DURING the period from
1853 to 1857, when the country was on the crest of a wave of
prosperity, I followed in the wake of expanding opportunity. Lumber
was in demand everywhere. Prices were high, and the industry, which
was in its infancy in the Middle West but a few years before, began
to thrive and develop by leaps and bounds. So great was the need for
men who knew the practical side of lumbering that during this time,
and for several years before, I received numerous tempting proposals
to take charge of properties at Muskegon, White Lake, Manistee,
Marquette, even Oconto and elsewhere, all of which I declined. In
most instances, however, I procured men who were able to measure up
to the requirements of these places, many of whom were successful
and became prominently identified with the communities which grew up
around them.
Of late it has become
the custom to accentuate even the measure of prosperity we enjoyed
and, by way of comparison, to regard the high cost of living as a
very recent development. Such was not altogether the case.
Provisions were higher in the fifties than at any time since. My old
account books show that the average price of pork was from
twenty-five to thirty-five dollars a barrel, spring wheat flour from
six to nine dollars a barrel, calico from twelve to fifteen cents a
yard. The price of sugar was twice as much as it is at present and
other staple commodities were proportionately higher. Most of the
added cost of living arises from the addition to the list of
household and personal supplies of articles which we regarded us
luxuries and had no place in our manner of living but which,
according to the extravagant view of the present time, are looked
upon as necessities.
We did enjoy a decided advantage,
however, in the low price of fish, which were very plentiful. In the
forties and later there were several thousand fishermen, who used
commonly Mackinaw boats, around Green Bay settlements, along the
straits of Mackinac and in the vicinity of the islands in this
region. The Narrows at the entrance of Bay de Noquette was a
favorite fishing ground for trout. It was said that one Edward Light
caught three hundred of them in a single day, fishing with a hook
through a hole in the ice. Whitefish I have purchased for our
lumbering establishments for two cents per pound by the ton,
delivered at the company store. The supply of them in the northern
waters of the great lakes appeared to be inexhaustible, but with the
advent of pound nets they began to dwindle, until there is now but
one where there were thousands before. Sometimes they were so
numerous in the rapids on the Escanaba River that the mills were
shut down to enable the men to make a catch. Trout also were
abundant in the small lakes and streams, but they have decreased in
numbers as the fishermen have penetrated the out-of-the-way places.
Mr. Sinclair having blocked my scheme of
building the plank road from Negaunee to Marquette by the purchase
of David Langley's interest in my logging outfit, which he doubtless
conceived to be to my own advantage, I resumed again the business of
looking up and entering pine lands, for which purpose he desired
mainly to retain my services. Men who had the experience and
equipment to do this were rare in the upper peninsula, and at this
time the scramble for accessible timber was much more keen than it
had been a few years before. The tracts most advantageously situated
along the lower reaches of the rivers and streams emptying into
Green Bay had been generally taken up and it was necessary to
penetrate farther into the depths of the forests.
Searching out pine timber,— the hard
woods and lesser growths were of little value,— and running a. line
to ascertain the location was no small task. Most of the mill owners
were hard put to it to find men to do this kind of work and to enter
the land at the land office. The difficulty was increased by the
unscrupulousness of the recorders employed by the federal
government. It was the rule rather than the exception that the
explorer who had undergone privation and hardship to find the
timber, when he came to enter it at the land office was met with the
statement of the recorder that it had already been entered. This, of
course, was not true. The recorder had a list of willing "dummies"
always at hand who were put down as the purchasers of the property,
which was afterward sold at a neat profit to himself and his
co-conspirators who supplied the money. The foundations of not a few
American fortunes were laid in this reprehensible fashion.
About this time the State of Michigan
had granted large tracts to the "Soo" Land Company for canal
purposes, and it was the aim of Mr. Sinclair to look these over
before the transfer of title was actually made. I hurried to the
Menominee River to look over some lands and enter them at the
Menasha land office,— the first to be entered in that region,-- and
then to the "Soo" to look over those involved in the canal grant.
In the meantime, Messrs. Wright and
Holbrook, of Nalima, were still desirous of having me take an
interest with them, and after my return from Wisconsin it was my
purpose to go to Nahma to discuss terms with them. The wind,
however, was contrary and after waiting for some time in vain for
favorable weather, I boarded my own vessel, the "Cleopatra," and
went to Milwaukee. I wrote to Mr. Wright, declining his proposition,
and recommended for the place Jefferson S. Bagley, a nephew of Mr.
Sinclair and a very capable man, who took charge of the business. He
arrived at Nahina with a number of men and women and winter supplies
on the schooner ''Juliet Patten," on December 11, 1853. Because of
the lateness of the season, and the lack of tugs to break the ice in
the harbor, the journey was hazardous but was completed without
mishap. In
October I left for the "Soo" to enter the lands for the N. Ludington
Company. I went by rail to Detroit and there met Robert Graveraet,
who played a conspicious part in the development of the upper
peninsula as the agent for eastern copper interests, and who first
pitched his tent in the wilderness on the site of the present city
of Marquette. He informed me that a boat was to leave for the "Soo"
the following morning on which I secured a reservation in the after
cabin on the main deck. On the same vessel, the "Detroit," of the
Ward line, the first party of workmen who were to dig the canal had,
with their families, taken passage. They were all Irish. At this
time the people of no other nation seemed to have acquired
proficiency in excavation work of this character, and the emigrants
from the Emerald Isle, who were especially adept in the use of the
shovel, scattered over the United States, and other countries to a
smaller extent, wherever construction work was being carried on.
They built the railroads in France and in this country, dug canals
in Pennsylvania and were exclusively engaged for the work about to
be undertaken at the "Soo."
We ran into a gale on Lake Huron and
were somewhat apprehensive, because the boat was old and said to be
overloaded, but weathered the storm safely and arrived at our
destination on November 3, when the first shovelful of soil was
taken out of the canal, which was opened in September, 1835. One of
my fellow passengers on this trip was Mr. Duncan whom I had not seen
since I made the futile contract with him for the construction of
the plank road.
After entering lands at the "Soo" I
returned to Milwaukee, setting sail on the steamer "Garden City."
This ill-fated vessel, running in opposition to the Ward Line
between Chicago and the "Soo," was lost the following year between
Mackinac and Detour, on what has since been called the Garden City
Reef, in commemoration of the disaster. I remember my voyage on the
boat with peculiar distinctness because of an incident which
occurred at Beaver Island, where we stopped to take on wood.
This community had been established at
an early day by the Mormons, at the head of whom was John Strang, a
rather extraordinary figure in this period of Michigan history,
known as ''King" Strang to his faithful subjects. The colony had
removed some years before from Rochester, near Kenosha, Wisconsin,
through which I had passed in 1846, to Beaver Island, where they
were held in great awe by the people of the surrounding country and
by mariners on the hikes, who believed that they not only followed a
strange creed, but were guilty of outrageous if not criminal
practices. This idea, needless to say, was without basis and was due
to misleading and malicious rumors to which the yarn-spinning
sailors, I have no doubt, added as they congregated about the stoves
in their winter haunts when navigation was closed. The Mormons were
really a hard-working and patient people who did not molest their
neighbors; but the fishermen and wood-choppers who competed with
them, some of whom were fugitives from the eastern states, were very
bitter and spread reports that they had killed a number of persons
and that one or two vessels said to have been wrecked in the
vicinity of Beaver Island had really been seized by them, the crews
murdered and the cargoes taken as plunder.
We arrived at Beaver Island in the
evening with only two or three passengers aboard. While we were
negotiating for the purchase of wood, "King" Strang came aboard
apparently to make a friendly visit. Captain Squires, who had heard
the evil reports about the Mormons, had misgivings about their
leader and was prepared to keep on the alert until he was out of
sight. Strang, however, showed no disposition to leave in a
hurry—very naturally, as he was waiting until the wood had been
loaded. Two of us kept watch with the captain, and to break our
vigil refreshed ourselves at midnight with roasted potatoes and
buttermilk in his cabin. At that time Strang was still aboard.
Captain Squires then decided to try a plan I had suggested to be rid
of him. He bargained with the Mormon leader for twenty more cords of
wood, and, having arrived at an agreement, said that as his men were
tired and it was necessary to make repairs to one of the wheels he
would not load it until the following day. Strang left the boat to
make preparations and the captain stealthily slipped off his lines
at three o'clock in the morning and headed for Milwaukee. Captain
Squires, who had been in command of the steamer "Arrow," the loss of
which on the Hudson, near West Point, in 1845 was one of the great
catastrophes of the period, afterward managed the Madison House in
Chicago for many years.
After my arrival at Milwaukee the N.
Ludington Company entered into contracts with the Illinois Central
Railroad for the production of square timber for the breakwater on
lake front at Chicago. How much this improvement was needed can
scarcely be conceived by those who know only the expansive stretch
of parking and intricate web of railroad tracks faced by the huge
buildings of Michigan Avenue of later years. Before it was built the
waves driven by a northeast gale sometimes lapped the doorsteps of
the houses, many of them wooden structures, which bordered this
thoroughfare. The city, too, has since stealthily encroached upon
the water. In 1848, at the foot of Lake Street, a point now far
inland, we lost a vessel which was blown ashore on April 22, the
crew saving themselves by jumping from the jib boom to the sandy
beach. In other respects also, far from being the metropolis it has
since become, it was not an attractive city. Planking took the place
of pavement. High wooden sidewalks, necessities in view of the boggy
nature of the soil, lined Randolph and other streets, and oftentimes
when I drove from our lumber yard on the West Side my horse plodded
through a batter of mud in sections where the din of traffic now
echoes among the tall buildings.
The construction of the breakwater was
an important undertaking measured according to the standards of the
time. To carry the timber we built a vessel of special design,
called the "Alexander Mitchell," at Port Huron, with ports so
arranged that the timber could be hoisted into the hold. The brig
"C. I. Hutchins" was also purchased and equipped in the same manner.
At this time the "donkey" engine was unknown and horses were carried
on the decks of vessels to do the hoisting, a very cumbersome
arrangement, as might be imagined. In a gale, when footing was
uncertain, the poor animals were thrown and lashed to the deeks, a
practice which led to the use by sailors of the phrase: "Six men and
two two horses before the mast." The donkey engine did not come into
use until oil was discovered. William B. Ogden purchased thirteen of
them at an auction at Corry, Pennsylvania, and sold them to
contractors who used them for driving piles at Chicago and other
ports on the lakes.
Some of the timber used on the
breakwaters at Chicago, Sturgeon River and other harbors on the
lakes we cut on Sand Point, the site of the present city of
Escanaba, but the greater portion of it was taken from the forests
along the Menomence River. The Company, after my return from the "Soo,"
had made arrangements for mc to take a crew of men to the latter
region. We left Milwaukee oil vessel laden with supplies and arrived
at the mouth of the river on November 11, 1853, at five o'clock in
the morning. I
piloted the ship to its anchorage and after unloading the supplies
and logging equipment went ten miles up the river and established
the first camp. Later I established two more and during the winter
of 1853 and 1854 directed the operations of eighty men who made
timber thirteen inches square which was counter-hewed to twelve
inches in Chicago. The minimum length was twenty-five feet but much
of it was more than thirty and some sticks were seventy-five feet.
In addition to directing the work of the timber crews and measuring
timber I did much exploring. For twenty-five nights during the
winter, which was un- usually severe, my brother and I slept in the
open forest without shelter while on our expeditions. For three days
during a cold wave the thermometer fell to thirty-five degrees below
zero and at Green Bay city it was said to have been forty below.
Three of my men were badly frozen.
After several months of hard work I took
passage on June 13, 1854, from Menominee to Chicago, on one of the
vessels, the "Alexander Mitchell," which was laden with square
timber. On the same boat was Mr. Duncan, who had come down from Lake
Superior in the latter part of March. He was dissatisfied with the
progress of the work on the plank road at Marquette and, old as he
was, had also conceived the plan of erecting a sawmill. We discussed
both undertakings and reached an agreement,— a very satisfactory one
from my point of view,— by which I was to take a very large interest
in and to have full charge of the business. Assuming that the plan
this time would be carried out I even went to the extent of making
arrangements to send cattle, equipment and supplies, together with a
number of men, from Escanaba to Marquette as soon as I had completed
my work on the Menominee.
Some time after my arrival in Chicago, I
went to see Mr. Ely, Mr. Duncan's son-in-law, who lived on Park Row,
at that time the fashionable residence section of the city. He
informed me that Mr. Duncan was ill but would see me some time
during the afternoon. The visit was the last I paid the
indefatigable pioneer. As I sat by his bedside he informed me that
he had been obliged to abandon the project of building the mill
because the land grant to the Northwestern Railroad, which had been
changed from the western to the eastern portion of Delta and
Marquette counties, had covered the timber he intended to purchase.
He had written to me, he said, to this effect but the letter had
never reached its destination. So ended my second attempt to
transfer my activities to the Lake Superior region. Before I left
Mr. Duncan expressed the hope that he would be himself again in a
few days but, this did not come to pass. Although he lived for a
number of years afterward at Marquette he never fully recovered from
his illness and the projects he conceived were never carried out.
On the day after this visit, as I was
about to leave for Milwaukee with my brother, S. M. Stephenson and
two or three other men, Samuel Hamilton, the owner of the property
at Cedar River, hailed me in the omnibus and persuaded me to remain
over for a day. With him I went to the office of Holt and Mason, who
owned the mill at Masonville, north of Gladstone, Michigan, and
within the hour I had made a. contract with Mr. R.D. Holt, the
Chicago manager of the firm, to supply them with all the logs
required by their plant. They were also in need of some one to
survey timber lands and on my arrival at Milwaukee I sent my brother
with several men to Masonville for this purpose while I myself went
on to the "Soo" to examine the maps at the land office to ascertain
which lands were vacant and could be entered.
I returned to Chicago by way of Detroit
for a consultation with Mr. Holt. The day of my arrival, July 7,
1854, was one not easily to be forgotten. It was marked by the death
of one hundred and thirty-nine people, among them Mr. Ely, Mr.
Duncan's son-in-law, victims of the cholera. The fear of the
epidemic, which assumed the proportions of a plague, was upon us all
and the city was overshadowed with gloom. For five years it claimed
thousands of victims in the Middle West, taking heaviest toll of the
towns and cities.
Three or four days elapsed before one of
our boats left for the mills, during which time I remained at the
Briggs house. When I did go aboard the vessel I became ill, having
all the symptoms of the dread disease, and for the first and only
time in my life I began to fear that the shadow of death was upon
me. None the less I was not willing just then to abandon the
struggle. The chances being against me I was willing to compromise
with fate if it spared me until we had passed Death's Door so that I
might be taken to Escanaba where my family awaited me and I
struggled as valiantly as I could against the pain which beset me. A
money belt in which I carried four or five hundred dollars in gold
and which caused much discomfort I turned over to the captain.
Crouching beside the bed in my cabin I gathered what little power of
resistance remained to me to hold off what seemed to be the
approaching end.
Not long afterward the pain diminished,
the crisis passed and the illness disappeared almost as suddenly and
unaccountably as it came. By the time we arrived at Masonville I was
myself again except for the weakness due to the ordeal through which
I had passed. Without tarrying to recuperate I put my knapsack on my
back and went at once with my men into the woods. In two days I had
regained my strength and worked so energetically at running lines
that my companions were hard put to it to keep up with me. During
this period my food consisted of pork and dry bread. For three
months I continued my explorations for timber for Holt and Mason
making rapid progress because of my experience and knowledge of the
country. About
this time my operations were begun on a very large scale. In October
I entered into a contract to supply logs to the mills on Day's and
Rapid rivers and purchased all of the sleighs, teams, and camp
equipment of Holt and Mason including thirty-three oxen and twenty
horses and four or five dozen buffalo robes worth from forty to
forty-five dollars a dozen, which were used in lieu of blankets. |