is not going anywhere, and we will soon see what we have caught. ramsay, do you want to harness the horse and bring him down?" "sure." ramsay trotted to the barn, anxious to be doing anything that would help relieve the seething tension within him. everything he had done this morning--indeed, everything he had done since meeting hans van doorst--had been fascination itself. now, if hans' predictions were right, and the dutch fisherman seemed so absolutely sure of himself, they would soon be in the fishing business. ramsay laid a friendly hand on black's mane, and the little horse followed willingly into the barn. he stood quietly to be harnessed. ramsay fastened a singletree to the harness tugs and hooked a strong chain onto it. partaking of the humans' excitement, captain klaus winged low over the beach, crying and squawking as he wheeled and dipped in graceful circles. ramsay grinned at him. of all the pets a fisherman might have, surely a sea gull was the most fitting. ramsay led black toward the far windlass, the one the horse was to work, because hans, pieter and marta had gathered about it. captain klaus came out of the sky to alight on top of the windlass, and the horse scraped a restless front hoof across the sand beach. ramsay looked inquiringly at hans, who frowned and stepped back, then turned to the boy. "we need a longer chain," he decided. "will you get one?" "sure." ramsay ran back to the barn and returned with the longest chain pieter had. hans hooked it to the windlass shaft, laid it out flat, and then connected it to the chain ramsay had already brought. the boy nodded understandingly. the rope dipped into the lake, then rose to the windlass spindle. the chain had to be long enough so that the horse, in walking around and around, could step over the rope. hans turned to marta. "when i give the word," he said, "lead the horse in a circle around the windlass. lead him slowly; we do not want the seine to come in too fast. try to maintain a steady pace, and we will do our best to suit ours to yours. both ends of the seine must come in evenly." "yaah!" in spite of her dire forebodings about fishermen, marta's eyes were shining like stars. "yaah! i can do it." "good," hans said gently. "i know you can. ramsay, you and pieter come with me." the three men took their places by the other windlass, and ramsay tried to suppress a growing excitement. he waited tensely, both hands on the crank; pieter was on the other side of the windlass. looking once more at the taut rope stretching into the lake, hans van doorst raised his voice, "all right, marta!" grasping the cheek strap of the little horse's bridle, marta began to lead him slowly around and around. tense, sweating a little, ramsay took a fierce grip on the windlass crank and looked at hans. the dutch fisherman, his eyes on marta, timed the turning of the windlass. "now!" he said. ramsay strained with every muscle and nerve, and great beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. hans had built well and with a full appreciation of leverage and tension; nevertheless, the windlass was hard to turn. the seine itself would be responsible for part of that. dry, one man could carry it. but when lake water penetrated every one of its hundreds of meshes, the seine would surely weigh much more. however, no net of any description could within itself weigh this much. hans must have guessed correctly. there were endless fish in the bay and the incoming seine must be loaded with them. "faster!" hans exclaimed. ramsay gritted his teeth and turned the windlass faster. he shot a fleeting glance at marta, who was still leading the horse slowly. even so, black was going too fast. the combined strength of three men was no match for the strength of a horse. hans' bellow split the air, "marta, stop!" marta halted the little horse and ramsay leaned his weight against the windlass' crank so that they would not lose what they had already gained. he gulped in great, refreshing breaths. hans asked, "can you hold it?" ramsay and pieter nodded, and hans walked down to talk with marta. she must lead the horse even more slowly, for the men could not keep up with him. if both ends of the seine were not pulled in evenly, if the net was tilted or bent, the catch could well be lost. ramsay straightened as hans came back to take hold of the crank. "all right," he said. ramsay turned, setting his shoulder to the windlass while his breath came in excited little gasps. the rope, tight as a stretched wire, sloped into the lake. though it was stoutly built of heavy logs, the windlass trembled on its frame. the crank became harder to turn and the wet rope wrapped like a clinging hair about the spindle. ramsay gasped. out in the lake, just beyond the shallow water at the edge of the beach, the seine's floats showed. the seine itself was bent like a bow, its two ends straining toward the windlasses while the center arched into the lake. the gleam of silver in the seine seemed to cast a soft radiance over the lake and the beach, and even a powerful current could not have bowed the seine in such a fashion. ramsay set his shoulder to the windlass and helped give it two more turns. down at the other windlass, marta was watching them. she, too, had learned. the men could not keep up with the horse, so she was adjusting the horse's speed to them. farther up the seine came, so that some of the sinkers were dragging in the shallows. the floats were bowed over, forming a sort of half-sack, and the center of the seine still arched back into deep water. ramsay saw a tight little grin appear on hans van doorst's face. pieter was looking incredulously at the loaded net. "a little more!" hans pleaded. "just a little more! get the center up!" they took two more turns, brought the center of the seine into shallow water, and hans latched the windlass. with a wild whoop, the dutch fisherman raced down to the lake and stooped to grasp a hundred-and-fifty-pound sturgeon caught in the net. hans dragged it up onto the beach, left it there, and returned to get a bigger one. "nets unload!" he sang out. ramsay ran forward, heedless of water that surged about his knees. he stumbled, fell headlong, and arose sputtering. but, now that he was soaking-wet anyway, it no longer made any difference. he grabbed a six-pound whitefish in each hand and threw the pair far up the beach. he grinned as he watched pieter drag another big sturgeon out of the seine, and grabbed two more whitefish. "yaah! for once men work with a real will!" ramsay turned around to see marta, her spray-wet hair plastered close to her head. her feet were spread almost defiantly apart, and the smile on her lips and the laugh in her eyes were proof of the fact that she was now whole-heartedly with them. fishermen risked a lot. but who didn't risk when they played for big stakes? lake michigan was there, until now an almost untapped source of wealth; and if nobody dared to get this hoard, it would remain forever in the lake. somebody had to try. in that moment, as never before, ramsay knew that they were in the fishing business. only vaguely was he aware of pieter and hans working beside him, and he did not know how long it took to get all the fish out of the seine. he knew only that suddenly the net sagged emptily. he took two small whitefish out of it, threw them back into the lake, and watched them swim away; then he looked at hans van doorst. "let us bring the net up to dry," hans said. they reeled in the windlasses and stretched the soaking seine between them. ramsay turned for a look at the beach, and he could not see it because the sand was covered with fish. hans had been right. the bay in front of the van hooven home was a very paradise for fish. countless sturgeon and whitefish lay on the beach. ramsay heard hans say, "now we go to work." hans hitched the little horse, brought the cart down to the beach, and began throwing whitefish into it. the bigger, heavier sturgeon, of course, hans had to lift into the wagon box. when they had a load, he drove to the stacked barrels left by baptiste leclaire. ramsay watched interestedly. a little trickle of water wound into the lake at this point, and hans had dammed it in such a fashion that a miniature cataract fell over the stones and mud which he had placed in the water course. beside this were a big, flat wooden dish, evidently also made by hans, and several sacks of salt. the dutchman produced three razor-sharp fish knives, more salvage from the _spray_, and turned to pieter. "do you want to bring the rest of the fish up?" "yaah. i'll do that." hans caught up a six-pound whitefish and, seeming to use his knife very little, he cut its head off. leaving the fish unscaled, he sliced it down the backbone to the end of the tail and spilled the viscera out. he washed his fish in the dam's tiny spillway and, filling the wooden dish with salt, he rolled the split whitefish in dry salt. then he placed it carefully in a two-hundred-pound barrel. ramsay caught up a fish and a knife and tried to imitate exactly hans' procedure. but, though he thought he was doing everything precisely as the dutchman had done it, he was much slower. hans had two more fish ready and in the barrel before ramsay was finished with one. grimly ramsay worked on. if this was a part of fishing, it was a part he must and would learn. he picked up another fish and, as he worked, he gained skill. as soon as one barrel was filled, hans threw a couple of hands full of salt on top, fitted a head to it and clamped it down with a black ash hoop. again ramsay nodded understandingly. he had supposed that a brine solution in which to pack the fish must be prepared, but evidently none was necessary. enough water remained on the fish to form their own brine. packed in such a fashion, they would keep for many months. pieter brought another load of fish and another, and then set to work with a fish knife to help clean the catch and pack it. the big sturgeon, of course, had to be cut into suitable strips and salted before they were packed. some of them were filled with roe--caviar--and pieter carted pails full of that to feed marta's poultry. the remainder of the waste was loaded into the cart and hauled far away from the scene of the packing. then hans scrubbed everything carefully. fishermen who packed food for human consumption must be very clean. the sun was down and the moon up before they finished, but when they were done they had packed seven barrels--fourteen hundred pounds--of whitefish and three barrels of sturgeon. it was a rich haul. though they had worked for almost seventeen hours, each of them had earned more money than the average worker in devil chad's tannery received in a full month. ramsay sighed as he cleaned and honed his fish knife, and hans said, "the moon is bright and right for working, and we need a pier." "a pier?" "yaah. else how will a boat put in to pick our catch up? i work for an hour or so." ramsay, thinking of his comfortable bed, stumbled down to the lake to help hans put in an hour or two on the pier. chapter eight _action_ restlessly ramsay picked up a big whitefish and cleaned it. salting it, he threw the fish into a barrel and picked up another. a freckle-faced urchin about ten years old stood near, watching him. the youngster was johnny o'toole, son of shamus o'toole. in the summer shamus did odd jobs. in winter, when boats could not run, he drove one of the sleds that carried leather from three points to milwaukee and cattle hides from milwaukee to three points. "you goin' to fix a sturgeon?" johnny demanded. "sure," ramsay said absently. "pretty soon." ramsay's eyes kept straying out on the lake, past the solid wooden pier which hans, pieter and ramsay, had erected. the past days, it seemed, had been nothing but work. up with the dawn and out to make another catch of fish. pack the catch, and spend any time that remained working on the pier. weeds were sprouting as high as the corn, oats were heading untended and unheeded on their stalks, and the farm was getting only the skimpiest attention. all this because they had decided to gamble on fishing. when the _jackson_, summoned by hans, had nosed into their pier, she had taken on board a hundred and twenty barrels--twenty-four thousand pounds of whitefish--and forty thousand pounds of sturgeon. the whitefish, hans had assured them, would bring not less than five cents a pound in the chicago market and the sturgeon were worth three cents a pound. when they had their money they would be able to buy a pound net, a pound boat, more salt and barrels, and be ready for fishing on a really big scale. ramsay's eyes kept darting toward the lake. the _jackson's_ skipper had said that, depending on how much cargo he had to take on in chicago and the number of stops between chicago and three points, the ship would be back tuesday or wednesday. this was tuesday, and ramsay could not control his impatience. "fix a sturgeon," johnny pleaded. "fix a sturgeon now." "i ... all right, johnny." ramsay began to dismember a hundred-pound sturgeon, and johnny o'toole's eyes danced. he stood anxiously near, trying to remember his manners, but his impatience triumphed. "gimme his nose, will ya? can i have his nose?" "sure, johnny." ramsay, who had learned a lot about dressing fish since his first halting attempts, sliced the sturgeon's nose off with one clean stroke of his knife. the nose was round as a ball, and as rubbery, and every one of the numberless freckles on johnny o'toole's face danced with delight when ramsay tossed it to him. immediately, johnny began bouncing the sturgeon's nose up and down on the hard-packed ground. he had only to drop it, and the nose bounded higher than his head. this was the rubber ball, and sometimes the only plaything, of children who lived among the commercial fishermen of lake michigan. johnny began throwing the nose against a tree, catching it in his hand as it rebounded to him. ramsay--hans and pieter were down at the lake, strengthening the pier--picked up another sturgeon and filled a barrel. he sprinkled the usual two handfuls of salt on top of the filled barrel, fitted a head to it, and bound it tightly with a black ash hoop. ramsay looked at the two sturgeon remaining from this morning's catch, and decided that they would just about fill a barrel. he rolled one of their dwindling supply over. "can i have their noses, too?" johnny begged. "can i? huh?" "sure, johnny." "gee! thanks!" johnny o'toole began to play with his four sturgeon noses, sometimes bouncing all of them at once and sometimes juggling them. ramsay continued to steal glances at the lake. if everything worked out the way hans said it would, they would have ... ramsay dared not think of it, but, even after they paid the skipper of the _jackson_ for hauling their catch to chicago, there would be a great deal. "i'd better be goin'," johnny o'toole said. "my pa, he whales me if i stay out after dark. thanks for the sturgeon noses. i can trade two of 'em to my brother for a knife he's got." "you're welcome, johnny. come back when we have some more sturgeon." "i'll do that!" bouncing one of the sturgeon noses ahead of him, johnny o'toole started up the beach toward three points. ramsay watched him go, then cleaned the last of the sturgeon, put them in a barrel and sealed it. as the evening shadows lengthened, he looked again at the bay. the _jackson_ still had not put in, and he gave up. the ship would not be here until tomorrow. he left the barrels where they were and went toward the house. tradin' jack hammersly's four-wheeled cart was again in the yard, its curtains rolled up to reveal the trader's tempting array of wares. his gray horse was in the corral with the little black, and tradin' jack hammersly's stovepipe hat was decorously placed on the bench outside the door. ramsay grinned faintly as he washed up. the trader was an eccentric character, and ramsay suspected that his eccentricities were planned; they made good advertising. but he was likeable, and now they would get more news. ramsay went into the house. "hi, ramsay," tradin' jack greeted him. "how about a pretty ribbon for that girl of yours?" "i still haven't any girl." "slow," tradin' jack asserted. "so much time you have spent around here an' still no girl. too slow." "i'll get one," ramsay promised, "but i've been too busy fishing to look the field over." tradin' jack nodded sadly. "yes. i heard it. that's what i did, heard it. so you go fishin'. so what happens? can a trader trade fish? no. he can't. fish you sell in chicago. fishermen are the ruination of traders." "not everybody will go fishing," pieter pointed out. "enough will stay at farming to keep you supplied. besides, with all the money the fishermen are going to earn, they can buy a lot more of your goods." "that's so," tradin' jack agreed. "that's so, too, but a man's got to take everything into account. if he wants to stay in business, he has to. got any eggs for me, marta?" "yaah! crate after crate." "i'll take 'em. take 'em all. fourteen cents a dozen. fourteen and a half if you'll take it in trade." his mind on the _jackson_, which even now should be churning its way toward them, ramsay only half-listened as tradin' jack rattled on about the various events which, combined, went to make up life on the west shore of lake michigan. remembering little of what he had heard, ramsay went upstairs to bed. snuggling down into the soft, feather-filled mattress, he tried to stay awake and could not. the work was always too hard and the days too long to forego even one minute's slumber. * * * * * the sun was only half-awake when ramsay got up, breakfasted and went back to the place where they cleaned their fish. everything that could be was packed and the grounds were clean, but yesterday they had ripped a ragged gash in the seine and now that needed repair. ramsay, assisted by hans, set to work with a ball of linen twine. he lost himself in what he was doing. the important thing, if they wanted fish, was to get the net into the water and use it. even one half-hour must not be wasted. ramsay was jerked out of his absorption in the net by two shrill blasts. he sat up, and sprang to his feet as the blasts were repeated. looking in the direction of the pier, he saw the _jackson_, her wheel churning up a path of foam, nosing toward the mooring place. pieter appeared, and marta. all four raced to the pier, and they reached it before the approaching steamer did. ramsay and hans secured mooring lines which a deck hand threw to them, and captain williamson of the _jackson_ came down a short ladder. he was a bustling little man who wore a blue-and-gold uniform which, ramsay thought, would have graced an admiral in any navy. but he was efficient and he knew the lake. for eleven years he had been running the _jackson_ between three points and chicago without getting her into or even near trouble. captain williamson took a white sheet and a wallet from an inner pocket, and he read from the sheet, "twenty-four thousand pounds of whitefish you gave me. it brought five cents a pound, or twelve hundred dollars, less a cent a pound for the hauling. here you are, nine hundred and twenty dollars." from the wallet he extracted a sheaf of bills and handed them to hans. ramsay looked questioningly at him. "the sturgeon?" he asked. "ha!" captain williamson snorted. "there's enough sturgeon layin' on the chicago pier to run the whole city for the next six weeks. nobody's buying it but, since i hauled, i have to be paid. see you later, gentlemen." captain williamson scrambled back up his ladder, which was hauled in after him. snorting like an overworked draft horse, the _jackson_ backed away from her mooring, made a wide circle into the lake, and puffed on toward three points. ramsay looked incredulously at the money in hans' fist, slow to realize that, even if they split it among the four of them, it would be more than half a year's wages for each and they had earned it in less than two weeks. then he looked at marta's face and burst out laughing. from the first, marta had been with them only half-heartedly and only because pieter could not be swayed from fishing. now, seeing enough money to buy a farm, and with tangible evidence that fishing paid well, she had swung completely to their side. pieter and hans joined in ramsay's laughter while marta looked puzzled. she was, as hans had declared, a good dutch girl. definitely she was not avaricious, but no good dutch girl could fail to be impressed by the sight of so much money. hans clasped the bills firmly and looked at his partners. "what do you say?" he asked. "what do you mean?" ramsay inquired. "pound nets we need, pound boats. men to help us set them. more salt and more barrels. we owe baptiste. or shall we divide what we have and keep on fishing with the seine?" "will it take so much to buy those things of which you speak?" marta inquired. "this and more, if we really want to take fish." "then let's do it!" marta declared. "pieter?" hans inquired. "fishing beats farming." "ramsay?" "i came here to fish." "come with me." hans hitched the little black horse, and ramsay climbed up on the cart beside him. captain klaus, hurrying frantically from his perch atop the house, alighted on the cart and caressed hans with his bill. the dutch fisherman whistled happily as he drove along, and ramsay grinned. this was the way to get things done; work every second of every day to catch fish and then, without even thinking twice about it, invest everything they had earned in more equipment so they could catch even more fish. captain klaus winged off the cart to go and see what some of his wild relatives along the lake shore were doing. ramsay turned to hans, "how big is this pound net?" "ha! you have never seen one?" "never." "soon you will. very soon you will. there are a lot of pieces in each net and, all together, they weigh about six hundred and fifty pounds. it will cost, i think, about thirty cents a pound, or perhaps two hundred dollars for each net. then we shall need at least one pound boat, and that will cost an additional two hundred dollars. we shall need more rope, perhaps two hundred and fifty pounds, at a cost of about nine cents a pound. then we shall have to hire men to help us drive spiles for the net. we need more barrels, more salt. the money we have here will provide us with no more than one net." "how many should we have?" "i think that you, i and pieter could handle three on part time. we could very well use seven or eight if we gave full time to pound nets. however, as soon as we get three in working order--and meanwhile we will continue to seine--we will build a good mackinaw boat, like the _spray_, and use gill nets, too." ramsay whistled. "we're really getting in deep!" "ah, yes!" hans said gleefully. "but the fishing, it is a business! it is the only business for a man!" ramsay pondered thoughtfully. devil chad, who lately had seemed remote, was now near and his presence could be felt. probably, to anyone who knew devil chad, it would be impossible to go into three points without sensing his nearness. if devil chad had set out to control everything, then why hadn't he made an attempt to control fishing? certainly it was profitable. ramsay dismissed the thought. maybe devil chad had his hands full and lacked the time to intrude on the fisheries. it still seemed strange that he would lack time to intrude on anything that offered an honest, or even a dishonest, dollar. captain klaus came winging back to the cart and perched on the dutchman's shoulder. hans turned the little horse down a dim road, one ramsay had not yet noticed, on the edge of three points, and they came out on the borders of a river that emptied into the lake. there was a large shed with a chimney that leaned at a crazy angle and belched a thin trickle of smoke. hans halted the little horse, who immediately lowered his head to nibble at one of the few patches of green grass growing on this sand beach. ramsay turned his head to look at the place. lumber of various sizes and cuts was stacked all about it, and there was a pile of uncut logs left to season. ramsay saw the gleam of a saw and caught the scent of a wood-fired boiler. now the saw's shrill roar was stilled and the boiler's fires were banked. ramsay looked at the dozen boats that were drawn up on the river bank. they were sturdy, fourteen to sixteen feet long, and propelled wholly by oars. at the back of each was sort of a small winch. there were broad seats and long oars. ramsay turned to face the man who emerged from the shed. he was tall, blond and so big that he was almost fat. but his quick eyes were not those of a dull-witted fat man, and his big hands tapered into slim, expressive, artist's fingers. a ready smile seemed engraved on his thick lips, and his blue eyes lighted readily. "hans!" he exclaimed. "hello, tom," hans said. "what the dickens! i thought you'd gone off some place!" hans laughed. "not me! i wish you to meet one of my new partners, ramsay cartou. ramsay, tom nedley. he is an artist with the wood and could make fine violins, but he prefers to pass his time on this river bank, making pound boats for indigent fishermen." "glad to know you." tom wrung ramsay's hand. "what are you up to?" "we have come," hans announced, "to get a pound boat." "sure. take your pick." "we," hans said grandly, "have the money to pay for it." "gosh! i heard you lost the _spray_?" "that we did," hans conceded, "and three good men with it. but we shall build another boat as good. can you, by the way, supply me with a good oaken keel and cedar planking?" "sure. i'll even show you where there's some big cedar stumps that'll do for the ribbing." "i already know," hans said. "what we wish to have you do now is deliver a good pound boat to pieter van hooven's place. two hundred dollars?" "yup. but if you haven't the money ..." "we have it," hans assured him. he counted out some money and pressed it into tom nedley's hands. the big boatmaker looked both embarrassed and pleased. "gosh! thanks! got your spiles driven?" "nope." "for that you need two boats." "of that i am aware. but we do not have money to buy two." "i'll get my brother, my cousin and their sons," tom nedley offered. "be down in the mornin'." "for that we will pay you." "aw, hans ..." "take it." hans grinned. "we are certain to get rich fishing but, if we don't, you will have something." "aw shucks ..." "take it!" "we'll be there." "thanks," hans said. mounting the cart, he turned the horse around and at a smart trot drove up into the village. ramsay sat proudly erect, feeling strength like that of a young bull arise within him. this was the village from which he had been driven in disgrace by devil chad, but it was a village he dared return to. any time he felt like it he would return to three points, and let devil chad meet him if he dared. hans stopped the horse in front of a cottage which might have been an exact duplicate of the one occupied by pierre and madame ledou. letting the horse stand, hans leaped from the cart and faced ramsay. "this," he announced loudly, "is the home of frog-mouth fontan, whose good wife is about to sell us a pound net. frog-mouth, by the way, is one of devil chad's closest friends." as though summoned by the voice, one of the very few tall frenchmen ramsay had ever seen appeared at the door. his mouth, the boy noticed, was oddly like that of a frog. as soon as he recognized his visitor, he emitted an enraged bellow and charged. hans grinned, stepped aside, and swung. but frog-mouth fontan was an expert fighter, too. he dodged, pivoted and dealt two swift blows that set hans' head to rocking. then the dutchman found the range, and sent his pile-driver fist into frog-mouth's jaw. he hit again, and a third time. frog-mouth fontan staggered, weaved backwards, and with a silly grin on his face sat down against the cabin. he continued to grin foolishly, staring into the bright sun. a small, dark woman without any teeth appeared at the door. she looked at her husband, then spat at him. "_cochon!_" she said. "pig!" she looked at ramsay and hans. "what do you want?" "one of your excellent pound nets, madame fontan," hans murmured politely. "do you have the money to pay for it?" "we have it." "load the net." ramsay helped hans lift the folded net, four pieces of three-and-a-quarter-inch webbing, two pieces of six-and-a-quarter-inch, and seven pieces of eight-and-a-half-inch, onto the cart. the latter sagged beneath almost seven hundred pounds of net, and the little horse looked questioningly around. but he stepped out obediently when hans slapped the reins over his back, and captain klaus squawked over them as they returned to pieter's farm. * * * * * the next morning ramsay stared in astonishment at a unique craft coming down the lake. five men, one of whom was tom nedley, manned the outlandish rigging, and it was propelled by two sets of oars. ramsay strolled down to meet it, and noticed some spiles--poles--about thirty-five feet long, that were piled on the beach. evidently hans had cut them, or had them brought down, after he and ramsay returned home. the craft, and as it drew near, ramsay saw that it was two sixteen-foot pound boats, bound together by stout planks front and rear, nosed into the pier. the crew disembarked, and tom nedley introduced ramsay to his brother, his cousin and their two strapping sons. ramsay turned a curious gaze on the boats. they were lashed solidly together by planks that kept them about fifteen feet apart. on top of the planks was raised a sort of scaffolding, connected by a heavy beam whose nether surface was about twenty feet from the water. suspended from the beam was a four-pulley block with a rope through each pulley, and the ropes supported an iron drop hammer. there was another pulley whose use ramsay could not even guess. shouting and scrambling as though this were some sort of picnic especially arranged just for them, tom nedley's boisterous crew threw the spiles in the water and floated them out to the boats. they tied them to the stern, then set up a concerted shouting. "hans! hey, hans! pieter!" grinning, hans and pieter, who had lingered over their breakfast after ramsay was finished, appeared from the house. tom nedley's brother said plaintively, "twenty minutes of six! half the day gone already! don't you fellows ever do anything except sleep?" "yaah!" hans scoffed. "who is so filled with ambition?" he looked at the oarsman who had spoken and leaped lightly into the boat. "now we will see who is the best man." ramsay jumped on board just in time to keep from being left behind, and hans bent his mighty back to the oars. in the second boat the other oarsman tried to match hans' pace, and the unwieldy craft spurted away like a frightened deer. trailing behind, the spiles left a path of bubbly ripples. out of the bay they went and into the open lake. then they turned south, obviously hans had some destination in mind. at any rate, he seemed to know exactly where he was going. they stopped rowing on a reef about a mile from shore, and one of the men retrieved a spile. tom nedley spoke to ramsay. "feel strong?" "sure thing." "good. we'll need some strong men around here. wait until they're set, an' then i'll show you what to do." hans and another man up-ended the spile and probed toward the lake bottom with it. they hung it on the other pulley and, when it was in place, the end was about three feet below the drop-hammer. hans fastened it to the pulley, steadied it with his hands and sang out, "let her go!" tom nedley handed a long rope to ramsay, bade him hold it tight, and two men in the other boat took the other two ropes. jerking the rope in his hands, tom nedley tripped the latch holding the drop-hammer, and instantly ramsay felt the weight. he hung on very tightly and was reassured by tom nedley's quiet, "you'll soon get the hang of it. when i give the word, let the hammer fall just hard enough to hit the spile. stop it, of course, before it hits the boys steadyin' for us." ramsay waited, his eyes on tom nedley. the big man said, "now!" the hammer dropped squarely but not completely, because ramsay tried to stop it too soon. again tom nedley reassured him. "just let her fall," he urged, as he helped raise the hammer back into position. "there's plenty of time to stop her, but don't be careless. that hammer weighs a hundred and seventy five pounds, an' i doubt if even hans' head would take that much fallin' on it." this time ramsay got the rhythm. the hammer dropped swiftly, squarely and with full force. it seated the spile in the lake bottom, so that there was no longer any necessity for holding it. hans and the other stepped back. again and again ramsay helped drop the hammer, until the pole was driven about eight feet into the lake bottom and perhaps four feet remained above the surface. it had been about thirty-six feet to start with, therefore the water at this place was twenty-four feet deep. it should be right for whitefish. "let me take that rope a while," someone said. gladly ramsay relinquished his rope to pieter, and rested his aching shoulders while he watched interestedly. the piles were being driven in a geometrical pattern, a sort of square, and ramsay understood that the first nine were to hold the pot, the actual trap. measuring carefully, the boats moved away and more spiles were driven. these were for the hearts of the net. finally, running straight toward shore, spiles were driven in a pattern that resembled the forks of a 'y.' to these would be attached the tunnel, the webbing that guided fish through the hearts of the pound net and into the pot. ramsay straightened, easing his aching shoulders. it was hard work, very hard, to lift the hammer and let it fall for hours on end. but now the spiles for one pound net were driven. the boy turned to hans. "gee whiz! how about moving all this?" "you don't move a pound net except, of course, to take up the webbing when the lake freezes. otherwise, we'll leave this right where it is. it is possible to fish a pound net in the same location for fifty years or more." "what's next?" "set the net. i think there is still time." they rowed back to the pier, where marta, who had taken over the treasurer's post, paid tom nedley and his crew. the big man grinned his thanks. "you need us again, you know where to find us." "we'll probably take you up on that," hans said. the ropes binding the two boats were loosened and the scaffold taken down. leaving the boat hans had bought, tom nedley and his helpers piled into the other one and started rowing up the lake. hans, pieter and ramsay went to the pound net. the pot, the trap, was loaded first. then came the flaring, heart-shaped 'hearts,' and finally the leads, or tunnel. setting himself to the oars, hans rowed back to where they had driven the piles. he tied the lead, the beginning of the tunnel, to the spile. a five-pound stone fastened to the bottom rope carried it down into the lake. giving the oars to ramsay and cautioning him to travel slowly, hans fastened the lead to each spile and sank it with stones. the flaring hearts were set in the same way. coming to the pot, hans first fastened a four-foot chain with an attached pulley to the pile. then he tied a rope, double the depth of the water and with some allowance for shrinkage, to the bottom of the pot. he did this on each spile, and they put the whole pot into the water. ramsay began to understand. in effect, they had set a gigantic fly-trap. any fish that came along would be guided by the tunnel into the hearts, and then into the pot. should any escape, the flaring sides of the hearts would keep them trapped and, nine times out of ten, send them back into the pot instead of out through the tunnel. * * * * * ramsay labored under the weight of a two-hundred-pound sturgeon which had been dragged in by the seine. hans and pieter hadn't wanted to bother with sturgeon because there was no market for them, anyhow, but ramsay had permitted them to throw none back into the lake. cradling his slippery prize across his chest, as though it was a log, he carried it to the pond and threw it in. for a moment the sturgeon swam dazedly on the surface, then flipped his tail and submerged. ramsay gazed into the pond. it was alive with sturgeon weighing from seventy-five to almost three hundred pounds. there were so many that, to supplement the food in the pond, they were feeding them ground corn. ramsay stripped off his wet clothes and dived cleanly into the pond. water surged about him, washing off all the sweat and grime which he had accumulated during the day. he probed along the pond's bottom, and felt the smooth sides of a sturgeon beneath him. it was only a little one. he swam on until he had to surface for air, and dived again. across the pond's murky depths he prowled, his white body gleaming like some great worm in the water. finally he found what he was looking for. it was a big sturgeon, and it was feeding quietly. moving as slowly as possible, ramsay rubbed a hand across its back. suddenly he wrapped both arms about the fish and took a firm grasp with his bare legs. for a moment, while the dull sturgeon tried to determine what was happening, there was no movement. then the big fish awakened to danger and shot to the surface. with all the speed of an outboard motor he sliced along it, and a moment later he dived again. grinning, exhilarated, ramsay swam back to shore and dressed. tradin' jack hammersly's rig was in the yard, and ramsay heard the man say, "marta, what you been feedin' your hens?" "the best!" marta said indignantly. "the very best!" "the best of what?" "why grain, and scraps, and ..." "and sturgeon roe?" "why--yes." "what i thought," tradin' jack sighed. "ye'll have to stop it. ever' customer as got some of your eggs told me they taste like caviar!" a moment later there was a rapid-fire sputter of french expletives. his face red, seeming about to explode, baptiste leclaire raced around the corner of the house. "get your guns!" he screamed when he saw ramsay. "get your knives and clubs too! get everything! we have to kill everybody!" chapter nine _pirates_ baptiste was dancing up and down, flinging his arms like the blades of a windmill and screaming in french. ramsay wrinkled his brow. he had picked up some french, but not enough to translate the torrent of words that rolled out of the agitated man's mouth. and never before in his life had he seen anyone so mad. baptiste was invoking every evil he could think of, a most generous portion, upon someone's hapless head. ramsay made a move to stop him. "wait. i can't follow you...." a few english words, among which ramsay recognized pig, dog and son of a rotten fish, mingled with baptiste's violent gallic tirade. he continued to wave his arms and yell. ramsay waited helplessly, unable to understand or to do anything. attracted by the clamor, hans, pieter, marta and tradin' jack appeared. very quietly hans advanced to baptiste's side. "what is it, my friend?" almost tearfully, grateful because, at last, he had someone able to understand, baptiste turned his machine-gun rattle of french on hans. ramsay watched the dutch fisherman's face tighten, and then it was set in white-hot anger. he waited for baptiste to finish, and asked in english, "do you know who did it?" "no." having worn himself out, baptiste lapsed naturally into english, too. he turned his hot, angry face on the others. hans spoke again. "go to madame fontan in three points," he said to baptiste. "tell her that i, hans van doorst, said that you are to have the nets you need. if she has not enough woven, get them elsewhere. madame ledou makes excellent seines and gill nets. go to the store for the rope you need, and tell them i will pay for everything. we ourselves will come to help you drive new spiles and make new sets." "it is good of you," baptiste's face was still flaming with rage, "but we cannot let the matter rest there." "nor can we," hans' tone was calm and reasoning, "go about shooting people when we do not know who to shoot." "pah! i know! it is devil chad!" "have you proof of that?" "the proof is self-evident. who but devil chad would dare do such a thing?" "did you see him?" "does one see the wise fox when he comes in the night to steal a fat goose? no, i did not see him." "listen, my friend. listen carefully. if this sort of piracy has been started and we do not end it, we are lost. but ours will be a small triumph if all of us get ourselves hanged. we must proceed with caution." "i do not like caution." "nevertheless, we must now employ it. we cannot rush off with guns and shoot because we suspect. get your nets and whatever else you need, and start anew. when you can bring me proof of the pirates, i myself will be the first to shoot." "it is the stumbling way." "it is the only way. if there is to be war, then let there be war. but we cannot strike out blindly. to do that will be to turn every man's hand against us. we cannot fight at all if we do not know our enemies." for a moment the dark-visaged little frenchman stood uncertainly. then he looked directly at hans. "i will do as you say," he agreed. "but should i catch anyone at my nets, they or i will not live to speak of it afterwards." "the same will happen should i catch anyone at our nets," hans promised. "but let us catch them before we act." baptiste leclaire swept his hat off, made a courtly bow, murmured, "your health, madame and messieurs," and turned back toward the pier. expertly handled, the _bon homme_ sailed gracefully into the lake. astonished, ramsay stared at hans, and pieter and marta reflected his astonishment. "what's got him by the ear?" ramsay asked. "baptiste," hans said, "had three pound nets which he tended with pound boats. he had a number of gill nets which he visited with the _bon homme_, a proper gill net boat." hans stared out on the lake, as though seeking the answer to some question that plagued him. he turned to face the others. "baptiste has no more pound nets. they have all been raised and ripped to shreds. the spiles to which he attached them were broken. of the gill nets he once had, one remains. the rest were destroyed. aside from his years of labor, baptiste has lost more than two thousand dollars' worth of nets." "who did it?" ramsay gasped. hans shrugged. "someone who has discovered, at last, that there is money to be had in lake michigan fishing. someone who will stop at nothing to get all of it for himself." there was conviction in ramsay's "devil chad!" hans shrugged again. "so baptiste thinks." "what do you think?" hans swung so fiercely on him that ramsay retreated a step. "you heard what i told baptiste!" the dutch fisherman said. "we must be certain! it is not for us to appoint ourselves judge, jury and executioner! before we act we must be sure!" "should we call in the constable?" hans said scornfully, "devil chad's man!" "what must we do?" "watch ourselves," hans declared. "hereafter we must leave the nets unguarded and the lake without our own patrol, only when we are sure it is safe. if someone has come to take from us our right to fish, we must be our own protection. at the same time we must not act blindly. the lake is big enough for all. if one has come who would take everything for himself, we fight." "you know it's devil chad." "i know no such thing." "do you suspect him?" "yes," hans answered frankly. "then why not take action?" "look, boy," and ramsay writhed because never before had hans addressed him in such a fashion, "lives are now at stake. let us be sure before we lose ours or take someone else's!" "you are right," pieter approved. "yes, you are right." puzzled, ramsay looked at his two partners. it was absurd to suppose that either was afraid; they had proven their courage too many times. yet, though both thought devil chad the raider, both refused to move against him until they had proof of his piracies. ramsay thought of something he had read, 'a man is innocent until proven guilty.' maybe hans and pieter believed that sincerely, while the hot-headed baptiste was ready to strike at anything at all. ramsay felt a rising admiration for his partners. "what must we do?" he asked. "i doubt if they'll strike by day," hans said. "if they come, it will be in the night. we'll make three watches, and alternate on them. that way they cannot surprise us." "suppose they come?" hans shrugged eloquently. "then we will fight and fight hard, for it is certain that no one else will do our fighting for us. do either of you have a choice as to watches?" nobody had a choice. hans broke three straws of different lengths, concealed them in the palm of his hand, and held them out. they drew, and compared straws. pieter had the shortest, the first watch, ramsay the second and hans the third. hans looked thoughtfully at the twilight-softened lake. "pieter, do you want to go out at seven and stay until eleven?" "yaah." "good. ramsay, stay out until about two and awaken me." "all right." ramsay ate the excellent supper marta had prepared, listened idly to the chatter of tradin' jack, who knew what had happened and was nervous because of it, and went upstairs to bed. in spite of his inner tension and his excitement, his head had scarcely touched the pillow when he dozed off. a moment later, or so it seemed, pieter was touching his shoulder. "it's time." "i ... huh? oh, yes." ramsay came fully awake, and pieter lighted the candle in his room. its beams sparkled brightly on the shining barrel of the muzzle-loading fowling-piece pieter carried. of a huge bore, the gun was charged with black powder and loaded with lead slugs. ramsay shuddered as he accepted it. such a gun would be sure to work great havoc among anything it was shot at, but its recoil alone would probably set a mule back on its haunches. "anything happen?" ramsay whispered. "nothing," pieter said. "nobody came. the lake is calm and the boat awaits you on the beach." "i'll see you in the morning." "good luck." his shoes in one hand and the shotgun in the other, ramsay stole quietly down the stairs and out the back door. he stopped to put his shoes on, and looked around him. a pale moon shone through disheveled clouds that gave the sky the appearance of a man sadly in need of a hair-cut, and the faintest suspicion of a breeze kicked up small wavelets. asleep on the ridge pole, captain klaus was a dull, shapeless blob in the night sky. ramsay cradled the shotgun in his right elbow and walked down to the beach. the pound boat had wedged itself lightly against the sand. ramsay put the anchor back in, carefully laid the shotgun on the rower's seat, and stood in the stern until he had tilted the craft from its mooring. sitting down, with a vigorous stroke of the oars he sent the boat farther into the lake. in the bay a fish jumped out of water, and the sound of its falling back made a tinkling splash. ramsay, dipping his oars quietly, steered toward the first pound net they had set. at intervals he halted to rest on the oars. there were no sounds save those that should have been present. except for him and the pound boat, the lake seemed deserted. lingering in the shadows, ramsay circled the net and saw nothing. he started toward another of their pound nets. they had kept the seine busy, taken good catches from their pound nets, and turned most of their money back into additional equipment. they were getting ahead and setting themselves up in the fishing business. by next year they should have everything they needed. they would not have to buy any nets, or boats, and could begin to enjoy the profits they were earning. ramsay found himself thinking of devil chad. fishing was very hard work, and expensive, but whoever did it well could hope for a fine future. lake michigan was a vast reservoir of riches, and they were to be used. there was room for all, but so was there room in three points. devil chad wanted that for himself. who but devil chad could now be plotting to seize the lake michigan fisheries? ramsay shrugged such thoughts away. out here on the lake he seemed able to think with great clarity, and he knew that hans and pieter were right. they must not lash out in thoughtless anger and hit at devil chad because he was the logical one to raid their nets. they must have proof, and strike as hard as possible when they struck. ramsay visited all three pound nets, and rowed back to the first one. the lake remained calm and unruffled. when he thought it was two o'clock--the night was divided into one watch of four hours and two of three each--he went in to rouse hans. at half-past five, when they ate breakfast, hans had nothing to report. if pirates were out to get all nets, certainly they had not bothered theirs. late that afternoon, when the fishing was done and ramsay, much to the amusement of hans and pieter, had carried six more big sturgeon to the pond, hans hitched the black horse and invited ramsay to go with him to three points. captain klaus, as usual, flew to the back of the cart and perched where he could caress hans with his bill. hans turned the little horse down the road leading to tom nedley's. ramsay stirred with interest. big tom nedley came out of his shed, greeted them, and looked doubtfully at the little cart. he glanced from it to a long oaken beam that was supported on wooden horses. when he looked again at hans, his voice and manner were almost accusing. "you aim to drag that piece of oak?" "you think i'm a fool?" hans challenged. "didn't think you'd drag it." tom nedley seemed relieved. "there ain't another piece of oak like that one in wisconsin. how do you aim to get it home?" "you have an extra pair of wheels and an axle?" "sure, but ..." "ha! bring me a wrench!" the wrench in his hands, hans set to work unbolting the clamps that held the body on pieter's two-wheeled cart. he lifted the body and seat off, leaving the horse hitched only to the wheels and the axle that joined them. hans looked triumphantly at tom nedley, and the boatbuilder scratched his head. "you needn't think you're so smart. i'd of thought of that myself afore i let you drag that timber." "why didn't you?" while tom brought another pair of wheels, ramsay looked at the solid chunk of oak. about twenty-six feet long, it was very fine-grained and it hadn't a crack or flaw throughout its length--fully seasoned, so that not a drop of sap remained in it. even ramsay, whose knowledge of wood was limited, could tell that this was an exceptionally fine chunk of oak. hans and tom nedley seemed to look upon it as they would have looked upon some valuable jewel. hans patted it affectionately. "stronger than steel!" he said fondly. "can you not imagine what a boat the _spray ii_ will be?" tom nedley said, "building from that, you cannot fail." for a moment hans was wistful, as though he had gone back in memory to the first _spray_. tom nedley brought another set of wheels, rolled them into place, and covered the bare axle with a soft blanket. he used another blanket to pad the axle to which the horse was hitched, and hans steered the horse into position. hans, tom and ramsay lifted one end of the oaken beam onto the rear wheels. ramsay helped lift the other end onto the other set of wheels, and stood aside while hans lashed both with ropes. ramsay watched interestedly. hans used his ropes to permit flexibility, while at the same time he took no chances on their chafing or breaking. apparently fishermen could do anything with ropes. ramsay tied the unbolted seat and body to the top of the oaken beam. hans took the little horse's bridle and led him carefully back to the road. mounted on its four wheels, the long oaken beam swayed and turned. leading the little horse, careful of everything that lay in front, behind and on both sides, hans set a very slow pace. it was as though the beam were a very fragile thing that might break should it brush even the smallest tree. actually, if it hit one hard, it would have broken any small tree in its path and rocked the larger ones. hans continued to treat it as though it were a very delicate thing. destined to be the keel of the _spray ii_, when they reached pieter's house the beam was lovingly set up on three scaffoldings made of four-by-sixes and arranged near the lake. hans patted it as lovingly as he would have stroked a favorite dog. "we have a start!" he said happily. "why do we need another boat?" ramsay queried. "for setting gill nets," hans replied. "you are not a fisherman unless you know how to set a gill net, and you cannot set a gill net unless you have a proper mackinaw boat." he petted the oaken beam again. "as responsive as a canoe it shall be, but as strong as a pound boat! this one shall not break no matter what happens. the lake will not breed a storm that it will be unable to ride out." that night ramsay's was the first watch. he rowed the pound boat from one to another of their three pound nets. no strange vessel disturbed the lake, no hostile creature approached. ramsay gave his watch over to hans, and slept until dawn. they fished, processed their catch and loaded thirty thousand pounds of whitefish onto the _jackson_ when she nosed into their pier. ramsay went with hans and pieter to a place where some mighty cedar trees, that had grown for centuries, had been cut when the snow was deep. their weathered stumps thrust six feet or more above the green foliage that surrounded them, and hans chose very carefully. he wanted only those stumps with a fine, closely knit grain, those which, even in death, showed no cracks or flaws. he found three of which he approved, and ramsay and pieter used a cross-cut saw to cut them off very close to the earth. ramsay began to understand the project in hans' mind. because of weather conditions, pound nets, at the very most, could be used for only about three to four months out of every year. the seine, though under no circumstances would hans fish in the spawning season, could be dragged in until the bay froze. but gill nets could be used for seven or eight months if one had a proper boat, and hans wanted to build one that would ride out any storm. it was not to be an ordinary mackinaw boat, but one such as lake michigan had never seen. its oaken keel had been chosen with an eye to the heaviest seas and the ice that speckled those seas in spring or fall. though some fishermen used cedar planking for the ribbing of their boats, and steamed it until it could be bent into the desired shape, hans intended to cut his directly from cedar stumps that had already endured five hundred years and ten thousand storms. then the _spray ii_ would be sheathed with the best possible cedar planking and calked with the best obtainable oakum, or rope soaked in tar. they would not float her this season. neither effort nor expense were to be spared in the building of the _spray ii_, and constructing her properly would be a winter's job. but as soon as the ice broke next year she would be ready to float, and they would be ready to set their gill nets. ramsay grinned fleetingly as he tossed bushels of ground corn into the pond so that the numerous sturgeon he had imprisoned there would have enough to eat. it seemed so very long ago that he had thrown in with hans and pieter and decided to become a fisherman, and he still hadn't two silver dollars to jingle in his pocket. not one day, scarcely one hour had been free of grueling labor. but they had two pound boats, three pound nets, had bought another seine, and with spring they would have the _spray ii_. in addition, there was enough of the season left, so that they should be able to catch plenty of fish before either ice or the spawning period curtailed operations. that would give them enough money to buy gill nets, as well as anything else they needed. none of the four partners would come out of this season with money in their pockets. they would own a sufficient amount of equipment for next year, and much of what they earned then would be profit. that night ramsay took the third watch. he rowed softly from one pound net to the other, always keeping in the shadows so that there was small danger of his being noticed. he had been out about an hour, and had two more to go, when he saw a boat approaching. it came from the north, three points, and its row locks were so well greased that not the faintest sound came from them. the oarsman was expert; he dipped and raised his oars so that there was no splashing. ramsay raised the shot gun. he leveled it. unseen by the other boatmen, he lurked in the shadows and let them pass. ramsay was somewhat surprised to see them give a pound net a wide berth and head into the bay. he followed, rowing his own boat silently while he tried to discern the others' intentions. there were at least four, and perhaps five, men in the other boat and they were going toward the pier. ramsay let them draw ahead, then circled around them and as fast as he could without making any noise, he rowed straight toward the beach. grounding his boat, he stepped out. he was aware of the other boat being drawn up cautiously. he walked toward the nocturnal visitors until he was within a half-dozen rods. he could see them now, clustered about the pier. two started for the barrels and the barreled fish. there was a faint whispering. ramsay waited to hear no more. had these people been well-intentioned, they would not be so secretive. plainly they were up to no good. ramsay pointed the shotgun toward the sky--he had no wish to kill anyone--braced the stock against his shoulder, and pressed the trigger. the gun belched its load of leaden pellets, and red flame flashed from the muzzle. ramsay shouted as loudly as he could. "pieter! hans!" dropping the shotgun on the sand beach, he rushed forward. the two men who had started toward the barrels and barreled fish came running back. ramsay glared his anger. though he could not be positive because it was too dark to identify anything or anyone positively, he thought that the man who stood just a little to one side of the rest was joe mannis, the body-watcher. ramsay swerved toward him, sent his doubled fist into the other's stomach, and heard a mighty '_whoosh_' as he knocked the wind out of his enemy. up at the house a door slammed. then a club or blackjack collided soddenly with the side of ramsay's head and set him reeling. he stumbled forward, feeling a little foolish because all the strength had left him. without being sure that he did so, he sat down on the sand and blinked owlishly at the night visitors. dimly he was aware of the fact that they were launching their boat and that he must stop them, but he did not know how to do so. a nightgown flapping about his legs and a tasseled red cap on his head, hans van doorst appeared on the beach. a pair of trousers hastily strapped about his own nightgown, pieter followed. both men looked quietly at the retreating boat, which they might have followed and would have followed had not ramsay needed help. they lifted him to his feet. "what happened?" hans asked quietly. "i ... they came while i was out on the lake, but they didn't bother the nets. they rowed right into the pier, and i don't know what they wanted." "did you recognize any of them?" "i think joe mannis was one." "devil chad?" ramsay said positively, "he was not among them. i would have recognized him." "did you shoot at them?" "no, i shot to attract you and pieter." "well, that's all right, too. they won't be back tonight, or likely any other night. come on." they helped ramsay into the house, bathed his head and put him to bed. he awoke to a mist-filled morning. no breath of air stirred. visibility was almost non-existent; the mist was so heavy that it almost hid the lake. ramsay, with all the elasticity of youth, had recovered quickly from last night's incident and he had a good appetite for the breakfast marta had prepared. then marta tossed her head defiantly. "all of you have been away," she announced, "and you have done many things. i have been nowhere and i have not done anything. but today i go to three points to shop." "sure," pieter said. "i'll hitch the horse for you." they cheered marta on her way and went down to cast the seine. the pound nets, having been visited within the past two days, would not again be visited today. aside from that, they had seined tons of whitefish and sturgeon out of the bay in front of pieter's house. naturally the catches were growing smaller. if they didn't take the seine too far out, and set it shallow, three men could work the windlasses. then, just as they were ready to fish, and just about when marta should have reached three points, a man on a lathered horse came pounding down the sand beach. he drew his tired mount up. "quick!" he gasped. "an accident! marta is badly hurt!" chapter ten _the great fish_ the great white sturgeon was not, in the truest sense of the word, a native of the lake. more years ago than any living thing could remember, he had been born, along with thousands of brothers and sisters, halfway up one of the many rivers that emptied into the lake. the sturgeon remembered little about that time, but just the same it had helped to shape him and make him what he was. the spawning sturgeon, a vast number of them, had started up the river together. it was a journey as old as the lake itself. side by side they swam, in such numbers and so many evenly-spaced layers that none of the many indians who fished along the river was able to thrust his spear without striking a sturgeon. preying bears, otter, panthers, lynx and other creatures that liked fish, thronged the river's banks and struck at the horde as it passed. so little did all their raids combined matter that it was as though they had taken nothing. no creature that wanted one lacked a sturgeon to eat. but the great mass of fish, impelled by the desperate necessity of laying their eggs in the river, swam on. only when miles were behind them and they were about a third of the way to the river's source, did the vast schools start to thin out. then it was not because their enemies took too many, though they caught a great number. the schools started to lessen because many, too exhausted to go farther or content with spawning grounds already reached, dropped behind to spawn. finally only a few, not necessarily the biggest but invariably the most vigorous, were left. day after day, night after night, stopping only to rest or feed, they went on up the virgin river. buck deer, drinking, saw the fleeting shadows pass, snorted and leaped skittishly away. drinking buffalo raised their shaggy heads and, with water dribbling from their muzzles, stared after the migrating fish. everything seemed, in some small way, to sense the mystery that went with the swimming sturgeon. they were part of the abundance of this wealthy land, and when they were through spawning, that abundance would be increased. the very presence of the fish was within itself a promise that more were to follow. finally there were only half a dozen sturgeon left. one was a very strong female whose spawn-swollen body even now contained the egg, the cell, that was to be the great white sturgeon. swimming close beside her was an equally vigorous male. all the sturgeon that had been able to come this far were among the finest and best. they stopped in a quiet pool which, within itself, was almost a little lake. a third of a mile wide by a mile and a half long, the pool rolled smoothly down an almost level course. it was shaded on either side by gloomy pines that marched like soldiers in disordered rank for a very great distance. there were no grunting buffalo here, though an occasional white-tailed deer tripped daintily down to drink from the sweet, unpolluted water. on either side of the pool was a mat of green sedges and water-lilies, and in them a great horde of ducks were rearing their young. they skittered foolishly over the water, seeming to pay no attention to anything save the sheer joy of being alive. now and then the water beneath them would dimple and ripple in widening circles towards either bank; and when it did, invariably there would be one less duckling. nothing paid any attention whatever to such casualties. life teemed in the pool, and there life also fed on life. it was meant to be, and the mighty pike that lived in the pool had to eat, too. weary, but far from exhausted, the female carrying the white sturgeon-to-be pushed herself into the sedges and lay quietly while she rid herself of the burden that she had carried so far. a million or more eggs she left there, and almost before she was finished two little pike that made their home in the sedges had started gobbling them up. the female sturgeon paid absolutely no attention, and neither did her mate, when he came to fertilize the eggs. they were here to do, and knew how to do, only one thing. finished, they had no thought as to what might happen next. the two sturgeon swam back into the pool and rested before beginning their long return journey to the great lake. but they had chosen wisely and well. almost before the parent fish left, a mink that had long had his eye on the small pike swam quietly down to take one while it was feeding. the other one fled. though other things came to eat them, in due time what remained of the spawn hatched. the white sturgeon was the first to appear. the baby fish came of strong parents, so that there were almost no infertile eggs, but such inroads had already been made among them that not one in twenty ever knew life. immediately they were singled out by hungry enemies. the white sturgeon should have died first for, though all his brothers and sisters were almost the color of the water in which they found birth, he was distinctly different. he was lighter--perhaps a throwback to some distant age when all sturgeon were white--and thus he was the easiest to see. but he seemed to have been born with compensating factors. when a foot-long bass, a very monster of a thing compared with the baby sturgeon, swam among them, they scattered in wild panic. the feeding bass had only to snap here and there to get all he wanted, but the white sturgeon did not flee with the rest. instead, he sank down beside a cattail and did not move. a tiny cloud of mud-colored water drifted around and covered him. thus, from the very first, the white sturgeon seemed to have a keener brain, or a sharper instinct, that made up for his distinctive coloring. though he should have been the first to die, he did not die. he learned his lessons well, and saw how many of his brothers and sisters perished. thus he discovered how to stay alive. for weeks he lived near his birthplace, swimming scarcely two yards from it and feeding on minute particles of both vegetable and animal life. most of his time he spent feeding, and he grew very fast. not until encroaching winter drove him there did he move out into the pool. most of the ducks were gone before the first thin shell ice formed on the borders of the pool, and those that lingered after that flew out with the first snow. the snow blew in from the north on the heels of an unseasonably early winter wind, and the white sturgeon saw the mighty pines heaped with feathery snow. snow lay deep on the ground, and the deer that came down to the pool seemed almost jet-black against its virginal whiteness. lingering in the shallows, the white sturgeon held very still. his was the accumulated wisdom of ages. ancestors almost exactly like him had swum in antediluvian seas when huge, scaley monsters roamed the earth, and perhaps the white sturgeon knew that, as long as he held still near the snow-covered bank, he would be hard to see. or perhaps he merely found the snow, his own color matched at last, interesting. right after the snow stopped there was a spell of sub-zero weather that threw a sheathing of ice clear across the pool and froze the shallows to the very bottom. only then did the white sturgeon move out of them. he did not move far because it was not necessary to move far, and anyway the great pike lingered in the center of the pool. almost one third jaw, the pikes' mouths were edged with needle-sharp teeth that never let go and never failed to rip what they seized. of the young sturgeon that lived until fall, perhaps two hundred and fifty in all, the pike had half before the winter was well set. the rest were too wary to be easy prey. all winter long, living on the edge of the ice and finding all the food he needed in the soft mud floor of the pool, the white sturgeon led a solitary existence. but it was not a lonely life because, as yet, it was not in him to be lonely. all he knew, and all he had to know, was that he must survive. every effort was bent to that end. in the spring, shortly after the ice broke up and moved sluggishly down the river, the white sturgeon followed it. with him went three of his brothers and two sisters, and if more than that had survived he did not know about them or where they were. nor did he care. in his life there was no room for or meaning to affection; he traveled with his brothers and sisters merely because, like him, they too were going down the river. the journey was not at all hurried. the white sturgeon, who by this time knew much more about the various arts of survival than he had known when he left the pool, passed the next winter in another, smaller pool, less than two miles from his birthplace. he chose the pool largely because it was the home of a vast number of fish smaller than he, and they offered an easy living to the pike, bass and other things that lived by eating fish. grown fat and sluggish in the midst of super-abundance, these predators were not inclined to chase anything that cared to avoid them or to work at all for their living. all they had to do was lie still and sooner or later the living would come to them. for his part, the white sturgeon had no desire to hurt anything. his sole wish was to be left alone, so he could peacefully pursue his own path of destiny. he grubbed in the mud for his food and idled when he was not eating. but, because he had a prodigious appetite, he was eating most of the time. as a consequence, he continued to grow very rapidly. again and again, while he pursued his lazy journey down the river, the white sturgeon saw the lake sturgeon swim past him as they headed upstream toward the spawning grounds. swimming strongly, they came in huge schools. spent from the spawning, they swam slowly past him on their way back to the lake. vaguely the white sturgeon identified himself with these fish. never did he have more than a passing wish to join them. he wanted only to continue his leisurely trip down the river, and time meant nothing at all. though the white sturgeon did not realize it, everything was part of a mighty pattern and a vast scheme. though there had never been a time when he was not in danger, the river had not been an unkind school. there he had learned how to avoid his enemies and how to become the powerful fish which he must be were he to live. then the river gave him his last test. he was near the mouth, only a few miles from the lake, when he suddenly found himself face to face with a monstrous pike. the pike in the pool of his birth were big, but they were dwarfed by this one. out of the shadows he came, a long, sinewy thing with the heart of a tiger and the jaws of a pike. even wolves' jaws are not more terrible. the white sturgeon did as he always did when danger threatened; he held very still. but this time it was futile because the pike had already seen him. thus the thing which must never happen, did happen. the white sturgeon came face to face with danger in its deadliest form. if he lived through this, then never again would he have to fear an enemy that swam in the water. suddenly the pike whirled, flipped a contemptuous tail, and drifted back into the shadows out of which he had come. he was not afraid; no pike is ever afraid of anything, but the white sturgeon was nearly as large as he and even the pike never killed wantonly, or destroyed that which he could not eat. the white sturgeon swam on. he had graduated with honors from the river's school, and he seemed to know it. for the first time since his birth, a mighty restlessness gripped him. not again did he linger in the pools, or stop to feed for a week or a month wherever he found a rich feeding bed. urgings and commands within him that had been passive were suddenly active. with all this, he remained a harmless fish. never born to battle, he had no wish to fight and he did not abandon all his hard-won caution. if the pike had not hurt him, nothing that swam in the river or lake would hurt him; but the white sturgeon retained a fear of those creatures not born of the water. aliens, they would not abide by the creed of the water. while heeding a sudden and great wish to get out of the river and into the lake, the white sturgeon stayed far from both river banks. a ghost figure in the murky water, he shot out of the river's mouth and into the cold lake. for a while he sported like a dolphin, rising to the surface, showing his white back, and diving. an indian who was spearing fish from a canoe stared his astonishment. trembling, he sheathed his spear and paddled back to his encampment. he had seen the white sturgeon, the ghost fish, and that night a mighty storm knocked down a big pine near the indian's camp. two people were killed when it fell. knowing nothing of this, lying contentedly in thirty feet of water where he was aware of the storm only because his fine and deep senses made him aware of everything that occurred above, the white sturgeon grubbed for food in the lake's bottom. the next time his tribe left the lake to rush up the river, the white sturgeon journeyed with them. he went because he must, because it was a call even stronger than hunger and he could not resist it. the strongest of sturgeon, he stayed in the fore-front of the spawning horde and still remained away from the banks. the few indians who saw him were so astonished that they forgot to strike with their spears, and he never even came close to the prowling bears and other beasts that waxed so fat when the migrating sturgeon came back to spawn. guided by the most precise of instincts, the white sturgeon went exactly to that spawning bed in the sedges where he was born, and fertilized the eggs that a female left there. wan and spent, caring for nothing, once his main purpose in life had been realized, he turned and swam back into the lake. that was now his home. again and again the white sturgeon went up the river with his kind. only once, in all the trips he made, was he in real danger, and that time an indian's spear scratched his side. the indian, fishing with two companions, promptly fell into the river and drowned. thus the legend of the white sturgeon grew. born in a red man's fertile mind, it was handed from red man to white and distorted in the transfer. now none could trace its origin and none knew exactly how it had begun. lake men knew only of the white sturgeon, and he had learned much of men. but he lived in the present, not the past. years had elapsed since lake michigan was shadowed only by canoes. now there were the mackinaw boats, the pound boats, the churning side-wheelers and the rowboats. because it was his affair to know everything that went on in the lake, the white sturgeon knew them all. he knew also that it was good to rest in the lake's gentler places. not in years had he rushed up the river with his spawning comrades. the fires of his youth had long since been quenched, and besides, he was now far too big to travel up any river. perhaps the same quirk of nature that had granted him his pigment had given him his size. other sturgeon were thought to be huge when they attained a weight of two hundred and fifty pounds. the white sturgeon weighed almost a thousand pounds. he was still a gentle creature, though the sudden angers of age were apt to seize him, and on the morning that ramsay, pieter and hans were called to three points, the sturgeon was feeding quietly in the tunnel of the first pound net they had set. he stopped feeding when he sensed an approaching boat. it was a mackinaw boat, used for setting gill nets, and it was shrouded in mist that sat like a fleecy blanket upon the lake. the white sturgeon lay very still. he was not afraid but he had no wish to be disturbed, and if he remained very quiet, perhaps he would not be bothered. he was aware of something coming into the lake and of the boat's withdrawal into the shrouding mist. the white sturgeon decided to move, but when he tried to do so he found his way blocked. a gill net was stretched across the entrance to the pound net, effectively preventing anything outside from getting in or anything inside from getting out, and the white sturgeon was trapped by it. gently he nosed against the gill net, seeking a way through. when none offered, he swam a little ways and tried again. a third, a fourth and a fifth time he sought escape. there was none, and the white sturgeon's anger flared. he flung himself against the gill net, felt it cling to his mighty body, and twisted about. a hundred yards to one side, in a weak place, the net ripped completely in half. the white sturgeon threshed and twisted until he had reduced the entrapping folds to a mass of linen thread. segments of the ruined net clung to him as he swam away. chapter eleven _fisherman's luck_ the horse that had galloped from three points to pieter's farm in order to bring news of marta's misfortune was too spent to gallop back. nor could he carry more than one man, even if he had not been spent. ramsay, pieter and hans left horse and rider at the farm, while they started up the beach. for a short distance they stayed together. then ramsay, the youngest and best winded of the three, drew ahead. a cold dread and a great fear gnawed at him as he alternately walked and trotted. marta had become like a beloved sister to him, and the messenger carried no news except that she was injured. how or why, he had not said. ramsay glanced back over his shoulder to see if his companions were keeping up with him, and discovered that they were lost in the mist. in any event the day would have been unpleasant. there was just the right weather combination to make it so--a hint of rain combined with warm air to drape the fog over everything. and there was no indication that anything would change. somehow it seemed just the day to get bad news. ramsay lengthened out to trot again, and then increased his trot to a run. he was breathing hard, but far from exhausted, and with a little surprise he realized that he would not have been able to travel so far without halting, or so fast, when he first came to wisconsin. a fisherman's life had toughened him immeasurably. once more he slowed down and looked around to see if pieter and hans were in sight. they were not. he walked until he was rested, then trotted into three points. as though there was something in the village that drove it back, the mist had not invaded there. it was on all sides so thick that the lake could not be seen and the trees were ghost shapes, half-concealed and half-disclosed. most of three points was at work, but the few passers-by on the street glanced curiously at ramsay as he swung past them. he saw the little black horse, tied to a hitching post in front of the general store. he bounded up the wooden steps, pushed the door open and entered. marta, the lower part of her left leg encased in a clean white bandage, was sitting on a chair. she turned astonished eyes on him. "ramsay!" "are you all right?" he gasped. "why ... of course, i'm all right!" "you're not hurt?" "a scratch!" she sniffed disdainfully. "just a scratch! i stumbled when i stepped out of the cart. ach! such a clumsy one i was!" the storekeeper's wife, obviously the one who had bandaged marta's leg, smiled her reassurance. "it is not bad," she said. "oh!" ramsay felt a moment's clumsiness because he could think of nothing to say, and again he exclaimed, "oh!" panting hard, deep concern written on their faces, hans and pieter came into the store. marta's surprised eyes opened still wider. "i thought you boys were fishing!" "we--we had to come in for some more twine," ramsay said somewhat lamely. "three of you?" "yaah," hans, never slow to understand, smiled with affected laziness. "you know us men, marta. there wouldn't one of us stay there and work while another was loafing in three points." "that's right." slow pieter finally understood that there was more here than met the eye. "how'd you hurt yourself, marta?" the wondering gaze of the storekeeper and his wife were upon them now. still puzzled, marta glanced covertly at the three men. ramsay looked at the storekeeper's wife. "you should have sent somebody to tell us she was hurt." "but," the storekeeper's wife was completely bewildered, "she is not hurt." "what's the matter?" marta seemed worried now. "nothing," hans answered blandly. "nothing at all. we just decided to have a holiday in three points." "go long!" marta scoffed. "men! they're bigger babies than babies are!" "be sure to bring us some twine," hans said. "oh, sure. that i will do." "good." all three men were smiling easily. but as soon as they left the store and were out of marta's sight, the smiles faded and their faces became grim and intent. "who was the man who told us she was hurt?" ramsay asked. pieter shook his head, and hans said, "i never saw him before and i don't expect to see him again. probably he was riding into milwaukee anyway, and somebody gave him a dollar to report an accident." ramsay nodded. hans, as usual, was logical and there could be only one answer. somebody was indeed out to capture the fishing on lake michigan. they had started by destroying baptiste's nets and now they were moving against ramsay and his friends. but they knew well the prowess of the three and had no wish to strike while they were present. marta's reported accident had been only a ruse to draw them away. ramsay started toward the sand beach, but hans laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. "wait!" "we'd better get back and look to our nets." "there is time, and we'd better not go blindly." "what are we going to do?" hans said grimly, "find the constable and ask him to accompany us. then, if there is trouble, and i expect it, we will have the law with us rather than against us." "suppose the constable doesn't care to come along?" "he'll come," hans promised. they strolled down the street, stopping in various places, until they found jake hillis, the constable devil chad had put in office, in the lake house. the woman who had given ramsay the steak and then made him wash dishes to pay for it, looked up and smiled. "hello." "hi!" ramsay grinned. "you didn't run, after all." "nope. i didn't." the constable, standing at the bar, turned around to face the three. he hooked both thumbs in his belt, letting his fingers dangle. his right hand, ramsay could not help seeing, was not too far from the pistol that swung from his belt. there was no readable expression on his face, but the woman, who knew him well, went hastily into another room. flanked by ramsay and pieter, hans walked directly up to the constable. "we have something," he said softly, "that demands your attention." "what is it?" "it has to do with nets and a raid upon them." "i got no authority over what happens on lake michigan." "nevertheless, we need a good, honest man of the law with us. and we will pay you well enough." jake hillis shook his head. "i can't go off on any wild goose chases. my duty is to protect this town." hans' voice softened even more. "i am asking you again to come with us." the constable's right thumb slipped from his belt and his hand dropped to the butt of the revolver. his fingers curled around it. as though by accident, pieter stumbled forward. strong enough to stop a bull in its tracks, pieter wrapped his own steel fingers around the constable's right wrist, and when they disengaged the pistol was in pieter's hand. "excuse me!" he said contritely. "i am so clumsy!" "well?" hans inquired. jake hillis looked from one to the other. he was like a drum which almost always must sound the cadence someone else beats. strength was the only force he recognized, and now he saw himself surrounded by strong, determined men. for a moment he struggled with himself. then "i'll go," he said. hans responded graciously, "thank you. we knew that you would come as soon as you understood the reason in it." "here's your pistol." pieter extended the weapon. "i got to warn you," the constable pronounced, "that i am going to hold you responsible for anything that happens here while i am away. and i better tell you that i won't put up with any law-breaking." "good!" hans said. "you are a conscientious man!" the mist dipped and twisted about them as they started down the sand beach toward pieter's farm. ramsay tried to find answers to the many questions in his mind. certainly somebody had lured them away from their fishing gear. who had done so? was devil chad involved? if so, why did jake hillis accompany them at all? certainly the servant would not willingly provoke a fight with the master. if devil chad was the leader of the pirates, did he trust his minion so little that he had told him nothing? ramsay shrugged: they would have to wait and find out. reaching the farm, pieter entered the house to get the shotgun and a pair of exquisitely carved pistols which ramsay had never seen before. dueling pistols, they looked like, and ramsay glanced curiously at pieter. the man was anything except stolid, yet he never spoke of his past and of what had really brought him across the atlantic ocean to this wild inland sea. ramsay dismissed the thought. in this country it was often just as well to forget a man's past or that he had ever had a past. jake hillis looked narrowly as pieter handed hans a pistol, kept one for himself and gave the shotgun to ramsay. "i don't hold with shooting scrapes!" he said. "and i don't want any part of 'em!" "there'll be none," hans assured him, "unless we are shot at first." they launched a pound boat, and hans took the rower's seat. jake hillis sat beside pieter and ramsay crouched to one side. a shiver ran through him. the mist seemed to be settling in even more thickly; they had scarcely left the shore when they were unable to see it. from the top of the house, the bedraggled captain klaus squawked his protest at such weather. hans rowed swiftly but there was no trace of hesitation in his manner, and ramsay marveled. the mist was heavy enough to cut visibility to almost nothing, but hans steered as certainly as he would have on the sunniest of days. he seemed to know the lake so intimately that, no matter what happened, he could still find his way. they reached the first pound net, rowed around it. ramsay sighed with relief. if pirates had come to raid, they had not yet touched this net. ramsay shifted his position, and jake hillis stirred uneasily. then, almost beside the boat, the water rippled and the white sturgeon surfaced for a moment. nearly the color of the mist, he lay quietly on top of the water, then dived. hans' low laughter rippled. "we have a friend!" he said. they were near the second pound net now, and ramsay gripped his shotgun fiercely. he could see nothing, but something seemed to be present. it was a half-sensed threat, like an unseen tiger crouching in the darkness beside a campfire. they saw the spiles of the second pound net rising like a ghost's fingers. slowly hans started rowing around it. then ramsay glanced behind him and snapped the shotgun to his shoulder. from shorewards another mist-wreathed craft appeared. it was a mackinaw boat, like the _spray_, and the men on her were only half seen in the heavy overcast. ramsay breathed a warning, "watch it!" hans let the boat drift and took the pistol in his hand. almost carelessly, as though there was no hurry about anything at all, pieter did likewise. jake hillis drew his breath sharply. the two boats came closer together, and ramsay recognized joe mannis. there were also three nondescript loafers of the riff-raff type who are always found on any frontier and who will do anything for money. but ramsay centered his gaze on the fifth man in the mackinaw boat. there could be no mistaking him, even in the mist. it was devil chad. the other boat came nearer and was much easier to see. ramsay felt a cold chill seize him. all the men in the boat were armed with shotguns, and they could sweep the pound boat from one end to the other if there was to be a fight. ramsay glanced at jake hillis. the constable was sitting quietly, tense and strained, but he did not seem to be afraid. devil chad's bellow blasted, "what are you doin' here?" ramsay heard hans' low laugh and his quiet, "the man is most uncivil." "don't get smart with me!" devil chad threatened. "you come to rob our net, didn't you?" hans, surprised, made a momentary slip. "your net?" "yes, our net! you come to rob it like you robbed all the rest!" chad's expressionless eyes pierced jake hillis like daggers. "what are you doin' here?" hans answered calmly. "he is here as our guest, and at our invitation. now let us hear some more about 'your' net." "you know what i mean! touch it an' we start shootin'!" "but we haven't touched anything," hans said smilingly. he turned to jake hillis. "have we?" jake hillis, too dull-witted for quick evasion, said, "no, you haven't." cold rage mounted within ramsay. he swung his shotgun so that the muzzle centered squarely on devil chad. if it came to a gun battle, he decided grimly, his arch-enemy would at least be shot at. hans, unruffled, took command. "where is your net? show us." "right here." ramsay heard the mockery in hans' voice. "and i suppose that it is a gill net?" "how'd you know that?" devil chad challenged. "i gazed into my crystal ball," hans said smoothly, "and i discovered that, when one fisherman wishes to eliminate a competitor, he can always stretch a gill net across the tunnel of a pound net. there is certain to be a battle, and whoever survives controls the fishing." ramsay began to understand. fishing on lake michigan was governed by no enforceable law but only by the ethics of the fishermen themselves. most of them were ethical; when one found a good fishing ground, others usually respected his rights. but there was no law that said they had to respect them. should one fisherman care to trespass on the rights of another, he could always find some way to provoke a quarrel. then, regardless of anything else that happened, he could say that he was only trying to protect his property or claim in some other way that his was a just quarrel. few people would be able to prove to the contrary. then a blue-and-white buoy, a marker used on a gill net, floated into sight. hans saw it, too, and again his voice was mocking. "is that the net you mean?" there were subdued voices on the mackinaw boat. joe mannis put his shotgun down and stepped to the bow of the boat with a gaff hook in his hand. he lay prone, stabbed with the gaff, and hooked the buoy. foot by foot he reeled in thirty yards of tattered gill net. hans' scornful laughter rolled like a barrel through the mist and bounded back in echoes. ramsay, highly amused, echoed hans. "find your other buoy!" hans called. "pull it in, take it home, and repair your gill net! but do not again set it on our fishing grounds!" the mackinaw boat floated into the mist. ramsay saw the baffled rage on devil chad's face. but mostly he was aware of the contempt of hans for devil chad. "here!" hans called. "you're missing a man!" he turned to jake hillis. the constable glowered back, like a stupid horse. "want to swim over and join your little friends?" hans invited. "no." "well, we brought you out from the sand. we'll take you back to the sand." hans' shoulders were shaking with silent mirth as he bent his back to the pound boat's oars. he steered in to the pier they had built, and expertly nosed the boat in to its landing. a mist-draped wraith, marta, awaited them. "what happened?" she queried anxiously. "nothing," pieter assured her. "a great deal," hans corrected. "they caught the white sturgeon, for no other fish in the lake could have wrecked a net so completely. i told you we have a friend." he took a pouch from his pocket, counted five silver dollars from it, and dropped them into jake hillis' hand. captain klaus flew down from the house top to alight on hans' shoulder. "_quark!_" he squawked. as though he understood perfectly, hans said, "that is right, my little one." and to jake hillis he said, "if you see them, tell them not to come again." deliberately turning his back on the constable, hans stared out over the lake. then jake hillis was gone, and somehow it was as though he had never even been with them. ramsay waited expectantly. hans turned away from his intent study of the lake, and he was frowning as though there was some complicated problem which he must solve. yet when he spoke, his voice betrayed nothing abnormal and there was no sign that he might have been under the least strain. "perhaps it would be well not to fish again today. that is a shame, for the season draws to a close and we cannot fish much longer, anyway. still, we have done all that it is necessary to do, and next year we will be well-situated. we will have gear and tackle. i go to work on the boat." ramsay asked, "do you think they will come again?" hans answered deliberately, "i do not think so, but no man may say for certain. they are not without determined and intelligent leadership. if he does come again, he will come hard and directly at us. he will not bother with the nets. there is no need to keep a patrol on the lake tonight." without another word hans turned on his heel and strode off to where the _spray ii_ was supported on its blocks. ramsay went into the barn, shouldered a hundred-pound sack of cornmeal, and carried it to the pond in which he had imprisoned almost countless sturgeon. with both hands he cast the ground corn into the pool, and returned for another sack, and another. then he stood with the last empty sack limp in his hands, idly watching the pond. it had been an exciting summer, the most adventurous and most satisfying he could remember, but it must soon end. already there was a hint of frost in the air, and frost meant that the whitefish would soon spawn. nothing could persuade hans to fish in the spawning season, when every fish caught meant the loss of perhaps ten that might be. even if hans would have fished, autumn meant storms when none but a fool would venture onto the lake in a small boat. ramsay turned slowly away from the pond. he wandered over to where hans was working on the _spray ii_. it was to be a mackinaw boat, somewhat like a canoe, and it was to be used for setting gill nets. these, ramsay understood, could be set almost as soon as the ice went out. handy with almost any sort of tool, hans himself had fashioned a wood vise that turned on a wooden gear. he had a section of cedar stump clamped in the vise, and with a rasp and a fine-toothed saw he was painstakingly fashioning a rib for the _spray ii_. unhurried, a true artist, he shaped one side of the rib to the other. when he had finished, it was a perfect thing, so evenly balanced that a feather's weight on either side might have unbalanced it. ramsay wandered away, satisfied. the _spray ii_ was to be no ordinary vessel. there would not be another mackinaw boat on lake michigan to match it. restlessly ramsay worked on the seine until marta called them. he ate, went to bed, and dropped into his usual instant deep slumber. at first he was vaguely irritated because noises in the night disturbed him. then he identified those sounds as the crying of an alarmed sea gull. captain klaus, on top of the roof, was vehemently protesting something. ramsay became aware of a strange, unreal sunrise reflecting through his bedroom window. fully awake, he rushed to the window, and saw that, down on the beach, all their boats were burning fiercely. chapter twelve _the pond_ captain klaus made a swooping flight that carried him out toward the burning boats. frightened by a puff of smoke, he flew back to the top of the house and continued to call querulously. for a moment ramsay stood still, petrified by the spectacle. then his shout alarmed the house. "hans! pieter!" by the light that flickered through his window he sprang for his clothing and hastily pulled his trousers on. letting the tails and front hang out, he donned his shirt and put shoes on his bare feet. he was aware of muffled cries echoing from the rest of the house, and a lighted candle flared in the hall. he rushed out to meet hans coming from his bedroom, and a second later pieter's door flew open. only half-awake and less than half-dressed, the latter blinked like a sleepy dog in the candle's little light. marta peered uneasily over his shoulder. "what is it?" "the boats are burning!" ramsay gasped. with a mighty, outraged lion's roar, pieter came fully awake and sprang toward the stairs. for one brief second ramsay was aware of marta's face, dead-white, then he leaped to follow pieter. holding the candle aloft, hans followed. again the dutch fisherman seemed to take complete command of the situation. there was anger in his voice but no trace of panic when he warned the other two, "slowly! go slowly!" his hand on the kitchen door, pieter halted. ramsay paused uncertainly behind him, and hans blew the candle out. the dutch fisherman had weathered so many savage storms that he seemed to know exactly what to do, no matter what the crisis. ramsay watched and approved. he must learn to be more like hans and to rule the emergencies that arose rather than let them rule him. hans spoke again, "let us not go like sheep to the slaughter. if they came again, they are probably armed and they may shoot. pieter, get the guns." pieter shuffled off to the dark kitchen and came back. ramsay felt the familiar shotgun being pressed into his hands, and he knew that hans and pieter each had a pistol. because that seemed the thing to do, ramsay waited until hans acted. the dutch fisherman spoke again, and his voice remained unruffled. "we cannot tell who or what is out there. until we discover exactly, keep out of the light cast by the burning boats. do not use your guns unless they shoot first. then shoot to kill. come on." silent as a shadow, hans slipped into the blackness that reigned at the back of the house. pieter followed, while ramsay brought up the rear. he shivered, but only part of his chill was caused by the cold night. this afternoon on the pound boat he had felt only tense excitement. but then hans and pieter had backed him and their presence had been a very real thing. now, in the night, he was almost completely unaware of them. it was as though he stood completely alone. ramsay felt his way along the rear wall of the house to the corner, and there the darkness was broken by the glare from the burning boats. ramsay crept up beside hans and peered around the corner. the mist was gone, and a sharp breeze had sprung up in its wake. every night, when the fishing was done, or any time at all when they weren't being used, the pound boats were pulled far up on the shore. casting a circle of light over the water, the burning boats illuminated the rising waves whose whitecaps broke and fell. a fierce storm was in the making. ramsay's fear gave way to terrible anger. the wind from the lake would have fanned the flames anyway, but obviously, before they had been set on fire, the two pound boats had been coated with tar, pitch, or something else that would burn hard and assure their complete destruction. they were already charred beyond the faintest hope of salvation. ramsay gritted his teeth. hans left the house and swung back, away from the lake, on a course that would keep him in the shadows. ramsay followed, and he was aware of pieter following him. there was not the least sign of the raiders or of the boat they might have come in. ramsay hesitated. perhaps they had done their work and fled, or perhaps they were lurking in ambush near the burning boats. five shotguns could be ready to cut down whoever came. then ramsay set all his doubts at rest. he knew what he must do. there could no longer be any question but that this was devil chad's work. he controlled everything around three points that made any money. he was out to gain control of the fishing, too, and he was not a man who would leave any job half-done. failing to provoke a fight because the white sturgeon had ruined his gill net, he had taken the direct approach. beyond any doubt he would be able to produce any number of witnesses who would swear that hans, ramsay and pieter were the aggressors. ramsay knew what he was going to do about this. "take the shotgun," he whispered, and pressed the weapon upon pieter. "but ..." "take it," ramsay repeated. leaving the shotgun with the bewildered pieter, he dropped to the ground and wormed farther away from the circle of light. into the shadows he went, then on toward the lake. now he did not know where hans and pieter were or what they were doing, but he was positive that they would take any action necessary when the time came. he no longer felt alone. this was a thing that could never be settled with guns but must be slugged out toe to toe and man to man. the fishing was worthwhile, and any man who would get and keep anything worthwhile had to be ready to fight for it. if devil chad had already fled, tomorrow they must go into three points and seek him out. ramsay halted, peering around. he could see nothing clearly. the flames had died down and there was only dimness, filled with varying shadows that were most difficult to identify. but what was that down at the edge of the lake? it seemed to rise and fall with the rising and falling waves. most of the shadows were there one second and flitted away the next, but this did not flit away, and after another thirty seconds ramsay was fairly sure that it was a mackinaw boat, anchored out in the lake. its crew had waded ashore from it and, when and if they ran, they would wade back to it. ramsay began a slow, steady crawl toward the anchored craft. the burning pound boats flared brightly, seeming to ring him with a halo of light. he shrank back, certain he could be seen, then as the glare subsided, crawled forward again. if he could see no one in the darkness, neither could anyone see him. he was within thirty yards of the lake now, and he no longer gave a thought to hans and pieter. he was sure only that they would be present when they were needed and that his way was the right one. there could be no compromise with destruction and no lingering aftermath of this outrage. whatever was to be settled had to be settled completely, and tonight. ramsay was certain now that the thing he saw was an anchored mackinaw boat. it remained in the same place, rising and falling with the waves, and no nebulous shadow did that. intent on the boat, he was not aware of the man until he heard his voice, "gus, you fool! i said be quiet!" ramsay held very still, and a rising exultation flooded him. he had heard that voice before, and there was only one just like it. he had heard it first when he stood on the _holter_--that seemed years ago. he knew that he lay within feet of devil chad, who was indeed waiting in ambush with his men. the angry voice repeated, "be quiet! they'll come!" ramsay rose and rushed forward, flinging himself into this combat with all the fierce joy of a newly awakened warrior. he had given a full summer, an important part of his life, to building up a career which he greatly loved. now he stood ready to defend it with his muscles, his heart and, if need be, his life. he saw devil chad rise uncertainly to meet him, not knowing whether he was friend or foe. he aimed a mighty kick at the shotgun in the other's hands, and he knew that he had knocked it completely out of his enemy's grasp. he felt a fresh burst of wind on his cheek and, strangely, knew all about the storm that was brewing on the great lake. he closed with his enemy. devil chad and his men had come to destroy and, if necessary, to kill. but they had counted on ramsay, pieter and hans, charging angrily up the sand beach. outlined against the burning boats, they would be at a tremendous disadvantage. a hail of lead from five shotguns could cut them down in almost no time. they had their choice between surrendering or dying for what they believed in. it had never occurred to devil chad or his men that an enemy would dare crawl into their very midst. the darkness that had befriended them now became their enemy. nobody dared shoot because nobody could possibly be certain whether he were shooting at friend or foe. ramsay edged up to devil chad and swung a tremendous upper-cut to the other's jaw. he missed, felt his knuckles graze his enemy's cheek, and stepped back for a new try. only vaguely was he aware of muffled exclamations that became shouts and then grunts. he knew that pieter and hans had closed in. then it was as though he and devil chad were alone. this was something that had to be. the seed that made the task necessary had been planted long ago, on the _holter_. it had taken deep root during the fight in the tannery. since that time ramsay had met every challenge the lake had flung at him. now he would have to prove himself capable of meeting the challenges men flung at him. then, and only then, could he survive. ramsay's lips framed a grin. he had taken the risk, and he had won. for one brief second somebody might have shot him down, then the opportunity was forever gone. now nobody dared shoot. he found a firm footing on the lake sand. ramsay dodged a terrific blow that would have knocked him flat had it connected, and went back in with his arms swinging. he sunk a left and a right to his adversary's midriff and heard devil chad's breath whistle out of his clenched lips. he drew back to strike again. like the bull he was, devil chad charged recklessly. he took ramsay's stinging blows without flinching, and the boy had to give ground. but it was not lost ground, and for one brief, glorious second ramsay stood and traded blows. his head rocked, but he took what the other had to offer and returned it in full measure. then he learned his mistake. a pair of gigantic arms were flung about his middle. they tightened like a vise, bending him backward and seeming to compress him into a space not half-big enough. his spine was ready to crack, and lights danced in his head. he gasped for air. the many lessons he had been taught by hans van doorst came to his rescue. four months ago, and perhaps even one month ago, the fight would have been ended by that terrific bear hug. but now ramsay remembered in time that he was not fighting a man alone but a man who was part beast. and it was never wise to lose one's head. a man must always adapt himself and fight like a beast if he fought with one. summoning all his remaining strength, ramsay drew back his right foot and sent his heavy shoe smashing into devil chad's shin. the fellow relaxed his hold and staggered back into the darkness. ramsay stumbled away from him. devil chad was a bull, he remembered, and he did not know about matadors. the next time he rushed, the boy stepped aside and let his opponent's momentum carry him past. ramsay's strength and breath came back. he became cool, able to reason coolly. devil chad outweighed him by fifty pounds, so he must not close again. if he did not, and there were no accidents, he, ramsay, would win this fight. for the first time in his life devil chad was fighting his equal. ramsay felt strength swell within him. it was the strength of the lake, and it had flowed into his body through the numberless sturgeon he had carried to the pond and from the many times he had helped bring in the seine and from the many fish he had scooped from the raised pound nets. he was no longer a boy but a man. the burning pound boats were falling into embers now, and as the light they cast receded the blackness of the night became more intense. wind keened in from the lake, and the waves assaulting the sand beach made themselves heard. ramsay waded in, his fists flying. in the darkness he was aware of devil chad coming to meet him, but his deception of his opponent was complete. from the first, he had had no intention of meeting him squarely. he stepped aside, lashing out with both fists as he did so, and felt both of them collide soddenly with devil chad's chin. the latter bellowed, swung his head and hooked viciously. but he hooked falsely, for ramsay was not there. his lithe body, dodging and twisting, now here and now there, became like the cape that lures the bull to its doom. devil chad swung and kicked, and often he struck his target. but he did not strike hard enough to bring ramsay down, and he could not again get a grip with his giant arms, although he tried desperately. roaring wildly, he charged. but it was a blind, mad attack, directed almost completely by rage and desperation. ramsay licked his upper lip, vaguely aware of the fact that he was tasting his own blood but not caring. he felt no pain, and it was oddly as though he sat on some high pinnacle from which he could watch himself and direct himself. both his fists lashed squarely into devil chad's face, driven by all the strength in his hard, young body. devil chad paused, as though bewildered, and ramsay knew that he was stunned. not stopping, throwing some of his caution to the wind, he followed up his advantage. his fists worked like cracking whips as he struck again and again. devil chad spun around, took two halting steps, and sank to one knee. he remained there like some carved statue, and again ramsay licked away the blood that flowed down his face. now, if he did the correct thing, he would go in and end it with kicking feet. he would beat devil chad as mercilessly as he had been beaten. but he did not. he waited, cool and poised, while the other bowed before him. only when devil chad lurched to his feet and struck out drunkenly did ramsay go in again, and he went in with his fists. he beat a continuous, almost unopposed tatto on his enemy's chin. the second time devil chad collapsed he measured his full length on the sand, and he did not move again. ramsay stood watching intently for several moments. he wanted to make certain that he had met his enemy fairly and defeated him fairly. how long he had been fighting he did not know. it seemed like a few seconds, but it must have been much longer. he only knew that he had come out of the battle stronger than he was when he went into it. he called, "hans?" "here," the dutch fisherman answered. his voice was strained, but even now there was nothing of desperation in it. rather, it was a joyous voice. ramsay turned toward it and saw scuffling men. he approached them and reached out with groping hands until he touched another man. it was neither hans nor pieter, and as soon as he was sure of that he swung. he felt a strong disappointment, for the heat of battle flared strong within him and, instead of fighting back, the man merely collapsed on the sand. obviously he had already been manhandled by hans and had little strength left. ramsay looked strangely at him, as though there was something that should not be. then he became aware of the fact that dawn had come and he could see. he turned to help hans or pieter, whichever needed it the most, and he turned just in time to see hans hit joe mannis so hard that the body-watcher flew into the air, described a little backward whirl, and fell on the sand. hans stood, shaggy and huge, breathing hard, but unbeaten and unbeatable. moving over beside him, ramsay felt that at last he was worthy to stand there. both watched while pieter teased the single remaining man, one of the hired ruffians who had helped set the gill net, then slapped him resoundingly on both cheeks. as though he were unworthy of further notice, pieter whirled on his heel and left his foe. the man went weaving up the beach into the lightening morning. hans grinned wryly at ramsay. "your face, it looks like a horse stepped on it." "you've got a couple of mosquito bites yourself." "yaah." hans grinned again. ramsay said, "they got our boats." hans said, "they got our nets, too. joe mannis, he told me that when we fought. they would get us, he said." "they didn't." "no, they didn't." they turned at a sudden wooden scraping out on the lake, and saw the mackinaw boat under way. beaten and bruised, devil chad crouched at the oars. hurriedly he sent the boat farther out, toward the open lake. they watched as though this were some foreign sight of no interest whatever. hans walked over to prod joe mannis with the toe of his shoe. "get up," he said. joe mannis stirred and groaned. he opened his eyes, blinked stupidly and raised himself on one hand. there was a deceptive gentleness in hans' words and tone, but joe mannis was not deceived. he knew that hans meant it when he said, "come down the beach once more after this storm. you will find something to interest only you. then never let me see you again. if i do, i will drown you in the lake." hans looked out on the lake, into the gathering storm and at the receding mackinaw boat. high waves were already clawing at it, and devil chad was not yet out of the bay. hans said, "he is not a fisherman. he is not even a sailor. i myself would think twice about taking the _spray_ out now." near the boat something white, something not born of the rolling whitecaps, appeared for a second and disappeared. ramsay smiled softly. he knew that he had again seen the white sturgeon. he also knew what joe mannis would find in the morning. devil chad. the three partners walked back down the sand to the embers of the pound boats. they stood near them, warming themselves in the last of the fire. ramsay prodded the sand with his toe. they were right back where they had started. a whole summer's hard work had gone to satisfy the greed and lust of one man. what they had left was the seine, the row boat, the forming skeleton of the _spray ii_ and the pier. ramsay set his jaw. they could do it again. they had done it once. he looked toward the mackinaw boat, and discovered that it had gone out of the bay into the open lake. but his eyes were attracted by something else on the horizon. a moment later he identified it as a plume of smoke. five minutes afterward, storm-lashed but defiant, the _jackson_ nosed out of the lake into the sheltered bay. manned by able seamen, sure of herself, the _jackson_ came up to her accustomed place at the pier. ramsay, hans and pieter caught her mooring ropes. resplendent in his uniform, little captain williamson came down his rope ladder and strutted on the pier. "a blow," he said, as though a storm on lake michigan meant nothing to him. "we'll tie up here until it's over, then go back to chicago. have you got any fish?" "some," ramsay admitted. he thought of the ten barrels of whitefish that were ready for shipment, and he watched captain williamson's face fall. the little captain emitted a long sigh. "some, eh? i was hoping for better news. chicago's growing like a weed in the sun, and it's hungry. most of the fishermen made their last shipments ten days ago. the markets are almost empty, and even sturgeon's bringing five cents a pound." for one brief second the storm clouds parted and the sun shone through. then the sky was again overcast and the storm leaped furiously. ramsay turned his shining face toward hans and pieter. the tons of sturgeon in the pond ... at five cents a pound there would be more than enough money to replace everything and to buy the finest planking for the _spray ii_. ramsay said, "save plenty of room on the _jackson_. we'll need it." on top of the ridge-pole, captain klaus fluttered his long wings and curved his sinuous neck. as though he approved thoroughly he called, "_quark!_" * * * * * _books by jim kjelgaard_ big red rebel siege forest patrol buckskin brigade chip, the dam builder fire hunter irish red kalak of the ice a nose for trouble snow dog trailing trouble wild trek the spell of the white sturgeon the explorations of pere marquette http://www.archive.org/details/roseofdutchersco garliala rose of dutcher's coolly by hamlin garland chicago stone & kimball mdcccxcv copyright, , by hamlin garland contents chapter i. her childhood chapter ii. child-life, pagan free chapter iii. dangerous days chapter iv. an opening clover-bloom chapter v. her first peril chapter vi. her first ideal chapter vii. rose meets dr. thatcher chapter viii. leaving home chapter ix. rose enters madison chapter x. quiet years of growth chapter xi. study of the stars chapter xii. the gates open wide chapter xiii. the woman's part chapter xiv. again the question of home-leaving chapter xv. chicago chapter xvi. her first conquest chapter xvii. her first dinner out chapter xviii. mason talks on marriage chapter xix. rose sits in the blaze of a thousand eyes chapter xx. rose sets face toward the open road chapter xxi. mason talks again chapter xxii. social questions chapter xxiii. a storm and a helmsman chapter xxiv. mason takes a vacation chapter xxv. rose receives a letter chapter xxvi. mason as a lover conclusion rose of dutcher's coolly chapter i her childhood rose was an unaccountable child from the start. she learned to speak early and while she did not use "baby-talk" she had strange words of her own. she called hard money "tow" and a picture "tac," names which had nothing to do with onomatopoeia though it seemed so in some cases. bread and milk she called "plop." she began to read of her own accord when four years old, picking out the letters from the advertisements of the newspapers, and running to her mother at the sink or bread-board to learn what each word meant. her demand for stories grew to be a burden. she was insatiate, nothing but sleep subdued her eager brain. as she grew older she read and re-read her picture books when alone, but when older people were talking she listened as attentively as if she understood every word. she had the power of amusing herself and visited very little with other children. it was deeply moving to see her with her poor playthings out under the poplar tree, talking to herself, arranging and rearranging her chairs and tables, the sunlight flecking her hair, and the birds singing overhead. she seemed only a larger sort of insect, and her prattle mixed easily with the chirp of crickets and the rustle of leaves. she was only five years old when her mother suddenly withdrew her hands from pans and kettles, gave up all thought of bread and butter making, and took rest in death. only a few hours of waiting on her bed near the kitchen fire and ann dutcher was through with toil and troubled dreaming, and lay in the dim best-room, taking no account of anything in the light of day. rose got up the next morning after her mother's last kiss and went into the room where the body lay. a gnomish little figure the child was, for at that time her head was large and her cropped hair bristled till she seemed a sort of brownie. also, her lonely child-life had given her quaint, grave ways. she knew her mother was dead, and that death was a kind of sleep which lasted longer than common sleep, that was all the difference, so she went in and stood by the bed and tried to see her mother's face. it was early in the morning and the curtains being drawn it was dark in the room, but rose had no fear, for mother was there. she talked softly to herself a little while, then went over to the window and pulled on the string of the curtain till it rolled up. then she went back and looked at her mother. she grew tired of waiting at last. "mamma," she called, "wake up. can't you wake up, mamma?" she patted the cold, rigid cheeks with her rough brown little palms. then she blew in the dead face, gravely. then she thought if she could only open mamma's eyes she'd be awake. so she took her finger and thumb and tried to lift the lashes, and when she did she was frightened by the look of the set faded gray eyes. then the terrible vague shadow of the unknown settled upon her and she cried convulsively: "mamma! mamma, i want you!" thus she met death, early in her life. after her mother's burial rose turned to her father more hungrily than before. she rode into the fields with him in the spring, when he went out to sow, sitting on the seeder box with the pockets of her little pink apron filled with wheat, and her sweet, piping little voice calling to the horses or laughing in glee at the swarms of sparrows. when he was plowing corn she rode on the horses, clinging like a blue-jay to the rings in the back-pad, her yellow-brown hair blowing. she talked sagely about the crops and the weather, and asked innumerable questions. often john could not hear her questions, which were like soft soliloquies, but she babbled on just the same. "see the little birds, pappa john. they's 'bout a million of 'um, ain't they? they're glad spring has come, ain't they, pappa? they can understand each other just the same as we can, can't they, pappa john?" john dutcher was not a talker, and he seldom answered her unless she turned her eager face to him, and her bird-like voice repeated her question. but it mattered very little to rose. she had her father's power of self-amusement. in case she got tired of riding about with him she brought her playthings out and established them in a corner of the fence. her favorite game was playing horses. her horses were sticks of the size of canes, and of all sorts and colors. each one had a name. how she selected them, and why she selected them out of the vast world of sticks, was a mystery to john dutcher. the brown stick she called dan, the fork handle, nellie, and the crooked stick with the big knot was barney. she had from six to ten and she never forgot their names. each had a string for a bridle and they all were placed in stalls, which she built with infinite labor and calculation out of twigs. she led each stick by its halter up to the manger (a rail) on which she had placed oats and grass. she talked to them. "now, barney, whoa-whoa there now! don't you kick kit again--now sir! kit, you better stand over here by pete--barney, you need exercise, that's what you need--yessir." she exercised them by riding them in plunging circles about the fields, forgetting, with the quick imagination of a child, that she was doing all the hard work of the riding with her own stout, brown legs. it was a pleasure to john to have her there though he said little to her. often at night as he saw her lying asleep, her long lashes upon her roughened sun-burned skin, his heart went out to her in a great gush of tenderness. his throat ached and his eyes grew wet as he thought how unresponsive he had been that day. his remorseful memory went back over her eager questions to which he had not replied. dear, sweet, restless little heart! and then he vowed never to lose patience with her again. and sometimes standing there beside her bed his arms closed about the little mound under the quilts, and his lips touched the round, sleep-enraptured face. at such times his needy soul went out in a cry to his dead wife for help to care for his child. he grew afraid of the mystery and danger of coming womanhood. her needs came to him more powerfully each day. when she began going to school with the other children the effects of her lonely life and of her companionship with her father set her apart from the boys and girls of her own age and placed her among those several years older, whom she dominated by her gravity and her audacity. she was not mischievous or quarrelsome, but she was a fearless investigator. she tested their childish superstitions at once. when they told her that if she swore at god and shook her fist at the sky she would certainly drop dead, she calmly stepped forward and shook her little fist up at the sun and swore, while the awe-stricken children cowered like a covey of partridges. "there! you see _that's_ a lie," she said scornfully. "god can't kill me--or else he don't care." she went on exploding these strange superstitious fancies, which are only the survivals in civilized children of savage ancestry. she stood erect in the door of the school-house when she was eight years old, and pointed her hand at the lightning while the teacher sat cowed and weeping at her desk. "you said i dassn't," the little elf cried, "but i dass't, and nothing ain't struck me yet." her absolute fearlessness of the things which children shrank from, the dark, and things of the dark, made her a marked figure. the women of the coolly thought it due to the lack of a mother's care. they spoke to the minister about it and urged him to see dutcher and ask him to try and do something for the child's good. but dutcher simply said, "oh, don't bother the child about her soul. she's all right. i don't bother myself about those things, and what's the use o' spoilin' the child's fun. if she wants to go to sunday-school, why all right. she'll go where she's interested." "but, brother dutcher, the child is doing outrageous things--heathenish, defying her god." "i don't s'pose what she does will make any particular difference to god. we understand each other, rosie and me. don't worry. if she does anything real bad she'll come an' tell me of it. _chk! chk!_ g' wan, barney!" he cut the matter short by driving away into the field of corn. he saw rushing upon him the most solemn and severe trials of a parent. rose was a sturdy girl and promised to develop into a maiden early, and there were a hundred things which ought to be said to her which must be said by some one. he was not philosopher enough to know that she held in her expanding brain the germs of self-knowledge. he had been passing through a running fire of questions from the child for two years, but these questions now took hold of deeper things, and they could no longer be put aside by saying, "wait a few years and then i'll tell you." she would learn them elsewhere, if not from him. he braced himself for the trial, which increased in severity. the child's horizon was limited, but within its circle her searching eyes let nothing escape. she came to dutcher with appalling questions. she not only asked him, "who made god?" but she wanted to know how she came to be born, and a thousand other questions of the same searching nature. he saw that the day of petty fictions had gone by. the child knew that little lambs, and calves, and kittens did not grow down in the woods. she knew that babies were not brought by the doctor, and that they did not come from heaven. "good lord!" groaned her father one day, after an unusually persistent attack from her, caused by the appearance of a little colt out in the barn, "i wish your mother was here, or some woman. you do make it hard for me, rosie." "how do i make it hard for you, pappa?" was her quick new question. "o, lord, what a young un," he said, in deeper despair. "come, ain't it about time for you to be leggin' it toward school? give me a rest, rosie. but i'll answer all your questions--don't ask about them things of the children--come right to me always--only don't pile 'em all on me to once." "all right, pappa, i won't." "that's a good old soul!" he said, patting her on the back. after she had gone he sat down on the feed-box and wiped his face. "i wonder how women do explain things like that to girls," he thought. "i'll ask the preacher's wife to explain it--no, i won't. i'll do it myself, and i'll get her books to read about it--good books." it was evidence of the girl's innate strength and purity of soul that the long succession of hired hands had not poisoned her mind. they soon discovered, however, the complete confidence between the father and child, and knew that their words and actions would be taken straight to john as soon as night came and rose climbed into his lap. this made them careful before her, and the shame of their words and stories came to the child's ears only in fragments. dutcher concluded that he should have a woman in the house, and so sent back to pennsylvania for his sister, lately widowed. rose looked forward to seeing her aunt with the wildest delight. she went with her father down the valley to bluff siding to meet her. bluff siding was the only town the child knew, and it was a wonderful thing to go to town. as they stood on the platform, waiting, her eyes swept along the great curve of the rails to the east, and suddenly, like a pain in the heart, came her first realization of distance, of the infinity of the world. "where does it go to, pappa?" "o, a long way off. to madison, chicago, and pennsylvany." "how far is it? could we go there with old barney and nell?" "o, no. if we drove there it would take us days and days, and the wheat would grow up and get yellow, an' the snow come, almost, before we'd get there." "o, dear!" she sighed. "i don't like to have it so big. do people live all along the whole way?" "yes, the whole way, and lots of big cities." "big as madison?" madison was her unseen measure of greatness. "o, yes. a hundred times bigger." she sighed again and looked away to the east with a strange, unchildish, set stare in her eyes. she was trying to realize it. "it makes me ache, pappa," she sighed, putting her little brown hand to her throat. when the engine came in with its thunder and whizz, she shrank back against the station wall, white and breathless, not so much with fear as with awe. she had never stood so close to this monster before. it attracted all her attention so that for the moment she forgot about the coming of her aunt. when she looked into the large dull face of mrs. diehl she was deeply disappointed. she liked her but she not love her! she had looked forward to her coming almost as if to the return of her mother. she had imagined her looking strange and beautiful because she came out of the mystical, far-off land her father often spoke of. instead of these things mrs. diehl was a strong-featured, mild-voiced woman, rather large and ungraceful, who looked upon the motherless child and clicked her tongue--tch! "you poor chick!" but the thing which had happened was this: rose had conceived of distance and great cities. the next day she said: "pappa john, i want to go way up on the bluffs. i want to go up to table rock where i can see way, way off." "it's a long climb up there, rosie. you'll get tired." but rosie insisted and together they climbed the hill. up beyond the pasture--beyond the black-berry patch--beyond the clinging birches in their white jackets--up where the rocks cropped out of the ground and where curious little wave-worn pebbles lay scattered on the scant grass. once a glittering rattle-snake lying in the sun awoke, and slipped under a stone like a stream of golden oil, and the child shrank against her father's thigh in horror. they climbed slowly up the steep grassy slope and stood at last on the flat rock which topped the bluff. rose stood there, dizzy, out of breath, with her hair blown across her cheek and looked away, at the curving valley and its river gleaming here and there through the willows and elders. it was like looking over an unexplored world to the child. her eyes expanded and her heart filled with the same ache which came into it when she looked down along the curving railway track. she turned suddenly and fell sobbing against her father. "why, rosie, what's the matter? poor little girl--she's all tired out, climbin' up here." he sat down and took her on his lap and talked to her of the valley below and where the river went--but she would not look up again. "i want to go home," she said with hidden face. on the way down, john rolled a big stone down the hill and as it went bounding, crashing into the forest below, a deer drifted out like a gray shadow and swept along the hillside and over the ridge. rose saw it as if in a dream. she did not laugh nor shout. john was troubled by her silence and gravity, but laid it to weariness and took her pick-a-back on the last half mile through the brush. that scene came to her mind again and again in the days which followed, but she did not see it again till the following spring. it appealed to her with less power then. its beauty over-shadowed its oppressive largeness. as she grew older it came to be her favorite playing ground on holidays. she brought down those quaint little bits of limestone and made them her playthings in her house, which was next door to her barn--and secondary to her barn. chapter ii child-life, pagan free rose lived the life of the farm girls in the seven great middle-west states. in summer she patted away to school, clad only in a gingham dress, white untrimmed cotton pantalets, and a straw hat that was made feminine by a band of gay ribbon. her body was as untrammeled as a boy's. she went bare-foot and bare-headed at will, and she was part of all the sports. she helped the boys snare gophers, on the way to school, and played house with the girls on the shady side of the school-house, and once, while the teacher was absent at noon, rose proposed that a fire be built to heat the tea for the dolls. she it was who constructed the stove out of thin bricks, and set a fire going in it in the corner of the boy's entry-way, and only the passing of a farmer saved the building from disaster. she it was who found the ground-bird's nest and proposed to make a house over it, and ended by teaching the bird to walk through a long hallway made of sticks in order to get to its eggs again. she despised hats and very seldom wore hers except hanging by the string down her back. her face was brown and red as leather, and her stout little hands were always covered with warts and good brown earth, which had no terrors for her. bugs and beetles did not scare her any more than they did the boys. she watched the beetles bury a dead gopher without the slightest repugnance; indeed, she turned to, after a long time, to help them, a kindness which they very probably resented, to judge from their scrambling. she always urged the other girls to go down to the creek and see the boys go in swimming, and would have joined the fun had not the boys beaten her back with hands full of mud, while they uttered opprobrious cries. she saw no reason why boys should have all the fun. when the days were hot they could go down there in the cool, nice creek, strip and have a good time, but girls must primp around and try to keep nice and clean. she looked longingly at the naked little savages running about and splashing in the water. there was something so fine and joyous in it, her childish heart rebelled at sex-distinction as she walked slowly away. she, too, loved the feel of the water and the caress of the wind. she was a good student and developed early into a wonderful speller and reader. she always listened to the classes in reading, and long before she reached the pieces herself she knew them by heart, and said them to herself in the silence of the lane or the loneliness of the garret. she recited "the battle of waterloo" and "locheil" long before she understood the words. the roll of the verse excited her, and she thrust her nut of a fist into the air like miriam the hebrew singer, feeling vaguely the same passion. she went from primer to first reader, then to the second and third readers, without effort. she read easily and dramatically. she caught at the larger meanings, and uttered them in such wise that the older pupils stopped their study to listen. scraps and fragments of her reading took curious lodgment in her mind. new conceptions burst into her consciousness with a golden glory upon reading these lines: "field of wheat so full and fair, shining with a sunny air; lightly swaying either way, graceful as the breezes sway." they made her see the beauty of the grainfield as never before. it seemed to be lit by some mysterious light. "cleon hath a million acres, ne'er a one have i," seemed to express something immemorial and grand. she seemed to see hills stretching to vast distances, covered with cattle. "the pied frog's orchestra" came to her with sudden conscious meaning as she sat on the door-step one night eating her bowl of bread and milk, and watching the stars come out. these fragments of literature expressed the poetry of certain things about her, and helped her also to perceive others. she was a daring swinger, and used to swing furiously out under the maple trees, hoping to some day touch the branches high up there, and, when her companions gathered in little clumps in dismayed consultation, she swung with wild hair floating free, a sort of intoxication of delight in her heart. sometimes when alone she slipped off her clothes and ran amid the tall corn-stalks like a wild thing. her slim little brown body slipped among the leaves like a weasel in the grass. some secret, strange delight, drawn from ancestral sources, bubbled over from her pounding heart, and she ran and ran until wearied and sore with the rasping corn leaves, then she sadly put on civilized dress once more. her feet were brown as toads, but graceful and small, and she washed them (when the dew was heavy enough) by running in the wet grass just before going in to bed, a trick the boys of the neighborhood had taught her. she ran forward to clean the insteps and backward to clean the heels. if the grass was not wet, she omitted the ceremony. dust was clean anyhow. her night-gowns were of most sorry pattern till her aunt came; thereafter they were clean, though it mattered little. they were a nuisance anyway. she wore a pink sun-bonnet, when she could find one; generally there were two or three hanging on the fences at remote places. she sat down in the middle of the road, because she had a lizard's liking for the warm soft dust, and she paddled in every pool and plunged her hand into every puddle after frogs and bugs and worms, with the action of a crane. she ate everything that boys did. that is to say, she ate sheep sorrel, indian tobacco, roots of ferns, may apples, rose leaves, rose-buds, raw turnips, choke-cherries, wild crab-apples, slippery elm bark, and the green balls on young oak trees, as well as the bitter acorns. these acorns she chewed into pats, and dried in the sun, to eat at other times, like a savage. she ate pinks and grass blades, and green watermelons, and ground cherries, and black-haws, and dew-berries, and every other conceivable thing in the woods and fields, not to mention the score of things which she tried and spit out. she became inured to poison ivy like the boys and walked the forest paths without fear of anything but snakes. summer was one continuous and busy play-spell for her in those days before her lessons became a serious thing, for as she sat in school she was experimenting in the same way. she chewed paper into balls and snapped them like the boys. she carried slips of elm bark to chew also, and slate pencils she crunched daily. she gnawed the corners of her slate, tasted her ink and munched the cedar of her pencil. and through it all she grew tall and straight and brown. she could run like a partridge and fight like a wild-cat, at need. her brown-black eyes shone in her dark warm skin with an eager light, and her calloused little claws of hands reached and took hold of all realities. the boys respected her as a girl who wasn't afraid of bugs, and who could run, and throw a ball. above all she was strong and well. chapter iii dangerous days a farmer's daughter is exposed to sights and sounds which the city girl knows nothing of. mysterious processes of generation and birth go on before the eyes of the farm child, which only come as obscure whisperings to the city child of the same middle condition. and these happenings have a terrifying power to stir and develop passions prematurely. rose heard occasionally obscene words among the hands. she listened unperceived to the vulgar cackling of old women during afternoon calls. before her eyes from the time of her toddling youth had proceeded the drama of animal life. she had seen it all; courtship, birth, death. nothing escaped her keen, searching, inquisitive eyes. she asked her father about these dramatic and furious episodes of the barnyard, but he put her off, and she finally ceased to ask about them. she began to perceive they were considered of that obscure and unmentionable world of sin, with which men alone had proper right to deal. when the girls of her age in the grasp of some gale of passion, danced about her shouting foul words in the unknowing way children have, she could not take part by word of mouth, though she felt the same savage, frenzied delight in it. she learned early the hideous signs which pass in the country to describe the unnamable and the covert things of human life. she saw them scrawled on the fences, on school-house doors, and written on the dust of the road. there was no escaping them. the apparently shameful fact of sex faced her everywhere. and yet through it all she lived a glad, free, wholesome life. her blood was sweet and clean and kept off contagion. her brown skin flushed with its unhindered current. she dipped into this obscure questionable world only momentarily, and came back to her father wholesome and happy, except occasionally when some outrageous gesture or word had stricken her into weeping. then her father told her not to mind; just be good and sweet herself, and it would help the others to be good too. he blundered sometimes and struggled for words, and talked in grotesque riddles, but she understood his meaning some way and was comforted. she did not go to her aunt. she had heard her say coarse words and she did not care to go and tell her of these strange things. her father was her hero and guide. she went to him as naturally as to a mother. it was a great thing for him to achieve, but he did not know it. he did not seek it. it was indeed thrust upon him. he would gladly have escaped from it, but rose refused to listen to anyone else, so the puzzled and disturbed father continued to be her timorous guide as a matter of need. he could not understand her quick perception--something seemed to rise in the child to help him explain. germs of latent perception seemed to spring up like a conjuror's magic seed, here a kernel, there a tree. one by one obscure ideas rose from the deep like bubbles, and burst into thought in her conscious self. a hint organized in her brain long trains of sequential conceptions, which she had inherited with her sex. she did not require teaching on the most fundamental problems of her nature. rose began to work early, but her work, like her playing, was not that of other girls. as she never played with dolls, caring more for hobby-horses, so she early learned to do work in the barn. from taking care of make-believe stick horses she came easily to take care of real horses. when a toddling babe she had moved about under the huge plow-horses in their stalls, and put straw about them, and patted their columnar limbs with her little pads of palms, talking to them in soft indefinite gurgle of love and command. she knew how much hay and oats they needed, and she learned early to curry them, though they resented her first trials with the comb. she cared less for the cows and pigs, but before she was ten she could milk the "easy" cows. she liked the chickens, and it was part of her daily duty to feed the hens and gather the eggs. she could use a fork in the barn deftly as a boy by the time she was twelve, and in stacking times she handed bundles across the stack to her father. it was the variety of work, perhaps, which prevented her from acquiring that pathetic and lamentable stoop (or crook) in the shoulders and back which many country girls have in varying degree. all things tended to make her powerful, lithe and erect. the naked facts of nature were hers to command. she touched undisguised and unrefined nature at all points. her feet met not merely soil, but mud. her hands smelled of the barn yard as well as of the flowers of the wild places of wood and meadow. meanwhile her comradeship was sweet to john dutcher. he hardly knew his loss of a son so completely was he companioned by rose. he had put far away the time when she should wear shoes and long dresses and become a "young lady." "let her be, as long as you can," he said to his sister. "she's a mighty comfort to me now, and she's happy; don't disturb her; time to wear long dresses and corsets'll come soon enough without hurryin' things." chapter iv an opening clover-bloom there are times in a child's life when it leaps suddenly into larger growth as the imprisoned bud blooms larger than its promise, when the green fist of its straining calyx loosens in the warm glow of a may morning. knowledge comes to the child, especially all the subtler knowledge of time, of space, of love, in a vague, indefinite, unconscious way, developing out of the child's organic self precisely as the flower blooms. this knowledge comes to definite knowledge for an instant only and then returns to the subconscious, waiting the next day of warm sun, shining water and smell of spring. each time it stays longer, till at last the child can contemplate its own thought and finally express it. these times form our real life epochs. one day in june, a party of the school children, with flashing tin pails and willow baskets, went up into the woods after the wild-wood strawberries. it was late june and the strawberries of the meadows and uplands were nearly gone. the roads were dusty, the pastures close-clipped. merry, bare-footed little creatures! they started forth in the early morning while the dew still flamed on the clover-leaves, and around each corn-hill the ground was still moist. the girls romped and picked wild flowers, the boys threw stones at the chipmunks on the fence, and tossed their tin pails in the air, performing feats of deftness in imitation of the circus-men, whom they had lately seen on the green at tyre. they entered the forest and kept on up the wood-road until it seemed as if they were explorers. they had the delicious, tremulous feeling of having penetrated into the primeval, where nothing but the birds and animals lived. on past cool deeps of poplar, where the mandrake grew, and the sweet fern spread its magnificent leaves. on until the strawberries appeared, growing in clumps on long swaying stems, pale scarlet globes of delicious tartness. they fell to work mostly in pairs. curly-haired carl kept with rose, and his sharp eyes and knowledge of the patch enabled them to fill their pails first; then they went about helping the others, whose voices babbled on like streams. everywhere the pink sun-bonnets and ragged straw hats bobbed up and down. everywhere fresh voices. the sunlight fell in vivid yellow patches through the cool odorous gloom. everywhere the faint odor of ferns and mandrakes and berries, and the faint rustle of leaves, as if the shadows of the clouds trampled the tree-tops. there was something sweet and wild and primeval in the scene, and the children were carried out of their usual selves. rose herself danced and romped, her eyes flashing with delight. under her direction they all came together on a little slope, where the trees were less thick, and near a brook which gurgled through moss-covered stones. "o, let's have our picnic here!" "all right, let's!" they made short work of the lunch they had. their buttered biscuits were spread with berries and mixed with water from the brook, which the girls drank like the boys, that is, by lying down on their breasts and drinking as the hunter drinks. their hunger eased they fell to games. games centuries old. games which the skandinavians played in the edges of their pine forests. games the english lads and lassies played in the oak-openings of middle-age england. the little ones were ruled out after awhile and the five or six elder children (the oldest only fourteen), went on with their games, which told of love. they joined hands and circled about carl, they sang: "king william was king james' son, and from the royal race he run, upon his breast he wore a star, which points away to a conquest far. go choose you east, go choose you west, go choose the one that you love best." carl selected rose, as they all knew he would. they stood together now, holding hands. "down on this carpet you must kneel," (they knelt) "as sure as the grass grows in the field. salute your bride with a kiss so sweet," (carl kissed her gravely) "now you rise upon your feet." again they circled, and again a little bride and bridegroom knelt. the fresh young voices rang under the spaces of the trees, silencing the joy of the thrush. the flecking sunlight fell on their towsled hair and their flushed faces. they had forgotten home and kindred, and were living a strange new-old life, old as history, wild and free once more, and in their hearts something bloomed like a flower, something sweet shook them all, something unutterable and nameless, something magnificent to attain and sorrowful to lose. when they tired of "king william," they all flung themselves down on the grass and grew quiet. some of the girls made wreaths of flowers strung on grass stems, while the boys studied the insects under the chips and stumps, or came slyly behind the girls and stuck spears of fox-tail down their necks. some of them rolled down the bank. carl, when he was tired of this, came and lay down by rose, and put his head in her lap. other bridegrooms did the same with their brides. some of the boys matched violets, by seeing which would hook the other's head off. silence fell on them. some passion thrilled rose as she looked down into carl's sunny blue eyes. she brushed his hair as he looked up at the clouds sailing above the trees like wonderful mountains of snow. she was thirteen years of age, but prophecy of womanhood, of change, of sorrow, was in her voice as she said slowly, a look not childish upon her face: "i'd like to live here forever, wouldn't you, carl?" "i guess we'd have to build a house," said carl, the practical one. she felt a terrible hunger, a desire to take his head in her arms and kiss it. her muscles ached and quivered with something she could not fathom. as she resisted she grew calm, but mysteriously sad, as if something were passing from her forever. the leaves whispered a message to her, and the stream repeated an occult note of joy, which was mixed with sorrow. the struggle of wild fear and bitter-sweet hunger of desire--this vague, mystical perception of her sex, did not last, to rose. it was lost when she came out of the wood into the road on the way homeward. it was a formless impulse and throbbing stir far down below definite thought. it was sweet and wild and innocent as the first coquettish love-note of the thrush, and yet it was the beginning of her love-life. it was the second great epoch of her life. chapter v her first peril she came in contact during her school life with a variety of teachers. most of the women she did not like, but one sweet and thoughtful girl had her unbounded love and confidence. she was from madison, that was in itself a great distinction, for the capital of the state had come to mean something great and beautiful and heroic to rose. there it was the governor lived. there the soldiers went to enter the army, she remembered hearing the neighbors say, and her father's weekly paper was printed there. it was a great thing to have come from so far away and from madison, and rose hung about the door of the school house at the close of the first day, hoping the teacher would permit her to walk home by her side. the young teacher, worried almost to despair over the arrangement of her classes, did not rise from her desk until the sun was low, rolling upon the tree-fringed ridge of the western bluff. she was deeply touched to find this dusky-complexioned, bare-legged girl waiting for her. "it was very nice of you, rose," she said, and they walked off together. she talked about the flowers in the grass, and rose ran to and fro, climbing fences to pick all sorts that she knew. she did not laugh when the teacher told her the botanical names. she wished she could remember them. "when you grow up you can study botany too. but you must run home now, it's almost dark." "i ain't afraid of the dark," said rose stoutly, and she went so far miss lavalle was quite alarmed. "now you must go." she kissed the child good-bye, and rose ran off with her heart big with emotion, like an accepted lover. it was well rose turned to her for help, for most of her teachers had not the refinement of miss lavalle. they were generally farmers' daughters or girls from neighboring towns, who taught for a little extra money to buy dresses with--worthy girls indeed, but they expressed less of refining thought to the children. one day this young teacher, with rose and two or three other little ones, was sitting on a sunny southward sloping swell. her hands were full of flowers and her great dark eyes were opened wide as if to mirror the whole scene, a valley flooded with light and warm with the radiant grass of spring. she was small and dark and dainty, and still carried the emotional characteristics of her french ancestry. she saw nature definitely, and did not scruple to say so. "o, it is beautiful!" she said, as her eyes swept along the high broken line of the western coulé ridge, down to the vast blue cliff where the river broke its way into the larger valley. "children, see how beautiful it is!" the children stared away at it, but rose looked into the teacher's eager face. then her flowers dropped to the ground, the sunlight fell upon her with a richer glow, the dandelions shone like stars in a heaven of green, the birds and the wind sang a wild clear song in the doors of her ears, and her heart swelled with unutterable emotion. she was overpowered by the beauty of the world, as she had been by its immensity that day on the hill top with her father. she saw the purple mists, the smooth, green, warm slopes dotted with dandelions, and the woodlands with their amber, and purple-gray, and gray-green foliage. the big world had grown distinctly beautiful to her. it was as though a gray veil had been withdrawn from the face of created things--but this perception did not last. the veil fell again before her eyes when the presence of the teacher was withdrawn. she felt the beautiful and splendid phases of nature and absorbed and related them to herself, but she did not consciously perceive except at rare moments. the men, who taught in winter, were blunt and crude, but occasionally one of a high type came. some young fellows studying law, or taking a course at some school, teaching to keep their place or to go higher. these men studied nights and mornings out of great latin books which were the wonder of the children. such teachers appealed to the better class of pupils with great power, but excited rebellion in others. it seemed a wonderful and important day to rose, the first time she entered the scarred and greasy room in winter, because it was swarming with big girls and boys. she took her seat at one of the little benches on the north side of the room, where all the girls sat. at some far time the girls had been put on that, the coldest side of the house, and they still sat there; change was impossible. rose was a little bit awed by the scene. the big boys never seemed so rough, and the big girls never seemed so tall. they were all talking loudly, hanging about the old square stove which sat in the middle of a puddle of bricks. she was an unimportant factor in the winter school, however, for the big boys and girls ignored the little ones, or ordered them out of their games. in winter also her physical superiority to the other girls was less apparent, for she wore thick shoes and shapeless dresses and muffled her head and neck like the boys. she plodded to school along the deep sleigh tracks, facing a bitter wind, with the heart of a man. it made her cry sometimes but there was more of rage than fear in her sobbing. she coughed and wheezed like the rest, but through it all her perfect lungs and sinewy heart carried her triumphantly. the winter she was fourteen years of age she had for teacher a girl whose beautiful presence brought a curse with it. she was small and graceful, with a face full of sudden tears and laughter and dreams of desire. she fascinated the children, and the larger boys woke to a sudden savagery of rivalry over her, which no one understood. the older boys fought over her smiles and low-voiced words of praise. the girls grew vaguely jealous or were abject slaves to her whims. the school became farcical in session, with ever-increasing play hours and ever-shortening recitations, and yet such was the teacher's power over the students they did not report her. she gathered the larger girls around her as she flirted with the young men, until children like carl and rose became a part of it all. at night the young men of the neighborhood flocked about her boarding-place, absolutely fighting in her very presence for the promise which she withheld, out of coquettish perversity. she herself became a victim of the storm of passion which swept over the neighborhood. she went out to parties and dances every night and came languidly to school each morning. most of the men of the district laughed, but the women began to talk excitedly about the stories they heard. at school the most dangerous practices were winked at. the older boys did not scruple to put their arms about the teacher's waist as they stood by her side. all the reserve and purity which is organic in the intercourse of most country girls and boys seemed lost, and parties and sleigh-rides left remorse and guilt behind. there was something feverish and unwholesome in the air. the teacher's fame mysteriously extended to tyre, and when known libertines began to hitch their horses at the fence before her house and to enter into rivalry with the young men of the neighborhood, then the fathers of the coulé suddenly awoke to their children's danger, and turning the teacher away (tearful and looking harmless as a kitten), they closed and locked the school-house door. instantly the young people grew aware of their out-break of premature passion. some of them, like rose, went to their parents and told all they knew about it. john dutcher received his daughter's answers to his questions with deep sorrow, but he reflected long before he spoke. she was only a child, not yet fifteen; she would outgrow the touch of thoughtless hands. he sent for carl, and as they stood before him, with drooping heads, he talked to them in his low, mild voice, which had the power of bringing tears to the sturdy boy's eyes. "carl, i thought i could trust you. you've done wrong--don't you know it? you've made my old heart ache. when you get old and have a little girl you may know how i feel, but you can't now. i don't know what i can say to you. i don't know what i am going to do about it, but i want you to know what you've done to me--both of you. look into my face now--you too, rose--look into your old father's face!" the scared children looked into his face with its streaming tears, then broke out into sobbing that shook them to their heart's center. they could not bear to see him cry. "that's what you do to your parents when you do wrong. i haven't felt so bad since your mother died, rose." the children sobbed out their contrition and desire to do better, and john ended it all at last by saying, "now, carl, you may go, but i shall keep watch of you and see that you grow up a good, true man. when i see you're real sorry i'll let you come to see rose again." after carl went out, rose pressed into his ready arms. "i didn't mean to be bad, pappa." "i know you didn't, rosie, but i want you to know how you can make me suffer by doing wrong--but there, there! don't cry any more. if you are good and kind and true like your mother was you'll outgrow this trouble. now run away and help get supper." the buoyancy of a healthy child's nature enabled her to throw off the oppression of that dark day, the most terrible day of her life, and she was soon cheerful again, not the child she had been, but still a happy child. after a few weeks john sent for carl to come over, and they popped corn and played dominos all the evening, and the innocency of their former childish companionship seemed restored. chapter vi her first ideal one june day a man came riding swiftly up the lanes, in a buggy with a gilded box. as he passed the school-house he flung a handful of fluttering yellow and red bills into the air. "a circus! a circus!" was the cry as the boys rushed for the blowing sheets of paper. it was a circus, the annual "monstrous aggregation of gregorian games and colossal cataracts of gilded chariots," and it was coming to tyre. the children read every word of those high sounding posters, standing in knots by the roadside. it was the mightiest event of their lives. most of them had never been to a circus. many had never been so far as tyre. some had, however, and they straightway became fountains of wisdom, and declaimed upon the splendors of other aggregations. rose looked at the lines of knights and ladies winding down the yellow broadside of the sheet, and wondered if she would ever see them. the courier rode on. he flung a handful of the bills over into the corn-field where carl was plowing corn with the hired man, and carl straightway began to plan. he flung a handful of the alluring yellow leaves into the bed of the wagon which poor old john rapp was driving, and he sighed and wondered how he would raise the money to take the children down, and also he longed to see it himself. the whole county awoke to the significance of the event and began preparation and plans, though it was nearly three weeks away. an enormous distance it seemed to the boys and girls. at school and at church it was talked of. the boys selected their girls, and parties of four or six were made up to go to tyre, ten miles away, in the larger valley below. in some way, without words, rose agreed to go with carl. john nixon and ella pierce made up the other couple. they were to go in a "bowery wagon." the whole population awoke to pathetic, absorbing interest in the quality of the posters and the probable truth of the fore-word. the circus was the mightiest contrast to their slow and lonely lives that could be imagined. it came in trailing clouds of glorified dust and grouped itself under vast tents whose lift and fall had more majesty than summer clouds, and its streamers had more significance than the lightning. it brought the throb of drum and scream of fife, and roar of wild beast. for one day each humdrum town was filled with romance like the arabian nights; with helmeted horsemen, glittering war maidens on weirdly spotted horses; elephants with howdahs and head-plates of armor, with lions dreadful, sorrowful, sedate and savage; with tigers and hyenas in unmanageable ferocity pacing up and down their gilded dens while their impassive keepers dressed in red, sat in awful silence amidst them. there was something remote and splendid in the ladies who rode haughtily through the streets on prancing horses, covered with red and gold trappings. there was something heroic, something of splendid art in the pose of the athletes in the ring. from the dust and drudgery of their farms the farm boys dreamed and dreamed of the power and splendor of the pageantry. they talked it each sunday night as they sat up with their sweethearts. the girls planned their dresses and hats, and the lunch they were to take. everything was arranged weeks ahead. carl was to furnish one team, john the other; ella was to bring cake and jelly and biscuit; rose to take a chicken and a shortcake. they were to start early and drive a certain route and arrive at the ground at a certain hour to see the parade. after the parade they were to take dinner at the hotel, and then the circus! no court ball ever thrilled a young girl's heart like this event. it was trebly important to rose. it was her first really long dress. it was her first going out into the world with an escort, and it was her first circus. she trembled with excitement whenever she thought of it, and sometimes burst into tears at the uncertainty of it. it might rain, she might be sick, or something might happen! she worked away with feverish haste, trimming her hat and helping on her dress, which was to be white, trimmed with real lace from the store. some dim perception of what it all meant to his girl, penetrated john dutcher's head, and he gave rose a dollar to buy some extra ribbon with, and told mrs. diehl to give the child a good outfit. on the night before the circus carl could not work in the corn. he drove furiously about the neighborhood on inconsequential errands. he called twice on rose, and they looked into each other's face with transports of fear and joy. "o, if it should rain!" "it won't. i just know it's going to be fine. don't you worry. i am the son of a prophet. i know it can't rain." there was no real sleep for rose that night. twice she woke from an uneasy doze, thinking she heard the patter of rain, but listening close she knew it was only the rustle of the cottonwood trees about the house. her room was a little rough-plastered garret room, with an eastern window, and at last she saw the yellow light inter-filtrate the dark-blue of the eastern sky, and she rose and pattered about in her bare feet, while she put up her hair like a woman and slipped on her underskirt, stiff with starch, and then her dress, with its open-work sleeves and ruche of lace, threaded with blue ribbon. she moved about on her bare feet, rejoicing in the crisp rustle of her new clothing, and put on her wide hat with its hectic rose-buds and paris-green thick leaves. her undistorted feet were the most beautiful of all, but she did not know that. she sat on the bed completely dressed, but hardly daring to move for fear of waking her aunt. she watched the yellow glow deepen to a saffron dome of ever-spreading light. she knew the weather signs herself, and she was sure the day was to be hot but clear. she did not fear the heat. as she sat so, a feeling of joy, of realization of the abounding goodness and sweetness of living, made her want to thank something--to give praise. she moved her lips in a little prayer of thanks to the sun, as his first glittering rim of light came above the low hills. "rosie!" called mrs. diehl. "i'm up," she replied, and hastily drew on her shoes and stockings. she took her hat in her hands and went down the stairs and through the little sitting room out to the door-step. she heard someone whistling. then a shout of laughter--they were coming! she had packed her basket the night before, and she stood ready at the gate when carl and his companions drove up. they had four horses hitched to a large wagon, which was set about with branches of oak and willow. carl was driving and rose mounted to the front seat with him. he cracked his whip and they whirled away, leaving the old folks calling warnings after them. the sun was just rising, the dew was still globed on the wild roses. the wagon rumbled, the bower over their heads shook with the jar of the wheels. the horses were fresh and strong and the day was before them. rose felt something vague and sweet, something that laved the whole world like sunlight. she was too happy to sing. she only sat and dreamed. she felt her clothes, but she was no longer acutely conscious of them. carl was moved too, but his emotion vented itself in shouts and cheery calls to the horses, and to the pistol-like cracking of his whip. he looked at her with clear-eyed admiration. she abashed him a little by her silence. she seemed so strangely womanly in that pose, and the glow of her firm arms through her sleeve was alien, somehow. the road led around hill sides, under young oak trees, across dappled sands, and over little streams where the horses stopped to drink. it was like some world-old idyl, this ride in a heavy rumbling wagon; it led to glory and light, this road among the hills. rounding a long low line of bluffs they caught the flutter of flags in tyre, and saw the valley spotted with other teams, crawling like beetles down the sandy river roads. the whole land seemed to be moving in gala dress toward tyre. everywhere appeared the same expectancy, the same exultation between lovers. carl pulled up with a flourish at the wooden porch of the farmers' hotel, and the girls alighted and went into the parlor, while the boys took the horses into a back alley and gave them their oats and hay in the end of the box. as rose walked into the parlor, filled with other girls and young men, the proud consciousness of her clothes came back to her, and she carried herself with a lift of the head, which made her dark gipsy-like face look haughty as a young queen's. she knew her dress was as good as any other there, and she had no need to be ashamed, and besides it was her first long dress, and she wore low shoes. the boys came bustling back and hurried the girls out on the sidewalk. "they're coming!" they cried breathlessly, as a far-off burst of music came in on a warm puff of wind. on they came, a band leading the way. just behind, with glitter of lance and shine of helmet, came a dozen knights and fair ladies riding spirited chargers. they all looked strange and haughty and sneeringly indifferent to the cheers of the people. the women seemed small and firm and scornful, and the men rode with lances uplifted looking down at the crowd with a haughty droop in their eyelids. rose shuddered with a new emotion as they swept past. she had never looked into eyes like those. they had wearied of all splendor and triumph, those eyes. they cared nothing for flaunt of flag or blast of bugle. they rode straight out of the wonder and mystery of the morning to her. they came from the unknown spaces of song and story beyond the hills. the chariots rumbled by almost unheeded by rose. she did not laugh at the clown jiggling by in a pony-cart for there was a face between her and all that followed. the face of a bare-armed knight, with brown hair and a curling mustache, whose proud neck had a curve in it as he bent his head to speak to his rearing horse. he turned his face toward where rose stood, and her soul fluttered, and her flesh shrank as if from fire, but he rode on. his face was fine, like pictures she had seen. it was a pleasant face, too proud, but not coarse and stern like the others. the calliope, (a musical monster, hideous as the hippopotamus) and the dens of beasts went past without arousing her interest; then the open cage of lions rolled by with a trainer carelessly seated on a camp stool amid his dun-colored monsters. his gaudy red-and-gold continental coat and his impassive face made a deep impression on her. at last the procession passed, carrying with it swarms of detached boys and girls, whose parents fearfully called after them and unavailingly plead with them to come back as they broke away. "o, i wish it would all come by again!" sighed ella. "so do i," said carl. rose remained silent. somehow those knights and ladies dwarfed all else. she did not look forward to eating a hotel dinner with the same pleasure now, but was eager to get to the tent, whose pennants streamed above the roofs of the houses. the hotel swarmed with farmer folks, whose loud voices uttered shouts of satisfaction over the promise of the parade. it was the best ever seen in the town. "right this way, ladies and gentlemen," said the landlord, as he ushered carl's party down to a table at the end of the dining-room. rose felt a thrill of delight; she was a grown-up person at last. this landlord recognized her assumption and it made the dinner almost enjoyable. she saw no one better dressed than herself, and she had a feeling that she was good to look at. she was really more beautiful than she knew. a city drummer sitting at another table eyed her all through the meal with breathless admiration. her health and color, and the firm lines of her nose and chin were especially attractive. they all ate with unusual formality, using their forks instead of knives for their pie, and otherwise trying to seem citified. ella laughed at the antics john cut up over his fork, and the sly digs that he gave carl, who chased the crust of his pie around his plate with a fork and at last gave it up and seized it with his fingers. no one noticed these pranks, because everyone else was carrying on in much the same way. at length they rose and returned to the parlor, where they sat about on the cheap red plush chairs and waited for o'clock. "well, it's about time to go," said carl, on one of his re-entries from the street. "gee-whittaker! but it's hot out there!" "it'll be cool under the tent." "well, come on." out on the street they joined the stream of lovers like themselves, moving hand in hand down the walk, assaulted by cries of lemonade, candy and fruit hucksters. the sun beat upon their heads; a dust arose from the feet of the passing teams and settled upon the white dresses of the girls, and sank through the meshes of their sleeves and gathered in the moist folds of their ruches. they moved on rapidly toward the clanging band, the flutter of the pennants and the brazen outcries of the ticket-takers. on to the square before the tents, thronged with innumerable people, an avenue of side-shows faced them like a gauntlet to be run. before each flapping sign of fat woman, or snake charmer, stood a man who cried in strange, clanging, monotonous and rhythmical voice: "you still have a half an hour, ladies and gentlemen, before the great show opens. come in and see the wonders of the world." before the ticket wagon a straggling, excited crowd wrestled, suspicious, determined, hurried. leaving their girls in the more open space, the boys drew deep breaths of resolution and plunged into the press with set, determined faces. they returned soon, hot, disarranged but triumphant. "come on, girls." they moved upon the main entrance, where a man stood snatching at the tickets which were handed to him. he was humorous, and talked as he pushed the people in. "hurry up, old man; trot close after your mother. have your tickets ready, everybody. yes, right this way, uncle. bless your dear little face--right ahead. h'y'ere, bub, this ticket's no good!--oh, so it is, i didn't see the right side--get on quick." as rose passed him he said, "you go in free, my dear," and resumed his bawling cry, "have your tickets ready." under the tent! rose looked up at the lifting, tremulous, translucent canvas with such awe as the traveler feels in st. peter's dome. her feet stumbled on, while she clung to carl's hand without knowing it. o, the enormous crowds of people, the glitter and change of it all! they followed in the stream which flowed around the circle of animal dens, and rose silently looked at all she saw. the others laughed and exclaimed, but she did not. everything seemed inexplicable and mysterious, and roused confusing trains of thought. she saw the great tigers, and caught the yellow-green sheen of their eyes. she saw the lions rise like clouds of dust in their corners, silent as mist and terrible as lightning. she looked at the elephant and wondered how he could live and be so like the toy elephants she had at home. on past shrieking tropical birds and grunting, wallowing beasts, and chattering crowds of people she moved, without a word, till they came around to the circus entrance, and then she lifted her eyes again around the great amphitheater. "_peanuts, peanuts here, five a bag!_" "here's your lemonade, cool and fresh." on all sides brazen-voiced young men were selling, at appalling prices, sticks of candy, glasses of lemonade, palm-leaf fans and popcorn balls. there was something about them that frightened her, and she walked a little closer to carl. they heard familiar voices call and saw some young people from their coulé, and so clambered up where they sat. the boards were narrow and the seats low, but nobody minded that, for that was part of the circus. they were settled at last and ready to enjoy all that came. two or three volunteered to say: "this is great! the best place to see 'em come in." then they passed the peanut bag in reckless liberality. rose sat in a dream of delight as the band began to play. it was an ambitious band and played operatic selections with modulations, and it seemed to rose to be the most splendid music in the world. all other bands she had heard played right along tum-tummy tum-tummy tummy, tummy-tum. this band sang and talked and whispered and dreamed. it shook her like a stallion's neigh, and soothed her like the coo of a dove on the barn roof. she heard nothing that was said about her, and she did not know she sat squeezing carl's arm. people streamed by in enormous crowds. ladies in elegant dresses, and hats such as she had never seen before. handsome young men went by, and yet she gave them no second look. they were like figures in a dream. at last the band blared an announcing note, and the uniformed attendants filed into the ring and took positions at set points like sentries. then the music struck into a splendid galop, and out from the curtained mysteries beyond, the knights and ladies darted, two and two, in glory of crimson and gold, and green and silver. at their head rode the man with the brown mustache. they came around into position, and then began a series of bewildering changes, directed by her knight, whose shout dominated the noise of the horses and the blare of the band, with hollow wild sound. they vanished as they came, and then came the clowns, and tricks and feats of strength. the iron-jawed woman lifted incredible weights; the japanese jugglers tossed cannon-balls, knives and feathers; the baby elephant stood on his head--and then suddenly six men dressed in tights of blue and white and orange ran into the ring, and her hero led them. he wore blue and silver, and on his breast was a rosette. he looked a god to her. his naked limbs, his proud neck, the lofty carriage of his head, made her shiver with emotion. they all came to her lit by the white radiance; they were not naked, they were beautiful, but _he_ was something more. she had seen naked boys, and her own companions occasionally showed themselves naked and cowering before her, but these men stood there proud and splendid. they invested their nakedness with something which exalted them. they became objects of luminous beauty to her, though she knew nothing of art. as she grew clearer-eyed, she saw that one was a little too short, another too lean, but he of the rosette was perfect. the others leaped, with him, doing the same feats, but as distances were increased, and the number of camels and horses grew, the others stood by to see him make his renowned double somersault over a herd of animals. when the applause broke out she joined it, while her temples throbbed with emotion. to see him bow and kiss his fingers to the audience was a revelation of manly grace and courtesy. he moved under the curtain, bowing still to the cheering crowd. once more he came back later on, leading a woman by the hand. she too was in tights throughout, and like him she walked with a calm and powerful movement, but she seemed petty beside him. something new seized upon rose's heart, a cold contraction that she had never felt, and her teeth pressed together. she wondered if the woman were his wife. the woman seized a rope with her right arm and was drawn to the tent roof. he took a strap in his mouth and was drawn to his trapeze also. there, in mid-air, they performed their dangerous evolutions. it was all marvelous and incredible to the country girl. she heard him clap his hands, then his glorious voice rang above the music, and the lithe figure of his companion launched itself through the air, was caught by the shoulders in his great hands, thence with a twist he tossed her, and hooked her by the hands. each time, the blood surged into rose's throat as if to suffocate her. a horrible fear that was a pleasure, some way, rose and fell in her. she could not turn away her head. she must look. she was a powerful girl, and the idea of fainting had never come to her, but when at the conclusion, he dropped in a revolving ball into the net far beneath, she turned sick and her eyes seemed to whirl in their sockets. then as he leaped to the ground, bowing and smiling, the blood rushed back to her face, and the perspiration stood like rain on her face. thereafter riders came, and the clowns capered, and the ring-master cracked his whip and she enjoyed it, but it was an after-climax. she saw it, but saw it dimly. nothing but the lions and their trainers aroused her to applause. her brain was full. it was a feast of glories and her very hunger made her lay hold upon the first that came, to the neglect of what came after. at last the brazen, resounding voice of the ring-master announced the last of the show, and the audience arose and moved out in a curious sort of a hush, as if in sorrow to think it was all over, and the humdrum world was rushing back upon them. rose moved along in perfect silence, clinging to carl's hand. around her was the buzz of low speech, the wailing of tired and hungry babies and the clamor of attendants selling tickets for the minstrel show to follow. suddenly she perceived that her dress was wet with perspiration and grimy with dust. she saw all about her women with flushed faces and grimy hands, their hats awry and their brows wrinkled with trouble over fretful children. the men walked along with their coats over their arms, and their hats pushed back. the dust arose under their feet with a strange smell. out in the animal tent the odor was stifling and rose hurried carl out into the open air. somehow it seemed strange to see the same blue sky arching the earth; things seemed exactly the same and yet rose had grown older. she had developed immeasurably in those few hours. it took her some time to fully recover the use of her feet, and it took longer to get back a full realization of where she was. the grass, crushed and trampled and littered with paper, and orange peel, gave out a fresh farm-like odor, that helped her to recover herself. she would not talk, she could not talk yet. she only urged them to go home. she wanted to get home to think. * * * * * as they climbed the slope on the other side of the river, they looked back at the tents with their wilted streamers, at the swarming bug-like teams and the ant-like human beings, and it seemed to rose as if she should weep, so poignant was her sense of personal loss. she knew something sweet and splendid and mystical was passing out of her life after a few hours' stay there. her feeling of loss was none the less real because it was indefinable to her. the others chattered about each part of the show, and shouted admiration about this and that feat, but rose was silent. when they stopped at sunset beside a spring to eat their lunch she merely said: "i don't feel hungry." the others fell silent after a time, and they rode dreamily forward, with the roll of wheels making them sleepy and the trample of the horses' feet telling them how rapidly they were leaving their great day's pleasure behind them. when rose huddled into her little attic bed, her eyes were wide open, and her brain active as at noonday. there was no sleep for her then. lying there in the darkness she lived it all over again; the flutter of flags, the wild voices, the blare of music, the chariots, the wild beasts, the knights and ladies, the surging crowds; but the crowning glory, the pictures which lingered longest in her mind were the splendid and beautiful men, whose naked majesty appealed to her pure wholesome awakening womanhood, with the power of beauty and strength combined, with sex and art both included. these glorious, glittering graceful beings with their marvelous strength and bravery filled her with a deep sad hunger, which she could not understand. they came out of the unknown, led by her chosen one, like knights in ivanhoe. she fell asleep thinking of the one in blue and silver, and in her sleep she grew braver and went closer to him, and he turned and spoke to her, and his voice was like waters running, and his eyes shone some way into her eyes like a light. * * * * * when she rose the next day she was changed. she moved about the house dull and languid. never before had she failed to sleep when her head touched the pillow. she managed to be alone most of the time, and at last her mind cleared. she began to live for him, her ideal. she set him on high as a being to be worshiped, as a man fit to be her judge. in the days and weeks which followed she asked herself, "would he like me to do this?" or she thought, "i must not do that. what would he think of me if he saw me now?" and every night when she went to sleep it was with the radiant figure in blue and silver before her eyes. when the sunset was very beautiful, she thought of him. when the stars seemed larger in the blue sky, she could see the star upon his grand breast. she knew his name; she had the bill in her little box of trinkets, and she could take it out and read, "william de lisle, the world-famous leader in ground and lofty tumbling, in his stupendous leap over two elephants, six camels and two horses." in all the talk of the circus which followed among her companions, she took no part because she feared she might be obliged to mention his name. when others spoke his name she could feel a hot flush surge up all over her body and she trembled for fear some one might discover her adoration of him. she went about with carl and rob as before, only she no longer longed for them; they seemed good, familiar comrades, but nothing more. to them she seemed stranger every day. her eyes had lost their clear, brave look; they were dreamy black, and her lids drooped. vast ambitions began in her. she determined to be a great scholar. she would be something great for his sake. she could not determine what, but she, too, would be great. at first she thought of being a circus woman, and then she determined that was impossible. she dreamed often of being his companion and coming on hand in hand with him, bowing to the multitude, but when she was drawn to the tent-roof, she awoke in a cold sweat of fear, and so she determined to be a writer. she would write books like ivanhoe. those were great days! her mind expanded like the wings of a young eagle. she read everything; the _ledger_, the _weekly_, and all the dog-eared novels of impassioned and unreal type in the neighborhood. in short, she consecrated herself to him as to a king, and seized upon every chance to educate herself to be worthy of him. every effort was deeply pathetic, no matter how absurd to others. she took no counsel, allowed no confidants. she lived alone among her playmates. this ideal came in her romantic and perfervid period, and it did her immeasurable good. it lifted her and developed her. it enabled her to escape the clutch of mere brute passion which seizes so many boys and girls at that age, and leads to destructive early marriages. it kept her out of reach of the young men of the neighborhood. she did not refuse the pleasures of the autumn and the winter, only she did not seem so hearty in her enjoyment of the rides and parties. she rode with the young fellows on moonlit nights, lying side by side with them on the straw-filled bottom of the sleigh, and her heart leaped with the songs they sang, but it all went out towards her ideal; he filled the circle of her mind. the thought of him made the night magical with meaning. as she danced with carl it was her hero's arm she felt. at night, when carl left her on the door-step, she looked up at the stars and the sinking moon, and lifted her face in a wild vow, inarticulate--"i will be worthy of him!" that was the passionate resolution, but it did not reach to the definiteness of words. as she worked about the house she took graceful attitudes, and wished he might see her; he would be pleased with her. the grace and power of her arm acquired new meaning to her. her body, she recognized, had something the same statuesque pose of his. in the secrecy of her room she walked up and down, feeling the splendid action of her nude limbs muscled almost like his. and all this was fine and pure physical joy. her idea remained indefinite, wordless. these were days of formless imaginings and ambitions. "i will do! i will do!" was her ceaseless cry to herself, but what could she do? what should she do? she could be wise; that she would be. so she read. she got little out of her reading that she could make a showing of, but still it developed her. it made her dream great things, impossible things, but she had moments when she tried to live these things. meanwhile her manners changed. she became absent-minded, and seemed sullen and haughty to her companions at times. she never giggled like the rest of the girls. she had fine teeth, and yet her smile was infrequent. she laughed when occasion demanded, and laughed heartily, but she was not easily stirred to laughter. just in proportion as she ignored the young beaux, so they thronged about her. one or two of them eyed her with a look which made her angry. she took refuge in carl's company, and so escaped much persecution, for carl was growing to be a powerful young man, with fists like mauls, and was respected among the athletes of the neighborhood. she did not realize that she would need at some time to settle with carl. she accepted his company as a matter of course. he filled social requirements for the time being. her teacher that winter was a plaintive sort of a little middle-aged man, a man of considerable refinement, but with little force. rose liked him, but did not respect him as she had two or three of the men who had filled the teacher's chair. she could not go to him for advice. as the winter wore on the figure of "william de lisle" grew dimmer, but not less beautiful. her love for him lost its under-current of inarticulate expectancy; it was raised into a sentiment so ethereal it would seem a breath of present passion would scatter it like vapor, and yet it was immovable as granite. time alone could change it. he still dominated her thought at quiet times, at dark when the stars began to shine, but in the daytime he was faint as a figure in a dream. chapter vii rose meets dr. thatcher the school-house in dutcher's coulé, like most country school-houses, was a squalid little den. it was as gray as a rock and as devoid of beauty as a dry goods box. it sat in the midst of the valley and had no trees, to speak of, about it, and in winter it was almost as snow-swept as the school-houses of the prairie. its gray clap-boarding was hacked and scarred with knife and stone, and covered with mud and foul marks. a visitor who had turned in from the sun-smit winter road paused before knocking and looked at the walls and the door with a feeling of mirth and sadness. was there no place to escape the obscene outcome of sexual passion? dr. thatcher had been a pupil here in this same school-house more than twenty years before, and the droning, shuffling sound within had a marvelous reawakening power. he was a physician in madison now, and was in the coulé on a visit. his knock on the door brought a timid-looking man to the door. "i'd like to come in awhile," said the doctor. "certainly, certainly," replied the teacher, much embarrassed by the honor. he brought him the chair he had been sitting on, and helped his visitor remove his coat and hat. "now don't mind me, i want to see everything go on just as if i were not here." "very well, that's the way we do," the teacher replied, and returned to his desk and attempted, at least, to carry out his visitor's request. a feeling of sadness, mingled with something wordlessly vast, came over the doctor as he sat looking about the familiar things of the room. he was in another world, an old, familiar world. his eyes wandered lovingly from point to point of the room, filled with whispering lips and shuffling feet and shock-heads of hair, under which shone bright eyes, animal-like in their shifty stare. the curtains, of a characterless shade, the battered maps, the scarred and scratched blackboards, the patched, precarious plastering, the worn floor on which the nails and knots stood like miniature mountains, the lop-sided seats, the master's hacked, unpainted pine desk, dark with dirt and polished with dirty hands, all seemed as familiar as his own face. he sat there listening to the recitations in a dreamy impassivity. he was deep in the past, thinking of the days when to pass from his seat to the other side of the room was an event; when a visitor was a calamity--for the teacher; when the master was a tyrant and his school-room a ceaselessly rebellious kingdom. as his eyes fell at last more closely upon the scholars; he caught the eyes of a young girl looking curiously at him, and so deep was he in the past, his heart gave a sudden movement, just as it used to leap when in those far-off days stella baird looked at him. he smiled at himself for it. it was really ludicrous; he thought, "i'll tell my wife of it." the girl looked away slowly and without embarrassment. she was thinking deeply, looking out of the window. his first thought was, "she has beautiful eyes." then he noticed that she wore her hair neatly arranged, and that her dress, though plain, looked tasteful and womanly about the neck. the line of her head was magnificent. her color was rich and dark; her mouth looked sad for one so young. her face had the effect of being veiled by some warm, dusky color. was she young? sometimes as he studied her she seemed a woman, especially as she looked away out of the window, and the profile line of her face could be seen. but she looked younger when she bent her head upon her books, and her long eye-lashes fell upon her cheek. his persistent study brought a vivid flush into her face, but she did not nudge her companion and whisper as another would have done. "that is no common girl," the doctor concluded. he sat there while the classes were called up one after the other. he heard again these inflections, tones, perpetuated for centuries in the school-room, "the-cat-saw-a-rat." again the curfew failed to ring, in the same hard, monotonous, rapid, breathless sing-song, every other line with a falling inflection. the same failure to make the proper pause caused it to appear that "bessie saw him on her brow." again the heavy boy read the story of the ants, and the teacher asked insinuatingly sweet questions. "what did they do?" "made a tunnel." "yes! now what _is_ a tunnel?" "a hole that runs under-ground." "very good! it says that the ant is a voracious creature. what does that mean?" "dunno." "you don't know what a voracious creature is?" "no, sir." and then came the writing exercise, when each grimy fist gripped a pen, and each red tongue rolled around a mouth in the vain effort to guide the pen. _cramp, cramp; scratch, scratch; sputter!_ what a task it was! the december afternoon sun struck in at the windows, and fell across the heads of the busy scholars, and as he looked, dr. thatcher was a boy again, and rose and her companions were the "big girls" of the school. he was looking at stella, the prettiest girl in the district, the sunlight on her hair, a dream of nameless passion in her eyes. the little room grew wide as romance, and across the aisle seemed over vast spaces. girlish eyes met his like torches in the night. the dusty air, the shuffle of feet, the murmuring of lips only added to the mysterious power of the scene. there they sat, these girls, just as in the far-off days, trying to study, and succeeding in dreaming of love songs, and vague, sweet embraces on moonlight nights, beneath limitless star-shot skies, with sound of bells in their ears, and the unspeakable glory of youth and pure passion in their souls. the doctor sighed. he was hardly forty yet, but he was old in the history of disillusion and in contempt of human nature. his deep-set eyes glowed with an inward fire of remembrance. "o pathetic little band of men and women," thought he, "my heart thrills and aches for you." he was brought back to the present with a start by the voice of the teacher. "rose, you may recite now." the girl he had been admiring came forward. as she did so he perceived her to be not more than sixteen, but she still had in her eyes the look of a dreaming woman. "rose dutcher is our best scholar," smiled the teacher proudly as rose took her seat. she looked away out of the window abstractedly as the teacher opened the huge geography and passed it to the doctor. "ask her anything you like from the first fifty-six pages." the doctor smiled and shook his head. "bound the sea of okhotsk," commanded the teacher. thatcher leaned forward eagerly--her voice would tell the story! without looking around, with her hands in her lap, an absent look in her eyes, the girl began in a husky contralto voice: "bounded on the north--" and went through the whole rigmarole in the same way, careless, but certain. "what rivers would you cross in going from moscow to paris?" again the voice began and flowed on in the same measured indifferent way till the end was reached. "good heavens!" thought the doctor, "they still teach that useless stuff. but how well she does it!" after some words of praise, which the girl hardly seemed to listen to, she took her seat again. rose, on her part, saw another man of grace and power. she saw every detail of his dress. his dark, sensitive face, and splendid slope of his shoulders, the exquisite neatness and grace of his collar and tie and coat. but in his eyes was something that moved her, drew her. she felt something subtile there, refinement and sorrow, and emotions she could only dimly feel. she could not keep her eyes from studying his face. she compared him with "william de lisle," not deliberately, always unconsciously. he had nothing of the bold beauty of her ideal. this man was a scholar, and he was come out of the world beyond the big ridge, and besides, there was mystery and allurement in his face. the teacher called as if commanding a regiment of cavalry. "books. _ready!_" there was a riotous clatter, which ended as quickly as it begun. _kling!_ they all rose. _kling!_ and the boys moved out with clumping of heavy boots and burst into the open air with wild whoopings. the girls gathered into little knots and talked, glancing furtively at the stranger. some of them wondered if he were the county superintendent of schools. rose sat in her seat, with her chin on her clasped hands. it was a sign of her complex organization, that the effect of a new experience was rooted deep, and changes took place noiselessly, far below the surface. "rose, come here a moment," called the teacher, "bring your history." "don't keep her from her playmates," thatcher remonstrated. "o she'd rather recite any time than play with the others." rose stood near, a lovely figure of wistful hesitation. she had been curiously unembarrassed before, now she feared to do that which was so easy and so proper. at last she saw her opportunity as the teacher turned away to ring the bell. she touched thatcher on the arm. "do you live in madison, sir?" "yes. i am a doctor there." she looked embarrassed now and twisted her fingers. "is it so very hard to get into the university?" "no. it is very easy--it would be for you," he said with a touch of unconscious gallantry of which he was ashamed the next moment, for the girl was looking away again. "do you want to go to the university?" "yes, sir, i do." "why?" "o, because--i want to know all i can." "why? what do you want to do?" "you won't tell on me, will you?" she blushed red as a carnation now. strange mixture of child and woman, thought thatcher. "why, certainly not." they stood over by the blackboard; the other girls were pointing and snickering, but she did not mind them. "i guess i won't tell," she stammered; "you'd laugh at me like everybody else--i know you would." he caught her arm and turned her face toward his; her eyes were full of tears. "tell me. i'll help you." his eyes glowed with a kindly smile, and she warmed under it. "i want to write--stories--and books," she half whispered guiltily. the secret was out and she wanted to run away. the doctor's crucial time had come. if he laughed!--but he did not laugh. he looked thoughtful, almost sad. "you are starting on a long, long road, rose," he said at last. "where it will lead to i cannot tell--nobody can. what put that into your head?" rose handed him a newspaper clipping containing a brief account of "how a wisconsin poetess achieved fame and fortune." "why, my dear girl," he began, "don't you know that out of ten thousand--" he stopped. she was looking up at him in expectation, her great luminous grey-brown eyes burning with an inward hungry fire which thrilled him. "she may be the one in ten thousand, and i'll help her," he said to himself. the bell ringing brought the boys clattering back into their seats, puffing, gasping, as if at last extremity. for a couple of minutes nothing could be done, so great was the noise. while they were getting settled he said to her: "if you want to go to the university you will have to go to a preparatory school. here is my card--write to me when you get done here, and i'll see what can be done." rose went back to her seat, her eyes filled with a burning light, her hands strained together. this great man from madison had believed in her. o, if he would only come home and see her father! she painfully penciled a note and handed it to him as she came past to the blackboard. he was putting on his coat to go, but he looked down at the crumpled note, with its spencerian handwriting. "please, sir, won't you come down and see pappa and ask him if i can't go to madison?" he looked at the girl, whose eyes, big and sombre and full of wistful timidity, were fixed upon him. obeying a sudden impulse, he stepped to her side and said: "yes, i'll help you; don't be troubled." he stayed until school was out and the winter sun was setting behind the hills. rose sat and looked at him with more than admiration. she trusted him. he had said he would help her, and his position was one of power in her fancy, and something in his face and dress impressed her more deeply than any man she had ever seen save "william de lisle," her dim and shadowy yet kingly figure. on his part he was surprised at himself. he was waiting a final hour in this school-room out of interest and curiosity in a country school girl. his was a childless marriage, and this girl stirred the parental in him. he wished he had such a child to educate, to develop. the school was out at last, and, as she put on her things and came timidly towards him, he turned from the teacher. "so you are john dutcher's daughter? i knew your father when i was a lad here. i am stopping at the wallace farm, but i'll come over a little later and see your father." rose rushed away homeward, full of deep excitement. she burst into the barn where john was rubbing the wet fetlocks of the horses he had been driving. her eyes were shining and her cheeks were a beautiful pink. "o, pappa, he said i ought to go to madison to school. he said he'd help me go." john looked up in astonishment at her excitement. "who said so?" "dr. thatcher, the man who visited our school today. he said i'd ought to go, and he said he'd help me." her exultation passed suddenly. somehow there was not so much to tell as she had fancied, and she suddenly found herself unable to explain the basis of her enthusiasm. the perceived, but untranslatable expression of the doctor's eyes and voice was the real foundation of her hope, and that she had not definitely and consciously noted--to explain it was impossible. if her father could only have seen him! "i guess you'd better wait awhile," her father said, with a smile, which rose resented. "he's coming tonight." "who's he?" "dr. thatcher. he used to live here. he knows you." john grew a little more intent on her news. "does! i wonder if he is old stuart thatcher's son? he had a boy who went east to school somewheres." rose went into the house and set to work with the graceful celerity which mrs. diehl called "knack." "rose, you can turn off work when you really want to, to beat anything i ever see." rose smiled and hummed a tune. mrs. diehl was made curious. "you're wonderful good-natured, it seems to me. what's the reason, already?" "we're going to have company." "who, for peter's sake?" "dr. thatcher." "what's he come here for?" "to see pappa," said rose, as she rushed upstairs into her attic-room. it was cold up there, warmed only by the stove-pipe from the sitting-room, but she sat down and fell into a dream in which she recalled every look and word he had given her. she came suddenly to herself, and began putting on her red dress, which was her company dress. when she came downstairs in her creaking new shoes mrs. diehl was properly indignant. "well! i declare. couldn't you get along in your calico?" "no, i couldn't!" rose replied, with easy sharpness, which showed the frequent passages at arms between them. when thatcher came in with the teacher he was quite startled by the change in her. she looked taller and older and more intricate some way. she took his hat and coat and made him at home in much better form than he had reason to think she knew. she on her part watched him closely. his manner at the table was a source of enlightenment to her. she felt him to be a strong man, therefore his delicacy and consideration meant much to her. it suggested related things dimly. it made her appreciate vaguely the charm of the world from whence he came. dr. thatcher was not young, and his experience as a physician had added to his natural insight. he studied rose keenly while he talked with john concerning the changes in the neighborhood. he saw in the girl great energy and resolution, and a mental organization not simple. she had reason and reserve force not apprehended by her father. the problem was, should he continue to encourage her. education of a girl like that might be glorious--or tragic! after supper john dutcher took him into the corner, and, while rose helped clear away the dishes, the two men talked. "you see," john explained, "she's been talkin' about going on studyin' for the last six months. i don't know what's got into the girl, but she wants to go to madison. i suppose her learnin' of that bluff-sidin' girl goin' has kind o' spurred her on. i want her to go to the high school at the sidin', but she wants to go away"--he choked a little on that phrase--"but if you an' teacher here think the girl'd' ought to go, why, i'll send her." the younger man looked grave--very grave. he foresaw lonely hours for john dutcher. "well--the girl interests me very much, mr. dutcher. it's a strong point in her favor that she wants to go. most girls of her age have little ambition beyond candy and new dresses. i guess it's your duty to send her. what she wants is the larger life that will come to her in madison. the preparatory work can be done here at the siding. i believe it is one of the accredited schools. of course she will come home often, and when she comes to madison, i will see that she has a home until she gets 'wunted,' as you farmers say." the teacher came in at this point full of wild praise of rose's ability. "she's great on history and geography. she knows about every city and river and mountain on the maps." "she's always been great for geography," confirmed john. "used to sit and follow out lines on the maps when she wasn't knee-high to a 'tater." a tender tone came into his voice, almost as if he were speaking of a dead child. he too had a quick imagination, and he felt already the loss of his girl, his daily companion. the matter was decided there. "you send her to me, when she gets ready, and i'll have mrs. thatcher look after her for a week or so, till we find her a place to stay." rose was in a fever of excitement. she saw the men talking there, and caught disconnected words as she came and went about the table. at last she saw dr. thatcher rise to go. she approached him timorously. "well, rose, when you come to madison you must come to our house. mrs. thatcher will be glad to see you." she could not utter a word in thanks. after he had gone rose turned to her father with a swift appeal. "oh, pappa, am i going?" he smiled a little. "we'll see when the time comes, rosie." she knew what that meant and she leaped with a joy swift as flame. john sat silently looking at the wall, his arm flung over the back of his chair. he wondered why she should feel so happy at the thought of leaving home, when to him it was as bitter as death to think of losing her for a single day out of his life. thenceforward the world began to open to rose. every sign of spring was doubly significant; the warm sun, the passing of wild-fowl, the first robin, the green grass, the fall of the frost, all appealed to her with a power which transcended words. all she did was only preparation for her great career beyond the ridge. she pictured the world outside in colors of such splendor that the romance of her story-papers seemed weak and pale. out there in the world was william de lisle. out there were ladies with white faces and heavy-lidded, haughty eyes, in carriages and in ball-rooms. out there was battle for her, and from her quiet coulé battle seemed somehow alluring. chapter viii leaving home as the time for leaving came on rose had hours of depression, wherein she wondered if it were worth while. sometimes it began when she noticed a fugitive look of sorrow on her father's face, and sometimes it was at parting with some of her girl friends, and sometimes it was at thought of carl. she had spent a year in the siding in preparation for the work in madison, and the time of her adventure with the world was near. carl came to be a disturbing force during those last few weeks. he had been a factor in all of the days of her life. almost without thought on her part she had relied upon him. she had run to him for any sort of material help, precisely as to a brother, and now he was a man and would not be easily set aside. he generally drove her to meeting on sunday, and they loitered on the shady stretches of the coulé roads. he generally put his arm around her, and she permitted it because it was the way all the young fellows did but she really never considered him in the light of a possible husband. most of the girls were precocious in the direction of marriage, and brought all their little allurements to bear with the same object in view which directs the coquetry of a city belle. at sixteen they had beaux, at seventeen many of them actually married and at eighteen they might often be seen riding to town with their husbands, covered with dust, clasping wailing babes in their arms; at twenty they were often thin and bent in the shoulders, and flat and stiff in the hips, sallow and querulous wives of slovenly, careless husbands. rose did not hold that carl had any claim upon her. the incidents of two years before were lived down, both by herself and carl, for as manhood and womanhood came to them they put away all that which they had done in the thoughtlessness of childhood. to rose it was an unpleasant memory, because associated with her father's grief. she supposed carl to feel in the same way about it, and so no allusion to it was ever made by any one. but carl was grown to be a great stalwart young fellow, with the blood and sinew of a man, and the passions of a man were developing in his rather thick head. the arm which he laid along the buggy seat was less passive and respectful of late. it clutched in upon her at times; though she shook herself angrily each time, he merely laughed. so matters stood when she told him she was going away to school in madison. "that so?" he said, and not much else till the next sunday. with all the week to think about it in, he began to ask himself in current slang, "where do i come in?" so the next time they drove together he tried again to tighten his arm about her while he said: "i'll miss you, rosie." "so'll pap," she said. there was a long pause, then he said: "what's the use o' going away anyhow? i thought you an' me was goin' to be married when we grew up." she shook herself free. "we ain't grown up yet." "i guess we won't never get our growth, then," he said with a chuckle; "you don't need that extra schoolin' any more'n i do." they rode in silence down the beautiful valley, with the charm of early autumn lying over it. "you mustn't go and forget me off there in madison," he said, giving her a squeeze. "carl, you stop that! you mustn't do that! i'll jump out o' the buggy if you do that again!" there was genuine anger in her voice. "why, it's all right, rosie; ain't we engaged?" "no, we're not, and we never will be, either." there was a note in her voice that struck through even carl's thick thought. he did not reply, but continued to dwell upon that reply until its entire meaning came to him. then his face became pitiful to see. it was usually round and red, but now it looked long and heavy and bitter. he was so infertile of phrases he could only say: "then we might as well drive right back home." "well, you made me say it," she went on in a softer tone, being much moved by the change in his face. "i like you, carl, but i'm not a-goin' to promise anything. i'll see when i come back, after i graduate." they drove on. she was not much more of a talker than he, and so they rode in silence that was sullen on carl's part. at the gate she relented a little. "won't you come in, carl?" "no, i guess not," he said shortly, and drove off. after she went in the house she felt more and more the injustice of her anger. "if he hadn't pinched me like that," she said to herself. she went to work at her packing again, putting in things she would not possibly have any use for. as she worked the ache and weariness at her heart increased, and when they called her to supper the tears were falling again like a shower. it was a silent and miserable meal, though the doors and windows were open and the pleasant sounds of the farm-yard came in, and the red light of the setting sun shone in magically warm and mellow. john ate slowly, his eyes fixed on his plate. rose ate not at all and looked out of the window, with big tears rolling childishly down her cheeks. she didn't want to go at all now. her home seemed all at once so comfortable and happy and safe! john looked up and saw her tears, and immediately he was choked and could not eat. "there, there! rosie, don't cry. we'll be all right, and you'll be back almost 'fore you know it. june comes early in the summer, you know." they were both so childlike they did not consider it possible to come home before the year was up. she came around and knelt down by his side and buried her face on his knees. "i wish i hadn't promised to go," she wailed; "i don't want to go one bit. i want to stay with you." he understood her feeling and soothed her and diverted her, though tears would have been a relief to him. she went with him out to the barn, and she cried over the bossies and the horses, and said good-by to them under her breath, so that her father might not hear. when she went to bed she lay down disconsolate and miserable. o it was so hard to go, and it was hard not to go. life was not so simple as it had seemed before. why did this great fear rise up in her heart? why should she have this terrible revulsion at the last moment? so she thought and thought. her only stay in the midst of chaos was dr. thatcher. william de lisle was very far away, like a cold white star. just as she made up her mind that she could not sleep, she heard her father call her. "rose, time to get up!" her heart contracted with a sharp spasm that almost made her scream. the time had come for action--momentous, irrevocable action, like napoleon's embarking from elba for france. it was very chill and dark. she rose and groped about for a light. her teeth chattered with cold and it seemed to her she was going to be sick. she dressed hurriedly and went down. john and her aunt were seated at breakfast. she slipped into her seat, white and silent. it was still dark and the lighted lamps made it seem like a midnight meal. john was strenuously cheerful. "we have to get up early if we get that seven o'clock train," he said. "better take some coffee anyhow," urged mrs. diehl. "o, i can't eat a thing," rose insisted. "don't worry her, sis," interposed john. "she'll feel like it later." while john went to get the team rose got on her things and walked about, uttering a little moaning sound, like a babe in delirium. it was terrible to hear her and mrs. diehl lost patience at last. "stop that fuss! good land! anybody'd think you was goin' to die dead as a hammer, the way you take on, and after all the time we've had gettin' you ready. i declare to goodness i never see such a young'un in all my born days. i will be glad to get rid of you!" this was good strong medicine to rose, and she uttered no more of her grief. she punished her aunt by refusing to say good-bye at the door, which grieved john very much. "you folks had a tiff this morning a'ready?" it was cold and damp. the wind pushed against their faces like the touch of wet palms. the horses splashed along in pools of water, and out of the dim light the hills rose against the sky full of soft sprawling rain-clouds. they rode in silence. rose saw no more of the splendid visions of the world. it was all dark and rainy ahead. home, and peace, and comfort were all behind her. she was so miserable it seemed as if she must cry out, but her aunt's contemptuous words helped her to silence. john talked a little about the trains on the road, and the weather, but talk was an effort to him also. as he rode he thought of it all again. he felt as if he were losing his heart, but he did not waver. he helped her on the cars and then stooped and hugged her hard without kissing her, and so stumbled out again, while she sat white and rigid, breathing hard. the sun came out after a little, and covered the earth with a glory that found its way into the girl's heart. she ceased to sob, and the ache passed out of her throat, although the shadow still hung in her eyes. the car interested her. it seemed a palace and of enormous size. she figured out the number of people it would hold, and wondered how the seats which were turned the other way came to be so. the car was mainly occupied by men in careless clothing. everybody seemed sleepy and unkempt. she wondered where they all came from, and so speculating, she lost something of her poignant sorrow. then came one moment of quiet elation. she was going out into the world! the enormous, the incredible had happened! she was going to madison, the state capital. the speed of the train, which seemed to her very great, aided her to realize how swiftly she was getting into the world. the fields and farms whirled by in dizzying fashion, and the whistle of the engine was like the furious, defiant neigh of a rushing horse. it was all on a scale more splendid than her dreams. in the midst of her exultant moment the brakeman came through and eyed her with the glare of a sex-maniac. she felt as if a hot iron had touched her flesh, and she shrank back into herself, like a scared mollusk. the man passed on, but her exultation was gone. she noticed that the hills grew lower as they sped southward, and queer rocks rose squarely out of the flat lands, which were covered with wild swamps of small trees, out of which long skeletons of dead pines lifted with a desolate effect. there were several tunnels, and every time they went through one rose clung to the seat in terror. some young men in the rear of the car smacked their lips to represent kisses, and laughed boisterously afterward, as if that were a very good joke indeed. the conductor, when he came through the next time, eyed her closely and smiled broadly. she did not understand why he should smile at her. after he had been through the car several times he came and sat down by her. "nice day, ain't it? live in madison?" "no, sir," she replied, looking away. she did not want to say more, but some power made her add, "i am going to school there." he seemed pleased. "ah, hah! going to the university?" "yes, sir." "o, i see." he put his knee against the back of the seat in front of her and took an easy position. "it's a nice town. wish i could stop off and help you find a boarding-place." the brakeman, coming through, winked at the conductor as if to say: "i like your 'mash,'" and the terror and shame of her position flashed over rose, flushing her from head to foot. her eyes filled with angry tears, and she looked out of the window, not knowing what to do. she was so helpless here, for she was out in the world alone. the conductor went on serenely, knowing well how scared and angry she was. "yes, sir; it's a fine little town. great place for boating, summer or winter. you'll see a hundred ice-boats out on monona there all at once. i've got a cousin there who has a boat. he'd be glad to take you out if i'd tell him about you." "i don't want to know him," she said, in what she intended to be a fierce tone, but which was a pitifully scared tone. the conductor saw the brakeman looking at him and in order to convey the impression that he was getting on nicely he bent forward and looked around into her face. "o, you'd like him first rate." rose would have screamed, or burst out into some wild action had not the engine whistled. this gave the conductor an excuse to give the talk up for the moment. "she's a daisy and as green as grass," he said to the brakeman. her innocence seemed to place her in his hand. for the next hour they persecuted the girl with their low presences. first one and then the other came along the aisle and sat down beside her. and when she put her valise there, blocking the seat, the brakeman sat on the armrest and tormented her with questions to which she gave no answer. just after pine city she heard a cool, firm woman's voice ask: "may i sit with you?" she looked up and made room for a handsome, middle-aged woman, in a neat traveling dress. "it's a shame!" she said. "i've just got in, but i saw at once how those men were torturing you. strange no one in the car could see it and take your part." rose turned to her gratefully, and laid her head on the lady's stalwart shoulder. "there, there, no harm done! you must learn to expect such things from some men. it would be libelous on the brutes to call them beasts." she said a great many things which rose hardly understood, but her presence was strong and helpful. rose liked her very much. "how far are you going?" rose told her in a few words. "ah, are you? you could not have made a better choice. who sends you there--pardon me?" "dr. thatcher." "dr. thatcher! well, well, how things come about. i know the doctor very well." "do you? i'm going to live there for a while." rose was smiling now. "well, you couldn't be more fortunate. you'll get into the most progressive home in the city." from this on they had a royal good time. rose grew happier than she had been for weeks. there was something strangely masterful about this woman in spite of her sweet smile and soft gray eyes. when the conductor came down the aisle again she met his eye with a keen, stern glance. "young man, i shall have you discharged from this road." the astonished cur took her card, and when he read the name of a famous woman lawyer of milwaukee his face fell. "i didn't mean any harm." "i know better. i shall see mr. millet, and see that he makes an example of you." rose was awed by her calm and commanding voice. "it has been our boast that our girls could travel from east to west in our broad land, and be safe from insult, and i'm not going to let such a thing pass." she returned to her grave sweet mood presently, and began to talk of other things. as they neared the town where they were to part company, the elder woman said: "now, my dear, i am to get off here. i may never see you again, but i think i shall. you interest me very much. i am likely to be in madison during the year, and if i do i will see you. i am getting old though, and things of this life are uncertain to us with gray hair. i like that forehead on you, it tells me you are not to be a victim to the first man who lays his hand on you. let me give one last word of advice. don't marry till you are thirty. choose a profession and work for it. marry only when you want to be a mother." she rose. "you don't understand what i mean now, but keep my words in your mind. some day you will comprehend all i mean--good-bye." rose was tearful as mrs. spencer kissed her and moved away. rose saw her on the steps and waved her hand back at her as the train drew away. her presence had been oppressive in spite of her kindness, and her last words filled the girl's mind with vague doubts of life and of men. everything seemed forcing her thoughts of marriage to definiteness. her sex was so emphasized, so insisted upon by this first day's experience in the world, that she leaned her head against the window and cried out: "o, i wish i was dead." but the train shot round the low green hills fringed with the glorious foliage of the maples, the lake sparkled in the afternoon's sun, the dome of the capitol building loomed against the sky, and the romance and terror of her entry into the world came back to her, driving out her more morbid emotions. she became again the healthy country girl to whom madison was a center of art and society and literature. chapter ix rose enters madison the train drew up to a long platform swarming with people, moving anxiously about with valises in hand, broad-hatted and kindly; many of them were like the people of the coulé. but the young hackmen terrified her with their hard, bold eyes and cruel, tobacco-stained mouths. she alighted from the car, white and tremulous with fear, and her eyes moved about anxiously. when they fell upon thatcher the blood gushed up over her face, and her eyes filled with tears of relief. "ah, here you are!" he said with a smile, as he shook her hand and took her valise. "i began to fear you'd been delayed." she followed him to the carriage with down-cast eyes. her regard for him would not permit her to say a word, even when they were seated together in the carriage and driving up the street. her breath came so quick and strange the doctor noticed it. "a little bit excited about it, aren't you?" he smilingly said. "i remember how i felt when i went to chicago the first time. i suppose this seems like chicago to you. how did you leave the people in the coulé, all well?" "yes, sir," she replied without looking up. "well, now you are about to begin work. i've got everything all arranged. you are to stay with us for the present at least. my niece is with us and you will get along famously i know. how do you like my horse?" he asked, in his effort to get her to speak. she studied the horse critically. "first rate!" she said at last. he laughed. "well, i am glad you like him, for i know you are a judge. he is a pretty good stepper, too, though he hasn't quite enough fling in his knees, you notice. i'll let you drive him some time." he drew up before a pretty cottage, set in the midst of a neat lawn. it was discouragingly fine and handsome to the girl. she was afraid it was too good for her to enter. a very blonde young girl came dancing out to the block. "o uncle joe, did rose--" rose suddenly appeared. "this is rose. rose, this is our little chatter-box." "now, uncle joe! come right in, rose. i'm going to call you rose, mayn't i?" mrs. thatcher, a tall thin woman, welcomed rose in sober fashion, and led the way into the little parlor, which seemed incredibly elegant to the shy girl. she sat silently while the rest moved about her. there was a certain dignity in this reserve, and both mrs. thatcher and josie were impressed by it. she was larger and handsomer than either of them and that gave her an advantage, though she did not realize that. she was comparing in swift, disparaging fashion her heavy boots with their dainty soft shoes, and wondering what she could do to escape from them. "josie, take her right up to her room," said mrs. thatcher, "and let her get ready for dinner." "yes, come up, you must feel like a good scrub." rose flushed again, wondering if her face had grown grimy enough to be noticeable. the young girl led rose into a pretty room with light green walls, and lovely curtains at the windows. there were two dainty little beds occupying opposite corners. "we're to occupy this room together," said josie. "this is my dressing case and that's yours." rose saw at once josie had given her the best one. josie bustled about helping her lay off her things, pouring water for her and talking on with gleeful flow. "i'm awful glad you've come. i know we'll be just as thick! i wish you were in my classes though, but you won't be, so doctor says. don't you think this is a nice room?" rose washed her hands as quickly as possible because they looked so big and dingy beside the supple whiteness of josephine's. she felt dusty and coarse and hopeless in the midst of this exquisite room, the most beautiful room she had ever seen. her eyes moving about fell upon a picture which had the gleam of white limbs in it. josephine followed her look: "o, that's young samson choking the lion. i just love that; isn't he lovely?" rose blushed and tried to answer but could not. the beautiful splendid limbs of the young man flamed upon her with marvelous appeal. it was beautiful, and yet her training made her think it somehow not to be talked about. josephine led the way downstairs into the little parlor, which was quite as uncomfortably beautiful as the bedroom. the vases and flowers, and simple pictures, and the piano, all seemed like the furnishings of the homes she had read about in stories. but dazed as she was she kept her self-command, at least she kept silence and sat in sombre, almost sullen dejection amid it all. mrs. thatcher hardly knew what to think of her, but the doctor comprehended her mood better for he had passed through such experiences himself. he talked to her for a few minutes about her plans, and then they went out to dinner. rose entered the dining-room with a great fear in her heart. she longed to run away and hide. "o i don't know anything!" was the bitter cry welling up in her throat again and again, and she nearly cried out upon the impulse. the doctor liked to have his dinner at one, and so rose found two knives, and two forks at her plate, and two spoons also. she had read in stories of banquets, and she saw that this was to be her greatest trial. she sat very stiff and silent as the soup was brought on by the norwegian girl. she took the plate as it was handed her, and handed back the one which was turned down with the napkin on top of it. the norwegian girl smiled broadly and handed them both back. then rose saw her mistake and the hot blood swept over her brown face in a purple wave. the doctor and his wife passed it in silence. josie fortunately was talking to the cat and did not see it. rose could hardly touch her soup, which was delicious; her whole mind was filled with a desire to escape as soon as possible. which of the knives should she use first, and what was the extra little plate for, were the disturbing questions. she could use a fork, but she was afraid of betraying herself in the minutiæ of the service. as a matter of fact she got along very well, but of that she had no knowledge. some way she lived through the dainty dinner, scarcely tasting anything of it. at the close of it mrs. thatcher said: "wouldn't you like to lie down for a little while? aren't you tired?" rose hardly knew what weariness was, but she assented because she wished to be alone. "i'll call you at three, may i?" asked josie, who was wildly in love with rose already. "o, isn't she big and splendid, but she's queer," she said when she came down. "that'll wear off," said the doctor. "she feels a little strange now. i know all about it. i went from a farm to the city." rose hardly dared lie down on the spotless bed. a latent good taste in her enabled her to see in every detail harmony of effect, and herself as the one discordant note in the house. o, how dirty and rough and awkward she was! looking out of the window she saw a couple of ladies come out of a large house opposite and walk down toward a carriage which waited at the gate. the ladies held their dresses with a dainty action of their gloved hands as they stood for a moment in consultation. (how graceful their hats were!) then they entered the carriage. as they gathered their soft dresses about their limbs and stooped to enter the door, the flexile line of waist and hip and thigh came out beautifully, modestly. they were a revelation of elegance and grace to the farmer's daughter. their gaiters were of the same color as their dresses. this was most wonderful of all. such unity and completeness of attire was unknown to her before. she looked down at her red dress, which mattie teel had cut out for her, and she saw it in all its deformity. the sleeves didn't fit like josie's did. it didn't hang right; it just wrinkled all around her waist, and hung in bunches, and she knew it. and her hat, made over from her last winter's hat, was awful. she might just as well die or go back home, and never go out of the coulé again. she was nothing but a great country gawk, anyway. in this bitter fashion she raged on, lying face downward on the sofa. she lay there until she heard dancing steps, and josie called out: "may i come in?" "yes," said rose coldly. "o, you've been having a good cry, i know! i just like to go off and have a good cry that way. it makes your eyes red, but you can fix that. just sit still now and let me see what i can do." she bustled about and rose let her bathe her face with cool water and cologne, and fuss about. her little fingers were like a baby's and she murmured and gurgled in the goodness of her heart like a kitten. rose actually fell asleep under her touch. josie stopped astonished and startled for a moment, and then tip-toed out of the room like a burglar, and told mrs. thatcher all about it. "and o, auntie, she's very poor, isn't she? her clothes----" "tut," warned mrs. thatcher, "you must be careful not to notice that. edward, is she so very poor?" the doctor, seated at his desk in the little office, looked up a moment. "no, i don't think so. it is lack of judgment partially. a little tact and taste will fix her all right. dutcher is fairly well-to-do, and she is all he has. he wrote me to get her what she needed, but i'll leave that to you girls." josie danced with delight. buying things for yourself was fun, but buying for another was ecstasy! "the poor child hasn't a dress that she can wear without alteration, and she is such a splendid creature, too. i can't conceive how they failed to fit her." "it seems to me that putting her beside josie is pretty hard on her. i am afraid you are not conversant with the wardrobe of farmer's girls." "well, i didn't suppose--and the other room is so small." "o, well, it all depends upon josie. josie, come here." the girl rose up, and he put his arm around her. "now, my kitten, you must be very careful not to allude to any little mistakes rose makes." "o, uncle ed--you know--" "yes, i know chatterboxes mean all right, but they forget. now, rose is going to be a great scholar and she is going to be a lady, very quick, too; but she is awkward, now, and my little girl mustn't make it hard for her." after josie went out, thatcher said: "i know just how the girl feels. i went through it myself. it's hard, but it won't hurt her, only don't try to talk it over with her. if she's the girl i think she is, she'll work the whole matter out in a week herself. more than that, let me talk to her myself. if she's rested, ask her to come down." rose came into the doctor's office in a numb sort of timidity, for there was a great change in the doctor. he was hardly the same man who had eaten at their table. she couldn't describe it, but there was something in his voice which awed her. he sat now surrounded by his professional books and tools, which gave him dignity in her eyes. "sit down, rose," he said, "i want to talk with you. i've had a letter from your father about you and your expenses." and then, in some way, she never knew exactly how, he talked away her bitterness and gave her hope and comfort. he advised about books, and said: "and you'll need some little things which bluff siding doesn't keep. mrs. thatcher will drive you up town tomorrow and you can get what you need. your father has deposited some money here to pay your expenses. i am going over to university hill to make a call; perhaps you'd like to go." she assented, and went to get her hat. it was the largest town she had ever seen, and the capitol was wonderful to her, set in its park, where squirrels ran about on the velvet green of the grass. the building towered up in the sky, just as she had seen it in pictures. swarms of people came and went along the hard, blue-black paths, and round it the teams moved before the stores of the square. it was all mightily impressive to her. they passed the public library, and the doctor said: "you'll make great use of that, i imagine." she could not make herself believe that. she saw students coming and going on the street, and they all seemed so gay and well dressed. "all this will trouble you for a little while," the doctor said. "when i came to the university the first time i seemed like a cat in a bath tub. i thought everybody was laughing at me, but, as a matter of fact, nobody paid any attention to me at all. then i got mad, and i said, 'well, i'll _make_ you pay attention to me before i'm done.'" the doctor smiled at her and she had the courage to smile back. it was wonderful how well he understood her. he drove her around the lake drive. it was beautiful, but in her depression the more beautiful anything was the more it depressed her. the doctor did not demand speech of her, well knowing she did not care to talk. "i'm not mistaken in the girl," he said to his wife when they were alone. "she has immense reserve force--i feel it. wait until she straightens up and broadens out a little, you'll see! there's some half-savage power in her, magnetism, impelling quality. i predict a great future for her if--" "if what?" "if she don't marry. she is passionate, willful as a colt. it seems impossible she has come thus far without entanglement. she's going to be very handsome when she gets a little more at ease. i thought her a wonderful creature as she sat in that school-room, with the yellow sun striking across her head. she appeared to me to have destiny in her favor." "she's fine, but i think you're over-enthusiastic, edward." "wait and see. she isn't a chatter-box like josie, that is evident." "in fact, my dear," he went on to say after a silence, "i should like to adopt her--i mean, of course, take a particular interest in her. she has appealed to me very strongly from the first. you can be a mother to josie and i'll be a father to rose." there was something sombre under his smiling utterance of these words. their eyes did not meet, and there was a silence. at last the doctor said: "the girl's physical perfection is wonderful. most farmers' girls are round in the shoulders, and flat in the hips, but rose has grown up like a young colt. add culture and ease to her and she'll mow a wide swath, largely without knowing it, for the girl is incapable of vanity." the wife listened with a brooding face. rose's splendid prophecy of maternity oppressed her some way. when the girls went up to bed, terror and homesickness and depression all came back upon rose again. she sat down desolately upon the little cream-and-gold chair and watched josie as she pattered about taking down her hair and arranging it for the night. she could not help seeing the multitude of bottles and little combs and powder puffs and boxes and brushes which josie gloated over, seeing that rose was interested. they were presents, she said, and named the givers of each. it was a revelation to rose of the elegancies of a dainty, finicky girl's toilet. she thought of the ragged wash-brush and wooden-backed hair-brush and horn comb which made up her own toilet set, and grew hot and cold. josephine was delighted to have some one sit and stare in that admiring way at her, therefore she displayed all her paces. she brushed her hair out with her ivory-backed brush, and laid out all her beautiful underwear, trimmed with lace and embroidered in silk. she did it without malice, but rose thought of her worn cotton things, shapeless and ugly. she never could undress before josephine in the world! she delayed and delayed until josie had cuddled down into her bed with her little pink nose sticking out, and her merry eyes blinking like the gaze of a kitten. rose waited, hoping those bright eyes would close, but they would not. at last a desperate idea came to her. she sprang up and went to the gaslight. "how do you put this out?" she asked. josie gurgled with laughter. "just turn that thingamabob underneath. yes, _that_--turn it quick--that's right. o, ain't it dark! but you ain't undressed yet, and the matches are out in the bathroom." rose was more at her ease in the dark. "never mind, i can undress in the dark. i'm used to it." she loosened the collar of her dress, slipped off her shoes, and lay down on the bed bitter and rebellious. when josie awoke in the morning the country girl was awake and fully dressed and reading a book by the window. the wrinkly red dress could not utterly break up the fine lines of her firm bust and powerful side and thigh, and the admiring little creature hopped out of bed and stole across the room, and threw her arms about rose. "how big and beautiful you are!" these wonderful words ran into the country girl's blood like hot scented wine. to be beautiful made some amends for being coarse and uncultured. as she had never felt abasement before, so she had never felt the need of being beautiful until now. she turned a radiant, tearful face to josie, and seized her hands. "i--i like you--o, so much!" "i knew we'd be friends," cried the little one dancing about. "and you'll let me go and help you buy your things, won't you?" "o, i'll be _glad_ to have you--i'm such a fool. i don't know anything at all that i ought to know." "you're just splendid. i'm the one who don't know anything." then they entered upon a day of shopping. they toiled like ants and buzzed like bees. rose came home at night worn out, discouraged and dumb as an indian. she had submitted to her fate, but she was mentally sore, lame and confused. she no longer cared whether josie saw her poverty or not, and she went to sleep out of utter fatigue, her eyes wet with tears of homesickness. all she hoped for seemed impossible and of no account, and sleep in her own attic bed appeared to be the sweetest thing in the world. her good, vigorous blood built up her courage during the night, but she was hardly a sweet and lovable companion in the days which followed. she (temporarily) hated josie and feared mrs. thatcher. thatcher himself, however, was her savior, for she would surely have gone home had it not been for him. she had a notable set-to with the dressmaker. "i won't come here again," she said, sullenly. "i don't want any dresses, i'm going home. i'm tired of being pulled and hauled." the dressmaker was a brisk little alsatian, with something of the french adroitness in her manner. "o, my dear young friend! if you only knew! i am in despair! you have such a beautiful figure. you would give me such pleasure if i might but finish this lovely gown." rose looked at her from under a scowling prominent forehead. she had never been called beautiful before, at least not by one who was disinterested or a stranger, and she did not believe the woman. the dressmaker passed her hands caressingly over the girl's splendid bust and side. "ah! i can make myself famous if i may but fit those lines." rose softened and put on the gown once more and silently permitted herself to be turned and turned about like a tin sign, while the little artist (which she was) went about with a mouth full of pins, gurgling, murmuring and patting. this was the worst of the worry, and the end of all the shopping was in sight. the touch of soft flannels upon her flesh, the flow of ample and graceful gowns helped her at once. her shoulders lifted and her bust expanded under properly cut and fitted garments. quickly, unconsciously she became herself again, moving with large, unfettered movements. she dominated her clothing, and yet her clothing helped her. being fit to be seen, she was not so much troubled by the faces of people who studied her. it was wonderful to see how she took on (in the first few weeks) the graces and refinements of her new life. she met her schoolmates each day with added ease, and came at last to be a leader among them, just as in the home coulé. her strength and grace and mastery they felt at once. her heart beat very hard and fast on the first day as she joined the stream of students moving toward the central hall. the maple trees were still in full leaf and blazing color. the sunlight was a magical cataract of etherealized gold, and the clouds were too beautiful to look at without a choking in the throat. as she stepped over the deeply-worn stone sill, she thought of the thousands of other country girls whose feet had helped to wear that hollow, and her heart ached with unaccountable emotion. above her noisy feet clattered and bounded on the winding stairway, and careless voices resounded. she climbed in silence. in such wise she began to climb the way of knowledge, the way which has no returning foot-steps, and which becomes ever more lonely as the climber rises. chapter x quiet years of growth outwardly her days were uneventful. she came and went quietly, and answered her teachers with certainty and precision. she was not communicative to her companions, and came to know but few of them during the first term. she watched the trees go sere and bare, and calculated on the progress of the farmwork. she wondered if the men were in the corn yet, or whether it were too cold a morning to plow. she studied the sky to see if there were signs of snow. she could not at once throw off her daily supervision of the weather and of farmwork. her father wrote only at long intervals. his chapped and stiffened hands managed the pen-stock but painfully. he wrote of the farm affairs, the yield of corn, the weight of the steers or hogs he had sold, and asked her how many turkeys he had best keep over. carl wrote once or twice and stopped. he was a still more reluctant correspondent. carl meant little to her now. the doctor's dominion was absolute, and yet there was a subtle change. she no longer blushed in his presence, and he seemed older and nearer to her, more like an uncle and adviser. the figure he had been, took its place beside that of william de lisle. more substantial, but less sweet and mythical. her school life was not her entire intellectual life by any means. she had the power of absorbing and making use of every sight and sound about her. she saw a graceful action at table or in the drawing room, and her mind seized upon it and incorporated it. she did not imitate; she took something from every one, but from no one too much. her eyes lost their round nervous stare, but they searched, searched constantly, as was natural for a girl of her years and fine animal nature, but there was brain back of it all. the young men knew nothing of her searching eyes; indeed, they thought her cold, and a little contemptuous of them. meanwhile their elegance often alienated them from her. there were many types not far removed from carl and henry; farmer's boys with some touch of refinement and grace, but others had a subtle quality, which told of homes of refinement and luxury. two wonderful things had come to her. one was the knowledge that she was beautiful, which she came to understand was the burning desire of all women; and again that she was master of things which had scared her. she could wear lovely dresses unconsciously, and sit at table with ease, and walk before her classmates without tremor. she felt power in her heart, as well as in her fist. her winter was a quiet one. she came and went between her classes and her home at dr. thatcher's. she studied in her own room or recited to the doctor when he was at leisure. he liked to have the girls come into his study when he was not too busy, and there he sat figuring on the probable effect of cocaine or atropine in a certain case, while the girls read or talked. those were wonderful hours to the country girl. she was a long way from the little cottage on the old coulé farm at such times. dr. thatcher felt the same beauty and power in the droop of the head which had attracted him first in the old school-house, only enriched and in nobler colorings here. they went sleighing together, with shouting and laughter, as if the doctor were a girl, too. they went skating, and once in awhile to some entertainment at the church. they were not theatre-going people, and the lectures and socials of the town and college made up their outings. it was the doctor's merry interest in their doings which made young men so unnecessary to rose as well as to josephine. then came spring again; the southwest wind awoke, snow began to go, the grass showed here and there, and rose's thoughts turned back toward the coulé. there were days when every drop of her blood called out for the hills and the country roads, the bleat of lambs, the odor of fields, and the hum of bees, but she kept on at work. something elemental stirred in her blood as the leaves came out. the young men took on added grace and power in her eyes. when they came before her in their athletic suits, lithe, clean-limbed, joyous, then her eyes dreamed and her heart beat till the blood choked her breathing. o, the beautiful sky; o, the shine and shade of leaves! o, the splendor of young manhood! she fought down the dizziness which came to her. she smiled mechanically as they stood before her with frank, clean eyes and laughing lips, and so, slowly, brain reasserted itself over flesh, and she, too, grew frank and gay. then came the vacation. the partings, the bitter pain of leaving the young people she had learned to love, and, too, came the thought of home. the dear old coulé with its peaks and camel humps, and pappa john! he was waiting to see her there! so the pain of leaving her mates was mingled with the joy of home-coming. she romped on the grass with the young lambs. she followed pappa john about as of old, in the fields, while he wondered and marveled at her. she was so fine and white and lady-like. she was fain to know all the news of the farm, and the neighborhood. she felt like kissing all the dear old ladies in the coulé. o, the old friends were the best after all! you could rest on them. they didn't care how you ate soup. they didn't keep you keyed up to company manners all the time. she went back to her old dresses and cotton underwear, and went dirty as she liked, and got brown and iron-muscled again. carl met her on the road one day and bowed and drove on, with hurried action of the lines. he still bore her rejection of him fresh in mind. it is everlastingly to his credit, let it be said now, that he never made use of his youthful intimacy with her. he was a man, with all the honesty and sincerity and chivalry of a race of gentlemen in his head, slow-witted as he was. chapter xi study of the stars she came back each september with delight and exultation. it was not so much like going to the world's end now, and besides, her father seemed resigned to it. back to the gleam of the lakes, the flaming sunsets, the moonlit nights filled with twang of guitars and floating harmony of fresh boyish voices, back to her girl-lovers and her books, back to the chalky odor of the recitation room. it was so sweet to climb the circular stairway again. the booming roar of the feet did not disturb her now. the greetings of the professors as they passed, made her eyes dim with pleasure. the spirit of the university had established dominion over her. these were days without care, days of silent pleasant growth. a year of sweet gravity over books and wholesome laughter over games. she studied hard, but it was a quiet pleasure to study, for she had the power of concentration which gives mastery. she was never behind, never fagged out with study. she had time for the splendor of nature and for the world of books. she read more and more each year because she felt lacking in literary knowledge. she read the books she ought to know--read them religiously. occasionally it chanced the books were those she loved to read, but not often. generally she had to bend to them as if they were lessons. she read also scott, dickens and thackeray, a volume or two each. then one day in mid-winter it chanced she fell upon "mosses from an old manse," and then all the other books waited. she read it while she walked home from the library. she read it after dinner and put it in her satchel as she went to recite. she finished it and secured the second volume; then came "twice told tales," then "the scarlet letter," and the world of woman's sin opened to her. she read that terrible book, rebelling against the dark picture, raging against the insatiable vengeance of the populace who condemned hester as if she had opened the gates of hell in the path of every daughter of new england. she could not understand, then nor thereafter, the ferocity of hate which went out against the poor defenseless woman. what had the woman done? she struggled over the problem. she felt in herself that terrible ceaseless urging. her thoughts were not clear, they were still only raised figures in the web of organic thought, but she was accomplishing great conceptions. she knew it was wrong, but why it was wrong troubled her. the law--yes, but what lay behind the law? the mormon had one law, the turks another. why was this english law better than any other? why were the animals freer than men? their lives were good and healthy, they lived in the sunshine and were untroubled. such were a few of the questions she grappled with. god only knows the temptations which came to her. she had days when all the (so-called) unclean things she had ever seen, all the overheard words of men's coarse jests, came back like vultures to trouble her. sometimes when she walked forth of a morning, the sun flamed across the grass with ineffable beauty. the whole earth was radiant; every sound was a song; every lithe youth moved like a god before her, and it was then that something deep in her, something drawn from generations of virtuous wives and mothers, saved her from the whirlpool of passion. at such times she felt dimly the enormous difference between her nature and that of josephine. josephine's passion was that of a child--hers that of an imaginative and complex man. she was silent after these days of gayety. she was not a chatterer at any time, but after these moods she was almost sullen once more, and she fell upon her lessons with renewed zeal, as a monk flagellates his rebellious flesh. after these days of searching eyes she refused to look at any of her young male friends. she answered them crustily and turned away from them, but this did not serve to cure her nor to keep the young men away. always at such times william de lisle's glorious presence drew near in the dusk, insubstantial and luminous as a cloud, and she set her teeth in fresh resolve to be wise and famous; to be worthy his look and his word of praise. she had suitors constantly. her dark haughty face, warm with blood, her erect and powerful figure excited admiration among the young men, and they courted her with the wholesome frankness of clean and vigorous manhood. the free and natural intercourse of the college kept the young people healthy as a home circle. as the doctor came to take a different place in her love, rose became open to the advances of other men. twice during the winter she felt the power of love touch her. in the first instance her eyes sought and found among her classmates a young man's physical beauty, and her imagination clothed him with power and mystery, and she looked for him each day, and life was less interesting and purposeful when he was not present. she made no open advances, she scarcely needed to, for he also saw, and when he came to her and she flushed and trembled with weakness, it seemed as if her life had at last taken a fixed direction. for a few weeks the man was her ideal. she saw him before her constantly. she knew his smile, the lift of his eye-brows, the shape of his ears, the slope of his shoulders, the sound of his voice. she looked at him stealthily from her book. she contrived to sit where she could watch every motion. she walked down the street with him each day, half numb with her emotion. but this ecstasy did not last. she felt eventually his shallowness and narrowness. he was vain and ungenerous. he grew sere and bare of grace and charm like the autumn elms, and at last he stood empty and characterless before her, and her eyes looked over and beyond him, into the blue sky again, and throughout it all she kept her place in her classes and no one was aware of her new ideal. when she turned away from him he did not grow pale and lean. he grew a little vicious and said: "she is too cold and proud for my taste." her next suitor was a worthy young man who was studying law in the town. a fine, clean young fellow, who paid court to her with masterly address. he was older than she, and was a better scholar and brought to her less of the clotheshorse and more of the man than her freshly outgrown lover. before spring began he had won great intimacy with her--almost an engagement. he was adroit. he did not see her too much, and he came always at his best. he appealed to the most imaginative side of her nature. she glorified his calling as well as his person. he was less handsome than his predecessor, but he brought an ample and flowing phraseology, and a critical knowledge of farm-life as well as of town-life. once he took her to the court-room to hear him plead. he took her to the socials, and once to the theater. there was his mistake! the play made a most powerful impression upon her, more powerful than anything since the circus at tyre. it raised new and wordless ambitions. for the first time in her life she saw society dress on the stage. the play was one which pretended, at least, to show new york and london life. therefore men in claw-hammer coats came and went, with strange accents and with cabalistic motions of hats and gloves, and women moved about with mystic swagger. the heroine glowed like a precious stone in each act, now sapphire, now pearl, now ruby. she spoke in a thick, throaty murmur and her white shoulders shone like silver, and her wide childish eyes were like wells of light-diffusing liquid. rose gazed at her with unwearying eyes. her bosom rose and fell as if she had been running, and she said in her heart: "_i_ can do that! i could stand there and do that!" then the theme of the play filled her with strange new thoughts. these people lived out before her a condition which she had read about but which had never been discussed in her presence. a husband discovers his wife to have been a lover and mother in her girlhood, and in a tempest of self-righteous passion flings her to the ground in scorn and horror. she clings to his feet (in approved stage fashion), pleading for mercy: "i was so young!" he would not listen. "go!--or no, stay--i will go. i make the home over to you, but never look upon my face again." while rose burned with shame and indignation, the outraged woman on the stage grew white and stern. "who are you to condemn me so?" she asked in icy calm. "are you the saint you profess to be? will one offence contain your crime against me?" "what do you mean?" thundered the man and husband. "you know what i mean. in my weakness i was stained, ineffaceably; i admit it--but you, in your strength, have you not preyed upon weak women? the law allows you to escape disgrace--nature and law force me to suffer with mine." rose thought of carl and his courtship with such a shudder as one feels in remembering a rescue from an abyss. a hundred great confusing questions floated by in her mind, like clouds in a mist of rain--formless, vast, trailing deeper shadow beneath them. the self-sufficient young lawyer beside her said as the curtain fell: "there was nothing else for her husband to do but just fire her out." rose heard him but did not reply. she felt a sharp revulsion of feeling toward him for his coarse, hard tone. when he laid his hand on her she shook it off, and when he asked a question of her she did not reply. he was annoyed also, and so they waited for the curtain to rise on the final act. the wife was sick and dying. the dramatist had not the courage to work out his theme. he killed the wife, so that the husband should not appear to condone and take her to wife again. she died while he, magnanimously, forgave her. * * * * * as they walked home, with fatuous insistence her lover talked with rose about the case. he took the man's side. he hinted at the reason--presuming upon their intimacy. men outgrow such experiences, he said; women do not. they are either one thing or the other--either pure as angels or black as devils. rose closed her lips tight, and her eyes flamed with indignant protest, but she said nothing in reply. in her heart she knew it was a lie. a woman can set her foot above her dead self as well as a man. when he tried to kiss her good-bye she pushed him aside and left him without a word. he, too, was a bare and broken ideal. her heart went back again to william de lisle, as the young eagle goes back to the sun-warmed cliff to rest and dream, with eyes to the sun. that night put her girlhood far from her. she grew five years older in the weeks which followed. her mind took up irresistibly one insoluble problem after another and wrestled with it in silence. josie's chatter went on around her like the sound of the swallows in the eaves of the old barn at home. her mind was like a piece of inconceivably intricate machinery, full of latent and complicated motion. a word, a touch, and it set to work, and out of its working some fine inner heat and glow changed the whole mental and physical equilibrium of her nature, and she became something else, finer, more mysterious, and more alluring--though this she did not realize. thereafter the young man of her acquaintance did not draw her. her eyes had been raised to higher altitudes. she fell upon her books with terrible industry, in the hope that they would throw some light on her problems and ambitions. there was nothing she did not think of during these character-forming days. the beauty and peace of love, the physical joy of it; the problem of marriage, the terror of birth--all the things girls are supposed not to think of, and which such girls as rose must irresistibly think of, came to her, tormenting her, shaking her to the inmost center of her nature, and through it all she seemed quite the hearty young school girl she was, for this thought was wholesome and natural, not morbid in any degree. she was a child in the presence of the doctor, but a woman with her suitors. the doctor helped her very much, but in the most trying moments of her life (and no man can realize these moments) some hidden force rose up to dominate the merely animal forces within. some organic magnificent inheritance of moral purity. she was saved by forces within, not by laws without. opportunities to sin always offer in every life. virtue is not negative, it is positive; it is a decoration won by fighting, resisting. this sweet and terrible attraction of men and women towards each other is as natural and as moral as the law of gravity, and as inexorable. its perversion produces trouble. love must be good and fine and according to nature, else why did it give such joy and beauty? natural as was this thought, she hid it from her associates. most women die with it unacknowledged, even to their own spoken thought. she would have been helped by talk with the doctor, or at least with his wife. but there was a growing barrier between mrs. thatcher and herself, and the doctor did not seem the same good friend. she felt a change coming in the whole household. when she went home at the close of her second year, she had a feeling that she would never again return to the old sweet companionship with dr. thatcher. he was too busy now, apparently, to give her the time he once seemed so glad to give. he never asked her to ride with him now. she was troubled by it and concluded they were tired of her, and so she, too, grew cold and reserved. * * * * * the day she left, the doctor, after he had driven rose to the train, called his wife into the office. "sit down a moment, wife, i want to talk with you." he faced her bravely. "i guess we'd better arrange for rose to go to one of the chapter-houses next year. there's no need to beat around the bush--she takes up too much of my thought, and you know it and i know it." it drew blood to say that. it took manhood to look his wife in the eyes then, but he did it. "it isn't her fault, and it isn't yours--it isn't mine, as a matter of justice. rose is just what she's always been, a good, sweet girl--i wouldn't have her see anything but friendly interest in my eyes for half my heart--i'm afraid she will, so--i guess----" he was talking through set teeth. "i wish you'd tell her we can't offer her a home; i can't do it." he rose and went to his wife. "my dear, don't cry--you've watched this thing come on in brave silence--not every wife would have kept silence so long. it won't break up our comradeship, will it, dear? we've jogged along so peacefully these fifteen years--we ought to overlook a little thing like this!" he smiled a little, then he stooped and put his arm about her. "come, give me a kiss, and let's adopt no more handsome girls till i'm sixty-five." she rose and lifted her sad face to his. "it's my fault, if i--" he kissed her and said: "no more of that! you're my faithful wife. what helps the matter materially is this--rose thinks of me as a sober old settler now." this ended it so far as any outward showing ever defined his feeling, but the presence of the girl never left him. at night, as he sat at his desk at the hour which almost always used to bring rose down from her room to discuss her lessons with him, he grew sad and lonely. "if i had a child," he said to himself, "i could bear it more easily." when rose returned, she went into one of the co-operative boarding-houses, and slowly drifted away from the doctor and his family. she never quite knew why. it puzzled her for a time, and then she forgot it--in the fashion of youth. chapter xii the gates open wide of what avail the attempt to chronicle those days? they were all happy, and all busy, yet never alike. when the sun shone it was beautiful, and when the wind roared in the trees and the rain slashed like falling sails, it was equally glorious. on clear, crisp, bright winter days the air grew magical with bells, and the grating snarl of the ice-boat's rudder was thrilling as a lion's cry. it was apart from the world of care and politics and revolution. there was fun, whirlwinds of it, at the chapter-house when studies were over, and there was fun at the professedly-formal girl-banquets where the chairman arose to say, "gentlemen, the honor--" and everybody shrieked to see her pull an imaginary chin-whisker. there was more fun on winter nights, when loads of people packed into the bob-tail mule-cars (which tinkled up the snowy street with wonderful persistency), while the passengers trod on each other's toes and chaffed the driver. and the wonderful nights under the stars, walking home with arm fast anchored in a fellow's grip; or strolls in summer beside the lake, or dreamy hours floating at sunset in a boat which lay like a lily's petal, where skies of orange and purple met water of russet-gold and steely-blue. and there was the glory of mounting also. one by one the formidable mesas of calculations, conjugations, argumentations, fell below her feet, and rose grew tall in intellectual grace. she had no mental timidities. truth with her came first, or if not first, certainly she had little superstitious sentiment to stand in the way. she was still the same impatient soul as when she shook her little fist at the almighty's lightning. it was this calm, subconscious assumption of truth's ultimate harmony with nature's first cause which she delighted in as she entered physics and astronomy. her enthusiasm for the hopeless study of the stars developed into a passion. they exalted her and saddened her. she lifted her eyes to them, and the ultimate distances of their orbits swept upon her with overwhelming power. she felt again the ache in the heart which came to her as a child on the bluff-top, when the world seemed spread out before her. when she turned her face upward now it was to think of the awful void spaces there, of the mysteries of each flaming planet, and of the helplessness and weakness of the strongest man. for a year she plunged into astronomy. it had the allurement and the sombre aloofness of unrequited love. it harmonized well with her restless, limitless inner desire. these sudden passions for this or that art were signs of her strength and not her weakness. they sprang out of her swift and ready imagination, which enabled her to take on the personality of the artist, and to feel his joy of power. it was quite normal that she should desire to be successively circus rider, poet and astronomer, and yet, now that her graduation was near, she was as far from a real decision as ever. "what are you going to do after graduation?" josie said. rose grew grave. "i don't know. go on studying somewhere." "i'm going to have a good time!" "you're always having a good time, you little oriole." rose had come to patronize josie in these later days. "i envy you so," she sighed. "the world is so simple for you." "i don't understand you when you go on like that--you'll come tomorrow and see my new dress, won't you?" graduation meant for josephine the chance to wear a fetching gown, and be looked at by an immense crowd--and one extra man. this was supposed to be a secret, but everybody who cared to give it a thought, knew of it and smiled at her as they would at a child. josie could be nothing else but a child. to most of the students graduation day came rushing with sorrowful speed. it meant passing from sunlit lanes of maple and lilac out into the bleak highways of trade and labor. it meant the beginning of struggle with pitilessness in man and nature. as students they were not in the race for subsistence, but as citizens and professional men they were to be competitors in trades and crafts already overflowing. graduation day drew near, and a tremulous ecstasy came into the lives of the outgoing students--a joy made more precious by its certainty of passing. to rose graduation day came as the sweetest, saddest day of her life. it seemed to close a gate upon something in her history. the smiling, yet mournful, faces of her friends, the wistful eyes of the young men who loved her, the rustle of leaves, the gleam of the water, the dapple of light and shade on the campus, the exaltation of the public moment, all these wondrous things rushed upon her like a flood, and overwhelmed her ambitions and desires, powerful as they were. at last the books were closed and packed away. the commencement exercises began with the reception in science hall. the night fell slowly, and the fine new building grew alight story after story, and crowds began to stream in. the students led the way, rakish, full of airs, except when piloting their parents about. the fun had been almost furious all day. there were many of the relatives of the students present, and often they stood out in sharp contrast with the decorations and with the joy of the young people. beautiful girls might be seen leading bent and wrinkled fathers and mothers, who had sacrificed all for them. rose wished for her father, and passionately desired to do something for him. he had written that he couldn't leave the farm, and so she wandered about with others, like herself, free. everywhere the young men met her. she never escaped them for a moment, their pursuit was relentless. the crowd swarmed into each room, where the professors stood beside show-cases, polite and patient, exhibiting machines, specimens, drawings. at another place sherbet was served to the guests, and music could be heard in the lower halls. everywhere was the lisp of feet, the ripple of talk. all this was a bore to many of the pupils, for there was the peace-pipe ceremonial preparing on the campus, that they really waited for. mysteriously in the deep dusk a huge heap of combustibles had been piled up on the wet grass, and one by one the two classes began to gather. there was a mutter of voices, a command, then a red flame flashed out, and with it the college yell soared up from a little bunch of dark forms: "rah-rah-rah-wisconsin!" the stragglers on the walks turned toward the fire, like insects. they came in crawling dark lines like ants, across the wet grass. they formed a blue-black mass, lighted on one side by the orange light of the bonfire. the stars overhead grew green and dim in the light of the fire, and the encircling trees of the campus came out like silhouettes of purple-green cardboard. the class rolled out its carpet for the girls and opened its boxes of long clay pipes. it seemed so much more important to rose now that she stood there in the center as one of the graduating class. there was not much talk. they lined up and sang song after song. then the boys moved about and showed the girls how to light their pipes. "you want to suck, not blow, on it!" a voice called out, and everybody laughed dutifully. for a few moments all was laughter. the girls tried to assume the airs of smokers, and puffed their kinnikinnick furiously. then as they sang they swung their pipes with rakish air,--"there is a tavern in our town" and "the bull-frog in the pool," and their voices floated out and up into the wreathing smoke of the fire, as deliciously sweet as though their songs were hymns of praise as they were hymns of youth. the pipes needed constant relighting. in every silence some girl cried out: "o, my pipe's gone out!" one cried: "give me a bite!" as if the pipe-stem were taffy. to rose the whole ceremony was glorious. it carried her out of herself. it gave her a glimpse into the world which men keep to themselves, and, besides, she had written the speech handing the pipe down to the custodian of the succeeding class, a really admirable ceremony. here on this spot the red men warred and loved. here, with the sheen of lakes about, and the wild grass under their feet, it was beautiful and appropriate that they should be remembered by these young western sons and daughters of the white man. the mock antagonism between seniors and juniors seemed to have great meaning when tom harris spoke the lofty phrases she had written for him, standing outlined against the soaring fire like a silhouette of velvet, his voice rolling out with lofty suspensive power. "here on the spot where our fathers have dwelt for countless suns and moons we ask for peace. we call upon you to bury the hatchet. forgive and forget; you who have scars forgive, and you who have wrongs forget. let all evil spirits be exorcised by the pipe. here we break the arrow. here we tender the sacred pipe. brothers--sisters, we have spoken!" the fire burned low. as they sat in circles on the ground and chanted their songs, the sky grew blacker, the trees melted into the darkness, the last wailing cadence floated into silence, and then subdued, tender, they rose and vanished, in pairs and groups, into the darkness like the songs they sang. the class of -- had entered upon its long, long trail, some to the plains of failure, some to the mountains of victory. this quaint and suggestive custom received new strength from the oration which rose contributed. all felt its power and beauty. to the girls the whole ceremony was a rare and delicious piece of audacity. it did them good. it gave them something to look back upon with laughter, into which a sigh and a little catching of the breath might also come. something elemental and primitive came to rose amid all the laughter and song. what was she more than the swart women who had lived here and been wooed of men? was there not something magnificent in their frank following of the trail of pure passion? they loved, and bore children, and ground at the corn mills, and died as the female bison died, and other women came after them to do like unto them, to what end? some such questions, vague, ever shadowy, formless, moved rose, as she lay down to sleep that night. outside a mandolin twanged--the boys were serenading her, but she had not the wish to see them. she did not go to the window, as the other girls did, deliciously excited, almost hysteric with the daring of being possibly seen in their night-gowns. she kept sombre silence, stirred by profounder emotions than they were capable of. she thought of william de lisle but seldom now. in open daylight she was a little ashamed of her idolatry, but on nights like these, when love songs and moonlight fused together, his figure came before her, not so clear a personality now, but as a type of beauty, as a center of dreams, of something wild and free and splendid--something she was to attain to some good day. she had no thought of attaining him, but some one like unto him. some one who was grand as her dream of heroes and loyal as her father. it was characteristic of her that while the lovers singing without made her companions utter hysterical laughter, she was sad and wished to be alone. their desires were on the surface, shifting, sparkling, seeking kisses. hers was dark, and deep down, sombre, savage, prophetic. love with her was a thing not to be uttered. she silenced all jests about it, and all familiarity on the part of her suitors she had put away. during her first year she had allowed her lover to take her hand, as carl used to do, because it seemed the usual thing, but after breaking off that entanglement she resolutely set to work to study, and no man had since considered himself her lover. to permit a caress now meant all the world to her. it meant change, undoing of plans, throwing away ambitions. it meant flinging herself to the immemorial sacrifice men demand of women. there were times when she felt the impulse to do this. she felt it that night as the clear voices of the serenaders came floating in at her window. what did it matter? what could she do in the mighty world? what did the indian girl, when her lover sang from his canoe among the water lilies in the lake? why not go to one of these good, clean young men and be a wife? what did it matter--her ambition--her hope? "i will," she said, and a wild rush of blood choked her breathing, "i'll end it all." but the singing died away, the moonlight vanished out of the room, and the passionate longing and tumult of her blood grew slowly quiet, and she slept. when the sun rose there was no man in her world who could have won her consent to marriage. her ambitions rose like the sun, buoyant as young eagles, while the singers of the night before were hapless fireflies, tangled in the dewy grass, their love-light dim, their singing lost. * * * * * she was not done with this problem, however. she saw in one man's eyes something to be answered. she had her answer ready, though she hoped to escape the ordeal. he hovered close about her all the morning. he came by the chapter-house for her, but she had gone to the chapel. she felt a little guilty toward him. she had attended concerts with him. she had accepted his company now and again because she liked him and because--well, it was convenient, and by selecting him she escaped the attentions of others. she had seemed to acquiesce in his proprietorship of her, and yet always when alone she had tried to show him that they could only be friends. this he had persistently misunderstood. she was almost the tallest of her classmates, she led the march into the chapel for the final ceremonies, a splendid and terrible moment, toward which they had looked for weeks, and for which they had elaborately planned dresses and procedure. it was all so wistfully beautiful. the cool spacious hall filled with hushed people; the vivid green trees looking in at the windows and the soft air burdened with bee songs and the smell of flowers. the june sunlight dappled the lawn with marvels of shade and shine. the music seemed to wail as they marched, and the rustling stir and murmur of comment helped to unnerve them all even to men. the speaker looked down upon them with comprehension. he was an eastern man and an old man, also he was a poet. he was just, and he had seen how clean and fine this co-educational school was. the day was beautiful to him as to them, and he comprehended their feelings well. he looked down into their pensive faces, he saw the sorrowful arching of their brows, the sad droop of their lips. his shaggy head drooped forward as he talked to them, till his kind old face, lined with genial wrinkles, seemed to grow beautiful and tender and maternal. he had reared many children of his own, and he now took the young people into his heart. he told them much of his life and trials--how work was in the world for them; play, too--but work, hard work, glorious work! work for humanity as well as for themselves. he conveyed to them something of the spirit of altruism into which the world seemed about to enter on its orbit as it swings through clouds of star-dust. they cheered him when he ended, and then the president, in brief words, presented their diplomas. among them now were bitten lips, and tremulous chins and tearful eyes. the doors had closed behind them and they faced the whole world, it seemed. for years they had studied here, in storm and sun, but now they remembered only the sunlight, all fused and blended into one radiant vista. as they stood for their final benediction a splendid snowy cloud sailed across the sun, and the room darkened mystically. a shudder of exquisite pleasure and pain thrilled rose, and a little moan pushed from her throat, but the shadow lifted, the organ sounded out a fine brave strain, and the class of -- was ended. it was now a group of men and women facing the open road. with low words of greeting and congratulation the graduates and their friends lingered about the chapel. slowly it emptied and the hill grew populous again with groups of leisurely moving figures. there were scholars showing their parents about the grounds, there were groups of visiting towns-people, and there were the lovers, two and two, loitering, wandering (she in dainty white gown, he in cap and jacket), two-and-two in world-old, sex-old fashion. they lay on the banks and watched the boats on the gleaming lake where other lovers were. they threaded the hill-paths where the thrush moved with quick rustle, and the pale wood-flowers peered above the fragrant mosses. they stood on the beach skipping pebbles, he lithe and laughing, she tender, palpitating, wistful and sombre, or fitfully gay. everywhere laughter had a solemn sweet undertone; "good-bye!" trembled so close to "i love you!" rose saw young harris approaching, and a faintness took hold upon her limbs. he was at his princeliest estate--never would he be handsomer. his summer suit set close to his agile and sinewy figure. his cap rested lightly on his curly hair. his frank blue eyes were laughing, but his lips were tremulous with feeling. "well, rose, all the girls have deserted me so i'm glad to find you alone," he said, but she knew he was never deserted. "let's take a walk. the whole school seems to be divided off into teams. looks as if the whole crowd would trot in double harness, don't it?" she did not reply, he hardly expected her to do so. "going to the ball with me tonight, aren't you?" "no, i guess not." "i was in hopes you'd change your mind." "i can't dance those new-fangled figures." "o, you'd catch on in a jiffy. you should have gone out more." they moved down the hill to the beach road, and as they walked harris talked, talked against time, he would have said. they strolled on past the small boys fishing, past other low-voiced couples, out into comparative solitude where the farms began. she knew what was coming but she could not stop, could not then turn back. they came at last to a grassy little knoll which looked out upon the lake, and there he laughingly spread out his handkerchief for her. "sit here, my liege lady!" it was red clover, and its powerful fragrance swept upon her with a vision of the hay-field at home. harris lay down below her so that he could see her face, and the look in his eyes made her shiver again. nothing so beautiful and powerful and pagan-free had come to her since that day when she danced with carl beneath the dappling leaves, when woman's passion first stirred within her. the sailing clouds, the clicking insects, the smell of leaves and flowers all strove on the side of the lover. it was immemorial, this scene, this impulse. "well, rose, this is our last day at school, and what i want to know is this, is it the last we shall see of each other?" she made an effort and answered: "why, no, i hope not." "you hope not--then there is hope for me? confound it, rose, i'm not going to talk in riddles. you're the only girl in the world for me." he took her hand. "and i can't live without you. you are going to live with me, aren't you, rose?" she shook her head, but tears dropped upon his hand. he allured her like the sunshine, this lithe young lover. his keen eyes saw a lack of decision in this head shake. he held her hand and his fingers caressed her wrist. unconsciously, with pure intent, he used all the wiles of men, which women love, yet dread. his voice grew vibrant, yet remained low, his clear eyes called in subtler speech than his tongue. his wrist touched her knee, his hair moved in the soft wind. "i can't bear to go home without you, rose, darling. come, tell me, don't you care for me at all, not the least bit?" she tried to draw her hand away, but he held it and continued: "i've got everything all planned. i'm going into law with my father. i've got plans for a house, and we'll begin life together today----" his physical charm united itself some way with the smell of clover, the movement of the wind and the warm flood of sunshine. she had never loved him, though she had always liked him, but now something sweet and powerful, something deep buried, rose in her heart and shortened her breath. her face burned, her throat was swollen shut, her face was distorted, for one moment she was mastered. then the swift revulsion came, and she drew her hand away and sprang up. "no!" she cried harshly and bitterly, "i can't do it; it is impossible. go away!" then the blood slowly fell away from her neck and face, and her heart ceased to pound, her eyes cleared and she grew gentle again, seeing his pained and frightened face. "i didn't mean that--i didn't mean to be so rough, tom, but it's no use. i don't want to marry you, nor anybody else. all i want is to be let alone. i'm going to chicago. i want to see the world. i can't be shut up in a little town like lodi. i want to see people--thousands of people. i want to see what the world is like. i may go to europe before i get done with it. i'm going to study art. i'm going to be great. i can't marry any one now." she poured out her confidences in swift, almost furious protest. she had never confided to him so much before. his pain was not so overpowering but he found strength to say: "i thought you were going to be a writer." she flushed again. "well, i am. but i'm going to be a painter, too. i'm going home," she said abruptly, and in such wise they walked along the returning way. the glamour was gone from the young man's hair and eyes. she saw him as he was, clean, boyish, shallow. his physical charm was lost, and a sort of disgust of his supple waist and rounded limbs came upon her, and disgust at herself for that one moment of yielding weakness; and also the keen fear of having been unjust, of having given him a claim which she was repudiating, troubled her. he made one last attempt. "rose, i wish you'd reconsider. what can you do in the world?" "i don't know. i can be my own master for one thing," she replied. "i can see the world for another thing--and besides, i don't want to marry any one just yet." her voice was abrupt, merciless, and the young fellow bowed his head to his sentence. she was too mysterious and powerful for him to understand. "what could i do in lodi? gossip with old women and grow old. i know those towns. i had rather live in the country than in one of those flat little towns." "but i'll go to the city with you if you want me to. i can get a place there. i know two men--" "no, no! i can't do it. i want to be free. i've got something to do, and,--i don't care for you--" "well, go to the ball with me tonight, won't you?" he pleaded. "yes, if you never speak about this to me again." he promised; of course he promised. standing where he did he would have promised anything. * * * * * it was a singular and lovely ball. the people came together simply and quietly, on foot, or on the tinkling mule-car. there were no ultra-fashionable dresses, and no jewelry. the men came in various cuts of coats, and the girls wore simple white, or blue or mauve dresses, beneath which their lithe untrammeled waists and firm rounded limbs moved with splendid grace. it was plain all were not practised dancers. some of the young men danced with hands waggling at the wrist, and the girls did not know all the changes, but laughter was hearty and without stint. around the walls sat or stood the parents of the dancers, dignified business men and their wives, keen-eyed farmers and village merchants and lawyers. there were also the alumni from all over the west, returned to take part in the exercises, to catch a glimpse of the dear old campus. it was all a renewal of youth to them. many came from the prairies. some came from the bleak mountain towns, and the gleam of the lakes, the smell of grass, the dapple of sunlight on the hillside affected them almost to tears. now they danced with their wives and were without thought or care of business. professors danced with their pupils, husbands with their wives, who had also been pupils here. lovely, lithe young girls dragged their bearded old fathers out into the middle of the floor, amid much laughter, and the orchestra played "money-musk" and "old zip coon" and "the fireman's dance" for their benefit. then the old fellows warmed up to it, and danced right manfully, so that the young people applauded with swift clapping of their hands. plump mothers took part in the quaint old fashioned figures, and swung and balanced and "sashayed" in a gale of fun. it was a beautiful coming together of the university. it represented the unspoiled neighborliness and sex _camaraderie_ of the west. its refinement was not finicky, its dignity was not frigidity, and its fun was frank and hearty. may the inexorable march of wealth and fashion pass by afar off, and leave us some little of these dear old forms of social life. it had a tender and pensive quality, also. the old were re-living the past, as well as the young, and all had an unconscious feeling of the transitoriness of these tender and careless hours. smiles flashed forth on the faces of the girls like hidden roses disclosed in deep hedges by a passing wind-gust, to disappear again in pensive, thoughtful deeps. rose danced with dr. thatcher, who took occasion to say: "well, rose, you leave us soon." "yes, tomorrow, doctor." "what are your plans?" "i don't know; i must go home this summer. i want to go to chicago next winter." "aha, you go from world to world. rose, you will do whatever you dream of--_provided_ you don't marry." he said this as lightly as he could, but she knew he meant it. "there isn't much danger of that," she said, trying to laugh. "well, no, perhaps not." they fell into a walk, and moved slowly just outside the throng of dancers. "now, mark you, i don't advise you at all. i have realized from the first a fatality in you. no one can advise you. you must test all things for yourself. you are alone; advice cannot reach you nor influence you except as it appeals to your own reason. to most women marriage is the end of ambition, to you it may be an incentive. if you are big enough, you will succeed in spite of being wife and mother. i believe in you. can't you come and see me tomorrow? i want to give you letters to some chicago people." the company began to disperse, and the sadness impending fell upon them all. one by one good-byes were said, and the dancers one and all slipped silently away into the night. chapter xiii the woman's part it was all over at last, the good-byes, the tearful embraces, the cheery waving of hands, and rose was off for home. there were other students on the train, but they were young students whom she did not know. at the moment it seemed as if she were leaving all that was worth while--five years of the most beautiful time of her life lay behind her. she had gone there a country girl, scared and awkward. she was now a woman (it seemed to her) and the time for action of some sort had come. she did not look to marriage as a safe harbor. neither had she regarded it as an end of all individual effort, as many of her companions unequivocally had done. after her experiences during those last three days, she felt as if sex were an abomination, and she wished for freedom from love. she had already the premonition that she was of those who seem destined to know much persecution of men. her strong, forceful, full-blooded, magnetic beauty could not be hidden so deep under sober garments but that the ever-seeking male eye quickly discovered it. as she entered the car she felt its penetrating, remorseless glare, and her face darkened, though she was no longer exposed to the open insults of brakemen and drummers. there was something in the droop of her eyelids and the curve of her mouth which kept all men at a distance, even the most depraved. she was not a victim--a girl to be preyed upon. she was quite evidently a proud, strong woman, to be sued for by all flatteries and attentions. the train whirled along over the familiar route, and the land was most beautiful. fresh grass everywhere, seas of green flashing foliage, alternating with smooth slopes of meadow where cattle fed, yet she saw little of it. with sombre eyes turned to the pane she thought and thought. what was to be done now? that was the question. for a year she had been secretly writing verse and sending it to the magazines. it had all been returned to her. it made her flush hot to think how they had come back to her with scarcely a word of civility. evidently she was wrong. she was not intended for a writer after all. she thought of the stage, but she did not know how to get upon the stage. the train drew steadily forward, and familiar lines of hill-tops aroused her, and as she turned her face toward home, the bent and grizzled figure of her father came to her mind as another determining cause. he demanded something of her now after nearly five year's absence from home, for he had paid her way--made it possible for her to be what she was. there he sat holding his rearing horses and watching, waiting for her. she had a sudden, swift realization of his being a type as he sat there, and it made her throat fill, for it seemed to put him so far away, seemed to take away something of her own sweet dignified personality. there was a crowd of people on the platform. some of them she knew, some of them she did not. she looked very fine and lady-like to john dutcher as she came down the car steps, and the brakeman helped her down, with elaborate and very respectful courtesy. the horses pranced about, so that john could not even take her hand, and so she climbed into the buggy alone. "carl will take care of your trunk," he said. "give him the check." she turned to carl, whom she had not noticed. he bowed awkwardly. "how de do, rosie," he said, as he took the check. he wore brown denims, and a broad hat and looked strong and clumsy. she had no time to speak to him, for the horses whirled away up the street. the air was heavy with the scent of clover, and the bitter-sweet, pungent smells of lombardy poplar trees. they rode in silence till the village lay behind them and the horses calmed down. "cap's a perfect fool about the cars," said john. "but i had to take him; jennie's getting too heavy, i darsent take her." "how is the stock?" "o, all right. we had a big crop of lambs this spring. the bees are doing well, but the clover don't seem to attract 'em this year. the corn looks well except down near the creek--it's been wet there in rainy seasons, you remember." he gave other reports concerning stock. rose felt for the first time the unusualness of this talk. all her life she had discussed such things with him, but on previous vacations she had not been conscious of its startling plainness, but now it came to her with a sudden hot flush--think of such talk being reported of her to the doctor and mrs. thatcher! there was something strange in her father's manner, an excitement very badly concealed, which puzzled her. he drove with almost reckless swiftness up the winding coulé road. he called her attention to the way-side crops, and succeeded in making her ask: "father, what in the world is the matter with you? i never knew you to act like this." john laughed. "i'm a little upset getting you home again, that's all." she caught a gleam of new shingles through the trees. "what have you been building?" "o, nothing much--new granary--patchin' up a little," he replied evasively. when they whirled into the yard she was bewildered--the old cottage was gone and a new house stood in its place. john broke into a laugh. "how's that for a new granary?" "o father, did you do that _for me_?" "for you and me together, rosie." they sat in the carriage and looked at it. rose peered through tear-blurred lids. he loved her so--this bent old father! he had torn down the old home and built this _for her_. her aunt came out on the side porch: "hello, rosie, just in time! the shortcake is about ready. ain't you comin' in?" john gave the team up to the hired hand (who stared at rose with wondering eyes) and then they walked upon the front porch and in the front door. it was new--so new it glistened everywhere and was full of the fragrance of new lumber and the odor of paint. "i didn't get any new furniture," john said. "i thought i'd let you do that." rose turned and put her arms about his neck. "you dear old daddy, what can i do for you, you're so good to me?" "there now, don't mind, i'm paid for it now. i just want you to enjoy it, that's all, and if any feller comes around and you like him, why, you can bring him right here. it's big enough now, and i'm ready to let the farm any time." rose saw his purpose to the uttermost line. he had built this to keep her at home. how little he knew her now, to think that she could marry and bring her husband home to this place! she kissed him and then they passed into all the rooms. "come here--i've got something to show you," he said mysteriously. "i just _determined_ to have it, no matter what it cost." he pushed open a door at the head of the stairway, calling triumphantly: "there--how's that?--a bathroom!" for an instant she felt like laughing. then she looked at his kind and simple face and she broke down again and cried. john understood now that this was only her way of being glad, so he just patted her shoulder and got her a chair, and waited for her to dry her eyes. "yes, sir," he went on, "cost me a hundred dollars to put that in, say nothin' of the fixin's. i had to have special set of eave-spouts made to run the water into a cistern on top of the kitchen. i thought of bringing the water from the spring, but that's a little hard." they went down to supper at last, he full of talk, she very quiet. his loquacity was painful to her, for it seemed to indicate growing age and loneliness. the meagreness of the furniture and tableware never struck her so forcibly as now, lost in the big new house. intellectual poverty was shown also in the absence of books and newspapers, for john dutcher read little, even of political newspapers, and magazines were quite outside his experimental knowledge till rose brought a few home with her in her later vacations. there were no elegancies at their table--that too was borne in upon her along with the other disturbing things. it was as if her eyes had suddenly been opened to all the intolerable meagreness of her old-time life. "i didn't buy any carpets or wallpaper, rosie; i thought you'd like to do that yourself," john explained as she looked around the room. but outside all was beautiful, very beautiful. under the trees the sinking sun could be seen hanging just above the purple-green hills to the northwest. robins clucked, orioles whistled, a ring-dove uttered its never changing, sorrowful, sweet love-note. a thrush, high on a poplar, sang to the setting sun a wonderful hymn, and the vivid green valley, with its white houses and red barns, was flooded with orange light, heaped and brimming full of radiance and fragrance. and yet what was all that to a girl without love, a brain which craved activity, not repose? vain were sunset sky, flaming green slopes and rows of purple hills to eyes which dreamed of cities and the movement of masses of men. she was young, not old; ambitious, not vegetative. she was seeking, seeking, and to wait was not her will or wish. the old man saw nothing difficult in all this. she was educated now. he had patiently sent her to school and now it was over; she was to be his once more, his pride and comfort as of olden time. without knowing it he had forged the chains round her with great skill. every carpet she bought would bind her to stay. she was to select the wallpaper, and by so doing to proclaim her intention to conform and to content herself in the new home. she rose the next morning feeling, in spite of disturbing thought, the wonderful peace and beauty of the coulé, while her heart responded to the birds, rioting as never before--orioles, thrushes, bob-o-links, robins, larks--their voices wonderful and brilliant as the sunlight which streamed in upon her new, uncarpeted floor. as she looked around at the large, fine new room, she thought of the little attic in which she had slept so many years. yes, decidedly there would be pleasure in furnishing the house, in making her room pretty with delicate drapery and cheerful furniture. she began to plan, only to break off--it seemed in some way to be deceit. no, before she did anything to it she must tell him she could not stay here, and she went down to breakfast with that resolution tightly clutched in her teeth, but when she saw his smiling face she could not speak the word. he was so pathetically happy. she had never seen him so demonstrative, and this mood showed her how deeply he had missed her. now that she was home for good, he felt no need of concealing his exceeding great joy of her daily presence with him. she remembered all the brave words he had spoken to her in order to make her feel he did not suffer when she was happy at school. fortunately at breakfast he was full of another subject. "i s'pose you heard that carl is to be married?" he announced rather than asked her. she looked up quickly--"no, is he? to whom?" "little sary wilson." "well, i'm very glad to hear it," she said quietly. some way, at that moment she seemed more alien to him than ever before, and he looked across at her in wonder. how lady-like she was in her tasty dress. how white her hands were! and it was wonderful to think she could sit so at ease and hear of carl's approaching marriage. he remembered the time when he called them to his knee, the two young rogues. she was thinking of that too. it was far in the past, yet, far as it was, it was still measurable, and a faint flush crept over her face. no one in the world knew of that experience but carl and her father. would carl's wife ever know of it? that was the thought which caused the flush. the first day she spent in looking about the farm with john. towards evening she climbed the hills alone, and spent an hour on the familiar slope. it helped her to look down on her plans and her daily life, and the next day she met the question direct. "well, rosie, when will you go to tyre and do our buyin'?" "o, not yet. i want to look around a few days first." "all right--you're the captain! only we can't have any company till we get some furniture." true enough! there was the excuse for buying the furniture; even if she were to go to the city she would be home during the summer, and she would want to entertain her friends. the fever seized her thereupon, and she plunged into planning and cataloguing. they had but little to spend, and she was put to her wit's end to passably furnish the house. this filled in the first week or two of her stay, and she suffered less from loneliness than she expected; it came only at intervals, just before going to sleep, or in the morning, as she made her toilet for each new but eventless day. as the home came to look pretty and complete, she thought of asking josie to come on to visit her, and finally wrote her, and when she had promised to come, there was something to look forward to. meanwhile, she found something wrong between herself and her old friends. she meant to be just the same as ever, and at first she seemed to succeed, but she found herself not listening to them, or looking at them with alien eyes. she heard their harsh, loud voices, not their words, and she saw their stiff, ungraceful gestures instead of the fancy-work and worked-over dresses which they showed her. they looked at each other with significant nods. other young people had gone away to school without acquiring airs, why should she? it was not her education in books, but in manners, which made her alien. she was educated above them, too. her thoughts were higher than theirs, and she did not attempt to play the hypocrite. she was not interested in them; for the most part they bored her. in a few cases the misunderstanding grew to be anger and distrust. carl drove over once with his bride-elect, and they all sat stiffly in the front room for one distressing hour; then they left, never to come again. sarah counted the visit not all in vain, however, for she quite closely reproduced rose's shirt-waist the following week--that much she got out of the call. carl was awed and troubled a little by the failure of his bride to get on with rose, and rose was bitter over it in heart. she could not see the fun of all this, as so many story-writers had done. it was all pitiful and bitter and barren, and to eat with the knife and drink coffee with a loud, sipping sound were inexcusable misdemeanors to her overwrought temper. josie came in like a little oriole. she fluffed down off the train like a bunch of lilac bloom one july day. "o, what a funny little town," she said, after kissing rose how-de-do. "are we to ride in this carriage? o, i'm _so_ disappointed!" "why so?" "o, i wanted to ride on a hay-cart or dray or whatever it is. mr. dutcher, i'm so glad to see you." she sprang upon john and kissed him, "like a swaller lightin' on me," he said afterward. it astonished him but gratified him. "do you live far out in the country--the real country?" she asked. "well, you'd think so if you had to haul corn over it in the spring," he replied. "i'd like to haul corn over it," she replied. "may i?" "you can do anything you want to," john said. josie got at the picturesque qualities of the people. they all interested her and amused her like the cattle without horns, and the guinea-hens which clacked like clocks, and the tadpoles in the marsh. she had no personal relations--no responsibilities toward them such as rose felt were inescapably hers. josie had no responsibilities at all, none under heaven! she laughed at the ill-made dresses, and winked over the heads of the old wives when they talked in dialect, and made fun of the boys who came courting her, and sang "where did they get those hats?" after coming out of the church. rose laughed and yet suffered, as one might whose blood relatives were ridiculed. it was a new experience to john dutcher to have one about who cried out at everything as if it were the seventh wonder. the summer visitor had never before penetrated to his farm and all the women he had ever known could talk about cattle and drainage and wool-washing almost like men. in his interest and desire to do the part of entertainer, he pushed on into subjects which the girl listened to with wonder-wide eyes and a flushed face. he talked to her as he would with rose, about "farrer cows" and other commonplaces of stock-raising to which rose would have listened abstractedly or with a slight feeling of disgust. to josie it was deeply fascinating, and just a little bit like reading a forbidden book. it affected her a little unwholesomely, just as it would have made ed, the hand, spasmodically guffaw to stand before the venus de milo--use and custom do much. she sometimes asked questions which she would not have dared to ask her uncle, for john dutcher was beyond sex; indeed, he had always been a man of pure heart and plain speech. he was even in youth perfectly free from any sensuality, and now in his later middle life sex was a fact like the color of a horse or a squash, and all that pertained to it he talked of, on the same plane. it did not occur to him that he was going beyond the lines of propriety in explaining to this delicate little woman various vital facts of stock-raising. josie sometimes went back to rose smilingly, and told her what had taken place. "why didn't you ask me--you little goose? i never thought you didn't know those things. we farm girls know all that when we are toddlers. we can't help it." all this should have been tonic, thoroughly wholesome to the dainty over-bred girl, and so it ultimately became, though it disturbed her at the time. the two girls went out into the meadows and upon the hills almost daily. they sought wild strawberries in the sunny spots amid the hazel brush. they buried themselves in the hay in the field and climbed on the huge loads with john and rode to the barn. they drank water out of the spring lying flat on the ground; rose showed how it was done. they went up on the hillsides under the edges of great ledges of water-washed sandstone where rose had made her playhouse in her childhood, and she drew forth from the crevices in the rocks the queer little worn pieces of rock which she had called horses and cows and soldiers. rose had not been so girlish since her first vacation from school in madison. she romped and laughed with the ever-joyous josie, and together they grew brown and strong. but there came into the lusty splendid joy of these days hours of almost sombre silence and dreaming. it all ended in nothing, this attempt at amusement. here in the riant and overflowing opulence of july, time without love's companionship was time wasted. of what avail these soft winds, the song of birds, the gleam and lift and shimmer of leaves, if love were not there to share it? josie frankly confessed the name of the one she wished to share it with, but rose looked into the sky and remained silent. her soul was still seeking, restless, avid, yet evermore discerning, evermore difficult to satisfy. they fell into long talks on marriage, and rose confided to her some of her deepest thoughts, though she felt each time that this little twittering sparrow was hardly capable of understanding her. "i want to know the men who think the great thoughts of the world," she said once as they lay under the beeches on the hillside, far above the haying field. "i don't want to marry--i only want to know men who can lift me up by their great plans. i want to forget myself in work of some kind--i don't know what kind--any kind that will make me big and grand in my life. i can't stand these little petty things here in this valley; these women drive me crazy with their talk of butter and eggs and made-over bonnets." "i think they're funny," said josie. "they talk so loud and they get so interested in such queer things." rose fell silent again. she knew josie was of this type, only her affairs happened to be of a different sort, not larger, only different, pettinesses of dress and teas. "o, for a nice man!" sighed josie. "why didn't you tell me there weren't any nice men up here?" meanwhile the lack of men was not apparent. hardly a day but some young fellow from tyre or the siding made bold to hitch his horses to the fence before dutcher's place. rose was annoyed and gave most of them scant courtesy. josie, however, always saw them and managed to have great amusement out of their embarrassment. like summer girls in general she thought any man better than no man at all. rose, however, could not endure a love-glance from any of them. she found her household duties pressing when they called, and josie entertained them, and afterward entertained her by mimicking their looks and tones. it was very funny to see josie screw her little face into shapes to represent her suitors' bashful grins and side-glances. they were not always bashful, it must be said. sometimes they were distressingly bold, and they came to the point of offensive warfare with a readiness and assurance which scared josie. she had never seen anything like it. rose found josie entertaining in any mood. chapter xiv again the question of home-leaving but the day came at last when josie must say good-bye, and then rose's essential loneliness swept back upon her in a bitter flood. that night she walked her room in her naked feet, with her handkerchief stifling her sobs, so that john might not hear. she fought it out there (she supposed) and ended at last by determining to sacrifice herself to her father. he could not be deserted, he needed her so, now that he was growing old and a little weaker. she must put away her vague, ambitious dreams of success, and apply herself to making him happy. and yet to what end was all her study, she thought, during these later years? could it be applied to doing him good? her indifferent talent as a musician seemed the only talent which gave him joy. he cared nothing--knew nothing, of the things she loved and thought about! was her life, like his, to come down to the raising of cattle and the breeding of sheep? was not his office served in educating her? should not the old be sacrificed to the young? all these devilish questions came into her mind like flashes of lurid light, but they all paled and faded before this one unchangeable radiance; he was her father, tender, loving, simple, laborious and old. she fell asleep after hours of writhing agony, worn out, yet triumphant--she imagined. but she was not. day followed day, each one seemingly more hopeless than the other. this consideration beat like a knell into her brain, love could never come to her. marriage with these young men was no longer possible. love was out there, somewhere in the great world, in the city among artists and music-lovers, and men of great thought and great deeds. her powerful physical, mental and emotional womanhood rebelled at this thought of lovelessness; like the prisoner of old bound in a sunless cavern where the drip-drop of icy water fell upon his brain, she writhed and seemed like to go mad. this was the age of cities. the world's thought went on in the great cities. the life in these valleys was mere stagnant water, the great stream of life swept by far out and down there, where men and women met in millions. to live here was to be a cow, a tad-pole! grass grew here, yes--but she could not live on grass. the birds sang here, yes--but there were patti, and duse, and bernhardt out there in the world. here you could arise at five o'clock to cook breakfast and wash dishes, and get dinner, and sweep and mend, and get supper, and so on, till you rotted, like a post stuck in the mud. your soul would rot. she felt change going on all the time. she was slipping back into shiftlessness, into minute untidiness--into actual slovenliness. there was no stimulus in these surroundings, she told herself; everything was against her higher self. once she had read a sentence from lowell which flamed upon her mind now each time she mused upon her lot. "the wilderness is all right for a vacation, but all wrong for a life-time." she considered the coulé a wilderness. it had nothing for her but nature, and nature palls upon a girl of twenty, with red blood in her veins, and splendid dreams in her heart. out there was her ideal. "out there is the man who is to fill out my life," she uttered to herself softly, so that only her inner ear heard. so she argued, fought, wept, surrendered, and went to battle again. while all about her, john and his sister, moved tranquilly to their daily duties, calm as the cattle in the meadows. to the discerning eye it was a wonderful sight to see that dark, gloomy, restless girl seated opposite those serene, almost stolid faces, to whom "the world" was a breeze blowing in the tree-tops. she had the bearing of a rebellious royal captive--a duchess in exile. mrs. diehl and the hired man were the peasants who waited upon her, but ate with her--and her father was the secure free-holder, to whom kings were obscure, world-distant diseases. then the equinoctial storms came on, and days of dull, cold, unremitting rain confined her to the house. the birds fell silent, the landscape, blurred with gray mist, looked grim and threatening, and there was prophecy of winter in the air. the season seemed to have rushed into darkness, cold and decay, in one enormous bound. the hills no longer lifted buoyant crests to heaven; they grew cheerless and dank as prison walls. one night rose spoke. she had always been chary of caresses; even when a child she sat erect upon her father's knee, with a sober little face, and when she grew sleepy she seldom put hands to his neck, but merely laid her head on his breast and went to sleep. john understood her in all this, for was he not of the same feeling? love that babbled spent itself, his had no expression. his heart was big with pride and affection when his splendid girl came over and put her arms about his neck, and put her forehead down on his shoulder. "o pappa john, you're so good to me--i'm ashamed--i don't deserve this new house!" "o yes y' do, daughter." his voice when he said "daughter" always made her cry, it was deep and tender like the music of water. it stood for him in the place of "dear" and "darling," and he very, very seldom spoke it. all this made it harder for her to go on. "no, i don't, father--o, father, i can't stay here--i can't bear to stay here now!" "why not, rosie?" "o because it's so lonesome for me. there is nobody for me to talk to" (she had to use phrases he could understand) "and i want to go on with my studies." john considered a moment. "but, rosie, seems to me you've got enough; you're graduated." rose saw the hopelessness of making him understand that, so she went back. "it's so lonesome for me here, pappa john!" he considered again. "i 'spose it is. well, you can go to the siding every day if you want to. hitch up old doll every day--" "i don't care for the siding; it's just as lonesome there for me. i want to go to chicago." john grew rigid. "chicago! what you want to do there?" "i want to study, pappa. i want to go on with my work. i'll come home summers just the same. i'll come home christmas if you want me to. it won't cost much, i'll live just as cheap as i can----" "'tain't that, 'tain't that, rose," he said. then he lifted his head and looked around. she read his thought and the tears came to her eyes in blinding rush. "i know, pappa. it's terrible to go now, when you've built this nice home for me, but what can i do? it's so lonesome here! i thought maybe i'd get used to it, but it gets worse. i can't stay here this winter. you _must_ let me go. i'll go crazy if i stay here all winter. i must go out into the world. i want to be an artist. i want to see great people. i can't stay here, pappa john!" the terrible earnestness of every sentence stabbed john dutcher's heart like a poniard thrust. he put her away and rose stiffly. "well, well, rosie, if you want to go----" he did not finish, but turned tremblingly and walked out. she remained on the floor near his chair and watched him go, her soul sick with wretchedness. why was the world so ordered? why must she torture that beautiful, simple soul? why was it that all her high thoughts, her dreams, her ambitions, her longings, seemed to carry her farther away from him? she could have beaten her head against the wall in her suffering. she rose at last and crawled slowly to her room, and abandoned herself to black, rayless hopelessness. john dutcher went out to the hedgerow and sat down on a stool. around him bees were humming in the wet clover. the calves thrust their inquiring noses through the fence and called to him. the rain-clouds were breaking up, and the sun was striking under the flying canopy at the west. it was the bitterest moment of his life, since his wife's death. his eyes were opened to his fate; he saw what he had done; he had educated his daughter out of his world. never again would she be content in the coolly beside him. he saw how foolish he had been all these years, to suppose he could educate and keep her. for a moment he flamed with resentment and said to himself: "i wish she had never seen a book." then he grew tender. he saw her again in her little blue apron with its pockets full of wheat--he saw her blowing hair, her sunny face; he heard again the wind-tossed chatter of her cunning lips. he ran swiftly over her development--how tall she grew and how splendid she was now, the handsomest girl in the coolly, and he softened. she was right. who was there of the young farmers or even in tyre good enough for her? so he rose to a conception which had never come to him before, and even now it was formlessly vast; he felt the power of the outside world, and reached to a divination of the fatality of it all. it had to be, for it was a part of progress. he was old and bent and dull. she was young, gloriously young. the old must give way to the young, while she was the one to be bowed down to. she was queen and he was subject. with these conceptions in his mind he went back and looked for her. he called her softly, but she did not hear, she was sobbing deep into her pillow. he came up the stairs and saw her lying face downward on her bed. his heart rose in his throat, because it was a terrible thing to see his imperious girl weep. "rosie, old pappa john surrenders. you're right and he's an old dummy." she turned her face upon him. "no, you're right. we won't be separated." "but we ain't going to be." he came over and sat down on the edge of the bed. "you'll come home summers, and maybe i'll go to chicago winters." her face flashed into a smile. she flung her arms about him again. "o will you, pappa john?" "course i will. wait till you see me in a spike-tail coat and a boiled shirt. i'll astonish the city dudes." rose laughed a little wildly, and tightened her clasp about his neck. "you're my dear old pappa john." she went at once to her desk and wrote a letter to mary compton, an old schoolmate who had gone to chicago and whose guidance to bed and board now seemed valuable. that night john dutcher did not go to sleep at once, as he usually did on entering his room. he went to his bureau--the old bureau he had bought for his wife thirty years before. in it he kept his pictures. there were several tin-types of rose, in awkward, scared poses, and there too was the last picture of his wife which had been taken with rose as a babe in her arms. dutcher sat for a long time looking at it, and the tears ran down his face unheeded, pitiful to see. when he got up at last he moved stiffly as if he had suddenly grown ten years older, and in his sleep his sister heard him groan and talk. in the morning he said he had a touch of rheumatism, but it would most probably pass off as the sun came out. chapter xv chicago almost o'clock, and the train due in chicago at : ! the city grew more formidable to rose as she approached it. she wondered how it would first appear on the plain. there was little sign of it yet. as she looked out of the car window she saw men stacking grain, and plowing. it was supper time at home, and john was just rising from the table. the calves were bleating for their pails of milk; the guinea-hens were clacking, and the little turkeys crying in the grass, the bees were homing, heavy with honey, and here she sat, rushing toward that appalling and unimaginable presence--chicago. somewhere just ahead it sat, this mighty hive of a million and a half of people. the thought of it made her heart beat quick, and her throat filled. she was going there; the lake was there; art was there, and music and the drama--and love! always under each emotion, always behind every success, was the understanding that love was to be the woman's reward and recompense. it was not articulate nor feverish, this thought; it was a deep, pure emotion, streaming always toward the unknown. she dreamed as the train rumbled on. she would succeed, she _must_ succeed. she gripped the seat-rail with her broad, strong hands, and braced herself like one entering a flood. it was this wonderful thing again, a fresh, young and powerful soul rushing to a great city, a shining atom of steel obeying the magnet, a clear rivulet from the hills hurrying to the sea. on every train at that same hour, from every direction, others, like her, were entering on the same search to the same end. "see that cloud?" some one said; "that's chicago." rose looked--far to the south-east a gigantic smoke-cloud soared above the low horizon line, in shape like an eagle, whose hovering wings extended from south to east, trailing mysterious shadows upon the earth. the sun lighted its mighty crest with crimson light, and its gloom and glow became each moment more sharply contrasted. towards this portentous presence the train rushed, uttering an occasional shrill neigh, like a stallion's defiance. the brazen bell upon the engine began to clang and clang; small towns of scattered wooden houses came into view and were left behind. huge, misshapen buildings appeared in flat spaces, amid hundreds of cars. webs of railway tracks spread out dangerously in acres of marvelous intricacy, amid which men moved, sooty, grimy, sullen and sickly. terrors thickened. smells assaulted her sensitive nostrils, incomprehensible and horrible odors. everywhere men delved in dirt and murk, and all unloveliness. streets began to stretch away on either side, interminable, squalid, filled with scowling, squaw-like women and elfish children. the darkness grew, making the tangle and tumult a deadly struggle. was this the city of her dreams? this the magnificent, the home of education and art. the engine's bell seemed to call back "_good cheer! good cheer!_" the buildings grew mightier but not less gloomy; the freight cars grew fewer, and the coaches more numerous. it was an illimitable jungle filled with unrecognizable forms, over which night was falling. the man with a hoop of clinking checks came through. he was a handsome, clean and manly fellow, and his calm, kindly voice helped rose to choke down her dread. "baggage checked!--baggage--baggage checked to any part of the city--baggage!" in him she saw the native denizen to whom all these horrors were commonplace sensations, and it helped her. it couldn't be so bad as it looked to her. "chicago, _she-caw-go_!" called the brakeman, and her heart for a moment stood still, and a smothering sensation came upon her. she was at the gate of the city, and life with all its terrors and triumphs seemed just before her. at that moment the most beautiful thing in the world was the smooth pasture by the spring, where the sheep were feeding in the fading light, and if she could, she would have turned back, but she was afloat, and retreat was impossible. she pressed on with the rest, wondering what she could do if mary did not meet her. mary had hardly been more than an acquaintance at school, but now she seemed a staff to lean upon. rose looked to her as a guide to a refuge, a hiding-place from all these terrors. out under the prodigious arching roof she stepped, into the tumult of clanging bells, of screeching, hissing steam and of grinding wheels. the shouts of men echoed here and there in the vaulted roof, mysteriously as in a cavern. up the long walk, streams of people moved, each one laden, like herself, with a valise. electric lamps sputtered overhead. she hurried on, with sensitive ears tortured by the appalling tumult, her eyes wide and apprehensive. her friend was not to be seen, and she moved on mechanically with the rest, keeping step beside an old man who seemed to be familiar with the station, and who kept off (without knowing it), the attentions of two human vultures, in wait for such as rose. they moved up the steps into the waitingroom before rose gave up hope of her friend. so far she had gone securely, but could she find the house which was to be her home, alone? she sat down for an instant on the long seat by the wall, and listened to the obscure thunder of the street outside. it was terrifying, confusing. shrill screams and hoarse shouts rose above a hissing, scraping sound, the clang of gongs and the click of shoe-heels. every voice was pitched to an unnatural key, like that of men in a mill. the noise seemed hot, some way, like smitten iron and brass. no sound was familiar to her, nothing cool and reposeful. her head throbbed and her tongue was dry. she had eaten little since early morning and she felt weak. she looked far more composed and self-reliant than she was, and when her friend came swinging up to her she cried out: "o, mary!" and her friend realized a little of her relief and gratitude. "o, here you are! i got delayed--forgive me. i'm all out o' breath." (here she kissed her.) "how well you look! your complexion is magnificent. give me your valise. we'll send for your trunk. save twenty-five cents by having it done up town. this way--i'm glad to see you. how is wisconsin?" mary compton was tall, red-haired and strong. her eyes were keen and laughing, and the tip of her chip hat and the swing of her skirts let everybody know how able she was to take care of herself--thank you! she had been the smart girl of a small town near madison, and had come to the city, as her brother dan had gone to idaho, for the adventure of it. it was quite like hunting bears. "shall we take the grip?" rose didn't know what she meant, but she said: "just as you like." "i like to take the grip; it gives a fellow a little fresh air, if there is any at all." a train of cable-cars came nosing along like vicious boars, with snouts close to the ground. mary helped rose upon the open forward car, which had seats facing outward. a young man lifted his hat and made room for them. "hello, john!" said mary, "aren't you a little early tonight? rose, my friend mr. hardy. mr. hardy, miss dutcher." the young fellow raised his hat again and bowed. he was a pleasant-faced young man in round straw hat and short coat. mary paid no further attention to him. "i've got you a room right next to mine," she said to rose, who was holding to the seat with one hand and clinging to her hat with the other. the car stopped and started with vicious suddenness. "you'd better hang on; the gripman is mad tonight," mary explained. "we're most to our street, anyway." to rose it was all a wild ride. the noise, the leaping motion of the cars and the perilous passage of drays made it as pleasant to her as a ride behind a running team on a corduroy road. they came at last to quieter spaces, and alighted finally at a cross street. "i'm pretty far up," said mary, "but i want it decently quiet where i live. i have noise enough at the office." rose thought it indecently noisy. peddlers were crying out strange sing-song cries; children romped, screaming in high-pitched furious voices; laundry wagons and vegetable wagons clattered about. there was a curious pungent odor in the air. on the steps of the houses groups of young people, like mary and john, sat on strips of carpet, and laughed and commented on the passers-by. mary turned upon one fool who called a smart word at her: "left your manners in squashville, didn't you, little man?" they came at last to an imposing block of houses, situated at the corner. they entered the door and climbed a gas-lit stairway, which went round and round a sort of square well. they came at last to a door which closed all passage, and mary got out her key and opened it. "here we are!" she said cheerily. the main hall was carpeted and ran past several doors, which were open. in one room a young man in his shirt sleeves was shaving before a glass. in another a girl was reading. "hello!" called mary. "hello!" said the girl, without looking up. "here's my room, and this's yours." mary pushed open a door at the end of the hall. it was a small room, papered in light buff and blue. it had an oak dresser and mirror, a couple of chairs and a mantel bed. it looked cheerful and clean, but very small. mary put down her valise. "i guess you'll find everything all right, water and towels. wash up right off--dinner'll be ready soon." rose removed her hat and sat down, her head throbbing with the heat and noise. she heard the man at the glass whistling, and mary was thumping about in her vigorous way. the dash of cold water cleared her brain, but did not remove her headache. her face was still flushed and her eyes expanded. mary coming back, looked at her a moment and then rushed upon her and hugged her. "o what a beauty you are! i wish i had half what you've got." rose smiled faintly; she didn't care just that moment whether she looked well or ill. "the boys will all be dead in love with you before dinner is over. let me tell you about them." she softened her reed-like voice down and glanced at the transom furtively: "never forget the transom when you're talking secrets," she explained. "first, there's mr. taylor; he's from colorado somewhere. he's a lawyer. he's a fine fellow too--you'll like him. then there's mr. simons; he's a jew, but he's not _too much_ of a jew. there's alice fletcher; she's queer and grumpy, but she reads a lot and she can talk when she wants to, and there's you and myself." "i don't feel like meeting them tonight," rose said; "if i had a cup of tea i'd stay in my room." "all right! i'll bring it." the bell rang and then the movement of feet and the banging of doors told of the rush to dinner. mary came back with a cup of tea and a biscuit and some pudding. "have more, if you wish," she said. "this will do nicely. you're very kind, mary compton. i don't deserve it." "you deserve the world," cried the adoring girl. "if i had your figure and complexion i'd make the universe wait on me." in spite of all this fervor of praise rose felt herself to be a very dejected and spiritless beauty. she was irritated and angry with the nagging of strange sights and sounds and smells. the air seemed laden with disease and filth. it was all so far from the coolly with its purple hills looming against the sapphire sunset sky. but this she came for--to see the city; to plunge into its life. she roused herself therefore with a blush of shame at her weakness. she had appeared to be a child before this girl who had always been her inferior at school. it was a very dignified young woman who arose to greet mrs. wilcox, the landlady, whom mary brought back. this dignity was not needed. mrs. wilcox was a sweet-voiced, smiling woman of fifty--being of those toilers who smile when they are tired enough to drop. she was flushed with fatigue and moved languidly, but her kind, patient, pathetic smile touched rose almost to tears. "i'm glad to have you come here," the landlady said. "we're all nice people here, aren't we, miss compton?" her eyes twinkled with humorous self-analysis. "every one of us," corroborated mary. "i hope you'll rest well. if there's anything we can do for you, my dear, let me know." such was the spirit in which the over-worked woman served her boarders. they all called her "mother." she had no children of her own, and her husband was "not at all well," yet nothing could sour her sweet kindliness, which included all the world. she was a familiar type, and rose loved her at once. miss fletcher came in and was introduced. she was a teacher in a school near by. "what anybody should come to this town for i can't understand. i stay here because i'm obliged to. i'm just back from the country to my work." "the country is all right for a vacation," quoted rose. mary broke in, "that's what i say. i lived on a farm and i lived in castle rock. when i lived on the farm i wanted to get to castle rock. when i got to castle rock i wanted to get to madison. madison made me hone for chicago, and when i had a chance to come, i just dropped my work at the university and put for the city, and here i am and glad of it." "i can't understand such folly," murmured miss fletcher. "you could if you'd stayed on the farm the year round, with nobody to talk to and mighty little to read. it's all right for you to go up for a couple of months and lie about in a hammock, but you take a place like castle rock all the year round! it's worse than the farm. gossip! they talk every rag of news to smithereens, don't they, rose?" rose nodded. "and then the people! they're the cullin's. all the bright boys and girls go to madison and chicago or dakota, and then the rest marry and intermarry, and have idiot boys and freckle-faced girls!" they all laughed. mary was always extreme, no matter what her subject. miss fletcher sighed resignedly. "well, it's fate. here this big city sits and swallows you bright people like a great dragon, and the old folks are left alone in these dull places you talk about." rose felt her eyes filling with tears. the figure of her lonely old father came before her. she saw him sitting beside the kitchen table, his head on his palm, and all the new house empty and dark. mary jumped up. "here now, stop that talk, we must leave rose alone and let her go to sleep." they left her alone, but sleep was impossible. the tramp of feet, the sound of pianos, the slam of doors, the singing, laughing of the other boarders made sleep impossible. the cars jangled by, the click-clack of horses' hoofs and the swift rattle of wagons kept up long after the house was silent. between midnight and four o'clock she got a little sleep, out of which she awoke while a booming, clattering wagon thundered by. other wagons clattered viciously along up the alleys, and then some early riser below began to sing, and rose wearily dressed and sat down by the window to listen. far to the south a low, intermittent, yet ever deepening, crescendo bass note began to sound. it was chicago waking from the three hours' doze, which is its only sleep. it grew to a raucous, hot roar; and then to the north she heard the clear musical cry of a fruit vendor,--then another: "_black-berries! fine fresh black-berries!_" the cars thickened, the sun grew hot and lay in squares of blinding light across her carpet. that curious pungent smell came in with the wind. newsboys cried their morning papers. children fought and played in the street. distant whistles began to sound, and her first morning in chicago came to rose, hot, brazen, unnatural, and found her blinded, bruised, discouraged, abased, homesick. chapter xvi her first conquest she was still sitting by the window wondering what to do next, when mary tapped at her door. "may i come in?" she looked fresh and strong, and her cheery smile made her seem beautiful to rose. "how did you sleep?" rose shook her head. mary laughed. "i can tell by the looks of you. look's if you'd been pulled through a knot-hole, as they say up in molasses gap. heard everything that took place, didn't you? i did too. you'll get over that. i sleep like a top now." "what is that smell? pah!" shuddered rose. mary elevated her freckled nose. "what smell? o, you mean that rotten, piney, turpentiney smell--that's the chicago smell. it comes from the pavin' blocks, i guess. i never inquired. i'll ask mr. reed, he knows everything mean about chicago. well, you hadn't better go to breakfast looking like that. i want you to paralyze that boston snipe. i'll bring in your breakfast." rose accepted this service passively; nothing else was to be done in mary compton's presence. she had the energy of a steam threshing machine, and affection to correspond. rose wondered again what she could do next. she was here to study art and literature--there was the library! she would read. and there were lectures perhaps; what she was to do would come to her after awhile. mary returned a little hot of color, bringing a tray. "that boston clothes-pin says you're a myth or a country gawk. you must lay him out cold as a handspike. i've been bragging about you and they were all on tip-toe to see you this morning. you sail in on 'em at dinner the way you used to do at our chapter-house spreads. weren't they great! there now, i've got to vamoose. i'm not a lady of leisure. i'm a typewriter on trial and looks won't carry _me_ through. i've got to rustle and walk chalk, as they say in molasses gap. so good-bye. take it easy today. if you want to walk, go over to the lake front," and she banged out of the door and faced the city in her daily encounter. rose ate her breakfast and felt much better. her trunk came and she got out her dresses and hung them up and made other preparations for staying, although it seemed impossible she should ever sleep another night in this terrible city. she got out her portfolio and wrote a letter home and one also to dr. thatcher. then she looked over the little bunch of letters of introduction she had. one was to doctor isabel herrick, one to professor h. bevan fowler at evanston, and one was to orrin thatcher; that was the doctor's cousin, a young lawyer in the woman's building, whatever that was. with these and ten dollars a week she faced chicago. the contest was unequal. she felt this more keenly as she stood on the lake front a little later on in the day. she went there as the new hampshire girl goes to the sea. this body of water, majestic in its immense shoreless spread, is wonderful to the young girl from iowa or interior wisconsin. a fresh, keen east wind had arisen, pure and exhilarating, and the smooth expanse of glittering green-and-blue water stretched out under a vivid blue sky, in which great clouds floated like snow mountains, trailing great shadows like robes of state upon the lake. the curving lake-wall was wet and glistening with the up-flung spray. the slender elms were fronded at the top like palms, and the vivid green grass set opposite the pink-gray wall, and the brilliant many-colored lake in magnificent, harmonious contrast. the girl felt her soul grow larger as she faced this scene, so strange, so oriental, and she looked and looked, until it became a part of her. it was all so remote and so splendid. there the great violet-shadowed sails of ships stood, as she had seen them in pictures of the sea. there a gleaming steamer ran, trailing great banners of smoke. there glittered the white bodies and slant wings of gulls, dipping, upshooting and whirling. to her eyes this was infinity, and the purple mist in which the ships drave was ultimate mystery. at last she turned to look behind her. there on the left stood rows of immense houses, barred and grated like jails or fortresses; palaces where lived the mighty ones of chicago commerce. before their doors carriages stood, with attendants in livery, such as she had read about and had never seen. up and down the curving ribbon of lavender sand other carriages were driving, with jingle of silver chains and soft roll of wheels. the horses flung foam from their bits; they were magnificent horses (she knew horses as well as any coachman), and their brass-trimmed harnesses glittered in the sun like burnished gold. there was no noise here beyond the tread of these stately horses, the babble of a few soft-voiced children on the grass and the crackling, infrequent splash of the leaping breakers. it was a wide contrast to the chicago of her first glimpses the day before. that side of the city terrified her, this oppressed and awed her. the social splendor of this life appealed to her perception as it would not to any man. her quick imagination peopled these mansions with beautiful women and lordly men, and she felt herself rightful claimant of a place among them. she turned and faced them with set teeth and a singular look in her half-closed eyes, and in her heart she said: "before i die i'll go where i please in this city. i'll be counted as good as any of you--poor as i am." to the onlooker--to mrs. oliver frost, she was a girl in a picturesque attitude; to the coachmen on the carriages she was a possible nurse-girl; to the policeman she was a speck on the lake-front lawn. * * * * * something of this mood was with her still when she went in to dinner with mary. mary ushered the way, beaming with joy. rose never looked more beautiful nor more imperious. the boston man was properly astonished; the jew salesman smiled till his chubby face seemed not able to contain his gladness. mr. taylor, a gaunt young man, alone seemed unmoved; the morose teacher gave a sigh of sad envy. rose said little during the meal. she cordially hated mr. reed at once. his boston accent annoyed her, and his brutal sarcasm upon the west aroused a new anger in her. she had never listened to such talk before. it didn't seem possible anybody could disparage the west. "civilization stops," he said during the meal, "after you leave the hudson riveh." "some folks' manners stop after they leave the hudson river, if they ever had any," mary replied, and the jew cackled joyously. he defended chicago. "it is the greatest place to do business in the world. i'm a new yorker by birth, but chicago suits me. i like its hustle." "that's the point. it thinks of nothing but hustle," said the boston man. "i was speaking of higher things. it lacks the art atmosphere of boston and cambridge." "it has all the atmosphere i need," said the jew. to rose all this was new. it had not occurred to her to differentiate the cities sharply from one another. chicago, to her, was a great city, a splendid example of enterprise, and it was to be her city, the pride of the west. to the country mind a city is a great city when it acquires a million people. like the young jew, rose had not missed any atmosphere. the tall young man voiced her opinion when he said: "this finicky criticism don't count. you might just as well talk about the lack of gondolas and old palaces in boston. conditions here are unexampled. it's a new town and i think a splendid place to live. of course you can find fault anywhere." rose looked at him with interest. such precision and unhesitancy of speech she had not heard since leaving college. mary glowed with gratified admiration. the jew was delighted, although he did not quite follow the implied rebuke. miss fletcher merely said: "if mr. reed don't like chicago he is privileged to go back to boston. i don't think chicago would experience any shock if he did." mr. reed wilted a little, but he was not crushed. "the trouble with you people is you don't know anything about any other city. you come in here from oshkosh and kalamazoo, and okookono--" "hit him on the back!" called mary, "he's choking." "o-con-o-mo-woc," calmly interpreted miss fletcher. reed recovered--"and a lot more outlandish places--" "how about squantum and skowhegan and passamaquoddy," laughed mary. reed collapsed--"o well, those are old, familiar--" the others shouted with laughter. "o yes! everything old and new england goes. you are too provincial, old boy. you want to broaden out. i've seen a lot of fellows like you come here, snapping and snarling at chicago, and end up by being wild promoters." the jew was at the bat, and the table applauded every hit. rose did not share in the talk--she had so little knowledge of cities--but it served to make mr. taylor a strong figure in her eyes. he was tall and big-boned and unsmiling. he studied her with absent-minded interest, and she felt no irritation or embarrassment, for his eyes were clean and thoughtful. he looked at her as if she called up memories of some one he had loved in another world, and she somehow grew a little sad under his gaze. as they sat in her room after dinner, mary asked: "how do you like our crowd?" "i can't tell yet. i don't like that boston man. i never could bear the sound of 'ah'." "he's a chump; but they ain't all like that. i have met two or three decent boston fellows down in the office. don't think they are all muffs." "of course not." "now take my 'boss' for example. he's fine. he's big enough so you don't mind his airs, but what do you think of mr. taylor?" rose looked thoughtful, and mary hastened to say. "ain't he fine?" she hoped to forestall criticism. "yes, i think he's fine. he makes me think of professor jenks." "a-hugh! so he does me. say rose, i'm going to tell you something, don't you ever tell, will you?" "why no--of course not." "hope to die?" "hope to die, hands crossed." "well!" "well?" "i came here to board because _he_ was here." "why, mary compton!" "ain't it awful? of course, no one knows it but you. i'd just die if he knew it. i used to be afraid that he'd find out, but he can't, because you see, he never saw me till i came here, and he thinks it is just accident. he's so simple about such things anyway, and he's always dreaming of something away off. o he's wonderful! he's been all over the mountains. he adores john muir--you know that man professor ellis told us about? well, he's lived just that way weeks and weeks in the wildest mountains, and it's just glorious to hear him tell about it." rose was astonished at mary, generally so self-contained. she talked as if she had volumes to tell and but short minutes to tell them in. her cheeks glowed and her eyes grew deep and dark. "he's here reading law, but he don't need to work. he's got a share in a big mine out there somewhere, which he discovered himself. he just thought he'd try civilization awhile, he said, and so he came to chicago. he kind o' pokes around the law school (it's in our building--that's where i saw him first, in the elevator), just as an excuse. he hates the law; he told me so. he comes in to see me sometimes. of course i leave the door open." she smiled. "but it don't make any difference to him. he's just the same here as he is anywhere--i mean he knows how to treat a woman. the school-ma'am said she thought it was terrible to have a man come into your room--the same room you sleep in--but i told her it depended on the man. that settled her, for owen--i mean mr. taylor--don't like her." rose listened in silence to this torrent of words from mary. her mind was naturally fictive, and she divined the immense world suggested by the girl's incoherent sentences. the mysterious had come to her friend--the "one man of all the world," apparently--a striking personality, quite suited to mary, with her practical ways and love of fun. it confirmed her in her conviction that a girl must adventure into the city to win a place and a husband. she rose and put her arms about her friend's neck: "i'm so glad, mary." "o goodness! don't congratulate me. he's never said a word--and maybe he won't. i can't understand him--anyway it's great fun." a slow step crossed the hall, and a rap at the door nearly took away mary's breath; for a moment she could not reply, then mr. taylor's voice was heard. "i beg your pardon." he was turning away when mary sprang up and opened the door. "o mr. taylor, is it you?" "yes--i didn't know but you and your friend would like to go out somewhere?" "would you, rose?" "not tonight, thank you. but you go. don't keep in on my account." mary struggled a moment, then she smiled with tender archness. "very well, thank you, mr. taylor. i'll be ready soon." after he had gone she said: "perhaps he'll propose!" rose glowed sympathetically. "i hope he will." * * * * * the next day rose went down town alone. the wind had veered to the south, the dust blew, and the whole terrifying panorama of life in the streets seemed some way blurred together, and forms of men and animals were like figures in tapestry. the grind and clang and clatter and hiss and howl of the traffic was all about her. she came upon the river just as the bridge was being opened. down toward the lake, which had to her all the wonder and expanse of the sea, boats lay thickly, steamers from deep water, long, narrow and black. excursion boats, gleaming white, and trimmed with shining brass, lay beside the wharves, and low-lying tugs, sturdy, rowdyish little things, passed by, floating like ducks and pulling like bull-dogs, guiding great two-masted sailing boats and long, low, grimy steamers, with high decks at the ends. the river ran below, gray-green, covered with floating refuse. mountainous buildings stood on either side of the waterway. the draw, as it began to move, made a noise precisely like an old fashioned threshing machine--a rising howl, which went to her heart like a familiar voice. her eyes for a moment released hold upon the scene before her, and took a slant far over the town to the coulé farm, and the days when the threshing machine howled and rattled in the yard came back, and she was rushing to get dinner ready for the crew. when the bridge returned to its place she walked slowly across, studying each vista. to the west, other bridges, swarming with people, arched the stream--on each side was equal mystery. these wonderful great boats and their grim brave sailors she had read about, but had never seen. they came from far up the great tumultuous lake, and they were going to anchor somewhere in that wild tangle of masts and chimneys and towering big buildings to the west. they looked as if they might go to the ends of the earth. at the stern of an outgoing boat four sailors were pulling at a rope, the leader singing a wild, thrilling song in time to the action. so it was--the wonderful and the terrifying appealed to her mind first. in all the city she saw the huge and the fierce. she perceived only contrasts. she saw the ragged newsboy and the towering policeman. she saw the rag-pickers, the street vermin, with a shudder of pity and horror, and she saw also the gorgeous show windows of the great stores. she saw the beautiful new gowns and hats, and she saw also the curious dress of swart italian girls scavenging with baskets on their arms. their faces were old and grimy, their voices sounded like the chattered colloquies of monkeys in the circus. it all seemed a battlefield. there was no hint of repose or home in it all. people were just staying here like herself, trying to get work, trying to make a living, trying to make a name. they had left their homes as she had, and though she conceived of them as having a foot-hold she could not imagine them having reached security. the home-life of the city had not revealed itself to her. she made her way about the first few blocks below water street, looking for dr. herrick's address. it was ten o'clock, and the streets were in a frenzy of exchange. the sidewalks were brooks, the streets rivers of life which curled into doors and swirled around mountainous buildings. it was almost pathetic to see how helpless she seemed in the midst of these alien sounds. it took away from her the calm, almost scornful, self-reliance which characterized her in familiar surroundings. her senses were as acute as a hare's and sluiced in upon her a bewildering flood of sights and sounds. she did not appear childish, but she seemed slow and stupid, which of course she was not. she thought and thought till she grew sick with thought. she struggled to digest all that came to her, but it was like trampling sand; she apparently gained nothing by her toil. the streets led away into thunderous tunnels, beyond which some other strange hell of sound and stir imaginatively lay. the brutal voices of drivers of cabs and drays assaulted her. the clang of gongs drew her attention, now here, now there, and her anxiety to understand each sound and to appear calm added to her confusion. she heard crashes and yells that were of murder and sudden death. it was the crash of a falling bundle of sheet iron, but she knew not that. she looked around thinking to see some savage battle scene. she saw women with painted faces and bleached hair whom she took to be those mysterious and appalling women who sell themselves to men. they were in fact simple-minded shop girls or vulgar little housewives with sad lack of taste. every street she crossed, she studied, looking both up and down it, in the effort to see some end of its mystery. they all vanished in lurid, desolate distance, save toward the lake. out there she knew, the water lay serene and blue. this walk was to her like entrance into war. it thrilled and engaged her at every turn. she was in the center of human life. to win here was to win all she cared to have. it was a relief to pass into the rotunda of the splendid building in which dr. herrick's office was. outside the war sounded, and around her men hastened. she entered the elevator as one in a dream. the man hustled her through the door without ceremony and clanged the door as if it were a prison gate. they soared to the ninth floor like a balloon suddenly liberated, and the attendant fairly pushed her out. "here's your floor--herrick, to the left." rose was humiliated and indignant, but submitted. the hallway along which she moved was marble and specklessly clean. on each side doors of glass with letters in black told of the occupations of the tenants. she came at length to the half-open door of dr. herrick's office and timidly entered. a young girl came forward courteously. "would you like to see the doctor?" she asked in a soft voice. "yes, please. i have a letter to her from dr. thatcher of madison." "o! well, i will take it right in. be seated, please." this seemed good treatment, and the soft voice of the girl was very grateful after the hoarse war-cries of the street. rose looked around the little room with growing composure and delight. it was such a dainty little waiting room, and argued something attractive in dr. herrick. "come right in," the girl said on returning. "the doctor is attending to her mail, but she will see you for a few moments." rose entered the second and larger room, and faced a small graceful woman, of keen, alert gaze. she appeared to be about thirty-five years of age. she shook hands briskly, but not warmly. her hand was small and firm and her tone quick and decisive. "how-d'-you-do! sit down! i had a note from dr. thatcher the other day saying i might expect you." rose took a chair while the doctor studied her, sitting meanwhile with small graceful head leaning on one palm, her elbow on the corner of her desk. no woman's eyes ever searched rose like those of this little woman, and she rebelled against it inwardly, as dr. herrick curtly asked: "well, now, what can i do for you? dr. thatcher thought i could do something for you." rose was too dazed to reply. this small, resolute, brusque woman was a world's wonder to her. she looked down and stammered. "i don't know--i--thought maybe you could help me to find out what i could do." the doctor studied her for an instant longer. she saw a large, apparently inexperienced girl, a little sullen and a little embarrassed--probably stupid. "don't you know what you want to do?" "no--that is, i want to write," confessed rose. "write! my dear girl, every addlepate wants to write. have you friends in the city?" "one; a classmate." "man?" "no, a girl." "why did you leave home?" rose began to grow angry. "because i couldn't live the life of a cow or a cabbage. i wanted to see the city." the doctor arose. "come here a moment." rose obeyed and stood beside her at the window, and they looked out across a stretch of roofs, heaped and humped into mountainous masses, blurred and blent and made appalling by smoke and plumes of steam. a scene as desolate as a burnt-out volcano--a jumble of hot bricks, jagged eave-spouts, gas-vomiting chimneys, spiked railings, glass skylights and lofty spires, a hideous and horrible stretch of stone and mortar, cracked and seamed into streets. it had no limits and it palpitated under the hot september sun, boundless and savage. at the bottom of the crevasses men and women speckled the pavement like minute larvæ. "is _that_ what you came here to see?" asked the doctor. rose drew a deep breath and faced her. "yes, and i'm not afraid of it. it's mighty! it is grander than i expected it to be--grand and terrible, but it's where things are done." isabel herrick studied her a little closer. "you'd leave your country home for this?" rose turned upon her and towered above her. her eyes flashed and her abundant eye-brows drew down in a dark scowl. "would you be content to spend your life, day and night, summer and winter, in dutcher's coolly?" "pardon me," said dr. herrick cuttingly, "the problem is not the same. i have not the same----i----the question----" "yes, _you_ who are born in the city and who come up to see us on the farms for a couple of weeks in june--_you_ take it on yourselves to advise us to stay there! _you_ who succeed are always ready to discourage us when we come to try _our_ fortunes. i can succeed just as well as you, and i'll make you bow your head to me before five years are gone." rose was magnificent, masterful. she was flaming hot with wrath. this little woman had gone too far. dr. herrick turned abruptly. "i guess i've made a mistake; sit down again," she said, in softer tones. rose was not yet done. she kept her lofty pose. "yes, you certainly have. i am not afraid of this city; i can take care of myself. i wouldn't be under obligations to you now for the world. i want you to know i'm not a beggar asking a dollar from you; i'm not a school-girl, either. i know what i can do and you don't. i wouldn't have troubled you, only for dr. thatcher." she moved toward the door, gloriously angry, too angry to say good-day. the doctor's cold little face lighted up. she smiled the most radiant smile, and it made her look all at once like a girl. "my dear--i am crushed. i am an ant at your feet. come here now, you great splendid creature, and let me hug you this minute." rose kept on to the door, where she turned: "i don't think i ought to trouble you further," she said coldly. the doctor advanced. "come now, i beg your pardon. i'm knocked out. i took you for one of those romantic country girls, who come to the city--helpless as babes. come back." rose came near going on. if she had, it would have lost her a good friend. she felt that and so, when the doctor put an arm around her to lead her back to the desk, she yielded, but she was still palpitating with the heat of her wrath. "my dear, you fairly scared me. i never was so taken by surprise in my life; tell me all about yourself; tell me how you came to come, where you are--and all about it." rose told her--not all, of course--she told her of her college work, of her father, of the coulé, of her parting from her father. "o yes," the doctor interrupted, "that's the way we go on--we new men and women. the ways of our fathers are not ours; it's tragedy either way you put it. go on!" at last she had the story, told with marvelous unconscious power, direct, personal, full of appeal. she looked at rose with reflective eyes for a little space. "well, now we'll take time to consider. meanwhile bring me something of yours; i'll show it to a friend of mine, an editor here, and if it pleases him we'll know what to do. meanwhile, come and see me, and i'll introduce you to some nice people. chicago is full of nice people if you only come at them. come and see me tomorrow, can't you? o you great, splendid creature! i wish i had your inches." she glowed with admiration. "come sunday at six and dine with me," yielding to a sudden impulse. "come early and let me talk to you." rose promised and then went out into the waiting room. "etta, dear, this is miss dutcher; this is my sister. i want you to know each other." the little girl tip-toed up and took rose's hand with a little inarticulate murmur. there was a patient waiting, but dr. herrick ignored her and conducted rose to the door. "good-bye, dear, i'm glad you came. you've given me a good shaking up. remember, six, sharp!" she looked after rose with a wonderful glow in her heart. "the girl is a genius--a jewel in the rough," she thought. "she must be guided. heavens! how she towered." when she stepped into the street rose felt taller and stronger, and the street was less appalling. she raised her eyes to the faces of the men she met. her eyes had begun their new search. the men streamed by in hundreds; impressive in mass, but comparatively uninteresting singly. it was a sad comment upon her changing conceptions of life that she did not look at the poorly dressed men, the workmen. she put them aside as out of the question; not consciously, for the search at this stage was still unconscious, involuntary, like that of a bird seeking a mate, moved by a law which knows neither individuals nor time. she saw also the splendor of the shop windows. she had a distinct love for beautiful fabrics as works of art, but she cared less for dress than one would suppose to see her pass lingeringly before great luminous cataracts of drapery. she was quietly dressed, and gracefully dressed, beyond this she had never cared to go, but she constructed wonderful homes and owners out of the glimpses of these windows, and from the passing of graceful young girls, clothed like duchesses, and painted (some of them) like women of the under world. it all grew oppressive and disheartening to her at last, and she boarded a state street car (the only car she knew) and took her way up home. all the people in the car looked at her as if she had intruded into a private drawing room. she was evidently from the country, for, though it was in the day of quaintness, she wore her hair plain. it was also the middle period of the curious and inexplicable little swagger which all duly-informed girls assumed, but rose walked on her strong elastic feet with a powerful swing which was worth going miles to see. it was due to her unconscious imitation of the proud carriage of william de lisle. she loved that forward swing of the thigh, with the flex of the side which accompanied it. it was her ideal of motion, that free action of knee, waist and neck, which she felt rather than saw in the great athlete. she made a goodly figure to look at, and it was no especial wonder that the people in the car faced her. her forehead was prominent and her eyes were sombre. it was impossible for the casual observer to define why she made so marked an impression upon him. it was because she was so fresh and strong, and unaffected and unconscious. pure men did not smile at her as they might at a pretty girl. they looked at her with wide, quiet eyes, and she knew they meant to be perfectly respectful. there was one man looking at her like that when she looked up to pay the conductor. there was a deep sorrowful look in his eyes, and his face, too, was sad. she did not understand his mood, but was moved by it. when she looked at him again he dropped his eyes to his paper. he was a large man of thirty or more, and had a rugged, serious face. she remembered it long afterwards. at lunch she found no one but mr. taylor. he loomed up at the further end of the table, his gaunt, grave face and broad shoulders towering up like a farmer's. she studied him closely, now that she knew more about him. he had a big, wide, plain face, with gentle gray eyes. his beard was trimmed round and made him look older than he was. he was a man into whose eyes women could look unafraid and unabashed. he greeted rose with a smile. "i'm very glad you've come. i was afraid i should eat lunch alone. with your permission i'll move down to your end of the table." rose was very glad to have him take a seat near, and they were friends at once. they naturally fell upon mary as a topic. mr. taylor spoke of her quietly: "mary's a fine girl," he said. "i don't like to see her work. i don't like to see any woman do work like that. i don't claim any right to say what women shall do or not do, but i imagine they wouldn't go into shops if they were not, in a way, forced into it." rose defended the right of a girl to earn her own living. he hastened to explain further: "of course a woman should be free and independent, but is she free when pressure forces her into typewriting or working in a sweat-shop?" rose turned his thoughts at last by asking about the west. he expanded like flame at the thought. "ah! the old equatorial wind is blowing today, and my hair crackles with electricity." he smiled as he ran his hands through his hair. "on such days i long for my pony again. sometimes, when i can't stand it any longer, i take a train to some little station and go out and lie flat down on the grass on my back, so that i can't see anything but sky; then i can almost imagine myself back again where the lone old peaks bulge against the sky. do you know john muir and joaquin miller?" rose shook her head. his eyes glowed with enthusiasm. "there are two men who know the wilderness. your thoreau i've read, but he don't interest me the way these rocky mountain fellows do. your eastern fellows don't really know a wilderness--they're sort o' back pasture explorers. john isn't a bit theatrical, he's been there. he doesn't take a train of guides to explore a glacier, he sticks a crust of bread in his belt along with a tin cup, and goes alone. i've been with john in the sierras, and once he came over into my range." rose defended emerson and thoreau as if she were the easterner this colorado hunter considered her. as she talked he fixed great absent-minded eyes upon her, and absorbed every line of her face, every curve of her lips--every changing wave of color. "i don't care for the wilderness as you do. what is a bird compared to a man, anyway? i like people. i want to be where dramas are being played. men make the world, bears don't." she ended hotly. he slowly withdrew his gaze. "i guess you're right." he smiled a wise smile. "if the wilderness had been everything in the world, i wouldn't be here. a woman is more than a flower. a woman would make my mountains a paradise." "you have no right to ask a woman to go there with you--not to stay," she added quickly. his smile passed. "you're right again. unless i could find a woman who loves the wilderness as i do." "that is out of the question," she replied. "no woman loves the wilderness--as a home. all women love cities and streets and children." she had a young person's readiness to generalize, and pitilessly flung these hopeless truisms at him. he arose, apparently made sadder by them. he sighed. "but civilization carries such terrible suffering with it." rose went to her room and looked at her other letters of introduction. should she present them? what would be the use. the scene with dr. herrick had not been pleasant; true, it had apparently brought her a friend, but it was a rigorous experience, and she hardly felt it worth while at the moment to go through another such scene to win another such friend. she fell to looking over her manuscripts. they were on lined paper, stitched together at the top. they were imitative, of course, and leaned toward the elizabethan drama, and toward tennyson and mrs. browning, so far as verse-form went. there were also essays which she had written at college, which inquired mournfully, who will take the place of the fallen giants, bryant, longfellow, emerson? she had eloquent studies of hugo and valiant defences of dickens. she reflected in her writing (naturally) all the conventional positions in literature. she stood upon the graves of the dead as if she feared they might be desecrated. she was a pupil, and as a pupil she had considered literature as something necessarily afar off, in england or france, in boston and cambridge, though she had come to think chicago might be a place suitable for a humble beginning, but that it might be the subject of literature had not occurred to her. she had never known a person who had written a book. professor ellis and the president had written scientific treatises, but, not being a fool, she knew there was a difference between getting an article into a country weekly and getting into a big daily, to say nothing of the great magazines. she wished for advice. being out in the world now, something must be done with her writings. these essays were good and thoughtful, they represented study and toil, but they did not represent her real self, her real emotions, any more than her reading represented her real liking. her emotions, big, vital, contemporaneous, had no part in this formal and colorless pedantry. of this she was still ignorant, however. she was sorting her poems over and dreaming about them when mary came home. "o, you dear! i've been thinking about you all day. did you see your woman doctor?" "yes." "did you like her?" "well, i don't know--yes, i think i do. i didn't at first." "where else did you go?" "nowhere. i came home to lunch." "eat alone?" mary was taking off her things and was more than usually fragmentary. "no. mr. taylor was there." mary faced her. "now see here, rose dutcher, do you want to break my heart into smithereens? if you do, you go on lunching with owen taylor." rose laughed at her tone of simulated sorrow and dismay. "he moved down to my end of the table, too." mary plumped into a chair and stared. "well, that finishes me. i'm coming home to lunch after this. if you prove a _terrater_, i'll have your back hair, rose dutcher." "i couldn't help it. he didn't want to shout at me across the table." mary's voice softened. "what did you talk about?" "he talked about you." "did he? what did he say?" "he said you were a good girl, and you are." "is that all?" "what more could you ask?" "he might 'ave praised me beauty!" then she laughed and rushed at rose and hugged her for some reason not expressed. "isn't he just grand?" "i'm going out to dinner sunday night!" "where? woman doctor's?" "yes. i met her sister, too." "o, you'll soon be getting so swell you won't notice us. well, anyhow, you'll leave me owen?" * * * * * in the mood in which she went to sleep that night, there was no premonition of conquest. the tide of her life sank low. it was impossible for her to succeed--she, a little country girl, of five feet nine. she looked at her bulk as it showed under the quilts. how small a thing she was to be set over against the mighty city. and yet napoleon was less than she. and patti and edwin booth were not so large. the life of a great actor, like edwin booth, a singer, like patti, interested her deeply. she wondered that they could do things like other people. they were so public, so admired, so lifted into the white-hot glare of success. she brought her mind back to the point. they succeeded, small beings though they were, they faced the millions of the earth and became the masters, the kings and queens of art. by what necromancy did they do this? if it was born in them, then there was hope for her; if they reached it by toil, then, surely, there was hope for her. chapter xvii her first dinner out rose went to see the parts of the city which no true chicagoan ever visits. that is to say, she spent sunday in the park, admiring with pathetic fortitude the sward, the curving drives, and the bridges and the statues, in company with the lowly and nameless multitude--she even crowded in to see the animals. she had intended to get back to church, conformable to mary's programme, which was to start in st. james, and go in rotation to all the great churches and hear the choirs; but it happened that on this first sunday there was a fine west wind, and the three-masters were setting sail to the north close inshore, and when rose found she could sit on the park benches and see those mighty birds sail by she was content to do that and nothing more. she had no cheap, easy and damnable comparisons. the passage of each purple-sailed lumber freighter was a poem to her. they floated noiselessly, effortlessly, on a beautiful sea of color. they drove like butterflies in dreams, their motive power indiscernible. she sat with her chin in her palm, her big eyes, like beautiful windows, letting in the sunshine and the grace of ships and clouds without effort, fixed in an ecstasy of reverie. around her streamed floods of the city's newly acquired residents, clerks, bookkeepers, typewriters, shop-girls, butcher's boys, salesmen, all fresh from the small towns and from the farms of the west. as the ships passed, she gave her attention to these people--recognized in them many familiar types. there was the smart young man, son of the tavernkeeper in cyene. there was the blundering big wag, ed smith of molasses gap (assistant shipping clerk in smith & rydal's hardware store now). there were types like mary, hearty, loud-voiced, cheery, wholesome, whom the city could never rob of their native twang. there were tom and grace and elsa and bert and all the rest of the bright, restless spirits of the country towns and wide-awake school districts come to try their fortunes in the great city like herself. they wore bargains in ready-made clothing pretty generally, but it was up-to-date and they were all clean as a new dime. they laughed, shouted jokes, scuffled and pushed the girls, quite in the good country way. they made quaint and sometimes insolent remarks about the park and its adornments, assuming blasé airs as old residents, and pointing out to the later arrivals the various attractions. there came by other groups, as alien as the foregoing were familiar. dark-skinned, queer, bow-legged, bewhiskered little men, followed by their wives and children, all sallow and crooked. they were all foreigners. great droves, whole neighborhoods drifted along, chattering unintelligible languages, incomprehensible to the country girl as the chinese. whether they were italians or jews or bohemians she could not tell, but she could see the marks of hunger and hard work on their pallid faces. these were, no doubt, the people who moved about under the murk of that deadly region through which she had been borne by her train that first night. she went home from this first visit to the park oppressed and over-borne with the multitude of her new impressions. she felt quite as she did upon her return from the art institute, to which she had hastened early in the first week. so much that was artificially beautiful tired her and irritated her, like eating a meal of honey and sponge cake. her head ached with the formal curves of the drives, with the unchanging fixedness of the statues, just as the unnatural murky tones of the landscapes in frames gave her vague discomfort. in the few days between her meeting with isabel and her dinner she saw the wheat exchange (which interested her mightily, like battle), she went again to the art institute, she visited other parks, she went to the top of the masonic temple, and did many other things which the native high-class chicagoan prides himself on never doing. happily she apprehended not the enormity of her offence; on the contrary, she was seeing life, and this feeling compensated her when she did not otherwise enjoy "a sight." it was a duty, and she felt grateful to the unknown city officials for the chance to see these things, even if it nearly broke her neck and tired her out to see them. she looked forward to her dinner with great interest. she had thought a great deal about dr. herrick, and had come to the conclusion that she was not much to blame. "i suppose she thought i was a poor helpless ninny coming to ask her for a job," she said to mary. "well, she couldn't have had much gumption," mary loyally replied. mary came home from a walk with mr. taylor on purpose to help rose "fix up and get off," but found her quite dressed and watching the clock. "well, you are a prompt one! stand up now, and let me see if you're all right." rose obediently stood and was twirled about in various lights. "that's fine! that grey dress is such a fit, and scarlet goes well with it. o, you sweet thing! how're you going to get home?" "walk, of course." "shall i send owen over for you?" they both laughed at her tone. "o, what a self-sacrificing friend!" rose exclaimed. "i guess i can walk home alone. i'm not afraid of the dark." "o, it ain't that. it would be sweller to have some one come after you." "well, you and owen both come." "well, i'll see. if i feel safe by nine-thirty i'll send him. but if you're not back here by ten o'clock i'll be after ye." this made them both laugh again. "where is this address?" rose gave her the card. "why, this is away up in the swell part. my, ain't you comin' on!" mary clucked with her tongue. "you'll be calling on the lake drive soon." rose looked neat and altogether well composed in her simple grey dress and sober-hued bonnet and gloves. she wasn't in the very latest fall fashion, of course, but she was not noticeably out of vogue. she felt quite at ease as she walked up the street. this ease began to desert her as the houses grew larger and the doorplates more ornate. what if dr. herrick lived in one of these houses! they were not, of course, palatial like those houses on the lake front, but they looked too grand for any of her friends to live in them. her fear of getting tangled in social intricacies grew keener as she walked up the steps to a large cream-colored brick building. the mystery of "flats" was to be faced. the entrance was tiled and flecklessly clean. on the right were three bells, one above the other. over the second one she saw dr. herrick's name. she pulled the bell and waited for developments. suddenly a hollow voice, hoarse and breathy, pushed from the wall. "kim roight up." she turned to the inner door which opened mysteriously, and a small boy in buttons motioned her to the elevator. she began to comprehend and felt grateful to the small boy for his considerate gravity. at the landing the door was opened by etta, the pretty little sister. she said "how-do-you-do!" in her soft, timid little voice, and let rose into an exquisite little bedroom off the hall and asked her to lay off her hat. she stood in awe of rose, who seemed very large and stern to her. rose felt a little nervous about what was to come after, but contrived to keep outwardly calm while following her gentle guide out into the hall and forward into a small reception room. isabel arose and greeted her with a smile of delight. "ah! here you are! do you know i began to fear you were mythical--that i'd dreamed you. warren, this is miss dutcher. miss dutcher, mr. mason." a slow, large man stepped forward and looked her in the face with penetrating eyes. he was a little taller than she was and his face had a weary look. he was blond as a norwegian and his voice was very beautiful. "i am very glad you're not a myth," he said, and his face lost its tired look for a moment. "this is my nephew, mr. paul herrick;" a slim young man came up to shake hands. he was plainly a college man, and rose comprehended him at once. isabel's voice changed and a little flush came to her face as she put her hand on the shoulder of a tall, black-bearded man standing quietly in the shadow. "this is dr. sanborn, my husband-who-is-to-be." "if nothing happens." he smiled as he shook hands. "if she doesn't conclude to take me instead," remarked mason. rose had perception enough at command to feel the powerful personalities grouped about her. she sat near dr. sanborn, with whom she was at ease at once, he was so awkward and so kindly. he took off his glasses and polished them carefully as if anxious to see her better. "isabel tells me you gave her a little lecture the other day. i'm glad of it. we city folks need it once in a while. we get to thinking that country folks are necessarily fools and stupids by reason of our farce-comedies and our so-called comic weeklies." "we're not so bad as that," said rose. "of course not; nobody could be so bad as that." isabel sat down near mason. "i tell you, warren, that girl has a future before her." "no doubt. it couldn't well be behind her." "don't be flippant! see that head! but it ain't that--she has power. i feel it, she made me feel it. i want you to see some of her writing and see what can be done for her." mason looked bored. "writes, does she?" "of course she writes. see that head, i say." "i see the head and it's a handsome head. i'll concede that. so is sanborn's, but he can't write a prescription without a printed form." "o well, if you are in the mood to be irreverent!" mason's face lighted up. "there, _you_ can write! anyone who is capable of a touch like that--in the presence of gods, men should be meek. at the same time i would hasten to warn you, the doctor is becoming marvelously interested in this girl with a future. he has faced her; he is actually touching her knee with his forefinger!" isabel laughed. "he always does that when he argues anything. it won't do any harm." "it mightn't do you any harm, but that innocent country girl!" "she can take care of herself. you should have heard her put me down in my chair. i want you to take her in to dinner." "i--madam? etta is my choice, after the hostess, of course. i'm a little shy of these girls who write." "well, you take me in and i'll let paul take rose, but i want her to sit by you. i invited you, of all the men of my vast acquaintance, because i hoped your trained and fictive eye would see and appreciate her." "my trained and fictive eye is regarding her, but maybe she is like an impressionist painting, better seen at a little distance. i confess she is attractive at this focus, but o, if her mind--!" "you need not worry about her mind. she's a genius. well, i guess professor roberts is not coming. suppose we go in!" "aren't we rather formal tonight?" "well, yes, but dr. sanborn had no dinner in the middle of the day so i transferred ours." "i'm glad you did, for i'm hungry too." and so it happened rose found herself seated beside the big blond man whose face seemed so weary and so old. paul sat on her left, and they chatted easily on college affairs. he was from ann arbor, he told her. rose looked with wonder at dr. herrick. she was quite another woman, entirely unprofessional. her face was warm with color, and she wore an exquisite dress, simple as a uniform, yet falling into graceful soft folds about her feet. her brown hair was drawn about her pretty head in wavy masses. her eyes sparkled with the pleasure and pride of being hostess to such company. altogether she looked scarcely older than rose. the table was set with tall candles with colored shades, and the simple little dinner was exquisitely served. at the same time it all seemed artificial and unhomelike to rose. the home which had no cellar and no yard was to her false, transitory and unwholesome no matter how lovely the walls might be. air seemed lacking and the free flow of electricity. it was like staying in a hotel. mason turned to her after a little talk with etta. "and so _you_ have joined the stream of fortune-seekers setting always to the city. do you feel yourself to be a part of a predestinated movement?" "i did not when i started--i do now." "that's right. this is the napoleon of cities. a city of colossal vices and colossal virtues. it is now devouring, one day it will begin to send back its best arterial blood into the nation. my metaphor is a bit questionable but that is due to my two minds concerning this salad--i alternately curse and bow down in wonder before this city. its future is appalling to think of. in it will be the mightiest center of the english speaking race--thank you, i'll not take any more dressing--i envy you young people who come now when the worst of the fight against material greed is nearly over. we who have given twenty years of our lives--i beg your pardon. i don't know why i should moralize for your benefit--i meant to say i hope you have not come to chicago to make your living." "why yes--i hope to--but my father gives me a little to live on till i find something to do." "that's good. then sit down and watch the city. it doesn't matter how humble your living place--sit above the city's tumult. observe it, laugh at it but don't fight it--don't mix in the grind. keep it in your brain, don't let it get into your blood." rose looked at him in wonder, his voice was so quiet and his words so vibrant with meaning. "i never felt so drawn to a woman in my life," isabel said to her betrothed. "i don't pretend to understand it. i just love her this minute." "with due qualifications i can agree with you, my dear. she is very promising indeed." "she has the power that compels. i wish she'd get hold of mason." isabel smiled wisely: "you see mason is really listening to her now, and poor etta is left alone. i wish professor roberts were here. he's such good fun for her. before the evening's out every man in the house will be around that wisconsin girl, and i don't blame 'em a bit." a little later the maid announced professor roberts. "ah! bring him right in, mary!" a cheery voice was heard in the hallway. "don't rise, i'll find a place somewhere. i am delinquent i know; what's this--a roast?" "now don't you pretend to be starving just to please me; this sunday evening dinner was given for me especially," said sanborn. "hungry? of course i'm hungry. i've come all the way from fifty-second street." professor roberts was a middle-aged man, with a chin whisker. he had a small, elegant figure, and his eyes were humorous. everybody took on new life the moment he came in. "the fact is i got bridged," he explained, after being introduced to rose. "all from living on the south side," said paul. "i know--i know! however, _somebody_ must live on the south side, and so i stay to keep up the general average." "how modest and kind of you!" "professor belongs to the university settlement--down near the indiana line," explained paul to rose. "anybody'd think, to hear you north siders talk, that fifty-second street was at the uttermost parts of the earth." "it is." "well, we don't have weekly burglaries on our side." "we no longer sing 'lily dale' and the sankey hymns up here." all this banter was amusing to rose. it opened to her the inner social landmarks of the city. she didn't know before that there was a west side and a north side to the city. professor roberts bubbled over with fun. he was curiously like some of the men rose had known at bluff siding. his chin whiskers, his mirthful eyes, and his hearty laughter were familiar as a dandelion. what could he be professor of, she thought--and asked her neighbor. paul told her. "he's professor of geology and paleontology, and knows, besides, a tremendous lot about bugs and animals. he made a trip up into the yukon country last year. he was gone eighteen months, with no one but a couple of indian guides. he's a big fellow, for all he's so jolly and everyday in his manners." the talk that went on was a revelation to the country girl. the three men addressed themselves to isabel, and every conceivable subject received some sort of mention. roberts joked incessantly, and dr. sanborn held him a good second, while mason said the most enigmatical things in his smooth, melodious bass. his face lost its heavy look under the eyes, and his smile was very attractive--though he never laughed. rose sat with the other young people, absorbed in the touch and go, brilliancy and fun of the talk. it was wonderful to rose that one little woman could sit so masterful and at ease before three such keen conversationalists as these men seemed to her. after dinner they took on a quieter tone. mason asked the privilege of ruminating over his coffee and cigar. "ruminate, yes; but don't make it an excuse for going to sleep," said isabel. "you must wake up at any rate and tell us a story before the evening is over." she got roberts started on his recent trip to see the indian snake dance at walpi, and they listened breathlessly till he rounded up safely half-an-hour later. then dr. sanborn was called upon. "come, doctor, we must have your song!" "his song!" exclaimed roberts. "_one_ song?" asked mason. "one song alone is all he knows, and the only way he acquired that was by damnable iteration. it was a cheerful lay sung by his nurse in the hospital during a spell of brain fever," explained isabel. "is this thing unavoidable?" asked mason in illy concealed apprehension. "thus we earn our dinner," replied roberts. "to what length this love of food will carry a man!" "well, let's have the agony over at once." the doctor lifted his tall frame to the perpendicular as if pulled by a string, and, marching to the piano, waited for etta to play the chords. his face was expressionless, but his eyes laughed. his voice shook the floor with the doleful cadences of a distressing ballad about a man who murdered his wife because she was "untrew," and was afterwards haunted by a "figger in white with pityous eyes and cries." he eventually died of remorse and the ballad ended by warning all men to refrain from hasty judgments upon their wives. "amen! so say we all!" professor roberts heartily agreed. a lively discussion was precipitated by mason, who said "the man must be judged by the facts before him at the time the deed was done, not afterwards. i've no doubt there are wives whose murder would be justifiable homicide." isabel interrupted it at last by saying: "that will do, that is quite enough. you are on the road to vituperation." "miss dutcher, you will sing for us, won't you?" "o, i don't sing." rose turned upon her in terror. "really and truly?" "really and truly." "then you play?" "i have no accomplishments at all. all the music i can make is a whistle and a jewsharp, i assure you." this set roberts off. "ah! _la belle siffleuse!_ we will hear you whistle. dr. sanborn, miss dutcher can whistle." rose shrank back. "o, i can't whistle before company; i learned on the farm, i was alone so much." they fell upon her in entreaties, and at last she half promised. "if you won't look at me--" "turn down the gas!" shouted roberts. they made the room dim. there was a little silence, and then into the room crept a keen little sweet piping sound. it broadened out into a clear fluting and entered upon an old dance tune. as she went on she put more and more go into it, till roberts burst out with a long-drawn nasal cry, "sash-ay all!" and rose broke down into a laugh. everybody shouted "bravo!" roberts exulted. "o, but i'd like to see an old-fashioned country dance again. give us another old-fashioned tune." "i don't know that i do them right," said rose. "i hear the fiddlers playing them." "more! more!" cried roberts. "i like those old things. mason here pretends not to know them, but he's danced them many a time." rose whistled more of the old tunes. "haste to the wedding," "honest john," "polly perkins," and at last reached some fantastic furious tunes, which she had caught from the norwegian fiddlers. then she stopped and they turned up the light. she looked a little ashamed of her performance, and isabel seemed to understand it, so she said: "now that is only fooling, and i'm going to ask miss dutcher to read some of her verses to us. dr. thatcher writes me that she does verses excellently well." this sobered the company at once, as it well might, and rose was in despair. "o no, don't ask me to do that, please." "this is your chance, rise to it," insisted isabel. "if you will i'll sing my song again for you," sanborn said. at last rose gave up resistance. her heart beat so terribly hard she felt smothered, but she recited a blank verse poem. it was an echo of tennyson, of course, not exactly "enoch arden," but reminiscent of it, but the not too critical taste of dr. sanborn and prof. roberts accepted it with applause. mason stole a sly look at isabel, who did not give up. she asked for one more and rose read a second selection, a spasmodic, equally artificial graft, a supposedly deeply emotional lyric, an echo of mrs. browning, with a third line which went plumping to the deeps of passion after a rhyme. it had power in it, and a sort of sincerity in the reading which carried even isabel away--besides that, her magnificent figure was a poem in itself. "what a voice you have!" she said as she seized her by the hands. "you read beautifully--and you write well, too." rose noticed that mr. mason, the large man, said nothing at all. in the midst of the talk the maid approached isabel. "some one has called for miss dutcher." every one shook hands with her cordially; they received her as an equal, that was evident. isabel went in with rose to help her put on her things. "my dear, you've pleased them all and i've just fallen in love with you. i'm going to have you at the woman's club. you must come and see me. come often, won't you?" "i shall be glad to," rose said simply, but her face was flushed and her eyes shining with joy. owen was outside in the hall alone. "didn't mary come too?" "no, she concluded it would look awkward if she came and stood outside the door." they walked along side by side. taylor considered it an affectation to offer a strong young woman his arm, except at critical passages of the street. "did you have a good time?" "o splendid!" she said, the joy of her social success upon her. "it was lovely! i never met such fine people. everything was so full of fun and they were intellectual, too. dr. herrick is wonderful! mr. mason, too." "what mr. mason?" "warren mason, i think they call him." "is that so? warren mason is considered one of the finest newspaper men in the city. all the fellows look up to him." "i'm glad i met him. o, now i see! dr. herrick invited him there to hear me read. i made a failure, i'm afraid." she thought so more and more as the rose color of her little triumph grew gray. she ended by tossing to and fro on her bed, raging to think how foolishly she had acted. the long poem was bad, she saw it now. it was involved and twisted and dull. she saw mason's face darken again, and it seemed now it wore a look of disgust. and the whistling! good heavens, was there no limit to her folly, her childishness? so she writhed and groaned, her hopes all pathetically trampled and dust-covered now. everybody would hear of her idiocy. she had been so determined to do something worth while, and she had read her worst lines, and whistled--whistled like a cow-boy. the houses of the lake shore seemed like impenetrable castles in the deep of her despair, and mason's words about the city grew each moment deeper in meaning. * * * * * after rose left, dr. herrick came back into the room radiant. "there, what do you think of her? am i crazy or not? i claim to have discovered a genius." "my dear, seems to me thatcher has a prior claim." "well, anyhow, she _is_ a genius. don't you think so, warren?" "she can whistle." "o, don't be so enigmatical, it is out of place. she's got power. you can't deny that." "time enough to say what she can do when she finds out what polly-rot she is writing now. the whistling interested me," he added, malevolently. isabel's face darkened a little. "i understand, this is one of your prank nights. but i shall not allow it to affect me. you cannot sneer down that beautiful girl." "i'm not sneering her down. i am merely indicating where she needs help. she is a glorious creature physically and she's keen mentally--morally, no doubt, she's well instructed--after the manner of country girls--but esthetically she's in a sorrowful way. taste is our weak point in america, and in the rural regions--well, there isn't any taste above that for shortcake, dollar chromos and the new york _repository_." "he's started, he's off!" said roberts. "now, i like the girl's verses; they are full of dignity and fervor, it seems to me." "full of fever, you mean. you specialists in nerve diseases and spotted bugs wouldn't know a crass imitation of tennyson if you had it in a glass vial. it's such poor creatures as you who keep these young writers imitating successes. the girl has a fine roll of voice and a splendid curve of bust, and that made the stuff she read, poetry--to impressionable persons." "oh! oh! oh!" chorused the young people. "roberts, you are a sensualist," sanborn interposed gravely. mason imperturbably proceeded. "the girl has power of some sort. i rather suspect it to be dramatic, but that's mimetic and of a low order, anyway. her primary distinction, with me, consists in something quite other than these. the girl has character, and that's saying a good deal about a woman, especially a girl. she has departed widely from the conventional type without losing essential womanliness." "ah, now we are coming at it!" they all exclaimed, as they drew around him, with exaggerated expressions of interest. "the girl is darkly individual, and very attractive because of it; but you make of her a social success, as i can see isabel is planning to do, and get her to wearing low-necked dresses and impoverishing her people, and you'll take all the charm out of her." "i don't believe it!" said isabel. "it hasn't hurt dr. herrick," put in roberts. "i must say i'd like to see the girl in a low-necked dress"--he waved his hand to hold them in check. "now, hold on! i know that sounds bad, but i mean it all right." "oh, no doubt!" they laughed at his embarrassment. mason interposed. "roberts' long stay among the wallapi and tlinkit wigwams has perverted his naturally moral nature." roberts shook his hands in deprecation, but made no further protest. sanborn said: "it's a serious thing to advise a girl like that. what do you intend to do, isabel? is a social success the thing the girl needs?" "it won't do her any harm to meet nice people--of course, she ought not to go out too much if she's going to write." "you amuse me," mason began again, in his measured way. "first because you assume that the girl can go where she pleases--" "she can, too, if she's got the quality we think she has. chicago society isn't the new york four hundred. we're all workers here." "workers and thieves," mason went on; "but if the girl has the quality i think she has, she will map out her own career and follow it irresistibly. the question that interests me is this--how did the girl get here? why didn't she stay on the farm like susan, and sally, and ed and joe? how did she get through college without marrying harry or tommy? these are the vital questions." "i don't know," replied isabel. "i thought of those things, but of course i couldn't ask her on first acquaintance." mason lifted his eye-brows. "ah! you drew the line at love and marriage. most women--" isabel resented this. "i'm not 'most women'--i'm not even a type. don't lecture me, please." "i beg your pardon, isabel; you're quite right." his tone was sincere, and restored peace. "i always except you in any generalization." "this is the most significant thing of all," isabel said finally. "the girl has set us talking of her as if she were a personage, instead of a girl from a wisconsin valley--" "that's true," mason admitted. "she's of the countless unknown hundreds of the brightest minds from the country, streaming into the city side by side with the most vicious and licentious loafers of the towns. it leaves the country dull, but moral. the end is not yet. in the end the dull and moral people survey the ruined walls of the bright and vicious." "and the dull and the moral are prolific," sanborn put in. "precisely, and they can eat and sleep, which gives them long life and vast stomachs." roberts sprang up, "i propose to escape while i can. mason is wound up for all night." there was a little bustle of parting, and eventually sanborn and mason walked off together. "it's no time to go to sleep. come to my room and smoke a pipe," suggested mason. "i'm in a mood to talk if you're in a mood to listen." sanborn was a modest fellow, who admired his friend. "i am always ready to listen to you," he said. "probably that is your amiable weakness," mason dryly responded. chapter xviii mason talks on marriage men are not easily intimate. they confide in each other rather seldom. of love and marriage coarse men speak with sneers and obscene jests. of these deep themes serious men speak in hints, with apologetic smiles, as if they were betraying a weakness, seldom going to any length of statement. they express their meaning in broken sentences--in indirect statements. sanborn had known mason for some years. they were both from the country; mason from a small interior town in illinois, sanborn from indiana. mason was an older man than sanborn, and generally presumed upon it, also upon sanborn's reticence. they rode up the elevator in the berkeley flats in silence, and in silence they removed their coats and filled their pipes, and took seats before the fire. mason was accustomed to say he supported two rooms and an open grate fire, and he regretted it was not cold enough to have the grate lighted for that evening. they sat some minutes in smoke. mason sitting low in his chair, with face in repose, looked old and tired, and sanborn was moved to say: "mason, i'm going to ask you a plump question: why don't you get married? you're getting old." "i've tried to." "what! tried to?" "exactly." "that is incredible!" "it is the fact," replied the older man, placidly. sanborn did not believe it. he knew mason to be somewhat seclusive in his life, but he also knew the high place he held in the eyes of several women. mason went on finally, in his best manner, as sanborn called it. "for ten years i've been trying to marry, and i've been conscientious and thorough in my heart, too." sanborn was violently interested. he drew a long breath of smoke. "what seems to be the matter?" "don't hurry me. for one thing, i suppose i've gone too far in my knowledge of women. i've gone beyond the capability of being bamboozled. i see too much of the ropes and props that do sustain the pasteboard rosetree." "that is flat blasphemy," put in sanborn. "i know more about women than you do, and--" "i don't mean to say that women deceive in a base way--often they are not intentionally deceptive; but hereditarily-transmitted, necessarily defensive wiles lead them to turn their best side toward men. before i was thirty i could still call upon a young woman without observing she received me in a room shadowed to conceal her crows-feet. the pre-arranged position of the chairs and color of the lamp-shade did not trouble me." he seemed to pause over some specific case. "and once i believed a girl wore a patch on her chin to conceal a sore. now i know she does it to locate a dimple. i know perfectly well what any young woman would do if i called upon her tomorrow. she would take a seat so that the softest shadows would fall over her face. if she had good teeth she would smile often. if her teeth were poor she would be grave. if her arms were fair her sleeves would be loose, if they were thin she'd wear ruffles. if she had a fine bosom her dress would be open a little at the neck--" "o look here, mason!" sanborn interrupted, "i can't listen to such calumny without protest." "i don't mean to say that all this would be conscious. as a matter of fact it is innocent and unintentional. a woman does not deliberately say: 'i have a dimple, therefore i will smile.' she inherited the dimples and the smile from a long line of coquettes. women are painfully alike from generation to generation. it's all moonshine and misty sky about their infinite variety." "suppose i grant that--who's to blame? mind you i don't grant it--but suppose i do, for argument." "you are a lover and a fortunate man. you have in isabel a woman of character. mark you! these wiles and seductions on the part of women were forced upon them. i admit that they have been forced to use them in defense for a million years. had they been our physical superiors unquestionably the lying graces would have been ours. at the same time it doesn't help me. i can't trust such past-masters in deceit, albeit they deceive me to my good." "are we not deceptive also? it seems to me the same indictment would hold regarding men." "undoubtedly--but we are not now under indictment. you asked me a question--i am answering it." this silenced sanborn effectually. mason refilled his pipe and then resumed: "again, i can't seem to retain a vital interest in any given case--that is to say, an exclusive interest." "that is a relic of polygamy," sanborn said. "i imagine we all have moments when we feel that old instinct tumbling around in our blood." "i meet a woman today who seems to possess that glamour which the romantic poets and high-falutin novelists tell us the woman of our choice must have. i go home exulting--at last i am to reach the mystic happiness marriage is supposed to bring. but tomorrow i meet her and the glamour is faded. i go again and again, every spark of electric aureole vanishes; we get to be good friends, maybe--nothing more." "perhaps a friendship like that is the best plane for a marriage. isabel and i have never pretended to any school-boy or school-girl sentiment." mason replied in such wise sanborn did not know whether to think him bitterly in earnest or only lightly derisive. "that would overturn all the sentiment and love-lore of a thousand years. it would make every poet from sappho down to swinburne a pretender or a madman. such ideas are supreme treason to all the inspired idiots of poetry. no! glamour we must have." sanborn smiled broadly, but mason did not see him. "so i say, marry young or marry on the impulse, or you'll come at last to my condition, when no head wears an aureole." "i wonder what started you off on this trail, mason?" mason pushed on resolutely: "i have become interested and analytical in the matter. i follow up each case and catalogue it away. this failure due to a distressing giggle; that to an empty skull; this to a bad complexion; that to a too ready sentiment. if i could marry while the glamour lasts! i admit i have met many women whose first appeal filled me with hope; if i might contrive to marry then it might be done once for all. that, of course, is impossible, because no woman, i am forced to admit, would discover any seductive glamour in a taffy-colored blond like me. my glamour comes out upon intimate acquaintance." "perhaps the glamour needed could be developed on closer acquaintance with women who seem plain at first sight." "possibly! but i can't go about developing glamour in strange, plain women. they might not understand my motives." sanborn laughed dismally. "then the case seems to me hopeless." "precisely. the case seems hopeless. after ten years careful study of the matter i have come to the conclusion that i was born to something besides matrimony. cases of glamour get less and less common now, and i foresee the time when the most beautiful creature in the world will possess no glamour." sanborn imaginatively entered into this gloomy mood. "nothing will then remain but death." "exactly! peaceful old age and decay. but there are deeper deeps to this marriage question, as i warn you now on the eve of your venture. i find in myself a growing inability to conceive of one woman in the light of an exclusive ideal, an ideal of more interest than all the world of women. i am troubled by the 'possible woman.'" "i don't quite conceive----" "i mean the woman who might, quite possibly, appeal to me in a more powerful and beautiful way than the one i have. i am not prepared as i approach the point to say i will love and cherish till death. in the unknown deeps of life there are other women, more alluring, more beautiful still. so i must refuse to make a promise which i am not sure i can keep." "isabel and i have agreed to leave that out of our ceremony," said sanborn; "also the clause which demands obedience from her." "i am watching you. if your experiment succeeds, and i can find a woman as fine and sensible and self-reliant--but there again my confounded altruism comes in. i think also of the woman. ought i to break into the orderly progress of her life? i can't afford to throw myself away, i can't afford to place a barrier between me and the 'possible woman,' and, per contra, neither can the woman afford to make a mistake; it bears harder upon women than it does upon men. when the glorious 'possible woman' comes along i want to be free. so the woman might reasonably want to be free when the ideal man comes along." "if you really love, these considerations would not count." mason waved a silencing palm. "that will do. i've heard those wise words before. i am ready to be submerged in such excluding emotions." "mason," said sanborn, "one of two things i must believe: either that you have fallen in love with that superb country girl tonight or you've been giving me a chapter from your new novel." mason looked around with a mystic gleam in his eyes. "well, which is it?" chapter xix rose sits in the blaze of a thousand eyes life quickened for the coulé girl. she accommodated herself to the pace of the daily papers with instant facility. she studied the amusement columns, and read the book reviews, and frequented the beautiful reading room of the newberry library. she went to all the matinees, taking gallery tickets, of course, ever mindful of her slender resources--studying as truly, as intently, as if she were still at college. she had told her father that three hundred dollars would carry her through till june, and she was determined it should do so. she had not begun to think of any work to do beyond her writing. her mind was still in unrest--here life's problem was seemingly more difficult of solution than ever. she took hold upon the city with the power of a fresh mind capable of enormous feeling and digesting. she seemed to be in the world at last, plunged in it, enveloped by it, and she came to delight in the roar and tumult of it all, as if it were the sound of winds and waters; and each day she entered upon a little wider circle of adventure. once the first confusion was past, the movement and faces of the crowds were of endless interest to her. she walked down into the city every day, returning to her little nook in the noisy flat building, as the young eagle to its eerie above the lashing tree-tops. she was sitting above the tumult, as mr. mason had advised her to do. she came soon to know that the west side of state street was tabooed by wealthy shoppers, who bought only on the east side; that wabash avenue was yet more select, and that no one who owned a carriage ever traded in the bargain stores. she did all her shopping there because it was cheaper, but deep in her heart she felt no kinship with the cross, hurrying, pushing, perspiring crowds in the bargain stores. her place was among the graceful, leisurely, beautifully attired groups of people on the east side of state street. she was not troubled at this stage of her development by any idea of being faithful to the people of her own material condition and origin. she had always loved the graces and cleanlinesses of life, and her father, she knew to be a man of innate refinement. the idea of caste, of arbitrary classes of people, had only come to her newly or obscurely through newspapers or novels. she did not like dirty people, nor surly people, nor boorish people. in fact, she did not class people at all; they were individuals with her yet. she was allured by the conditions of life on the lake shore drive because the people lived such quiet, clean and joyous lives apparently, with time to think and be kind. she met few people outside of the little circle at the boarding house, and an occasional visiting friend of miss fletcher or mr. taylor. owen she saw much of, and he pleased her greatly. he was a man she could have married under some circumstances. he had means a plenty; he was an unusual character, clean-souled, almost elemental in his simple sincerity, but she considered him committed to mary, and, besides, mason had become a deterring cause, though she hardly realized that. through all the days which followed that evening at dr. herrick's she saw his face with growing distinctness. it was not a genial face, but it was one to remember, a face of power. the line of the lips, the half-averted chin, marked mason's attitude to be one of disgust or weariness. he was the most powerful man she had ever known, a man of critical insight, and for that reason especially she had sought in her last reading to please him. she had failed, and so she was afraid to see him again. when isabel said to her: "mason is a man you should know. he can do a great deal for you in the city," rose replied in her blunt fashion: "i don't want him to do anything for me." "o yes, you do! he's really a kind-hearted man. he puts on a manner which scares people sometimes, but he's a man of the highest character. he's the greatest thinker i ever met--o i'm not disloyal to dr. sanborn, he's the _best_ man i ever met." there was a story in that tender inflection. "so you must let me send in something to warren, and let him advise you." rose finally consented, but it seemed to her like laying an only child upon the rack. she had come almost to fear, certainly to dread, that strange, imperturbable man. his abiding-place and his office were alike so far removed from any manner of living she had knowledge of. he concealed his own likes and dislikes so effectually that not even isabel (as she confessed) could learn them. a few days after putting her packet of poems into isabel's hands rose received a note from her asking her to come over and see her--that she had an invitation for her. "we are invited, you and dr. sanborn and i, to sit in a box at the symphony concert saturday night, with mr. and mrs. harvey. mrs. harvey is one of my dearest friends, and i've talked about you so much she is eager to see you." rose took the matter very quietly. she was mightily pleased, but she was not accustomed to gushing her thanks; besides, she had recovered her equilibrium. isabel was a little surprised at her coolness, but was keen enough to see that she did not mean to be ungrateful. "i thought perhaps you'd like to advise about dress," she said. "the boxes are very brilliant, but you'll look well in anything. you won't need a bonnet, your hair is so pretty, and that little grey dress will do, with a little change." "you know i'm a farmer's daughter," rose explained; "i can't afford new dresses in order to go to the opera." "i understand, my dear. i have my own limitations in that way. i keep one or two nice gowns and the rest of the time i wear a uniform. i told mrs. harvey you were poor like myself, and that we'd need to be the background for her, and she said she'd trust me." what mrs. harvey had said was this: "my dear isabel, you've got judgment, and if you say the girl's worth knowing i want to know her. and if you say the girl will be presentable i'd like to have her come. the boys are both in new york, anyway, and we've got three unoccupied seats." "now you come over to dinner with me saturday; come at five. i want you to help me dress. doctor will be over, and we'll have a nice time before the carriage comes." rose was much more elated than she cared to show. once as she sat in the gallery of the theatre and looked at the boxes she had shut her teeth in a vow: "i'll sit there where you do, one of these days!" and now it had come in a few weeks instead of years--like a fairy gift. she told mary nothing about her invitation for several days. she dreaded her outcry, which was inescapable. "oh! isn't that fine! how you _do_ get ahead--what will you wear?" "i haven't a bewildering choice," rose said. "i thought i'd wear my grey dress." "oh, this is a wonderful chance for you! can't you afford a new dress?" "no, i'm afraid not. there isn't time now, anyway. i'll keep close to the wall. fortunately i have a new cloak that will do." "well, that grey dress is lovely--when it's on you." rose hated the bother about the dress. "i wish i could wear a dress suit like a man," she said to isabel when they were in the midst of the final stress of it. "so do i, but we can't. there's a law against it, i believe. now i'm going to dress your hair for you. that is, i'm going to superintend it and etta's deft little fingers shall do the work." after dinner, isabel ordered things cleared and said to sanborn: "doctor, you go and smoke while we put on our frills." sanborn acquiesced readily enough. "very well--if you find me gone when you come forth, don't worry. i've gone ahead with my friend yerkes. your carriage will be full anyhow." "all right." she went over and gave him a hug. "you're a good, obedient boy--that's what you are!" he spoke (with his chin over her wrist) addressing rose: "the study of chemicals and nerve tissues has not left us utterly desolate, you perceive." when they were in their dressing room, rose asked what the doctor meant by that speech. isabel laughed and colored a little: "oh, he meant that a study of bones and muscles and diseased bodies had not made us prosaic and--and old. i think it has made me still more in love with healthy human flesh--but never mind that now; we must hurry." rose looked at isabel in silent worship as she stood before her ready for the carriage. her, ordinarily, cold little face glowed with color, and her eyes were full of mirthful gleams like a child's. it seemed impossible that she had written a treatise on "nervous diseases," and was ranked among the best alienists in the city. etta made no secret of her adoration. she fairly bowed down before her sister and before rose also. she was so little and so commonplace before these beings of light. down at the carriage it was too dark to see any one distinctly, but rose liked the cordial, hearty voice of mrs. harvey. mr. harvey's hand was small and firm, mrs. harvey's plump and warm. mr. harvey spoke only once or twice during the ride. as the carriage rumbled and rolled southward at a swift pace, rose kept watch out of the window. the street had not lost a particle of its power over her. as they plunged deeper into the city, and the roll of other carriages thickened around them, the importance of this event grew upon rose. she was bewildered when they alighted, but concealed it by impassivity, as usual. the carriages stood in long rows waiting to unload. others were rolling swiftly away; doors slammed; voices called, "all right!" a mighty stream of people was entering the vast arched entrance, with rustle of garments and low murmur of laughing comment. rose caught the flash of beautiful eyes and the elusive gleam of jewels on every side, as the ladies bowed to their acquaintances. everything was massive, and spacious and enduring. the entrance way was magnificent, and rose followed mr. harvey as if in a dream. they took a mysterious short cut somewhere, and came out into a narrow balcony, which was divided into stalls. through arched openings rose caught glimpses of the mighty hall, immense as a mountain cave, and radiant as a flower. as they moved along, mrs. harvey turned to isabel. "she'll do; don't worry!" at their box mr. harvey paused and said, with a pleasant smile: "here we are." dr. sanborn met them, and there was a bustle getting wraps laid away. "you sit here, my dear," said mrs. harvey. she was a plump, plain, pleasant-voiced person, and put rose at ease at once. she gave rose the outside seat, and before she realized it the coulé girl was seated in plain view of a thousand people, under a soft but penetrating light. she shrank like some nocturnal insect suddenly brought into sunlight. she turned white, and then the blood flamed to her face and neck. she sprang up. "o, mrs. harvey, i can't sit here," she gasped out. "you must!--that is the place for you," said mrs. harvey. "do you suppose an old housewife like me would occupy a front seat with such a beauty in the background? not a bit of it! the public welfare demands that you sit there." she smiled into the scared girl's face with kindly humor. isabel leaned over and said; "sit there; you're magnificent." rose sank back into her seat, and stared straight ahead. she felt as if something hot and withering were blowing on that side of her face which was exposed to the audience. she wished she had not allowed the neck of her dress to be widened an inch. she vowed never again to get into such a trap. mr. harvey talked to her from behind her chair. he was very kindly and thoughtful, and said just enough to let her feel his presence, and not enough to weary her. gradually the beauty and grandeur of the scene robbed her of her absurd self-consciousness. she did not need to be told that this was the heart and brain of chicago. this was the chicago she had dreamed about. a perfumed rustling rose from below her. around her the boxes filled with women in gowns of pink and rose and blue, and faint green. human flowers they were, dewed with diamonds. all about was the movement of orderly, leisurely, happy-toned and dignified men and women. all was health, pleasure, sanity, kindliness. wealth here displayed its wondrous charm, its peace, its poetry. her romantic conception of these people had done them an injustice. she had clothed them with the attributes of the men and women of english society novels and new york imitations of these novels. this mr. harvey did not know, but he helped her to rectify her mistaken estimate of the people around her by saying: "we business men can't get out to the friday rehearsals, but saturday night finds us ready to enjoy an evening of art." he looked very handsome in his dress suit, and his face was very pleasant to see, yet isabel had told her that not only was he a hard-working business man, but a man of wide interests, a great railway director, in fact. "i suppose you know many of the people here," she said at last. "oh, yes," he replied, "i know most of them. chicago is large, but some way we still keep track of people here." as he talked, she got courage to raise her eyes to the roof, soaring far up above, glowing with color. balcony after balcony circled at the back, and rose thought with a little flush that perhaps owen and mary were sitting up in one of those balconies and could see her in the box. the hall was buff and light-blue to her eyes, and the procession of figures over the arch, the immense stage, the ceiling, the lights, all were of great beauty and interest. but the people! the beautiful dresses! the dainty bonnets! the flow of perfumed drapery! the movement of strong, clean, supple limbs!--these were the most glorious sights of all. she had no room for envy in her heart. she was very happy, for she seemed to have reached a share in ultimate magnificence. she longed for gowns and bonnets like these, but there was no bitterness in her longing. she herself was a beautiful picture as she sat there. from her bust, proud and maternal, rose her strong smooth neck, and young, graceful reflective head. if the head had been thrown back she would have seemed arrogant; with that reflective, forward droop, she produced upon the gazer an effect both sweet and sad. in the proud bust was prophecy of matronly beauty, and also of the freshness of youth. mason, seated below among a group of musical critics, looked at her with brooding eyes. at that moment she seemed to be the woman he had long sought. certainly the glamour was around her then. she sat above him and her brown hair and rich coloring stood out from the drapery like a painting. a chill came over him as he thought of the letter he had sent to her that very morning. it was brutal; he could see it now. he might have put the criticism in softer phrases. isabel leaned over and spoke to rose and then rose began searching for him. he was amazed to feel a thrill of excitement as he saw that strong, dark face turned toward him; and when his eyes met her's he started a little, as if a ray of light had fallen suddenly upon him. she colored a little, he thought, and bowed. where did the girl acquire that regal, indifferent inclination of the head? it was like a princess dropping a favor to a faithful subject, but it pleased him. "the girl has imagination!" he said. "she claims her own." then he meditated: "what an absurdity! why should i fix upon that girl, when here, all about me are other women more beautiful, and rich and accomplished, besides. that confounded farmer's girl has a raft of stupid and vulgar relatives, no doubt, and her refinement is a mere appearance." he solaced himself with a general reflection. "furthermore, why should any man select any woman, when they are all dots and dashes in a web of human life, anyhow? their differences are about like the imperceptible differences of a flock of wrens. why not go out and marry the first one that offers, and so end it all?" the mystery of human genius came also to rose as mr. harvey pointed out to her the city's most noted men and women. they were mere dabs of color--sober color, for the most part--upon this flood of humankind. she was to mason, probably, only a neutral spot in the glorious band of color, which swept in a graceful curve back from the footlights. it was wonderful, also, to think that these smiling men were the millionaire directors of vast interests--they seemed without a care in the world. at last the stage chairs were all filled by a crowd of twanging, booming, sawing, squeaking instrumentalists. then the leader, a large man of military erectness, came down to the leader's desk and bowed, amidst thunderous applause. then rapping sharply on his desk he brought orderly silence out of the tumult, and the concert began. the music did not mean much to rose during the first half-hour, for the splendor of the whole spectacle dominated the appeal of the instruments. such music and such audiences were possible only in the largest cities, and that consideration moved her deeply. it seemed too good to be true that she sat here securely, ready to enjoy all that came. it had come to her, too, almost without effort, almost without deserving, she felt. but there came at last a number on the programme which dimmed the splendor of the spectacle. the voice of wagner came to her for the first time, and shook her and thrilled her and lifted her into wonderful regions where the green trees dripped golden moss, and the grasses were jeweled in very truth. wistful young voices rose above the lazy lap of waves, sad with love and burdened with beauty which destroyed. like a deep-purple cloud death came, slowly, resistlessly, closing down on those who sang, clasped in each other's arms. they lay dead at last, and up through the purple cloud their spirits soared like gold and silver flame, woven together, and the harsh thunder of the gray sea died to a sullen boom. * * * * * when she rose to her feet the girl from the coulé staggered, and the brilliant, moving, murmuring house blurred into fluid color like a wheel of roses. the real world was gone, the world of imagined things lay all about her. she felt the power to reach out her hand to take fame and fortune. in that one reeling instant the life of the little coulé, the lonely, gentle old father, and the days of her youth--all her past--were pushed into immeasurable distance. the pulling of weeds in the corn, the driving of cattle to pasture were as the doings of ants in a dirt-heap. a vast pity for herself sprang up in her brain. she wanted to do some gigantic thing which should enrich the human race. she felt the power to do this, too, and there was a wonderful look on her face as she turned to isabel. she seemed to be listening to some inner sound throbbing away into silence, and then her comprehension of things at hand came back to her, and isabel was speaking to her. "here's mr. mason coming to speak to us," interrupted mr. harvey. she turned to watch him as he came along the aisle behind the boxes; her head still throbbed with the dying pulsations of the music. everybody seemed to know and greet him with cordial readiness of hand. he came along easily, his handsome blonde face showing little more expression at meeting her than the others, yet when he saw her rapt and flushed face he was touched. "i came to see how miss dutcher was enjoying the evening." rose felt a sudden disgust with her name; it sounded vulgarly of the world of weeds and cattle. in some way she found herself a few moments later walking out through the iron gate into the throng of promenaders back of the seats. it was the most splendid moment of her life. she forgot her fear of mason in the excitement of the moment. she walked with hands clenched tightly and head lifted. the look on her face, and the burning color in her face made scores of people turn to look at her. mason perceived but misinterpreted her excitement. he mistook her entire self-forgetfulness for a sort of vain personal exaltation or rapture of social success. she saw only dimly the mighty pillars, the massive arches, lit by stars of flame. she felt the carpet under her feet only as a grateful thing which hushed the sound of feet. they made one circuit with the promenaders, mason bowing right and left, and talking disjointedly upon indifferent subjects. he felt the tormenting interest of his friends in rose, and drew her out of the crowd. "let us stand here and see them go by," he said. "you liked the music, did you?" his commonplace question fell upon her like the scream of a peacock amid songs of thrushes. it showed her in a flash of reasoning of which he could not know, that it was possible to be ennuied with glorious harmonies. her mind asked, "shall i, too, sometimes wish to talk commonplaces in the midst of such glories?" "o, it was beyond words!" she said. and then mason was silent for a little space. he divined her mood at last, but he had something to say which should be said before she returned to her box. he began at once: "let me say, miss dutcher, that while the main criticism of your work, which i made in my note this morning, must hold, still i feel the phraseology could be much more amiable. the fact is, i was irritated over other matters, and that irritation undesignedly crept into my note to you." "i haven't received it," she said looking directly at him for the first time. "well then, don't read it. i will tell you what i think you ought to do." "o, don't talk of it," she said, and her voice was tense with feeling. "all i have written is tonight trash! i can see that. it was all somebody else's thought. don't let's talk of that now." he looked down at her face, luminous, quivering with excitement--and understood. "i forgot," he said gently, "that this was your first concert at the auditorium. it is beautiful and splendid, even to an habitué like me. i like to come here and forget that work or care exists in the world. i shall enjoy it all the more deeply now by reason of your enthusiasm." in the wide space back of the seats a great throng of young people were promenading to the left, round and round the massive pillars, in leisurely rustling swing, the men mainly in dress suits, the ladies in soft luminous colors; the heavy carpet beneath their feet gave out no sound, and only the throb of laughter, the murmur of speech and the soft whisper of drapery was to be heard. it was all glorious beyond words, to the imaginative girl. it flooded her with color, beauty, youth, poetry, music. every gleaming neck or flashing eye, every lithe man's body, every lover's deferential droop of head, every woman's worshipful upturned glance, came to her with power to arouse and transform. the like of this she had not dreamed of seeing. nobody had told her of this chicago. nobody could tell her of it, indeed, for no one else saw it as she did. when mason spoke again his voice was very low and gentle. he began to comprehend the soul of the girl. "i've no business to advise you. i've come to the conclusion that advice well followed is ruinous. genius seldom takes advice, and nobody else is worth advising. i took advice and went into a newspaper office twenty years ago. i've been trying ever since to rectify my mistake. i would be a literary if i were not forced to be a newspaper man, just when my powers are freshest. i want to write of today. i want to deal with the city and its life, but i am forced to advise people upon the tariff. i come home at night worn out and the work i do then is only a poor starveling. now, see this audience tonight! there are themes for you. see these lovers walking before and behind us. he may be a clerk in a bank; she the banker's daughter. that man harvey, in whose box you sit tonight, was a farmer's boy, and his wife the daughter of a methodist preacher in a cross-roads town. how did they get where they are, rich, influential, kindly, polished in manner? what an epic!" "are you advising me now?" she asked with a smile. her penetration delighted him. "yes, i am saying now in another way the things i wrote. i hope, miss dutcher, you will burn that packet without reading. i would not write it at all now." they were facing each other a little out of the stream of people. she looked into his face with a bright smile, though her eyes were timorous. "do you mean manuscript and all?" his face was kind, but he answered firmly: "yes, burn it all. will you do it?" "if you mean it." "i mean it. you're too strong and young and creative to imitate anybody. burn it, and all like it. start anew tonight." his voice compelled her to a swift resolution. "i will do it." he held out his hand with a sudden gesture, and she took it. his eyes and the clasp of his hand made her shudder and grow cold, with some swift, ominous foreknowledge of distant toil and sorrow and joy. the lights were dimmed mysteriously, and mason said: "they are ready to begin again; we had better return." he led her back to the box, and mrs. harvey flashed a significant look upon him, and said in a theatrical aside: "aha! at last." isabel said: "come and see us tomorrow at six--a 'pow-wow.'" the music which came after could not hold rose's attention. how could it, in the face of the tremendous changes which were in progress in her brain? what had she done? to an almost perfect stranger she had promised to burn all the work of her pen thus far. and an hour before she had almost hated, certainly she had feared, that man. while the music throbbed and wailed and clashed, she sat with blood throbbing in her ears and at her throat, longing to cry out, to sing and to weep. she had said little of late to any one, but she had finally settled upon one ambition--to write, to be a great poetess. after vicissitudes and false enthusiasm she had come back to the first great ambition which she had confessed to thatcher years before, in the little coulé school-house. and now, at the bidding of a stranger, she had made a promise to burn her work and start again. but had not the music and the splendid spectacle before her almost determined her before he had spoken? then she came back to the wondrous gentleness which was in his voice, to the amazing change in his eyes. the man who had held her hand was not the worn, cynical man she had feared. he was younger and handsomer, too. she shuddered again, with some powerful emotion at the thought of his calm, compelling, down-thrusting glance into her eyes. his mind appeared to her to have a shoreless sweep. the music rose to a pounding, blaring climax, and the audience, applauding, began to rise to go home, breaking into streams and pools and whirling masses of color. "well, my dear, how have you enjoyed the evening?" asked mrs. harvey, cordially. "very much, indeed. i never can thank you enough." "it has been a pleasure to feel your enthusiasm. it makes us all young again. i've asked dr. herrick to bring you to see us; i hope you will come." the hearty clasp of her hand moved the motherless girl deeply, and her voice trembled with emotion as she replied: "it will be a great pleasure to me, mrs. harvey." mrs. harvey clutched her in her arms and kissed her. "you splendid girl! i wish you were mine," she said, and thereafter rose felt no fear in her presence. "i don't care whether she's a genius or not," mrs. harvey said to isabel, as they walked out to the carriage. "she's a good girl, and i like her, and i'll help her. you figure out anything i can properly do and i'll do it. i don't know another girl who could have carried off that cheap little dress the way she did. she made it look like a work of art. she's a wonder! think of her coming from a wisconsin farm!" isabel rejoiced. "i knew you'd like her." she leaned over and said in a low voice: "i'd like elbert to see her." mrs. harvey turned a quick eye upon her. "well, if you aren't a matchmaker!" as they came out in the throng it seemed as if everybody knew the harveys and isabel. out in the street the cabs had gathered, like huge beetles, standing in patient rows in the gaslight. the bellowing of numbers, the slam of carriage doors, the grind of wheels, the shouts of drivers, made a pandemonium to rose, but mr. harvey, with the same gentle smile on his face, presented his ticket to the gigantic negro, who roared enormously: "ninety-two! ninety-two!" "here we are!" mr. harvey called finally, and handed the women in with the same unhurried action, and the homeward ride began. there was little chance for talk, though mrs. harvey did talk. rose sat in silence. this had been another great period of growth. she could still feel the heat and turmoil in her brain. it was as if upon a seed-bed of quick-shooting plants a bright, warm light had been turned, resulting in instant, magical activity. at her door they put her down, and once more she thanked them. "it's nothing at all, my dear; we hope to do more for you," said mrs. harvey. "i want you to come to dinner soon. you'll come?" "with pleasure," rose responded, quite as a man might have done. chapter xx rose sets face toward the open road when rose reached her room, she found the packet of poems lying on her desk. it had come in the afternoon mail. she sat down by the toilet table with a burning flush on her face. a world seemed some way to lie between her present self and the writer of those imitative verses. she wished to see, yet feared to see what he had written, and taking up the packet she fingered the string while she meditated. she had not absolutely promised not to read the letter, though she had pledged herself to burn the poems. her life was so suddenly filled with new emotions and impulses, that she was bewildered by them. the music, the audience-room, the splendid assemblage, and some compelling power in mason--all of these (or he alone) had changed her point of view. it was a little thing to the great city, a little thing to him probably, but to her it was like unto the war of life and death. what, indeed, was the use of being an echo of passion, a copy? she had always hated conformity; she hated to dress like other girls; why should she be without individuality in her verse, the very part where, as mason had intimated, she should be most herself? she had the chance to succeed. the people seemed ready to listen to her if she had something to say; and she had something to say--why not say it? she arose, tense and white with resolution, and opened the stove door and dropped the packet in, and closed the door and held it as if she feared the packet might explode in her face, or cry out at her. in her poems she would have had the heroine fling it in the grate and snatch it out again, but having no grate the stove must serve, and there could be no snatching at the packet, no remorseful kisses of the charred body. it was gone in a dull roar. she sat down and waited till the flame died out, and then drew up to her desk and wrote swiftly for an hour. she grew sleepy at last, as the tumult of her brain grew quieter. just before she went to sleep all her lovers came before her: carl, in the strawberry-scented glade; william de lisle, shining of limb, courtesying under the lifting canvas roof; dr. thatcher, as he looked that afternoon in the school-room; then forest darnlee, with the physical beauty of william de lisle, but vain and careless; then professor ellis, seated at his desk in the chalk-laden air, or perched on the ladder beneath the great telescope, a man who lived in abstract regions far from sense and sound; then tom harris, lithe, graceful, always smiling--tom, who had the songs of birds, the smell of flowers, the gleam of sunset-water leagued with him--who almost conquered, but who passed on like a dapple of purple shadow over the lake. and now she faced two others, for she could see that owen was turning to her from mary, and he had great charm. he was one of the cleanest-souled men she had ever known; he had, also, a strange touch of paganism, of mystery, as of free spaces and savage, unstained wildernesses, and he could give her a home, and he would allow her freedom. he would be her subject, not her master. then there was mason--of him what? she did not know. he was outside her knowledge of men. she could neither read his face nor understand his voice. he scared her with a look or a phrase. sometimes he looked old and cynical, but tonight how tenderly and sympathetically he had spoken! how considerately silent he had been! when she awoke, mary was standing looking down at her. "if you're going to have any breakfast, rose, you'd better be stirring. it's nine o'clock, and everything's ready to clear away. what kind of time did you have?" rose resented her question, but forced herself to answer: "beautiful!" "i saw you in the box. owen and i were in the second balcony. you were just scrumptious! i wanted to throw a kiss at you." she fell upon rose and squeezed her, quilt and all, in her long arms. "my stars! i wish i was lovely and a poet." she had nothing but joy over her idol's good fortune, and it made rose feel guilty to think how resentful and secretive she had become. there was coming into her friendship with mary a feeling which prevented further confidence--a feeling that mary was not a suitable confidant, and could not understand the subtleties of her position, in which rose was quite correct. with mary, procedure was always plain sailing. either she was in love and wanted to marry, or she wasn't. her ideals changed comparatively little, and were healthily commonplace. her friendships were quick, warm and stable. she was the country girl in the city, and would be so until death. if she felt disposed, she chewed gum or ate an apple on the street like a boy, and she walked on the lake shore sunday evening with owen, unconscious (and uncaring) of the servant-girls and their lovers seated on every bench. so rose had grown away from her friend. she felt it dimly the first week. she felt it vividly on the morning after the concert, and it troubled her. her life was too subtle, too complicated and too problematic for honest, freckle-faced, broad-cheeked mary to analyze. then, too, there was the question of owen. soon mary must see how he set face toward her, but she felt quite equal to answering him when owen came to speak, because his appeal to her was not in the slightest degree sensuous, as tom harris' had been. she spent the day in deep thought, writing some lines which came to her, and writing a letter home. she filled it full of love and praise for "pappa john," as if in remorse for growing so far away from him. that done she fell back upon her group of friends; upon the concert, upon thought of that wonderful promenade with mason. the world of art seemed so secure and reposeful, so filled with splendor of human endeavor. she drew her breath in a mighty inspiration, and resolved to be a part of it. art had always seemed to her so far off, something european, and now she seemed to be in immediate contact with it, and soared into exultation for a day, falling soon into dreary doubt. her literary ideals were so hopelessly confused. she had lost the desire to write as she had been writing, and there seemed nothing left for her to do. she had so few convictions and so little experience! the door had closed upon her old forms of action, and yet the way mason had pointed out to her was dark and utterly bewildering. she felt great things moving around her; themes, deeds that were enormous but not defined. she could not quite lay hold upon them. she went down the street to dr. herrick's house, feeling that she was committing herself to something. she knew that isabel had taken her case in hand, and that she was to meet other young men there. she could not resent it, for the zeal of her new-found friend was manifestly from the heart--it could not be otherwise. of what advantage to dr. herrick could it be to take her up--a poor country girl? in fact, she was puzzled by this overpowering kindness. there was so little apparent reason for it all. she could not, of course, understand the keen delight of introducing a powerful and fresh young mind to the wonders of the city. she had not grown weary of "sets" and "circles," and of meeting the same commonplace people again and again, as mrs. harvey had. isabel's position was different, but she had an equal delight, more subtle and lasting, in seeing the genius (as she believed) of the girl win its way, and besides, the girl, herself, pleased her mightily. isabel herrick's life was one of deep earnestness and high aims. she was the daughter of a physician in an interior city. she had worked her way up from the bottom in the usual american fashion by plucky efforts constantly directed to one end, and was the head of the house of herrick, which consisted of her young sister, a brother at college and her aged mother, now an invalid. she had been one of the first three girls to enter the medical school, and she had been their shield and fortress in the storm which followed their entrance into the dissecting room. the battle was short but decisive. her little head was lifted and her face white as she said: "men--i won't say gentlemen--i'm here for business, and i'm here to stay. if you're afraid of competition from a woman you'd better get out of the profession." in the dead silence which followed a lank country fellow stepped out and raised his voice. "she's right, and i'm ready to stand by her, and i'll see she's let alone." others shouted: "of course she's right!" by which it appeared the disturbance was of the few and not the mass of students, a fact which isabel inferred. she spoke a grateful word to the lanky student, and dr. sanborn found his wife right there. there was little for isabel to learn of the sordid and vicious side of men. she knew them for what they were, polygamous by instinct, insatiable as animals, and yet she had been treated on the whole with courteous--often too courteous--kindness. her dainty color and her petite figure won over-gallant footway everywhere, though she often said: "gentlemen, i have studied my part. i know what i am doing and i ask only a fair field and no favors." thatcher and sanborn had been her close companions in the stern, hard course they set themselves; each had said with vast resolution to the other: "i'm not to be left behind." and each had sworn to take no mediocre position. thatcher had made apparently the least mark in the world, but he was writing a monograph which was expected to give important facts to the medical profession. he had written to sanborn several times: "you have the advantage of association with the 'little corporal.'" they called her "little corporal" among themselves. her sternly sweet face had a suggestion of napoleon in it, and then she ordered them about so naturally and led them so inevitably in everything she undertook. it was into the hands of the "little corporal" that rose had fallen, and all isabel's enthusiasm was roused in her behalf. her own little sister was a sweet, placid little thing, who had inherited the body, and spirit as well, of her mother, while isabel had inherited the mind of her father in the body of her mother. something of this thatcher had told rose, part of it isabel had told, and it made only one definite impression on rose--this, that a woman could succeed if she set her teeth hard and did not waste time. she found isabel already surrounded by company. she made every other sunday evening an informal "at home," and certain well-known artists and professional people dropped in to talk awhile, or to sit at her generous table. it was a good place to be and rose had perception enough to feel that. "o, you dear child! i'm glad to see you. there's some one here you'll be glad to see." rose flushed a little, thinking of mason. "it's an old friend--dr. thatcher." rose clapped her hands: "o, is he? i'm so glad; it's almost like seeing the folks." "i've asked elbert harvey and mr. mason also; i didn't want you to think i had no friends but doctors. it must seem to you as if the world is made up of doctors. but it isn't." thatcher greeted rose quietly but with a pressure of the hand which made up for his impassivity of countenance. he trembled a little as he sat down and watched her greeting sanborn and mason. fear and admiration were both present in her heart as mason took her hand. she forced herself to look into his face, and started to find his eyes so terribly penetrating. "i burned the packet," she said with a constrained smile. his eyes grew softer and a little humorous. "did you indeed. without opening it?" "yes." "heroic girl!" "am i not?" she said over her shoulder as isabel dragged her toward a tall, smooth-faced young fellow who stood talking with etta. "elbert, this is miss dutcher--rose, young mr. harvey, son of our hostess at the concert." young harvey seemed much taken back as he faced rose, and shook hands in current angular fashion. his mind formulated these opinions: "she's a stunner! caroline was dead right!" by "caroline" he meant his mother. rose placed him at once. he was another college man. paul and etta joined them and they made a fine group. they were soon as free as schoolmates, laughing, telling stories, and fighting over the east and the west. rose stoutly defended the western colleges; they had their place, she said. "so they have," elbert said, "but let them keep it." "their place is at the head, and that's where we'll put them soon," she said. elbert told a story about hazing a western boy at yale. he grew excited and sprang up to dramatize it. he stood on one foot and screwed up his face, while the rest shrieked with laughter, all except rose, who thought it unjust. mason looked on from his low chair with a revealing touch of envious sadness. he had gone past that life--past the land of youth and love--past the islands of mirth and minstrelsy. he was facing a cold, gray sea, with only here and there a grim granite reef gnawing the water into foam. it made him long to be part of that again, therefore he valued rose more at that moment than ever before. "the girl has imagination, she has variety. she is not a simple personality. at the concert she was exalted, rapt, her eyes deep. tonight she is a school-girl. then it was wagner--now it is college horse-play." isabel came up to sit a moment by him. "isn't she fine? i think i surprised young harvey. i thought i'd like to have her meet him--he's such a fine fellow. she should meet someone else beside us old fogies." mason winced a little. "well now, that's pleasant! do you call me an old fogy?" she laughed: "o, we're not old in years, but we're old in experience. the bloom of the grape is lost." "but the grape is ripe, and we still have that. the bloom--what is it? a nest for bacteria." "but it is so beautiful with the bloom on," she said wistfully. "i'd take it again, bacteria and all. see those young people! the meeting of their eyes is great as fame, and the touch--the accidental touch of their hands or shoulders, like a return of lost ships. i am thirty-three years of age and i've missed that somewhere." mason lifted his eye-brows: "do you mean to say that the touch of sanborn's hand does not hasten your blood?" "i do--and yet i love him as much as i shall ever love anybody--now." mason studied her, and then chanted softly: "'another came in the days that were golden, one that was fair, in the days of the olden time, long ago!' you've never told me about that." she smiled. "no, but i will some time--perhaps." she led the way out to supper with dr. thatcher, and the rest followed without quite breaking off conversation, a merry, witty procession. rose was conscious of a readjustment of values. dr. thatcher had less weight in the presence of these people, but mason--mason easily dominated the table without effort. indeed, he was singularly silent, but there was something in the poise of his head, in the glance of his eyes, which showed power and insight into life. the young folks, led by young harvey took possession of the table, and laughter rippled from silence to silence like a mountain stream. young harvey aided at the chafing-dish with the air of an adept, and isabel was almost as light-hearted in laughter as he. thatcher and mason seemed to sit apart from it, and so it was mason found opportunity to say: "you knew our young friend of the coulé--discovered her, in fact?" "yes, as much as any one could discover her. it's a little early to talk of her as if she had achieved fame." "dr. herrick thinks she's on the instant of going up higher, and so we're all hanging to her skirts in hopes of getting a rise." thatcher didn't like mason's tone. "rose is a hard worker. if she rises any higher it will be by the same methods which put her through college." he spoke with a little air of proprietorship. mason felt the rebuff, but he was seeking information about rose, therefore he ignored it. "she's an only child, i believe." "yes; her father is a hard-working, well-to-do farmer in a little 'coolly' in wisconsin." "it's the same old story, i suppose; he doesn't realize that he's lost his daughter to the city of chicago. we gain at his expense." mason's mind had something feminine about it, and he saw as never before how attractive to a girl a fine young fellow like harvey could be. being rich he was lifted above worry. his activity was merely wholesome exercise, and his flesh was clean and velvety as a girl's. he was strong, too, as it was the fashion of college men of his day to be. he had never known want or care in his beautiful life. he was, moreover, a clean boy. money had not spoiled his sterling nature. it was no wonder that rose's eyes grew wide and dark as they rested on him. they were physically a beautiful pair and their union seemed the most inevitable thing in the world. isabel leaned over to say: "aren't they enjoying themselves? i wish mrs. harvey could see them." after they had returned to the sitting room a couple of young artists came in with john coburg, mason's room-mate on the _star_. he was a smooth-faced fellow of extra-solemn visage, relieved by twinkling black eyes. the artists were keen, alert-looking fellows, with nothing to indicate their profession save their pointed beards. one of them being lately from paris turned his moustaches up devilishly; the other had fallen away from his idols sufficiently to wear his moustaches turned down and an extra width to his beard. rose was glad mr. davidson twisted his mustache; there was so little else about him to indicate his high calling. their coming turned the current of talk upon matters of art, which made rose feel perfectly certain she was getting at the heart of chicago artistic life. mr. davidson inveighed against america, and chicago especially, for its "lack of art atmosphere." "if you've got the creative power you can make your own art atmosphere," his companion hotly said. "you always start up on that thing." evidently it was a source of violent argument between them. "the trouble is you fellows who paint, want to make a living too easy," mason remarked. "you ought to stay and do pioneer work among us," said isabel. "i don't consider it worth while so far as i am concerned. i prefer paris." "you're not very patriotic." "there is no patriotism in art." "that's the regular parisian jabber," returned his friend. "i talked all that myself. what you need is a touch of poverty. i'd like to see your people drop you in a small town where you had to make your living for a little while." "all the hard conditions of chicago are changing," isabel interposed, with peaceful intent. "all that was true a few years ago is not true now. the materialism you war against, no longer dominates us. we are giving a little time to art and literature." davidson twisted his mustache point. "it isn't noticeable yet--o, there's a little band of fellows starving here like rats in a garret--but what general recognition of art have you?" "what could you expect?" "well, you might buy pictures." "we do--old masters and salon pictures," said mills, with a relenting acknowledgment of the city's weakness. "that's it exactly!" said davidson. "you've no judgment here. you are obliged to take your judgment from somebody else." so the talk proceeded. to rose it was illuminating and epoch-making. she read in it the city's developing thought. paris and the rocky mountains met here with chicago and the most modern types of men and women. meanwhile mason found opportunity to say to thatcher, who seemed a little ill at ease: "these little informal sunday suppers and free-for-alls are increasing in number, and they are signs of civilization. of course a few of the women still go to church in the morning, but that will wear off, except at new-bonnet time." thatcher did not reply; he thought mason a little flippant. rose sought opportunity to talk about mrs. thatcher and josephine. "they're quite well." "i wish i could see them both." "we should be glad to welcome you back to madison any time. but i hardly expect to see you, except on a vacation, possibly. you're a city dweller already. i can see that." he seemed sadder than she had ever known him, and his look troubled her a little. at ten o'clock she rose to go, and young harvey sprang up: "are you going? if you are i hope you'll give me the pleasure--my carriage--" "thank you very much," she answered quickly. "i've a friend coming for me." thatcher rose as if to go with her, but sat down again with a level line of resolution on his lips. mason and harvey both wondered a little about that friend. mason took a certain delight in young harvey's defeat, and analyzed his pulse to find out why he was delighted. "we should mob that friend," he said to sanborn. "he is an impertinence, at this time." rose felt isabel's arm around her as she entered the cloakroom. "isn't he fine?" "who?" "mr. harvey." "o--yes--so are the artists." rose began to wonder if isabel were not a matchmaker as well as a promoter of genius. isabel had a suspicion of rose's thought and she laughingly said: "don't think i'm so terrible! i do like to bring the right people together. i see so many people wrongly mated, but i don't mean--i only want you to know nice people. you're to do your own choosing," she said with sudden gravity. "no one can choose for you. there are some things i want to talk about when i can venture it." mason and sanborn were the last to go and when isabel returned from the door, where she had speeded the last guest, she dropped into a chair and sighed. "it's splendid good fun, but it does tire me so! talk to me now while i rest." "sanborn, talk!" mason commanded. sanborn drew a chair near isabel and put his arm about her. she leaned her head on his shoulder. mason rose in mock confusion. "i beg your pardon! i should have gone before." isabel smiled. "don't go; we're not disturbed." "i was considering myself." "o, you were!" "such things shock me, but if i may smoke i may be able--" "of course. smoke and tell me what you think of rose. isn't it strange how that girl gets on? she's one of the women born to win her way without effort. it isn't true to say it is physical; that's only part of it--it's temperament." mason got his cigar well alight before he said: "she has the prime virtue--imagination." "is that a woman's prime virtue?" "to me it is. of course there are other domestic and conjugal virtues which are commonly ranked higher, but they are really subordinate. sappho and helen and mary of the scots were not beautiful nor virtuous, as such terms go; they had imagination, and imagination gave them variety, and variety means endless charm. it is decidedly impossible to keep up your interest in a woman who is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow--whose orbit can be predicted, whose radiance is without the shadow of turning." "should he be stopped?" isabel asked of sanborn. "i shouldn't like the job," sanborn replied. "when he strikes that line of soliloquy he's out of my control." * * * * * rose found owen waiting in the hall, and she accepted his escort with the frankness of a sister. "have you waited long?" "no, i was just going to ring the bell when i heard your voice." they walked on in silence. at last he asked: "did you have a good time?" "splendid!" she answered. "we missed you," he said. rose felt something tender in his voice and remained silent. "i heard from my partners today." he went on after a little: "they're feeling mighty good. struck another vein that promises better than the one we have. i ought to go out, but i----" he paused abruptly. "did you ever see the rockies in late fall? o, they're mighty, mighty as the sky! i wish you'd--i wish we could make up a party some time and go out. i'd take a car----" she faced the situation. "i'll tell you what would be nice: when you and mary take your wedding trip i'll go along to take care of you both." owen fairly staggered under the import of that speech, and could find nothing to say for some time. "did you have a good time tonight?" he asked again. "splendid! i always do when i go to isabel's." thereafter they walked in silence. rose fell to thinking of young harvey in the days which followed. there was allurement in his presence quite different from that of any other. she could not remember anything he had said, only he had made her laugh and his eyes were frank and boyish. she felt his grace and the charm that comes from security of position and freedom from care. he brought up to her mind by force of contrast, her father, with his eyes dimmed with harsh winds and dust and glowing sun. he was now spending long, dull days wandering about the house and barn, going to bed early in order to rise with the sun, to begin the same grind of duties the day following. young harvey's life was the opposite from this. he admired her, she felt that as distinctly as if he had spoken to her. he wanted to be near her. he had asked her to help him with the chafing-dish that night, and to pour the beer while he stirred the gluey mass of cheese. all the little things by which a young man expresses his admiration he had used almost artlessly, certainly boyishly. there was nothing there but a vista of pleasures, certain relief from toil and worry. what a marvelous thing to be suddenly relieved from all fear of hunger and every harassing thought about the future! and it was not a question of an old man of wealth, or a man of repulsive appearance; it was a question of taking a bright, handsome, clean-souled man, together with his money. she felt the power to put out her hand and claim him as her own. she liked him, too; he amused her and interested her. she admired his splendid flesh and his clear, laughing eyes. it seemed the easiest thing in the world--to an outsider. she felt that isabel was working hard to have her see young harvey at his best, and she felt, too, that mrs. harvey was taking unusual interest in her, and in her secret heart she knew she could marry into that fine family, but-- liking was not love. she did not shiver when he clasped her hand, as she did when mason greeted her. she feared mason. when he came by, her judgment blurred and her eyes fell. she couldn't tell what his traits were, and she didn't know whether he was a good man or not. she hungered to see him, to hear his voice; beyond that she hardly dared consciously go. his attitude toward her she could not understand. sometimes he seemed anxious to please her, sometimes he seemed equally determined that she should understand how inconsequential she was in his life--and always he dominated her. she did not once think it might be indecision in his mind, after the usual stupidity of love's victims. she thought his changes of manner due in some way to her. she had acted foolishly, or she was looking so badly he was ashamed of her. in this condition of mind, it may be imagined, she did not do much studying or writing. she went to the library regularly, but she could not concentrate her thoughts upon her book. she grew surly and changeable with mary, who no longer dared to talk unguardedly with her. mary's eyes were not glass marbles; she could see things with them, and she said gleefully to owen one night: "she's in love, that's what is the matter with her. i don't mind it. she'll be all right after a while. she's short as pie-crust with me, but i know how it is myself. she's in love with some high-flyer she's met at dr. herrick's house." then she wondered why owen made no reply. chapter xxi mason talks again not seeing mason for some days, sanborn took a walk one night, and turned up about nine o'clock at his rooms. he found him sitting before his open grate fire, smoking meditatively. "hello, sanborn! glad you came over." he did not rise, but sanborn was untroubled by that. "got another chapter turned off?" "possibly. fill up and draw up." sanborn obediently filled a pipe and drew up a chair. "you look tired." "i am. i have written a column editorial on the labor question, one on the chinese treaty, a special article on irrigation for the sunday issue, not counting odd paragraphs on silver, anarchy, and other little chores of my daily grind." "that's not as bad as poulticing people." "bad! there's nothing any worse, and my novelistic friends are always saying, 'why don't you turn in and finish up your novel?' what can an intellectual prostitute do?" "get out of the business, one would suppose." "well, now, that brings me to the point. in the midst of all my other worriments, i am debating whether to marry a rich girl and escape work, or a poor girl and work harder, or to give the whole matter of marriage up forever." "these are actual cases, not hypothetical, this time?" mason turned a slow eye upon him. "i have no need to fly to hypothetical cases," he said, dryly. "in the first place, my hero--if you incline tonight to that theory of the case--my hero is equally interested in two young women. this is contrary to the story books, but then only an occasional novelist tells the truth. i'm to be that one." he seemed to be going off upon some other line of thought, and sanborn hauled him back by asking a pertinent question: "you mean to say both of these young ladies have that glamour?" "o, not at all! they did have, but it has faded in both cases, as in all previous cases, yet more seems to have remained, or else i am getting a little less exacting. in the case of the sculptress--she's the poor girl, of course--she's a genius. the first time i saw her she read a paper on 'the modern in sculpture' (it was good, too). she was dressed beautifully, in cheese-cloth, for all i know--i only know she put to shame her sculptured copies of hope and ariadne. the glamour was around her like rose-colored flame. it was about her still when i stepped up to her. she was tall, and strong as a young lioness. her clean, sweet eyes were level with mine, and she made me ashamed of every mean thing i had uttered in my whole life." "well, well!" exclaimed sanborn. "she was flattered and exalted to think 'the editor' was pleased with her essay, and the rest was easy. i went to call on her a day or two later----" "and the glamour--the glamour?" mason shook his head. "faint! she was in her study, and the hard, cold light was merciless. she was handsome, even then, but her face had a pinched look, and there was a heavy droop to her lips. the color so beautiful that night when flushed with excitement had faded from her cheeks, and gathered in some unfortunate way about her eyes and nose. she was a fine woman, but--the glamour was gone." "what an eye for symptoms! you should have been a physician," sanborn put in. "at the same time she grew upon me. she's an artist. she has the creative hand--no doubt of that. she has dreams, beautiful dreams of art. she glows, and dilates, and sings with the joy of it. she could bring into my life something of the dreams i myself had as a youth. she's going to make a name for herself, without question." "why, that's glorious, warren, old man; she's just the wife for you! and she really inclines toward you?" "she does." then his self-crucifying humor came in. "that's really her most questionable virtue. however, if love can laugh at locksmiths, i suppose he can laugh at a bald head. but this is only one phase of the matter. like all spectators, you are informed of only one side of the banner. let's look at the other. "i manage to live here and support this fire, which is my only extravagance. i keep the establishment going, and a little more. i'll anticipate the usual arguments. suppose, for a little while, it would not increase expenses. it would not do to bring a woman here, it would not be right. when children came--and i should hope for children--they should have a home in the suburbs; i don't believe in raising children in a flat. that would mean an establishment which would take every cent i could hook on to, and it would mean that the whole glittering fabric would be built upon my own personal palm." "but she might earn something--you say she's a genius." "she is, that's the reason she'll never make money. holding the view i do, i could not require her to toil. i do not believe marriage confers any authority on the husband--you understand my position there?" "perfectly--and agree with it, to a limited extent, of course." "going back, therefore--i do not believe i can assume the risk involved. i'm not capable of twenty years' work at my present rate. i'd break down, some fine day, and then my little home, upheld upon my atlas palm, would tumble. no, i can't take the risk. i'm getting too foxy; i haven't the bounce i once had. besides, her career is to be considered. i don't believe i can afford to let her marry me." "that's mighty kind of you," sanborn dryly remarked. "thank you. i think it is an error of judgment on her part. she is younger, and as her adviser i think i must interfere and save her from the power of a vivid imagination and abounding vitality. you see, there are a great many considerations involved." "real love, i must repeat, would not consider." "i wish you wouldn't repeat it, it does you an injustice. the animal passion of youth would not consider. with youth, it is marry--marry, even if within the year you are picked up by the patrol wagon, a vagrant in the streets. the love of my time is not so heedless nor so selfish; it extends to the question of the other party to the transaction." "i suppose that should be so, but as a physician i doubt it. my observations do not run that way. age grows like a child again, thoroughly selfish." "then there is the question of the 'possible woman,'" mason resumed, and his tone was cynically humorous again. "i can't give her up. there she stands in a radiant mist always just before me like the rainbow of our childhood. i can't promise any woman to love her till death. i don't know as it would be safe to promise it even to the woman with glamour. another might come with a subtler glory, and a better fitting glamour, and then--" "what then?" "it would all be up with the first woman," he said with a gravity of tone of which the words gave no hint. "i'm afraid some one has already come to make pale the beauty of the sculptress. what about the other, the rich girl you set over against the sculptress at the beginning? mind you, i believe the whole situation is fictitious, but i'll humor you in it." "well, aurelia--we'll call her aurelia--brings up a far-reaching train of reflections, and, if you've got a patient waiting, you'd better come again." "i'm the only patient waiting." mason ignored the lame old pun and proceeded: "aurelia lives in springfield. you know the kind of home the wealthy politician builds in a western town--combination of jail and court-house. i attended a reception there last winter and saw aurelia for the first time. she was as beautiful as an acrobat--" "i don't want to interrupt, mason, but i notice all your heroines are beautiful." "they must be; my taste will not permit me to tolerate unsymmetrical heroines. i started in as an architect and i've done a little paddling in clay, and my heroines must be harmonious of structure--glamour comes only with beauty, to me." "largely physical, then." "certainly! i believe in the physical, the healthy, wholesome physical. in the splendor of the tiger's wooing is no disease." "well, well, she was beautiful as an acrobat--" mason looked sour. "one more interruption, and the rest of my heart-tragedy will remain forever alien to your ear." sanborn seemed alarmed: "my lips are glued to my pipe." mason mused--("composed!" sanborn thought.) "she looked as if she had been moulded into her gown. the parisian robe and the hair piled high, were fast--undeniably theatric, but her little face was sweet and girlish, almost childish. well, she had glamour, largely physical as you say. but like the heroes of e. p. roe's novels, i aspired to awaken her soul. she was pleased with me apparently. i called soon after the reception--i always follow up each case of glamour. i knew she was rich but i did not realize she commanded such an establishment. "it was enormous. her mother was a faded little hen of a woman, who had been a very humble person in youth, and who continued a very humble person in middle-life. the court-house in which she was forced to live continually over-awed her, but the girl used it, entertained in it as if she had a string of palace-dwelling ancestors straggling clear back to charlemagne." "that's the american idea, the power of adaptation. our women have it better developed than--" "she was a gracious and charming hostess, and i admit the sight of her in command of such an establishment was impressive. i thought how easily a tired editor could be absorbed into that institution and be at rest--a kind of life hospital, so to say. she was interested in me--that was certain." "now, mason, i must protest. you know how high isabel and i both hold you, but we never quite considered you in the light of a ladies' man. your springfield girl must have had dozens of brilliant and handsome young men about her." mason smoked in silence, waiting till sanborn's buzz ceased. "well, she came to the city last month, and i've been to see her a number of times; the last time i saw her she proposed to me." sanborn stared, with fallen jaw gaping, while mason continued in easy flow. "and i have the matter under consideration. i saw the coming storm in her eyes. last night as we sat together at the piano she turned suddenly and faced me, very tense and very white. "'mr. mason, why can't you--i mean--what do you think of me?' "i couldn't tell her that night what i thought of her, for she had seemed more minutely commonplace than ever. she had trotted round her little well-worn circle of graces and accomplishments, even to playing her favorite selection on the piano. i equivocated. i professed it was not very easy to say what i thought of her, and added: "'i think you're a fine, wholesome girl,' as she is, of course. "'but you don't think i'm beautiful?' that was a woman's question, wasn't it. 'yes,' i said in reply, 'i think you are very attractive. nature has been lavish with you.' "then she flamed red and stammered a little: "'then why don't you like me?' "'i do,' i said. "'you know what i mean,' she hurried on to say--'i want you to like me better than any other woman.' "'that's impossible,' i replied. it was pitiful to see her sitting there like a beggar in the midst of all her splendor. 'i like you very much. i think you're very sweet and kind and girlish.' "she seemed to react from her boldness. her eyes filled with tears. 'i know you think i'm _terrible_ to say these things.' "'no. i feel that i do not deserve such trust on your part.' then she defended me. 'yes, you do. i couldn't have spoken to any one else so. you're so kind and gentle.'" "did she say that of you?" "she said that." "i wish i could reach that phase of your character," sighed sanborn. "what did you say in reply?" mason apparently showed deep feeling at last. "i told her that i was like the average man. i was taking credit to myself for not devouring her like a wolf! she didn't listen to that. 'what can i do to make you like me?' she asked. she leaned toward me, her chin in her palm, thinking and suffering as her sweet little soul had never suffered before. 'i'm too simple,' she said, with a flash of startling insight. 'i don't know enough. i feel that. can't i study and change that?' "'you're changing that now,' i replied. "she grew radiant for a moment." "'o you _do_ like me a little!'" as he went on, mason's tone grew sweet and solemn. it had singular power of suggestion. it developed more of his nature than he knew; his real gravity, and tenderness and purity. "there you have it," he ended. he struck the ashes out of his pipe and rose. "i could marry her, but it wouldn't make her happy. it would make her suffer. it is not a light thing to decide. it is a very grave thing. as in the case of the sculptress i thought it an error of judgment on her part, and on my own it would be criminal." "that's a fine bit of fiction," said sanborn. "you're too rough on yourself, for you could do the girl a deal of good by marrying her." "possibly. in the case of the sculptress the problem is different. she is moving past me like a queen--splendid, supple, a smile of conscious power on her lips, the light of success in her eyes. it's a terrible temptation, i admit, this power to stretch out my hand and stay her. it makes my blood leap, but my sense of justice will not allow of it. i shall let her pass on, beautiful and rapt." "to marry some confounded pin-head, who will make her a domestic animal, and degrade her into 'my wife, gents'?" "possibly. however, my responsibility ends where i say good-bye." "don't shirk--don't shirk." mason turned on him. his voice lost a little of its coldness. "is a man to have no credit for letting such a glorious creature pass him, unharmed and free?" "why yes, certainly. but the world of art will not satisfy that girl. she's sure to marry--she _must_ marry--and she is entitled to more consideration. you've got to look ahead to the time when she regrets the lack of husband and children." "ah, but it's a frightful thing, sanborn, to arrest that girl, to make her a wife and mother, to watch her grow distorted, stiffened, heavy with child-bearing. i prefer to see her pass me, in order that i may remember her, lithe, radiant, moving like music and light." "that's fine, mason, i honor you for that spirit," said sanborn, deeply moved. "but you must remember i am about to be married to a beautiful woman myself, a woman who knows both sexes, knows their vices and passions. she tells me, and it fits in with what i know myself, that the woman's nature moves on from this beautiful state you've described so well, into the pain and responsibility of marriage not merely willingly, but eagerly. half the girl's joy, which we men see in her face, is the smile of anticipated motherhood--it must be so. isabel, as you know, is no sentimentalist; she's a woman you can talk these things to, freely. i can't state it as she did, but the substance of it was this: if the girl knew she was to be always young and childish, her youth and beauty would be of no value to her--that it is the untried pain and pleasures of other years and conditions which make the beauty so radiant now." "all of which merely means she makes the best of an irresistible and tragic impulse, a force which she does not originate and cannot control. therefore i say it is a sorrowful business to hew down a temple or tear a lily in pieces." the two men were silent again. they had reached fundamentals in their talk. sanborn considered the whole matter an allegory, which mason was using to veil his design to win rose if possible. he knew the ease of mason's invention, as well as his power to present a case dramatically, and while he was moved by the expression of his friend's noble thought, he could not think that there was any exact truth contained in the story. mason resumed a moment later: "there are certain other material, minor and prosaic considerations which must be kept in mind. suppose i announce my engagement to miss aurelia; the newspapers would have a pleasant paragraph or two. some people would say 'what a very appropriate match.' others would say very knowingly, 'well, mason has feathered his nest.' the newspaper boys who really wish me well would say, 'good for mason; now he can take time to finish that great american novel he's had on hand so long!' a few shrewd fellows would say, 'well, that ends mason! he's naturally lazy, and with a wife and home like that he'll never do another stroke of work. mason's like coleridge in one thing: he dreams great things, but never writes them. he's out of the race!'" "there's something in that," sanborn admitted. "i know there is," mason replied without offense. "now we'll suppose i scrape a little money together for immediate use. the old railway baron is kind. he tolerates me for the daughter's sake. i come in contact with the relatives; already i have had a touch of them! a girl like that is not like a pebble on the sea-shore; she's a thread in a web of cloth, a silken thread in a breadth of shoddy, maybe. you can't marry her and have her to yourself. you come into new relations with her people as her _fiancé_. they cannot be escaped. they swarm around you. they question your motives and they comment on your person: 'he's getting bent and bald;' 'he's lazy;' 'what did she ever see in him?' they vulgarize everything they touch. they are as tiresome as the squeal of a pump, but there you are, you must meet them. the old gentleman is a man who deals in millions, reliable and conscientious. he talks to you about his business, till you say, 'business be damned.' he thereafter meets you in heavy silence. the mother is a timid soul, with an exaggerated idea of your importance as an editor. the aunts and uncles variously sniff and tremble before you." "meanwhile your wife has talked all she knows, and all she says thereafter has a familiar sound. she delights in stories with many repetitions in them. her little brain travels from the pantry to the table, from the tea table to the children's bath tub; its widest circuit is the millinery store and the bargain counter. she gets fat, that's another distressing phase of my trouble, let me say. i seem to be gifted with a prophetic eye in the midst of my transports--" "think of you in a transport!" "i am able to see just how each one will change, how this pretty plumpness will get fat, how this delicate slimness will get bony. i see how this beautiful alert face will get beakish. in other words i am troubled about the future, when i should be involved only in the ecstasy of the present. in this latest case i see excessive plumpness and chatter in ten years. i see myself bored to death with her within ten months. she is at her best now; in striving to win me she is like a female bird, her plumage is at its best; she will grow dowdy when the incentive is gone. "there are other considerations. aurelia, too, has exaggerated notions of my power to earn money. she may expect me to maintain an expensive establishment. i can't ask anything of the political pirate, her father; i can only put my income into the treasury. if my power to earn money decreases, as it may, then i become an object of contempt on the part of the old savage, who considers money the measure of ability. suppose at last i come to the point of borrowing money, of going to the old man humbly, twisting my hat in my hand: 'my dear sir, aurelia and the children'--pah!" he uttered a sound of disgust and anger and fell silent. sanborn mused, "i wonder if the lovers of any other age had any such scruples about marriage. i guess you're right about aurelia, but i don't believe you are about the sculptress. i think she would make you happy." mason mused a moment and then went on: "well, now, as to that--marry her and we plunge, inside of two years, into a squalid struggle for bread and coal and a roof. i elect myself at once into the ranks of dray-horses, and, as i said before, i chain a genius to the neck-yoke with me. that is also out of the question." sanborn sought his hat. "well, mason, this has been a season of plain speaking. i'd feel pretty bad over it if i thought it was real. when you get the whole thing typewritten i should like to read it to isabel and rose." mason's face did not change, but he failed to look at his friend. he said quietly: "isabel wouldn't read it; the girl might possibly find something in it of value. good night; you've listened like a martyr." "don't fail to write that out while it's fresh in your mind. good night," said sanborn. his last glance as he closed the door fell upon a lonely figure lying in a low chair before the fire, and he pitied him. mason seemed "the great irresolute" which isabel believed him to be; helpless to do, patient to suffer. chapter xxii social questions the social world seemed about to open to the coulé girl. at mrs. harvey's she called, and behold! her house was but one street removed from the lake shore drive, on which she had stood that september day. it was a home of comfort rather than of wealth, not at all ostentatious, and yet its elegance troubled rose not a little. she knew values by instinct, and she knew there was nothing shoddy and nothing carelessly purchased in the room. the harveys were envied by some of their wealthier neighbors for the harmoniousness of their house. they contrived to make their furniture distinguish itself from a down-town stock--which requires taste in selection, and arrangement as well. rose heard voices above, and soon mrs. harvey and isabel came down together. rose was glad of her friend's presence--it made it easier for her. after hearty greetings from mrs. harvey they all sat down and mrs. harvey said: "i'm glad you came over. we--isabel and i--feel that we should do something for you socially. i would like to have you come over some wednesday and pour tea for me. it's just my afternoon at home, and friends drop in and chatter a little while; perhaps you'd enjoy it." "o, you're very kind!" rose said, dimly divining that this was a valuable privilege, "but i really couldn't do it. i--i'm not up to that." "o, yes, you are. you'd look like a painting by boldini up against that tapestry, with your hair brought low, the way you wore it concert night." isabel put in a word. "it isn't anything to scare you, rose. it's hardly more formal than at college, only there won't be any men. it will introduce you to some nice girls, and we'll make it as easy for you as we can." "o, yes, indeed; you can sit at the table with isabel." "o, it isn't that," rose said, looking down. "i haven't anything suitable to wear." she went on quickly, as if to put an end to the whole matter. "i'm a farmer's girl living on five hundred dollars a year, and i can't afford fifty dollar dresses. i haven't found out any way to earn money, and i can't ask my father to buy me clothes to wear at teas. you all are very kind to me, but i must tell you that it's all out of my reach." the other women looked at each other while rose hurried through this. mrs. harvey was prepared at the close: "there, now, my dear! don't let that trouble you. any simple little gown will do." "it's out of the question, mrs. harvey, until i can buy my own dresses. i can't ask my father to buy anything more than is strictly necessary." there was a note in her voice which seemed to settle the matter. isabel said, "perhaps you have something made up that will do. won't you let me see what you have? certainly the dress you wore at the concert became you well." "if you have anything that could be altered," mrs. harvey said, "i have a dressmaker in the house now. she could easily do what you need. she's looking over my wardrobe." rose shook her head, and the tears came to her eyes. "you're very, very kind, but it wouldn't do any good. suppose i got a dress suitable for this afternoon, it wouldn't help much. it's impossible. i'd better keep in the background where i belong." she stubbornly held to this position and mrs. harvey reluctantly gave up her plans to do something for her socially. rose had come to see how impossible it was for her to take part in the society world, which isabel and mrs. harvey made possible to her. the winter was thickening with balls and parties; the society columns of the sunday papers were full of "events past," and "events to come." sometimes she wished she might see that life, at other times she cared little. one day, when calling upon isabel, she said suddenly: "do you know how my father earned the money which i spend for board? he gets up in the morning, before any one else, to feed the cattle and work in the garden and take care of the horses. he wears old, faded clothes, and his hands are hard and crooked, and tremble when he raises his tea----" she stopped and broke into a moan--"o, it makes my heart ache to think of him alone up there! if you can help me to earn a living i will bless you. what can i do? i thought i was right, but mr. mason made me feel all wrong. i'm discouraged now; why was i born?" isabel waited until her storm of emotion passed, then she said: "don't be discouraged yet, and don't be in haste to succeed. you are only beginning to think about your place in the economy of things. you are costing your father but little now, and he does not grudge it; besides, all this is a part of your education. wait a year and then we will see what you had better do to earn a living." they were in her library and rose sat with her hat on ready to go back to her boarding house. isabel went on, after a time spent in thought: "now the social question is not so hopeless as you think. there are plenty of select fine places for you to go without a swagger gown. of course, there is a very small circle here in chicago which tries to be ultra-fashionable, but it's rather difficult because chicago men have something else to do and won't be dragooned into studying ward mcallister. you'll find the people here mostly good, sensible people, like the harveys, who'll enjoy you in any nice, quiet dress. you can meet them informally at dinner or at their little sunday evening in. so don't you take any more trouble about it," she ended, "and you needn't pay me for the lecture either." rose answered her with smiles: "i wish i could feel--i wish i didn't care a cent about it, but i do. i don't like to feel shut out of any place. i feel the equal of any one; i was brought up that way, and i don't like to be on the outside of anything. that's a dreadful thing to say, i suppose, but that's the way i feel." "i'm not going to quarrel with you about the depth of your depravity; but i assure you there is no circle in chicago worth knowing which will shut you out because you are a poor girl. thank heaven, we have not reached to that point yet. and now about your writing. i believe in you. i liked those verses, though i may not be an acute critic--mr. mason says i'm a conservative, and he's probably right. he says you should write as you talk. he told me you had remarkable power in suggesting images to the mind, but in your verse the images were all second-hand. he believes you'll come to your own themes and style soon." "i hope so." her answer was rather spiritless in tone. "there's another thing, rose. you're going to have suitors here in chicago, and fine ones too. may i talk with you about that?" rose flushed deeply and her eyes fell; she was a little incoherent. "why, yes--i don't see any reason--there isn't any need of secrecy." isabel studied her from a little distance. "rose, tell me: how is it that you didn't marry young, as so many poor girls do?" rose considered a moment: "i hardly know myself." "you had lovers, always?" "yes, always." "and you had fancies, too?" "o yes, as all girls do, i suppose." "why didn't you marry one of these?" "well, for one reason, they didn't please me well enough--i mean _long_ enough. they grew tiresome after awhile; and then i was ambitious, i wanted to get out into the world. i couldn't marry some one who would bind me down to the cook-stove all my life, and then i had my ideals of what a man should be--and, some way, the boys didn't interest me after awhile." "i think i understand that. you're going to marry some time, of course." rose looked down: "why, yes, i suppose so--most girls do." "don't think i'm impertinent, will you, but is there any--are you bound to any one?" rose lifted her face. "no, i am as free as any woman." "i'm glad of that, rose. i was afraid you might be half-engaged to some one in the college or back in the valley. it makes it very fine and simple if you can enter your wider life here, free. you are sure to marry, and you ought to marry well." rose replied a little disgustedly: "i hate to think of marrying for a home, and i hate to think of marrying as a profession. writers accuse us of thinking of nothing else, and i get sick and tired of the whole thing. i wish i was just a plain animal or had no sex at all. sometimes i think it is a curse to be a woman." she ended fierce and sullen. isabel shrank a little: "o don't be too hard on me, rose! i didn't mean to anger you." "i'm not angry; the things i want to say i can't seem to say. it isn't your fault or mine. it's just fate. i hate to think of 'marrying well'--" "i think i understand," isabel said, a little appalled at the storm she had raised. "i haven't been troubled by that question because i have a profession, and have something to think about besides marriage, and still we must think about it enough to prepare for it. the world must have its wives and mothers. you are to be a wife and mother, you are fitted for it by nature. men see that--that is the reason you are never without suitors. all i was going to say, dear, was this: you are worthy the finest and truest man, for you have a great career, i feel sure of it--and so--but no, i'll not lecture you another minute. you're a stronger woman than i ever was, and i feel you can take care of yourself." "that's just it. i don't feel sure of that yet. i feel dependent upon my father and i ought not to be; i'm out of school, i'm twenty-three years of age, and i want to do something. i must do something--and i don't want to marry as a--as a--because i am a failure." "nobody wants you to do that, rose. but you didn't mean that exactly. you mean you didn't want to come to any man dependent. i don't think you will; you'll find out your best holt, as the men say, and you'll succeed." rose looked at her in silence a moment: "i'm going to confess something," she finally said with a little laugh. "i hate to keep house. i hate to sew, and i can't marry a man who wants me to do the way other women do. i must be intended for something else than a housewife, because i never do a bit of cooking or sewing without groaning. i like to paint fences and paper walls; but i'm not in the least domestic." isabel was amused at the serious tone in which rose spoke. "there is one primal event which can change all that. i've seen it transform a score of women. it will make you domestic and will turn sewing into a delight." "what do you mean?" asked rose, though more than half guessing. "i mean motherhood." the girl shrank, and sat silent, as if a doom had been pronounced upon her. "that is what marriage must mean to you and to me," isabel said, and her face had an exultant light in it. "i love my profession--i am ambitious in it, but i could bear to give it all up a hundred times over, rather than my hope of being a mother." the girl was awed almost into whispering. "does it mean that--will it take away your power as a physician?" "no, that's the best of it these days. if a woman has brains and a good man for a husband, it broadens her powers. i feel that dr. sanborn and i will be better physicians by being father and mother. o, those are great words, rose! let me tell you they are broader than poet or painter, deeper than wife or husband. i've wanted to say these things to you, rose. you've escaped reckless marriage someway, now let me warn you against an ambitious marriage--" she broke off suddenly. "no, i'll stop. you've taken care of yourself so far; it would be strange if you couldn't now." she turned quickly and went to rose. "i love you," she said. "we are spiritual sisters, i felt that the day you crushed me. i like women who do not cry. i want you to forgive me for lecturing you, and i want you to go on following the lead of your mysterious guide; i don't know what it is or, rather, who he is--" she stopped suddenly, and seating herself on the arm of rose's chair, smiled. "i believe it is a man, somewhere. come now, confess--who is he?" quick as light the form and face of william de lisle came into rose's thought, and she said: "he's a circus rider." isabel unclasped rose's arm and faced her. "a circus rider!" rose colored hotly and looked away. "i--can't tell you about it--you'd laugh and--well, i don't care to explain." isabel looked at her with comical gravity. "do you know what you've done, 'coolly' girl? you know the common opinion of woman's curiosity? i don't believe a woman is a bit more curious than a man, only a woman is curious about things he isn't. i'm suffering agonies this minute. you know i'm an alienist. i've studied mad people so much i know just what sends them off. you've started me. if you don't explain at once--" she went to the door and called, "etta! don't disturb me, no matter who comes." "now tell me about it," she said, as she sat down beside rose and studied her with avid eyes. "why, it's nothing," rose began. "i never spoke to him, and he never even saw me, and i never saw him but once--" "and yet he influenced your whole life?" rose mused a moment: "yes, i can see it now--i never realized it before--he has helped me all my life." she told of her first sight of him, of her long ride home, of her thoughts of him, reserving something, of course, and her voice grew husky with remembered emotion. she uttered more than she knew. she showed the keen little woman at her side the more imaginative side of her nature. it became evident to isabel that the beautiful poise of the head and supple swing of the girl's body was in part due to the suggestion of the man's perfect grace. his idealized face had made the commonplace apparent--had led her, lifted her. "why, it's all a poem!" she exclaimed at the end. "it's magnificent; and you thought i'd laugh!" she looked reproachful. "i think it's incredibly beautiful. what was his name? we may meet him some time--" rose drew back and grew hot with a blush. "oh, no--i don't want to see him now. i'm afraid he wouldn't seem the same to me now." isabel considered. "you're right! he never really existed. he was a product of your own clean, sweet imagination, but let me tell you--" she made a swift feminine turn to the trivial, "you'll marry a tall, lathy man, or a short, dumpy man. that's the way things go. really, i'll need to keep doctor and mason out of the house." chapter xxiii a storm and a helmsman in quiet wise her winter wore on. in a month or two the home feeling began to make itself felt, and the city grew less appalling, though hardly less oppressive. there were moments when it seemed the most splendid presence in the world--at sunset, when the river was crowded with shipping and the great buildings loomed up blue as wood-smoke, almost translucent; when the brick walls grew wine-colored; when the river was flooded with radiance from the western sun, and the great steamers lay like birds wearied and dreaming after a long journey. sometimes, too, at night, when she came out of the concert hall and saw the glittering twin tiaras of burning gold which the great northern towers held against the blue-black, starless sky, two hundred feet above the pavement; or when in the early evening she approached the mountainous temple, luminous and sparkling with electric lights, lifting a lighted dome as airy as a bubble three hundred feet into the pale sapphire of the cloudless sky--the city grew lofty. the gross, the confused in line, the prosy in color, disappeared at such moments, and the city, always vast, took on grace and charm and softened to magnificence; became epic, expressing in prophecy that which it must attain to; expressed the swift coming in of art and poetry in the lives of the western world-builders. she grew with it all; it deepened her conception of life, but she could not write of it for the reason that it was too near and too multiple in its appeal upon her. she strove daily to arrange it in her mind, to put it into form, and this striving wore upon her severely. she lost some of her superb color and physical elasticity because of it, and became each week a little less distinctive exteriorly, which was a decided loss, mason told isabel. "she isn't losing anything very real," isabel said. "she's just as unaccountable as ever. she goes out much less than you imagine. i take her out, and send her, all i can to keep her from getting morbid. why don't you come oftener and help me?" "self-protection," said mason. "are you afraid of a country girl?" "o, no--afraid of myself." "how much do you mean of that, warren?" "all of it." she wrinkled her brow in disgust of his concealing candor. "o, you are impossible in that mood!" as the winter deepened rose narrowed the circle of conquest. she no longer thought of conquering the world; it came to be the question of winning the approbation of one human soul. that is, she wished to win the approbation of the world in order that warren mason might smile and say "well done!" she did not reach this state of mind smoothly and easily. on the contrary, she had moments when she rebelled at the thought of any man's opinion being the greatest good in the world to her. she rebelled at the implied inferiority of her position in relation to him and also at the physical bondage implied. in the morning when she was strong, in the midst of some social success, when people swarmed about her and men bent deferentially, then she held herself like a soldier on a tower defying capture. but at night, when the lights were all out, when she felt her essential loneliness and weakness, and need--when the world seemed cold and cruel and selfish, then it seemed as if the sweetest thing in the universe would be to have him open his arms and say "come!" there would be rest there and repose. his judgment, his keen wit, his penetrating, powerful influence, made him seem a giant to her, a giant who disdained effort and gave out an appearance of indifference and lassitude. she had known physical giants in her neighborhood who spoke in soft drawl, and slouched lazily in action, but who were invincible when aroused. she imagined she perceived in mason a mental giant, who assumed irresolution and weakness for reasons of his own. he was always off duty when she saw him, and bent more upon rest than a display of power. once or twice she saw him roused, and it thrilled her; that measured lazy roll of voice changed to a quick, stern snarl, the brows lowered and the big, plump face took on battle lines. it was like a seemingly shallow pool suddenly disclosed to be of soundless depths by a wind of passion. the lake had been the refuge of the distracted and restless girl. she went to it often in the autumn days, for it rested her from the noise of grinding wheels, and screams and yells. its smooth rise and fall, its sparkle of white-caps, its sailing gulls, filled her with delicious pleasure. it soothed her and it roused her also. it gave her time to think. the street disturbed her, left her purposeless and powerless, but out there where the ships floated like shadows, and shadows shifted like flame, and the wind was keen and sweet--there she could get her mental breath again. she watched it change to wintry desolation, till it grew empty of vessels and was lonely as the arctic sea, and always it was grand and thought-inspiring. she went out one day in march when the home longing was upon her and when it seemed that the city would be her death. she was tired of her food, tired of mary, tired of her room. her forehead was knotted tensely with pain of life and love-- she cried out with sudden joy, for she had never seen the lake more beautiful. near the shore a great mass of churned and heaving ice and snow lay like a robe of shaggy fur. beyond this the deep water spread, a vivid pea-green broken by wide, irregular strips of dark purple. in the open water by the wall a spatter of steel-blue lay like the petals of some strange flower, scattered upon the green. great splendid clouds developed, marvelously like the clouds of june, making the girl's heart swell with memories of summer. they were white as wool, these mountainous clouds, and bottomed in violet, and as they passed the snow-fields they sent down pink-purple, misty shadows, which trailed away in splendor toward the green which flamed in bewildering beauty beyond. the girl sat like one in a dream while the wind blew the green and purple of the outer sea into fantastic, flitting forms which dazzled her eyes like the stream of mingled banners. each form seemed more beautiful than the preceding one; each combination had such unearthly radiance, her heart ached with exquisite sorrow to see it vanish. the girl felt that spring was coming on the wing of the southern wind, and the desire to utter her passion grew almost into pain. it had other moods, this mighty spread of water. it could be angry, dangerous. sometimes it rolled sullenly, and convoluted in oily surges beneath its coverlid of snow, like a bed of monstrous serpents. sometimes the leaden sky shut down over it, and from the desolate north-east a snowstorm rushed, hissing and howling. sometimes it slumbered for days, quiet as a sleeping boa, then awoke and was a presence and a voice in the night, fit to make the hardiest tremble. rose saw it when it was roused, but she had yet to see it in a frenzy. the knowledge of its worst came to her early in may, just before her return to the coulé. the day broke with the wind in the north-east. rose, lying in her bed, could hear the roar of the lake; never before had its voice penetrated so far. she sprang up and dressed, eager to see it in such a mood. mary responded sleepily to her call, saying the lake would be there after breakfast. rose did not regret her eagerness, though it was piercingly cold and raw. the sea was already terrific. its spread of tawny yellow showed how it had reached down and laid hold on the sand of its bed. there were oily splotches of plum-color scattered over it where the wind blew it smooth and it reached to the wild east sky, cold, desolate, destructive. it had a fierce, breathing snarl like a monster at meat. it leaped against the sea-wall like a rabid tiger, its sleek and spotted hide rolling. every surge sent a triangular sheet of foam twenty-five feet above the wall, yellow and white, and shadowed with dull blue; and the wind caught it as it rose, and its crest burst into great clouds of spray, which sailed across the streets and dashed along the walk like rain, making the roadway like a river; while the main body of each up-leaping wave, falling back astride the wall, crashed like the fall of glass, and the next wave met it with a growl of thunderous rage, striking it with concave palm, with a sound like a cannon's exploding roar. out of the appalling obscurity to the north frightened ships scudded at intervals with bare masts bending like fire-trimmed pines. they hastened like homing pigeons which do not look behind. the helmsmen stood grimly at their wheels, with eyes on the harbor ahead. the girl felt it all as no one native to the sea can possibly do. it seemed as if the bounds of the flood had been overcome, and that it was about to hurl itself upon the land. the slender trees, standing deep in the swash of water, bowed like women in pain; the wall was half hidden, and the flood and the land seemed mingled in battle. rose walked along the shore, too much excited to go back to her breakfast. at noon she ate lunch hurriedly and returned to the shore. there were hundreds of people coming and going along the drive; young girls shrieking with glee, as the sailing clouds of spray fell upon them. rose felt angry to think they could be so silly in face of such dreadful power. she came upon mason, dressed in a thick mackintosh coat, taking notes rapidly in a little book. he did not look up and she passed him, wishing to speak, yet afraid to speak. near him a young man was sketching. mason stood like a rock in his long, close-fitting raincoat, while she was blown nearly off her feet by the blast. she came back against the wind, feeling her soul's internal storm rising. it seemed quite like a proposal of marriage to go up and speak to him--yet she could not forego the pleasure. he did not see her until she came into his lee, then he smiled, extending his hand. she spoke first: "may i take shelter here?" his eyes lightened with a sudden tender humor. "free anchorage," he said, and drew her by the hand closer to his shoulder. it was a beautiful moment to her, and a dangerous one to him. he took refuge in outside matters. "how does that strike your inland eyes?" he pointed to the north. "it's awful. it's like the anger of god." she spoke into his bowed ear. "please don't think i'm reporting it," he explained. "i'm only making a few notes about it for an editorial on the need of harbors." each moment the fury increased, the waves deepened. the commotion sank down amid the sands of the deeper inshore water, and it boiled like milk. splendid colors grew into it near at hand; the winds tore at the tops of the waves, and wove them into tawny banners which blurred the air like blown sand. on the horizon the waves leaped in savage ranks, clutching at the sky like insane sea-monsters, frantic, futile. "i've seen the atlantic twice during a gale," shouted the artist to a companion, "but i never saw anything more awful than this. these waves are quicker and higher. i don't see how a vessel could live in it if caught broadside." "it's the worst i ever saw here." "i'm going down to the south side; would you like to go?" mason asked of rose. "i would, indeed," she replied. back from the lake shore the wind was less powerful but more uncertain. it came in gusts which nearly upturned the street cars. men and women scudded from shelter to shelter like beleaguered citizens avoiding cannon shots. "what makes our lake so terrible," said mason, in the car, "is the fact that it has a smooth shore--no indentations, no harbors. there is only one harbor here at chicago, behind the breakwater, and every vessel in mid-lake must come here. those flying ships are seeking safety here like birds. the harbor will be full of disabled vessels." as they left the car a roaring gust swept around a twenty-story building with such power rose would have been taken off her feet had not mason put his arm about her shoulders. "you're at a disadvantage," he said, "with skirts." he knew she prided herself on her strength, and he took no credit to himself for standing where she fell. it was precisely as if they were alone together: the storm seemed to wall them in, and his manner was more intimate than ever before. it was in very truth the first time they had been out together, and also it was the only time he had assumed any physical care of her. he had never asserted his greater muscular power and mastery of material things, and she was amazed to see that his lethargy was only a mood. he could be alert and agile at need. it made his cynicism appear to be a mood also; at least, it made her heart wondrously light to think so. they came upon the lake shore again, near the auditorium. the refuge behind the breakwater was full of boats, straining at anchor, rolling, pitching, crashing together. close about the edge of the breakwater ships were rounding hurriedly, and two broken vessels lay against the shore, threshing up and down in the awful grasp of the breakers. far down toward the south the water dashed against the spiles, shooting fifty feet above the wall, sailing like smoke, deluging the street, and lashing against the row of buildings across the way. mason's keen eye took in the situation: "every vessel that breaks anchor is doomed! nothing can keep them from going on shore. doubtless those two schooners lost anchor--that one there is dragging anchor." he said suddenly, "she is shifting position, and see that hulk--" rose for a moment could not see it. she lay flat on her side, a two-master, her sails flapping and floating on the waves. her anchor still held, but she had listed her cargo, careened, and so lay helpless. "there are men on it!" cried some one. "three men--don't you see them? the water goes over them every time!" "sure enough! i wonder if they are going to let them drown, here in the harbor!" rose grew numb with horror. on the rounded side of the floating hulk three men were clinging, looking like pegs of tops. they could only be seen at intervals, for the water broke clear over their heads. it was only when one of them began to move to and fro that the mighty crowd became certainly aware of life still clinging to the hull. it was an awful thing to stand helplessly by, and see those brave men battle, but no life-boat or tug could live out there. in the station men wept and imprecated in their despair--twice they tried to go to the rescue of the beleaguered men, but could not reach them. suddenly a flare of yellow spread out on the wave. a cry arose: "she's breaking up!" rose seized mason's arm in a frenzy of horror. "o god! can't somebody help them?" "they're out of reach!" said mason solemnly. and then the throng was silent. "they are building a raft!" shouted a man with a glass, speaking at intervals for the information of all. "one man is tying a rope to planks ... he is helping the other men ... he has his little raft nearly ready ... they are crawling toward him--" "o see them!" exclaimed rose. "o the brave men! there! they are gone--the vessel has broken up." on the wave nothing now lived but a yellow spread of lumber; the glass revealed no living thing. mason turned to rose with a grave and tender look. "you have seen human beings engulfed like flies--" "no! no! there they are!" shouted a hundred voices, as if in answer to mason's thought. thereafter the whole great city seemed to be watching those specks of human life, drifting toward almost certain death upon the breakwater of the south shore. for miles the beach was clustered black with people. they stood there, it seemed for hours, watching the slow approach of that tiny raft. again and again the waves swept over it, and each time that indomitable man rose from the flood and was seen to pull his companions aboard. other vessels drifted upon the rocks. other steamers rolled heavily around the long breakwater, but nothing now distracted the gaze of the multitude from this appalling and amazing struggle against death. nothing? no, once and only once did the onlookers shift their intent gaze, and that was when a vessel passed the breakwater and went sailing toward the south through the fleet of anchored, straining, agonized ships. at first no one paid much attention to this late-comer till mason lifted his voice. "by heaven, the man is _sailing_!" it was true; steady, swift, undeviating, the vessel headed through the fleet. she did not drift nor wander nor hesitate. she sailed as if the helmsman, with set teeth, were saying, "by god! if i must die on the rocks, i'll go to my death the captain of my vessel!" and so, with wheel in his hand and epic oaths in his mouth, he sailed directly into the long row of spiles, over which the waves ran like hell-hounds; where half a score of wrecks lay already churning into fragments in the awful tumult. the sailing vessel seemed not to waver, nor seek nor dodge--seemed rather to choose the most deadly battle-place of waves and wall. "god! but that's magnificent of him!" mason said to himself. rose held her breath, her face white and set with horror. "o must he die?" "there is no hope for him. she will strike in a moment--she strikes!--she is gone!" the vessel entered the grey confusion of the breakers and struck the piles like a battering ram; the waves buried her from sight; then the recoil flung her back; for the first time she swung broadside to the storm. the work of the helmsman was over. she reeled--resisted an instant, then submitted to her fate, crumbled against the pitiless wall like paper and thereafter was lost to sight. this dramatic and terrible scene had held the attention of the onlookers--once more they searched for the tiny raft. it was nearing the lake wall at another furious point of contact. an innumerable crowd spread like a black robe over the shore waiting to see the tiny float strike. a hush fell over every voice. each soul was solemn as if facing the maker of the world. out on the point, just where the doomed sailors seemed like to strike, there was a little commotion. a tiny figure was seen perched on one of the spiles. each wave, as it towered above him, seemed ready to sweep him away, but each time he bowed his head and seemed to sweep through the gray wall. he was a negro and he held a rope in his hands. as they comprehended his danger the crowd cheered him, but in the thunder of the surf no human voice could avail. the bold negro could not cry out, he could only motion, but the brave man on the raft saw his purpose--he was alone with the shipwrecked ones. in they came, lifted and hurled by a prodigious swell. they struck the wall just beneath the negro and disappeared beneath the waves. all seemed over, and some of the spectators fell weeping; others turned away. suddenly the indomitable commander of the raft rose, then his companions, and then it was perceived that he had bound them all to the raft. the negro flung his rope and one man caught at it, but it was swept out of reach on a backward leaping billow. again they came in, their white, strained, set faces and wild eyes turned to the intrepid rescuer. again they struck, and this time the negro caught and held one of the sailors, held him while the foam fell away, and the succeeding wave swept him over the spiles to safety. again the resolute man flung his noose and caught the second sailor, whose rope was cut by the leader, the captain, who was last to be saved. as the negro came back, dragging his third man over the wall, a mighty cry went up, a strange, faint, multitudinous cry, and the negro was swallowed up in the multitude. * * * * * mason turned to rose and spoke: "sometimes men seem to be worth while!" rose was still clinging to his arm as they walked away. mason did not speak again for some time. "we have suffered in vain," he said at last, "and you are cold and stiffened with long standing. let me put you in a cab and--" "oh, no, thank you! the walk will do me good." "perhaps you are right. i'll go with you to the car, and then i must go to my desk for six hours of hard work. put this behind you," he said tenderly. "it does no good to suffer over the inevitable. forget those men!" "i can't! i shall never forget them while i live. it was awful!" she shuddered, but when she looked into his face she nearly cried out in astonishment at the light in his eyes. "it had its grandeur. they went to their death like men. they have taught me a lesson. hitherto i have drifted--henceforth _i sail_!" he bent to her with a mystical smile. she drew away in a sort of awe as if she looked unworthily upon a sacred place. he misunderstood her action and said, "don't be afraid. i have something to say to you, but not here; perhaps i'll write it. when do you go?" "on saturday." "i will write you soon. good bye." she watched him as he moved away into the crowd, with powerful erect body--the deskman's droop almost gone out of his shoulders. what did he mean? she was standing waiting for a chance to board a car when elbert harvey came pushing along against the wind, fresh and strong and glowing with color like a girl. "o, i've been looking for you, rose," he said. "i was at your house. they said you were over on the lake front and so--see here! you're all wet and cold. i'm going to get a carriage." he would not be gainsaid, and she was really glad to escape the crowd in the car. he said: "i'm going to take you home to get warm." she allowed herself to be driven to the door before she realized what it might be taken to mean, but it was then too late to insist on being driven home, it would do no harm to see mrs. harvey for a moment--and then she was so tired, too tired to resist. mrs. harvey met her in the hall, smiling and scolding: "why, you reckless girl! have you been down town? elbert, where did you get her?" "i found her on the street waiting for a state street car--shivering, too." "why, you're all wet! come up to my room and change your shoes." the warm air and the glow of the beautiful rooms seemed to narcotize her, and rose allowed herself to be led away like a sleepy child. it was delicious to be so attended. mrs. harvey took her to her own room, a room as big and comfortable and homely as herself, and there she put rose down before the grateful fire and rang for her maid. "annette, remove mademoiselle's shoes and give her some slippers." the deft girl removed rose's wraps, then her shoes, while mrs. harvey knelt by her side and felt of her stocking soles. "they're wet, just as i expected." she said joyfully, "take them off!" "o, no! they'll dry in a minute." "take them off, annette," commanded mrs. harvey. "o, what lovely feet and ankles!" she said, and so betrayed her not too subtle design to rose. rose was passive now, and yielded to the manipulations of the two women. they all had a gale of fun over the difference between mrs. harvey's stockings and her own, and then they brought out a fantastic pair of slippers and a beautiful wrap, which mrs. harvey insisted upon putting about her. at about this time elbert knocked on the door. "can't i come in and share the fun, caroline?" "in a moment!" she replied, and finished tucking the robe about rose. "now you may." elbert came in, radiant, unabashed, smiling, almost grinning his delight. he had changed his dress to a neat and exquisitely fitting dark suit, and he looked very handsome indeed. his cheeks were like peaches, with much the same sort of fuzz over them. he took a place near the fire where he could see rose, and he signaled to his mother at the earliest chance that she was stunning. rose lay back in the chair with the robe drawn about her, looking the _grande dame_ from her crown of hair to the tasseled toes of her slippers. she might almost have been colombe on the eve of her birthday. it was delicious, and she had not heart or resolution at the moment to throw off this homage. she knew that mrs. harvey was misreading her acquiescence, and that every moment she submitted to her care and motherly direction, involved her, enmeshed her. but it was so delicious to be a princess and an heiress--for an hour. the whole situation was intensified when mr. harvey's soft tenor voice called: "where is everybody?" "come up; here we are! there's somebody here you'll want to see." mr. harvey came in smiling, looking as calm and contained as if he were just risen from sleep. he was almost as exquisitely dressed as his son. "well! well! this is a pleasure," he cordially exclaimed. "what's the meaning of the wrap; not sick?" "elbert picked her up on the street, wet and shivering, waiting for a car, and brought her home." "quite right. we're always glad to see you. did you give her a little cordial, caroline? in case of cold--" rose protested. "i'm not sick, mr. harvey, only tired. i've been out all the day watching the dreadful storm. i saw those ships go on the rocks. o, it was dreadful!" "did you see the three men on the raft?" asked elbert. rose shuddered. how far away she was from that cold, gray tumult of water. of what manner of men were they who could battle so for hours in the freezing sleet? "well, now, we won't talk about the storm any more," mrs. harvey interposed. "it does no good, and rose has had too much of it already. besides, it's almost dinner time, mr. harvey. go dress!" there was not a thread ruffled on mr. harvey's person, but he dutifully withdrew. he had had a busy day, and had transacted business which affected whole states by its influence, yet he was quiet, cordial, exquisite. "what does this mean, my dear?" he asked of mrs. harvey, who followed him out. "it may mean a great deal, willis," she said. "all i know is elbert brought her home, his eyes shining with delight." "not to be wondered at," mr. harvey replied. "i'm only afraid of actresses," he added a little incoherently, but his wife understood him. elbert was not lacking in adroitness. he did not presume on his position during his mother's absence. he remained standing in the same position. "how do you like coddling? now, you see what i get when i dare to sneeze. caroline will coddle any one into regular sickness if you let her." "i was chilled, but i am not sick in the least." "you'd better straighten up and shout at her when she comes in, or she'll be for sending your dinner up to you, and i don't want that." "o, i must go home, now." "not till after dinner." "i'm not--dressed for dinner." "there's nobody here but ourselves. you _must_ stay." every one seemed determined to press her into a false position, and there was so little chance to throw the influence off. she rose out of her cloak, and when mrs. harvey came back she was standing before the fire with elbert--which seemed also to be significant. "caroline, don't coddle rose any more; she's all right." mrs. harvey accepted this command, because it argued a sense of proprietorship on her son's part. they continued this intimate talk during the dinner. elbert took her down and placed her near him. there were a couple of elderly ladies, sisters of mr. harvey, who sat also at table in a shadowy way, and rose divined in a flash of imaginative intelligence how they subordinated themselves because they were dependent. "would i grow like that as i grew old?" was her thought. at the table she felt it her duty to rouse herself to talk, and she took part in the jolly patter between elbert and his mother. their _camaraderie_ was very charming--so charming one almost forgot the irreverence expressed by his use of "caroline." after dinner mrs. emma seymour gallup, whom rose had met two or three times but who always demanded a new introduction, came whisking in on her way to some party. she had everything in decidedly the latest crimp. her sleeves did not fit; her hips seemed enormous; her bonnet seemed split on the middle of her head, and was symmetrically decked with bows of ribbon and glitter and glimmer. her real proportions were only to be divined at the waist, all else was fibre-cloth and conjecture. her eyes were bright and her face cold and imperious. she had once before chilled rose with a cold nod and insulting shift of shoulder. she was plainly surprised to see rose in the bosom of this family, and she seized the only plausible explanation with instant readiness and smiled a beautiful smile, and rose could not help seeing that she had a very charming face after all. "ah! how do you do, miss dutcher! i am very glad to see you again!" "thank you," rose replied simply. "you're quite well--but then i know you're well," mrs. gallup went on, assuming still greater knowledge of her. "did you see the storm? wasn't it dreadful! i saw it all quite securely from mrs. frost's window. how cosy you all look. i wish i could stay, but i just dropped in to ask you to take a seat in my box on saturday night. bring miss dutcher--mr. gallup will be delighted to meet her." all that she said, and more that she implied enmeshed rose like folds of an invisible intangible net. mrs. harvey calmly accepted, but rose exclaimed: "o, you're very kind but i am going home on saturday morning!" "how sad! i should have liked to have you come." after she was gone rose sprang to her feet. "i must go now," she said and there was a note in her voice which mrs. harvey knew meant inflexible decision. as they went upstairs rose was filled with dread of some further complication, but mrs. harvey only said: "i love you, my child. i wish you were going to stay here always." she left the way open for confidences, but rose was in a panic to get away and kept rigid silence. in the carriage she contrived to convey to elbert her desire to be left alone and so he kept back the words of love which were bubbling in his good frank soul. he was saddened by it but not made hopeless. it would have been a beautiful close to a dramatic day could he have kissed her lips and presented her to his mother as his promised wife--but it was impossible for even his volatile nature to break into her somber, almost sullen, silence; and when he said "good night, rose!" with tender sweetness she replied curtly, "good night!" and fled. she hurried past mary to her own room and lay for hours on her bed, without undressing, listening to the howl of the wind, the grind of cars and the distant boom of the breakers. there was a storm in her heart also. she thought of that lovely and gentle home, of the power wealth would give her, of the journeys into the world, of trips to europe, to the ocean, to boston and new york and london. it could give her a life of ease, of power, of grace and charm. o, how beautiful it all was, but---- to win it she had to cut off her old father. he never could fit in with these people. she thought of his meeting with the harveys with a shudder. then, too, she would need to give up her own striving toward independence, for it was plain these people would not hear to her continued effort. even if they consented, she would be meshed in a thousand other duties. and then she thought of mason toiling at his desk down there in the heart of the terrible town, and the look on his face grew less and less imperious and more wistful and pleading. this day she had caught a new meaning from his eyes--it was as if he needed her; it seemed absurd, and she blushed to think it, but so it seemed. that last look on his face was the look of a lonely man. his words came to her again and again: "hitherto i have drifted--henceforth i will sail!" and she pushed away the splendid picture of a life of ease and reached out for comradeship with a man of toil, of dreams and hidden powers. chapter xxiv mason takes a vacation as mason walked away from the lake that terrible day it seemed as if he had ceased to drift. the spirit of that grim helmsman appeared to have entered into him. life was short and pleasures few. for fifteen years he had planned important things to do, but had never done them--feeling all the time the power to write latent within him, yet lacking stimulus. from the very first this girl had roused him unaccountably. her sympathy, her imaginative faculty as well as her beauty, had come to seem the qualities which he most needed. could he have gone to his own fireside at once, the determining letter would have been written that night, but the routine of the office, the chaff of his companions, took away his heroic mood, and when he entered a car at twelve o'clock he slouched in his seat like a tired man, and the muscles of his face fell slack and he looked like a hopeless man. after rose went home he seemed to sanborn to be more impassible than ever. as for mason himself, it seemed as if some saving incentive had gone out of his life--some redeeming grace. he had grown into the habit of dropping in at isabel's once a week, and isabel had taken care that rose should be often there on the same evening; and so without giving much thought to it he had come to accept these evenings as the compensating pleasures of his sombre life. it was such a delight to come up out of the vicious pitiless grind of his newspaper day and sit there before the fire, with the face of a radiant girl to smile upon him. her voice, with its curiously penetrating yet musical quality, stirred him to new thoughts, and often he went home at ten or eleven and wrote with a feeling of exultant power upon his book. after she went home he wrote no more; he smoked and pondered. when he called upon isabel and sanborn he continued to smoke and to ponder. he had not abandoned his allegory in talking with sanborn, and sanborn and isabel together could not get at his real feeling for rose. sanborn asked one day plumply: "mason, why don't you marry the coolly girl, and begin to live?" "it would be taking a mean advantage of her. she's going to be famous one of these days, and then i should be in the way." "nonsense!" "besides, she probably would not marry me; and if she would, i don't think i could keep up the pose." "what pose?" "of husband." "is that a pose?" sanborn smiled. "it would be for me," mason said, rather shortly. he was thinking once more of the letter he had promised to write to rose, but which he had never found himself capable of finishing. he put it in his pocket when he went up in july to spend a week at the herrick cottage at oconomowoc. isabel and sanborn were married just before leaving the city. sanborn said he had the judge come in to give him legal power to compel isabel to do his cooking for him, and isabel replied that her main reason was to secure a legal claim on sanborn's practice. the wedding had been very quiet. society reporters (who did not see it) called it "an unique affair." but mason, who did see it, said it was a very simple process, so simple it seemed one ought to be able to go through it oneself. to which sanborn replied: "quite right. try it!" they had a little cottage on the bank of the lake, and sanborn came up on saturdays with the rest of the madly busy men who rest over sunday and over-work the rest of the week. mason had been with them a week, and, though he gave no sign, he was nearing a crisis in his life. he had gone to the point of finishing his letter to rose--it was lying at that moment in his valise waiting to be posted--but it was a long way from being over with. it was a tremendous moment for him. as he approached the deciding moment the deed grew improbable, impossible. it was a very beautiful life there on the lake, with nothing to do but smoke and dream, but one evening he had the impulse to ask isabel's advice, and after dinner he courteously invited her to sail with him. there was some joking by sanborn about the impropriety of such a thing on isabel's part, and many offers to man the boat, which, mason said, sprang from jealousy. "i consider i am doing you people a kindness in not letting you bore each other into black hatred." it ended in the two friends drifting away over the lake, while sanborn called after them threats of war if they were not at the wharf at nine--sharp! they talked commonplaces for a time, while the sky flushed and faded and the lake gradually cleared of its fisher boats. slowly the colors grew tender and a subtle, impalpable mist rose from the water, through which the boat drifted before an imperceptible breeze. the two sailors lay at ease, mason at the rudder. the sail stood up light and airy and soundless as a butterfly's wing. it pointed at the sparse stars as if with warning finger. the hour and the place were favorable to confidences. as the dusk deepened, a boat-load of young people put off into the lake, singing some wailing sweet song. they were far enough away to be unobtrusively impersonal. a plover was faintly calling from the sedgy shore on the other side. "one should be forever young," said mason broodingly. isabel said: "once i heard a cow low, and a robin laugh, while a cricket chirped in the grass. why should they have moved me so?" mason mused a moment. "the cow was maternity pleading for its suckling; the robin's laugh suggested a thousand springtimes, and the cricket prophesied the coming of frost and age. love and loss are in the wail of yonder song, the loneliness of age in yonder piping bird, and the infinite and all-absorbing menstruum of death in the growing dusk." "and the light of man's optimism in the piercing out of the stars." "it may be so," he replied uncertainly. they drifted on in silence. there was a faint ripple at the prow and that was all. at last mason roused himself to say his word. "all these intangible essences and powers are no apparent reason why i should do so foolish a thing--but they have influenced me. today i wrote to our coolly girl--i hope to say _my_ coolly girl." isabel caught her breath: "warren, did you? i'm very glad. if i could reach you i'd shake your hand." "i don't rejoice. this thing which boys and girls find easy i find each year more difficult, quite equal to the revolution of the earth--perhaps the girl will save me from myself." "she'll save you _for_ yourself, and you'll be happy." "it is impossible to say," he said sombrely. "i have warned her fairly. once i should not have warned the woman of my choice. am i gaining in humanity or losing? please lower your head, i am going to tack." the boat swung about like a sleeping gull, and the sail slowly filled, and the ripple at the prow began again. after a little mason went on in a calm, even voice: "the world to me is not well governed and i hesitate about marriage, for it has the effect, in most cases, of perpetuating the human species, which is not as yet a noble business. i am torn by two minds. i don't appear to be torn by even one mind, but i am. i am convinced that rose has imagination, which is in my eyes the chief thing in a wife. it enables her to idealize me"--there was a touch of his usual humor in that--"and fills me with alleged desire to possess her, but it is sad business for her, isabel. when i think of her i am of the stature of a thief, crouching for concealment." the two in the boat were no longer young. they had never been lovers, but they seemed to understand each other like man and wife. "i am old in knowledge of the world--my life has ground away any charm i might have once possessed. for her sake i hope she will refuse." she perceived he was at the end of his confidence, and she began speaking. "i promised you a story once," she began, "and i'm going to tell it now, and then we'll return to rose." she spoke in a low voice, with a little catching of the breath peculiar to her when deeply moved. it made her voice pulse out like the flow of heavy wine. she faced him in the shadow, but he knew she was not looking at him at all. just how she began he didn't quite hear--perhaps she was a little incoherent. "o those days when i was seventeen!" she went on. "everything was magical. every moonlit night thrilled me with its possibilities. i remember how the boys used to serenade me, and then--i was a mediæval maiden at my barred window, and they were disguised knights seeking me in strange lands by their songs. "you know what i mean. i tingled with the immense joy of it! they sang there in the moonlight, and i tip-toed to the window and peeped out and listened and listened with pictures and pictures tumbling in and out of my head. "of course it was only the inherited feminine rising up in me, as you would say--but it was beautiful. it just glorified that village street, making it the narrow way in a spanish city." there was silence again. mason softly said: "bend your head once more." when the boat swung around and the faint moon and the lights of the town shifted, isabel went on. "one of the boys who came on those midnight serenadings became my hero--remember, i was only seventeen and he was twenty! we used to meet on the street--and oh! how it shook me. my heart fluttered so i could not speak, and at first i had to run past him. after a time i got composed enough to speak to him"-- her voice choked with remembered passion, but after a little pause she went on: "all this, i know as well as you, is absurd"-- "it is very beautiful," he said. "go on!" "he was tall and straight, i remember, with brown hair. he was a workman of some kind. i know he used to show me his powerful hands and say he had tried to get the grime from them. they were splendid, heroic hands to me. i would have kissed them if i dared. it was all incredible folly, but i thought i was loving beneath my station, for i was a little grandee in the town. it pleased me to think i was stooping--defying the laws of my house. he never tried to see me at home--he was good and clean--i can see that now, for i remember just how his frank, clear eyes looked at me. he didn't talk much, he seemed content to just look at me." "well, that went on for weeks. he used to follow me to church, as the boys do in country towns, but i used to go to different places just to see if he would find out and be there to meet me at the door. he never offered to speak to me or take my arm, but he stood to see me go by. do you know, if i go into a country church today, that scent of wilted flowers and linen and mingled perfumes almost makes me weep?" "i understand." her voice was lower when she resumed. "well, then the dreadful, the incredible happened. he did not meet me any more, and just when i was wild with rage and humiliation came the news of his illness--and then i suffered. o god! how i suffered! i couldn't inquire about him--i couldn't see him. i had kept my secret so well that no one dreamed of my loving him so. the girls thought that he followed me and that i despised him, and when they jested about him i had to reply while my heart was being torn out of me. i spent hours in my room writhing, walking up and down, cursing in a girl's way myself and god--i was insane with it all." she drew a long breath but it did not relieve her. her voice was as tense as before when she spoke again. the helmsman leaned to listen, for he could hardly hear. "then one day he died--o that awful day! i sat in my room with the curtains down. i couldn't endure the sunlight. i pretended to be sick. i was numb with agony and yet i could do nothing. i couldn't even send a rose to lay on his coffin. i couldn't even speak his name. i could only lie there like a prisoner gagged and on the rack--to suffer--suffer!" the shadow of the sail covered the woman like a mantle. it was as if the man listening had turned away his face from her sacred passion. she was more composed when she spoke again: "well, it wore itself out after a time. i got hungry and ate once more, though i did not suppose i ever should. i came down to the family a week later, a puzzle to them. they never thought to connect my illness with the death of an obscure machinist, and then in the same way i crept gradually back into society--back into the busy life of a popular young girl. but there was one place where no one ever entered. i never told any one of this before. i tried to tell dr. sanborn about it once, but i felt he might not understand; i tell you because--because you can understand and because you may be influenced by it and understand your wife when she comes to you. these days come to many women at seventeen and, though we can't spare them out of our lives, it doesn't mean disloyalty to our present ideals. i think you understand?" "very well indeed," he said. "i have such memories myself." "then i resolved to be a physician. i felt that he would not have died if he had been treated properly; the connection was obscure but powerful enough to consecrate me to the healing profession. then i met dr. sanborn. i love him and i couldn't live without him, but there is that figure back there--to have him and all that he means go out of my life would take part of my heart away." her voice had appeal in it. "you understand me? it was all clean and innocent, but it was my first passion and i can't spare it. rose may have such a memory. it has nothing to do with today, with her present ideals. it is not disloyalty--it is--" "the love of love," said mason. "i thank you for your trust in me. rose is what she is, not what she has been." and then in perfect stillness the boat swung around and drifted toward the shore, where a ruby lantern was swinging. isabel turned and her voice was tremulous with earnestness. "warren, rose loves you--not as she loved when a girl, but as a woman loves. i think i understand your hesitancy--and i say you are wrong. you need her and you will do her good. you will develop her." "she will suffer through me." "that is a part of development." the boat was nearing the wharf and sanborn's hearty voice came from the shore: "see here! isn't it pretty late for a pair of rheumatic old folks to be out sailing? it's : o'clock." "the breeze failed us," isabel answered, as mason took her hand to help her ashore. "and the night was so beautiful," said mason. before she loosed his hand isabel shook it hard and now mason understood. he mailed the letter that night, and rose held his future in her hand. chapter xxv rose receives a letter rose went directly from that storm to the repose and apparent peace of the country, and it helped her to make a great discovery. she found every familiar thing had taken on a peculiar value--a literary and artistic value. it was all so reposeful, so secure. a red barn set against a gray-green wooded hillside was no longer commonplace. "how pretty!" she thought; "i never noticed that before." a little girl wrapped in a shawl was watching cattle in the field; a dog sat near, his back to the misty drizzle. rose saw it and put herself in the place of that child, chilled and blue of hand, with unfallen tears upon her cheeks. a crow flying by with ringing, rough cry made her blood leap. some cattle streamed up a lane and over a hill; their legs moving invisibly gave them a gliding motion like a vast centipede. some mysterious charm seemed imparted to everything she saw, and, as the familiar lines of the hills began to loom against the sky, she became intolerably eager to see her father and the farm. she hoped it would be a sunny day, but it was raining heavily when she got out at the station. he was there, the dear, sweet, old face smiling, almost tearful. he had an umbrella and couldn't return her hug; but he put his arm about her and hurried her to the carriage, and in a few moments they were spattering up the familiar road. instantly it seemed as if she had never been away. she was a little girl again; the horses shook their heads, impatient at the rain; the pools in the road were green as liquid emerald, and were dimpled by the pelting drops. the wheels flung segments of mud into the air, but the horses drove ahead sullenly, almost desperately, unmindful of the splash and splatter of mud and water. rose took keen delight in it all. she had been shut away from nature so long, it seemed good to get back into even the stern mood of a may storm. the great, reeling masses of gray cloud delighted her, and the ringing cry of frogs seemed delicious orchestration. everything was fresh, clean, almost harsh. how arid and artificial the city life seemed in the freshness of green fields! it was a pleasure to return to the barnyard, to get back into the kitchen where her aunt was phlegmatically working away at supper-getting. she wiped her hands on her apron, and said "how-de-do!" as if rose were a neighbor just dropping in for a call. the life all seemed heroically dull, but the coolness, repose and sanity of nature was elemental, as if she had risen into the rainy sky or sunk into the waters of the ocean. it was deathly still at times. and dark, dark and illimitable and freshly sweet the night shut down over the valley. she went to sleep with the soft roar of the falling rain near her window; and the faint puffing in of the breeze brought to her the delicious smell of the rain-washed leaves, the acrid, pungent odor of poplars, the sweet smell of maples, the fragrance of rich loam--she knew them all. by force of contrast she thought of mason and his life in the city. the roar of traffic; the thunder of great presses; the nights at the opera or the theater, all had enormous weight and value to her, but how remote it all was! in the country the city seemed unreal; in the city the country seemed impossible. she awoke at the cry of a jay in the maples, and then as she listened she heard a mourning-dove sob from the distance. robins were laughing merrily, an oriole whistled once and flew away, and hark! yes, a thrush was singing, sitting high in some tree-top, she knew. the rain was over; the valley was flooded with sunshine. o, so beautiful!--flooded with light like the love of god. she sprang up with joyous energy. life's problem was not without solution if she could live--both city and country, too. she felt her joy of the country doubled by her winter in the city--this day was made marvelous by that storm on the lake. rhymes grew in her mind upon subjects hitherto untouched by her literary perception. things she had known all her life, familiar plants, flowers, trees, etc., seemed touched all at once by supernatural radiance. the clouds on the hills, the buzz of bees in the clover, the sabre swing of poplar trees against the sky, moved her to song, and she wrote daily with marvelous ease. she flung herself prone on the bank by the spring, and strove to mix and be one with the wind and the trees. she thought of her childish crooning over carl that day his head lay in her lap, and its significance came to her and voiced itself in music. she traced out every path where her feet had trod as a child, and the infinite significance and terror and high beauty of life and death came upon her. she seemed to summon up and analyze all her past, as if she were about to end one life and begin another. these wonderful moods and memories in some unaccountable way co-ordinated themselves in lines of verse, and the restless, vigorous heart of the girl felt the splendid peace which comes when the artist finds at last that art which is verily his. the body of her verse grew, and she longed for mason's opinion upon it, and yet she feared to send it, it seemed so different from other verse. at times she felt its passionate and imaginative quality, and made up selections to send him, but ended always by putting them away again. she had his picture in her room, and sometimes she sat down to write with his sadly inscrutable face before her. she could see in it (as she studied it here in her home) the lines of varied and restless thought which make up the face of a man who largely comprehends american civilization in the light of experience. that face represented to her the highest type of manhood, and something more. it was refined and infinitely subtle compared with the simple, almost ox-like faces of the men about her. it was sad, too, as her father's face in repose was sad, but the sadness was different. there was patient, resigned sadness in her father's eyes and lips; in mason's, bitter, rebellious, perhaps despairing sadness, and something else, too--youth taking hold on the hopelessness of the whole world. and yet she knew how sweetly those lips could smile, and she had felt the gentleness and purity hid in those eyes. he looked at her as no other man looked, without boldness, without uncertainty, clean, manly and just; and still there were those cynical lines about the lips; not deep, but still perceptible. she thought less of his fine, erect bearing, and yet she liked to see him walking down the street. he had physical power and dignity, but his face and eyes were etched in minutest detail upon her brain. the life companionship of such a man came to seem more and more impossible for her to attain to. the common little details of her life seemed to lower her. she fell back into inelegant habits and careless speech, and every time she realized it, it put mason far off and far above her. her verse lost its brilliancy, its buoyancy, and became dark and bitter at times. every night she wondered if she might not hear from him. he had promised to write, and he had hinted at something very important. she knew that she had no definite claim upon him, and yet her last letter had contained one question, not of any importance only as it gave him a chance to reply if he felt like it. then the question came: "what of my winter in the city? what has it done for me? is not life as insoluble as ever--success as far away as ever?" could she live here in the country any easier because of her stay there; did it not, in fact, make life harder? it was in thinking about these things and mason's letter, which did not come, that her new-found rapture in nature began to cool down. she began to spend more time in her room, thinking of him, and wondering what his attitude toward her really was. she had moments at last when his face seemed cynically smiling at her. what did he care for an awkward country girl like her? he pitied her, that was all. he wanted to help her, and had tried, and finding her dull, had given her up and forgotten her. he knew scores of beautiful women, actresses, artists, millionaires' daughters; it was absurd to suppose that a girl from the coolly could be of any special interest to him; and to win his love, that was impossible. she had not the personal vanity which makes so many pretty and brainless women think themselves irresistible to any man, and a fair return for any man's name and fame. her flesh she made little of in the question. she hoped each week for a reply, and in her letters to isabel asked for news about "all friends," meaning one especially. isabel wrote, saying they had invited mr. mason up to stay a few days at their cottage, and that elbert harvey had asked after her, and couldn't she come down? by the middle of july she had begun to pass days without writing at all. when the letter from mason came her father brought it to her with a smile: "guess this is a love-letter; it's a big one!" she took it in her hand, feeling a keen, swift premonition of its importance. it was indeed a heavy letter--almost a packet. she went to her room with it and took a seat by the window, quite deliberately, but her hands shook as she opened the envelope. her senses seemed some way to acquire unnatural keenness, like a scared animal's. she heard every voice about the barnyard, and she felt the wind on her cheek like a live thing beating its slow wings. the letter began simply: "dear miss dutcher: "i must begin by asking pardon for not writing before, but as a matter of fact i have not found this letter easy to compose. it represents a turning point in my life, and contains an important decision, and i have never been less sure of my judgment than now. "this letter may be considered an offer of marriage. it is well to say that now, and then all the things which come after, will be given their proper weight. let me state the debit side of the account first, and if you feel that it is too heavy you can put the letter down and write me a very short answer, and the matter will be ended. "first, i say to you: whoso weds me weds sorrow. i do not promise to make you happy, though i hope my influence will not be always untoward. i cannot promise any of the things husbands are supposed to bring. i cannot promise a home. my own living is precarious, dependent upon my daily grind of newspaper work. for though i hope to achieve a success with my novel, great successes with novels do not mean much money. i do not feel either that i shall ever be free from money cares; luxury and i are to continue strangers. "i cannot promise to conform to your ways, nor to bend to your wishes, though i will try to do so. i cannot promise to assume cordial relations with your relatives, nor accept your friendships as binding upon me. "i cannot promise to be faithful to you until death, but i shall be faithful so long as i fill the relation of husband to you. i shall not lead a double life, or conceal from you any change in my regard toward you. if at any time i find a woman whom i feel i should live with, rather than with you, i shall tell you of her with perfect frankness. i _think_ i shall find you all-sufficient, but i do not know. men and women change, grow weary of things, of bonds, of duties. it may be that i shall become and continue the most devoted of husbands, but i cannot promise it. long years of association develop intolerable traits in men and women very often. "on the other hand, let me say i exact nothing from you. i do not require you to cook for me, nor keep house for me. you are mistress of yourself; to come and go as you please, without question and without accounting to me. you are at liberty to cease your association with me at any time, and consider yourself perfectly free to leave me whenever any other man comes with power to make you happier than i. "i want you as comrade and lover, not as subject or servant, or unwilling wife. i do not claim any rights over you at all. you can bear me children or not, just as you please. you are a human soul like myself, and i shall expect you to be as free and as sovereign as i, to follow any profession or to do any work which pleases you. it is but just to say that i have never been a man of loose habits. no woman has any claim upon me for deed or word. i have thought at various times that i could marry this woman or that woman, but i have never before made a proposition of marriage to any woman. "i have written you in good, set terms what you may expect of me. i am not a demonstrative man by nature, and my training from childhood has made me saving of words of endearment. my love for you must be taken largely for granted after it is once stated, for i regard the word 'love' as a jewel not to be carelessly tossed from hand to hand. "doubtlessly i shall make a dull companion--that i cannot judge for myself." the letter concluded with this characteristic touch; she seemed to hear his voice as she read it: "i have written frankly because i believed it would prejudice you in my favor. had i believed otherwise, doubtless i should have written in terms of flattery and deceit, for of such is man when seeking woman in marriage. "if you return the affirmative answer i shall be very happy to come up and spend the rest of my vacation at your father's home--provided it is agreeable to you." rose sat rigidly still in her chair, her hands in her lap, holding the letter. it had come again, this question of marriage, and this time it appealed to her whole nature--to her intellectual part as well as to her material self; uttered this time by a voice which had no tremor in it. how strange it all was! how different from the other proposals she had received; apparently cold and legal, yet under the lines she felt something deep and manly and passionate, because she was only a coulé girl, and he was a man of the great intellectual world; a man who "molded public opinion" by the power of his editorial pen. he was greater than that. in his presence you felt him to be a man of national reputation living quietly under an assumed name. there rose a great pride in her heart. he had selected her from among the women of the world! he loved her so much he had written her this strange letter, which plead for her under its rigid order of words. she held the letter to her lips as if to get its secret meaning so and then she dropped it as if it were a husk. no matter what it said, she felt the spirit of the man. she wrote a few lines and sealed them quickly. then she fell into thought upon the terms of his letter. she hardly comprehended the significance of the minor statements, so filled was she with the one great fact, he wished her to be his wife! she was poor, unknown, and yet he had chosen her! there was something sad in the letter, too--like his face it was inscrutable, intricate, but (she believed) noble in intention. the freedom of action which he claimed for himself did not trouble her, for she felt his love beneath it. his word "comrade" pleased her, too. it seemed to be wholesome and sweet, and promised intellectual companionship never before possible to her. o, to be the wife of such a man! to have his daily help and presence; it was wonderful, it could not be true! yet there lay the letter in her lap, and there the firm, calm, even signature. she rose to her feet and her heart dilated with pride, and her head was that of a newly crowned princess. oh, the great splendid world out there! she took up her letter suddenly and went downstairs and out into the yard in search of her father. he was sitting by the bees, with dreamy eyes. he spent a great deal of his time there. "father, i want you to hitch kitty to the buggy for me." "why, of course. where are you goin', rose?" "i'm going to the siding to post a letter. o, pappa john!" she cried suddenly, putting her arms round him, "i'm going to be married." john did not instantly comprehend her passion; he was slower to move, but he said: "why, rosie! when? who to?" "to a man in chicago, mr. warren mason, a great editor. i'm just writing to him to come." john began to feel the solemnity of the thought. "does he live in chicago?" "yes." she understood his thought. "but we'll come and see you, summers, just the same, pappa john." "well, i'll take the letter down." "no, i must take it myself," she said, smilingly, holding the letter behind her like a child. there was something fine in carrying the letter to the office herself. it seemed to hasten it. the horse was spirited and carried her at a steady swift trot up hill and down, and the railway track was soon in sight. suddenly an idea seized her; why not telegraph her answer. they might suspect him to be her lover, but what did she care now? she penned this message: "come up tomorrow if you can, please. rose." but afterward, as she approached the office, she shrank from handing it in. it seemed to her too plainly a love message. she mailed her letter and fell to calculating when it would reach him. he could not possibly come till the second day, whereas if she telegraphed he might arrive in the morning. this thought strengthened her resolution; going over to the window she placed the message firmly before the operator, who knew her and admired her deeply. "please send that at once, mr. bingham." the operator smiled and bowed, and when he read the message he looked up at her keenly, but did not smile. "any answer?" he asked. "no, probably not," she replied. "will it go right out?" "immediately." as she turned away to ride home her soul took wing. a marvelous elevation and peace came upon her. it was done. life held more than promise now, it contained certainties. her chosen one of israel was coming! chapter xxvi mason as a lover the telegram came to mason as he sat on the porch of the herrick cottage. he read it, and his eyes smiled, but his feeling was not one of amusement. the significance of that impulsive message struck deep, and his blood responded to it as if it were an embrace. it settled all doubt in his mind concerning her. she was as free and self-reliant as he thought her, and the severe terms of his proposal had not repelled her, and yet that she loved him in a right human and very passionate way did not seem to him possible. he had, also, other misgivings. he wished he had delineated more fully in his letter the negative side of his character. "she is young and beautiful," he thought, "and will want to see life. she will value social affairs--i am done with them. she will want words of tender protestation, flattery perhaps, which i cannot give. "my habits are fixed. i like my silent pipe at night after dinner. i shall undoubtedly get more and more disinclined to social duties as time goes on. "in ten years i shall be forty-eight years old, an old man, when she is just in her splendid june season. she will find the difference between our ages wider than now. she will be a wife. i can free her when she asks it, but i cannot give her back her sweet, superb girlhood. i can give her perception and comprehension of the world and of life, but i cannot make her young again. i may die after a few years, leaving her a mother with a hazardous future. then she will be doubly cursed. "again, this marriage may ruin and interrupt her career. with some women marriage, especially maternity, seems to take away their power as artists, and to turn them into cooks and nurses; meritorious vocations of course, but----" all night long he alternately mused and dozed upon the problem. he roused up at early daylight with a feeling of doom upon him. he had made a mistake. he was not fitted to be a husband--he was a poor thing, at best, who had not had energy enough to get out of a groove nor to demand adequate pay for grinding in his groove. he lacked "push," and had dreamed away the best years of his life, at least such parts of the years as he had saved from the merciless drive of his paper. he was pulp, squeezed dry. he groaned, and a curse came upon his lips, and his forehead knit into a tangle of deep lines. his paper had used him. it had sucked the blood of his heart. the creative energy of his brain had gone into the impersonal columns of the editorial page--to what end? to the end that the evening star publishing company should be rated high in bradstreet. had any human being been made better by anything he had written in those columns? politics? good god! he had sold his soul, his blood, the grace of his limbs, the suppleness of his joints, the bloom of his enthusiasms, to put this or that damned party into power. and now, when a beautiful young woman, singing her way to fame, had sent for him, he must go to her, cynical, thin-haired, stiff in joints, bent in shoulders and reeking with the smell of office life and, worst of all, worked out, his novel not yet written, and his enthusiasm turned to indifference and despair. the problem of the age that morning made him savage. he looked out of the window at the farmhouses gleaming in the early light, at the smoke curling up into the still air, at the men going to milk the cows-- "the damn fools!" he said in his heart. "they don't know enough to vegetate any more than i had sense to know i was becoming a machine. rot and rot! so we go like leaves to the muck-heap." the porter rushed in and shook him. "almos' to bluff siding, sah." this put a little resolution into his blood, and he dressed rapidly, with little thought on anything else. once or twice he looked out at the misty blue hills, cool and fresh with recent rains. as the porter came to get his grip a few minutes later, mason wondered how he should meet her, with a hand-shake or a kiss? how would she meet him? as the train slowed down he saw her at the platform. she sat in a carriage waiting for him. he had one flashing thought: "there sits my wife!" it startled him. the tremendous significance of that phrase made his brain dizzy for a moment. she was dressed trimly, he noticed, as he came toward her, and she held her horse firmly--he liked her for that, it showed self-mastery. as for him, he felt more uncertainty of footing than ever before in his life, and tried to throw off the stoop in his shoulders. as he came forward, she flushed, but her steady eyes met his unwaveringly. he looked into their clear obscurity of depth, wherein were purity and unworldly womanly ways. she held out her hand, firm and strong, and he took it in his. outwardly it was merely a friendly greeting, yet something subtler than light came from her to him. he did not speak for an instant, then he said: "this is good of you! i did not expect this great pleasure." her voice trembled as she said: "i wanted to be the first to greet you, and besides, papa wouldn't know you." he smiled for the first time. "that's true. but it's very early--quite in the small hours." "oh, that's nothing; i'm a farmer's girl, you know. but put your valise in, we must be off." how strong and supple she looked! and how becoming her silk waist and straw hat! she could drive, too. some way she seemed quite another sort of person here in her own land and in her own carriage. she was so much more composed. "she has imagination," he repeated to himself. they turned into the road before he spoke again. "so this is your 'coolly'?" "no, this is our valley. the coolly is over there where you see that cloud shadow sliding down." he looked about slowly at the hills and fields. "it's very fine; much finer than oconomowoc and geneva." "we like it ... papa and i." they were both talking around the bush, as the saying goes, but he finally said: "i was very glad to receive your telegram. am i to take it as an affirmative answer?" she said with effort: "i wanted you to see how poor and humble we all are before--before i--" he studied her profile. her lips quivered, and a tear glistened through the veil. "on my part," he said, "i regretted that i did not further set forth my general cussedness and undesirability.--how well you drive!" he said, by way of relieving the stress of the moment. he took command now, and there were no more tender allusions. he sniffed the smell of the grass and the way-side trees, and remarked upon the cattle, and inquired the names of several birds whose notes reached across the field. "do you know, i'm no wild lover of the country, and i don't admire the country people unreservedly. there are exceptions, of course--but my experience with them has not been such as to make them heroic sufferers, as the new school of fiction sets 'em forth. they are squalid enough and poor enough, heaven knows, but it is the squalor of piracy--they do as well as i should under the same circumstances, no doubt." rose looked at him narrowly, as if to find his real thought. he stopped abruptly at her glance. "i beg your pardon for boring you; but these disagreeable phases of my character should be known to you. i'm full of whims and notions, you'll find." she looked away and a moment later said: "there is our farm; that house in the grove is ours." "cattle i hate, so i hope your father will not expect me to be interested in stock." this was the first time he had mentioned her father, and it moved her unaccountably. it would be so dreadful if he should not understand her father. his perverse attitude toward her and toward the country had brought her from exalted singleness of emotion down to a complexity of questionings and forebodings. as they whirled in the yard mason saw a new house of the ambitious pork-pie order, standing in a fairly well-kept sward, with a background of barns, corncribs, pigsties and beehives. a well-to-do farmstead of the more fortunate sort, and the thought that the man coming out of the barn to meet them was to be his father-in-law struck him like a gust of barnyard air. really could it be that he had made this decision? as the man came nearer he appeared a strong-armed, gentle-faced farmer of sixty. his eyes were timid, almost appealing. his throat was brown and wrinkled as leather. his chin beard was a faded yellow-grey, and his hands were nobbed and crooked in the fingers. he peered at mason through dimmed eyes. "father," said rose, and her voice trembled a little, "this is mr. mason." john dutcher put up his hand heartily. "how do you do, sir?" his timid smile touched mason, but there was something else in the man which made him return the hand-clasp. "i am glad to see you, mr. dutcher," he said, and his tone was so genuine it brought a gush of tears to the daughter's eyes. her lover understood her father after all. "won't you 'light out, sir?" continued john with elaborate hospitality. "well, yes, i think i will," said mason, and rose's spirits shook off their cowls. suddenly she heard every bird singing, the thrush in the poplar top, the catbirds in the willows, the robin on the lawn; the sun flooded the world with magical splendor. it was morning in the world and morning in her life, and her lover was walking up the path by her side. it was splendid beyond belief to show him to his room, to bring him water and towels and to say from the doorway, with a smile: "breakfast is ready!" the picture that she made lingered pleasantly on mason's interior eye. she was so supple of form and so radiant of color, and so palpitant with timid joy. she sat alone at the table when he came out. she explained as she showed him his seat, "father and my aunt had breakfast long ago." mrs. diehl brought the coffee in and bowed awkwardly to mason. the whole thing seemed like a scene in a play to him. it was charming, all the same, to sit alone at the table with such a girl; it was just the least bit exciting. his hands shook a little, he noticed. as he took his cup of coffee from her he said whimsically: "i expect to wake up soon." "does it seem like a dream to you too?" "well, it isn't my everyday life, i must confess." to her he seemed handsomer and more refined than in the city. he seemed simpler, too, though he was still complex enough to keep her wondering. the slope of his shoulders and the poise of his head were splendid to her. it could not be possible that he was here to see her; to be served by her; to spend the days with her; to be her husband if she should say so. and yet she retained her dignity. she did not grow silly nor hysterical as a lesser woman might have done. she was tremulous with happiness and wonder, but she sat before him mistress of her hands and voice. her very laughter pleased him; if she had giggled--heavens, if she had giggled! john also went busily, apparently calmly, about his work. mason was pleased at that; it showed astonishing reserve in the man. again that keen, sweet feeling of companionship--wifehood--came to rose as they walked out side by side into the parlor. he had come to her; that was the marvelous thing! she was doing wifely things for him; it was all more intimate, more splendid than she thought! they sat down in the best room and faced each other. it was their most potential moment. breakfast was eaten and the day was before them, and an understanding was necessary. "now, i can't allow you to be hasty," mason said. "i'll tell you what i think you had better do; defer your answer until two weeks from today, when i shall return to the city. that will give us time to talk the matter over, and it will give you time to repent." a little shadow fell over her and the sunlight was not quite so brilliant. the incomprehensible nature of the man came to her again, and he seemed old, old as a granite crag, beyond song, beyond love, beyond hope. then he smiled: "well, now, i'm ready to go see the world; any caves, any rocking boulders, any water tower?" she took up the cue for gaiety: "no, but i might take you to see the cemetery, that is an appropriate sunday walk; all the young people walk there." "the cemetery! i'm a believer in crematories. i'll tell you what we'll do. after you've hung out the wash-boiler to dry we'll go down under the trees, and i'll listen to some of your verse. now, that is a tremendous concession on my part. i hope you value it to the full." "i do, indeed." "you do? good! we'll put the matter in movement at once." "the dew is still on the grass," she said warningly. "so it is. i thank you for remembering my growing infirmities. well, let's go out and see the pigs. as i told you, i hate cattle and swine, they act out so frankly the secret vices of man--but, never mind, i'll go out and have it out with your father." the moment he began in that tone she was helpless. they moved out into the barnyard, but john was not in sight. "i guess he's with his bees," rose said. "he likes to sit out there and watch them when he is resting." they peered over the fence, and their eyes took in a picture they will never forget while they live. john dutcher sat before his bees in the bloom of the clover, his head bowed in his hands. he was crying for his lost daughter. there came a gripping pain in the girl's throat, the hot tears rushed to her eyes, and she cried in a voice of remorseful agony: "father--pappa john!" he lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes dim with tears, his lips quivering. the girl rushed through the gate, and mason turned and walked away like a man discovered thieving from an altar. conclusion the wind in the treetops mason freshened magically under her sweet and self-contained companionship. she did not coddle him, nor bore him by attentions, but seemed to do the right thing instinctively. she assumed command over him in certain ways--that is, she insisted on his taking long walks and drives with her--though he sturdily refused to climb hills. "bring me to them gradually," he said, "for i am from egypt." one sunday afternoon he consented to try an easy one and they started out--she in radiant, laughing exultation, he in pretended dark foreboding of the outcome. she led the way with swift, steady swing of skirts, her smiling face a challenge to him when he fell too far behind. he never ceased to admire her powerful, decisive movement and her radiant color, though he said nothing about it to her. she stopped at a spring which came silently to light beneath an overhanging sandstone. there was no dipper, and rose, with a new daring, dropped on her knees and dipped some of the cool, sweet water in her palm. "do you thirst, sir guy?" he kneeled beside her with a comical groan, and drank from her hand. "thanks, a sweeter draught from fairer hand was never quaffed." rose was highly elated at the success of her trick. she dipped another palm full. he shook his head. "with your permission i'll use my hat brim." "i'll show you how to do it," she said. she rose and leaped the little stream, and flung herself down full length on the ground, and resting her palms on two flat stones, she drank from the pool, like an indian. "there!" she cried triumphantly. "that's the way to drink. all my life i've done this way at this spring--when there wasn't anyone to see." mason felt a wild charm in this. most other women would have tumbled to pieces doing such a thing, while she sprang up a little flushed, but with no other sign of exertion. there was something primeval, elemental, in being thus led by a beautiful woman through coverts of ferns and hazel. every shadow seemed to wash away some stain or scar of the city's strife. he grew younger. "i almost like this sort of thing," he said. they came at last to the smooth slope of the peak where grass stood tall in bunches on a gravelly soil, and wild flowers of unusual kinds grew. as they mounted now, the landscape broke over the tree tops, and the valleys curved away into silent blue mist. on every side low wooded ridges lay, with farms spread like rugs half-way up their deep green clearings. on the further slope a pasture came nearly to the summit, and the tinkle of a bell among the bushes sounded a pastoral note. a field of timothy farther on to the left glowed with a beautiful pink-purple bloom. "isn't it beautiful," asked rose. mason dropped full length on the grass before replying. "yes, it is lovely--perfectly pastoral. worthy a poem." "i've written three, right on this spot," she said a little shyly. he seemed interested. "have you? haven't one with you?" "no." "always go armed. now here's a golden opportunity gone to waste." she smiled shyly. "i can repeat one though." "can you? better yet! recite one." she sat down near him, but not too near, and began in a soft hesitant voice to repeat a poem which was full of feminine sadness and wistfulness. as she went on mason turned his face toward her, and her eyes fell and her voice faltered. "that's glorious!" he said. "go on." the wind swept up the slope and through the leaning white bodies of the birches with a sadness like the poem. the wild barley bowed and streamed in the wind like an old man's beard; the poem struck deep into secret moods, incommunicable in words--and music came to carry the words. the girl's eyes were sweet and serious and the lovely lines of her lips shifted and wavered. mason suddenly reached out and took the girl's right hand. her voice died out and her eyes met his. he drew her hand toward him and laid his lips upon it. "you're a poet," he said. "you have found your voice, and i--i love you because you are a poet and because you are a beautiful woman." the touch of his bearded lips upon her hand was the event of her life, and the whole world reshaped itself. his praise of her poem, her victory over him as a critic was great, but his final words drowned in fierce light the flame of her art's enthusiasm. once more a man's voice came to her, filled with entreaty and command, but in this case she had no reservations. it was well, it was inevitable, and it was glorious to set her face toward wifehood and fame with such a man as companion, friend and lover. a couple of weeks later, mason came down from his room with a grim look on his face. he stepped out on the porch and stood there feeling the change in the air. the summer was over. rose came out, and he put his arm about her. "hark!" he commanded. "do you hear the wind in the tree-tops? it brings me the roar of the city this morning. i hear the grind of cars, the roar of mills, the throb of presses; the city calls me and i must go. my vacation is over. i must say good-by tonight." "it's very beautiful up here now," she said a little wistfully. "the sumac is beginning to turn and the hills are like jewels." "oh yes, it is beautiful," he said smiling a little. "but down there life is. infinite novelty, ceaseless change. as you love the country, so i love the city. it is a greater pleasure to me to meet men than trees, and concerts are more than winds in the pines. artist souls, poets, people who do and think, are there, and so i must go." "when shall i go?" she asked. "when you please," he said. "i have no commands. you are perfectly free to do as you like. i need you always now." "then i will go tonight," she said firmly. he turned his eyes upon her in a look she never forgot. "my dearest girl, do you realize what you are doing? do you realize that you are entering upon a problematical line of action--that you are inviting pain and sorrow and care, that you are leaving girlhood and leisure behind--that you are entering gates that never swing outward. do you know this--once more and finally, do you realize all this?" she stood before him stronger than he; he felt it. she knew him at last since that touch of his lips to her arm, since that look in his eyes--and she said: "i realize it all, and i choose it."