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LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 

AT  URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

STEWART  S.  HOWE 

JOURNALISM  CLASS  OF  I'r.f, 


STEWART  S.  HOWE  FOUNDATION 


385.4 
C444ca 
cop. 3 


I  .H.S. 


iJ^io?ieer  i^yiai/roaa 


an 


he  QjtoriJ  of  t/ie  L^/iicaao 
a  Q^iort/i     Jj'^'^estern  QjustcTii 


by  ROBERT  J.  CASEY 
and  W.  A.  S.  DOUGLAS 


t/eseu  ^jyXOoi 


hittleseii  f^jy  LJoiise 

McGRAW-HILL  BOOK  COMPANY,  INC.  NEW  YORK :  TORONTO 


PIONEER  RAILROAD 

Copyright,  19+8,  by  the  McGraw-Hill  Book  Company,  Inc. 
All  rifflits  reserved.  Thi.s  book,  or  parts  thereof,  may  not  be 
reproduced  in  any  form  without  permission  of  the  jiublisher. 


PUBLISHED  BY  WHITTLESEY  HOUSE 

A  DIVISION  OF  THE  McGraw-Hill  Book  Compaxy,  Inc. 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


to 


TO  THOSE  THOUSANDS  OF  MEN  AND  WOMEN 

(some  of  whom  have  passed  on) 

WHOSE  LIFETIME  WORK  HAS  BEEN  AND  WILL  BE 

THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  PIONEER  RAILROAD 


^.^^^Ctc/c) 


noii^leaajnents 


T 


For   their   patience,    cooperation,   and    counsel,   the   authors    are 
deeply  indebted  to  these  gentlemen : 

Rowland   L.   Williams,   President,    Chicago    and    North   Western 
Railway  System 

Barret  Conway,  Vice  President  and  Secretary 

Major  General  Carl  R.  Gray,  Jr.,  Administrator,  Veterans'  Af- 
fairs, former  Vice-president 

Lowell  Hastings,  General  Solicitor 

Bradford  W.  Carlton,  Assistant  to  President 

Francis  V.  Koval,  Assistant  to  President 

William  F.  White,  Assistant  Secretary 

Quentin  M.  Lambert,  Publicity  Manager 


We  are  also  grateful  to  our  old-time  colleague  of  Chicago  news- 
paper days,  John  Drury,  who  dug  deep  into  the  archives  of  the 
railroad  and  into  the  material  loaned  by  the  Newberry  Librarj', 
the  Chicago  Historical  Association,  and  the  Chicago  Public  Li- 
brary ;  nor  should  we  forget  Sally  ]\Iorgan,  who  typed  and  retyped 
the  manuscript  again  and  again  and  again — until  it  finally  passed 
nmster. 


Co 


ontents 


Part  One.  MAN  OF  VISION 

Chapter 

1.  The  Gentleman  from  Delaware  County       .....  3 

2.  Charles   Butler's   Proposal 11 

3.  Go  West,  Young  Man 18 

4.  His  Honor  the  Mayor 27 

5.  Galena — Prairie    Capital         ........  38 

Part  Two.  PIONEER  RAILROAD 

6.  The  Birth  of  a   Railroad 47 

7.  The    Pioneer 57 

8.  North  Western  Dream   .........  68 

9.  Laying   the   Foundation           ........  77 

Part  Three.   NORTHWEST   TERRITORY 

10.  Territory  in  Need  of  a  Railroad   .......  85 

11.  Twin  Cities  in  the  Wilderness       .......  95 

12.  The  Rails  Come  to  Minnesota 100 

Part  Four.  THE  WAR  YEARS 

13.  Civil   War 113 

14.  Consolidation 121 

15.  Ogden    Retires 129 

16.  Marvin   Hughitt 135 

17.  Rural  Opposition 140 

Part  Five.   THE   LAST  FRONTIER 

18.  The  Omaha  Climbs  Aboard 149 

19.  Empty   Horizons      .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .155 


x  contents 

Chapter 

20.  Advance  on  tlie  Dakotas 159 

21.  The  Great  Capital  Fight 172 

22.  Picnics  and  Excursions   .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .177 

Part  Six.  PALACE  CARS,  HEROES,  AND  BLIZZARDS 

23.  Luxurious   Travel 187 

24.  "Ah,  Noble  Kate  Shelley" 191 

25.  The  Great  Blizzard 199 

26.  Casey  at  the  Throttle 208 

Part  Seven.  THE  LAST  LAP 

27.  Entrance  to  the   New   Century .  215 

28.  Yesterday's   Frontier 226 

29.  Again  a  Farmer's  Railroad 234 

30.  Tourists,  Sculpture,  and  Cattle 243 

31.  Progress — and    Setback 248 

32.  Trusteeship  and  Reorganization    .......  253 

33.  "Bud"    Williams    Takes   Over 261 

Part  Eight.  CENTURY  OF  SERVICE 

34.  Notes   on   a  Southpaw   Railroad    .......  269 

35.  Locals  and  Streamliners          ........  276 

36.  The  First  Hundred  Years  Are  the  Hardest       ....  282 

Appendi.x 289 

Bibliography 321 

Index 323 


..»*p  -*^  •  ''^-  -•*^-i^'-???'^.-y-  \-y>.^'f:-^s^^^jf''. 


•<r' -^  ^-3^V=;:   .T^"^  '~~zr^  -"^ 


.^/-/  (^//^ 


MAN     OF     VISION 


Cl 


lapter    / 

THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM 
DELAWARE  COUNTY 


To  THE  Citizens  of  Chicago  and  to  the  People  of  the  Northwest: 
Would  you  behold  William  Butler  Ogden's  monument,  look  around  you ! 
— History  of  Chicago,  by  A.  T.  Andreas;  188i. 

The  big  man  gently  patted  the  big  bay  gelding,  and  the  liorse, 
responsive  as  always  to  his  master's  gestures,  halted  his  easy,  power- 
ful stride. 

Tile  trail  they  had  been  following  had  risen  somewhat  from  the 
Delaware  River  bank,  so  that  the  pair  of  them — man  and  beast — 
were  looking  over  the  countr^'side.  This  trail  began  at  Stamford  in 
the  northeastern  corner  of  Delaware  County,  where  it  joined  a 
slightly  more  imposing  roadway  that  ran  west  for  sixty-odd  miles 
to  meet  the  Hudson  River  at  Ravena — whence  it  was  an  easy  ride 
to  Albany,  then  in  1835,  as  now,  the  capital  of  New  York  State. 

The  gentleman  from  Delaware  County  let  the  reins  hang  on  his 
horse's  neck,  shook  the  stirrups  from  his  feet,  stretched  his  long 
legs,  and  wliile  his  mount  cropped  green  mulberry  leaves,  stared 
ahead  of  him.  This  was  the  spread  of  country  that  had  a  peculiar 
attraction  for  him.  Riding  from  his  near-by  home  in  Walton  on  his 
way  to  the  sessions  of  the  State  Legislature,  he  was  wont  to  halt  at 
this  particular  rise,  kick  off  his  stirrups,  swing  around  in  the  saddle, 
and  look  backward ;  coming  home  to  Walton  from  Albany,  as  now, 
he  would  halt  here,  and  stare  ahead. 

William  Butler  Ogden  threw  one  leg  over  his  saddle,  hooked  his 
reins  to  the  pummel,  and  slid  easily  to  the  ground.  He  walked  for- 

3 


4  M  A  N      O  F      V  I  S  I  O  N 

ward  a  dozen  paces  and  looked  down.  Ahead  of  him  was  cleared  land 
which,  not  so  long  ago,  had  been  a  mighty  forest ;  the  path  meandered 
through  tree  stumps.  As  he  stood  there,  the  ring  of  axes  came  to  him 
sharply  on  the  clear  April  air ;  there  came  also  the  echo  of  a  crash 
as  an  oaken  giant  tumbled  to  earth.  Ogdcn's  tree-fellers  had  been 
busy  during  his  last  sojourn  in  Albany.  The  view  was  unobstructed 
now,  all  the  way  to  the  little  white  town  of  Walton.  Philadcli)hia  was 
growing  fast,  and  orders  for  lumber  from  the  Ogden  sawmill — to  be 
floated  down  the  Delaware — overtaxed  the  mill,  though  the  raw 
supply  along  the  river  had  been  barely  touched. 

Let  us  take  a  look  at  Will  Ogden  as  he  stands  staring  past  the 
tree  stumjjs,  getting  from  his  favorite  post  of  vantage  his  first  clear 
look  at  his  home.  The  little  white  houses  were  clustered  around  the 
lazy  river.  The  big  white  house  some  two  hundred  yards  from  the 
river's  edge  had  been  built  by  his  father ;  so  had  the  sawmill  by  the 
river.  The  mill  wheel  rotating  slowly  under  the  gentle  urge  of  the 
river  had  been  erected  by  Will  himself  twelve  years  before,  when, 
in  his  seventeenth  year,  his  father  had  been  stricken  by  paralysis, 
and  the  eldest  son  had  dropped  the  study  of  law  to  become  a  lumber- 
man. 

"We  must  move  with  the  times,  Dad,"  the  boy  had  explained  to 
his  father.  The  sick  man,  unable  to  do  more,  understanding  but  voice- 
less, had  nodded  in  acquiescence.  Will  knew  he  would  have  smiled  as 
he  agreed,  had  not  his  features  been  frozen  into  immobility  by  the 
scourge  that  had  come  upon  him. 

So  there  was  the  sawmill  wheel. 

A  tall  man — just  over  six  feet — Will  Ogden  was  broad-shouldered 
and  slim-waisted.  His  hands  were  large  and  capable.  He  had  brown 
hair,  a  clean-shaven  face,  a  high  forehead;  his  mouth  was  firm  and 
determined,  his  eyes  clear  gray.  All  in  all,  a  remarkably  handsome 
man  of  twenty-nine,  clad  in  the  fashion  of  a  gentleman  of  his  day 
on  horseback:  long,  high-split,  brown  riding  coat;  neckcloth;  tight 
soft-leather  breeches ;  booted  but  unspurrud.  AVill  Ogden  loved  his 
horses,  as  his  horses  loved  him,  and  had  no  use  even  for  a  riding  whip. 

Across  the  lazy  river,  opposite  the  sawmill  wheel  was  the  flour 
mill  wheel,  rotating  under  the  gentle  urge  of  the  Delaware  as  slowly 
and  majestically  as  its  neighbor.  Behind  it  was  the  low  flat-roofed 
mill,  white  as  its  finished  product — the  flour  mill   as  busy  as   the 


THE  GENTLEMAN   FROM  DELAWARE   COUNTY  O 

sawmill,  for  Philadelphia  needed  bread  as  well  as  lumber.  Beyond 
the  little  white  mill,  beyond  a  green  garden  showing  flashes  of  other 
bright  spring  colors,  was  a  low  white-timbered  house  with  ivy  cling- 
ing to  its  walls. 

Strange  that  a  young  man  should  be  made  unhappy  by  looking 
at  such  beauty  as  a  gentle  river,  a  flour  mill  wheel,  a  pretty  garden, 
an  ivy-covered,  timbered  house — that  a  man  should  be  made  suddenly 
miserable,  restless.  One  side  of  the  river  stood  for  all  that  he  was 
himself,  all  that  he  had  gained,  all  that  he  had  built  of  himself — 
postmaster  of  Walton,  member  of  the  State  Assembly  from  Dela- 
ware County,  major  and  brigade  inspector  in  the  state  militia,  friend 
of  that  fellow  Democrat,  President  "Andy"  Jackson,  friend  and 
confidant  of  Governor  "Bill"  Marcy  of  New  York ;  one  of  the  lead- 
ing lumber  merchants  of  the  state.  Young,  handsome,  well  to  do, 
popular — and  unmarried! 

The  Ogdens  had  been  "people"  since  the  early  settlement  of  North 
America.  The  first  American  Ogden  had  been  the  younger  son  of  a 
Yorkshire  squire,  a  wild,  hard-riding  youth  without  prospects  and 
with  a  facility  for  picking  wrong  numbers  and  wrong  cards  at  the 
gaming  tables.  His  father,  beating  Horace  Greeley  to  the  punch  line 
by  more  than  a  hundred  years,  had  said  in  eff'ect,  "Go  West,  young 
man!" — the  West  in  those  days  being  the  shore  line  of  His  Majesty's 
American  Colonies.  To  his  advice  he  added  five  hundred  pounds — 
no  mean  sum  in  those  days. 

This  first  William  Ogden  straightened  out  quickly,  secured  a 
grant  of  land  in  New  Jersey  through  the  influence  of  his  family, 
gathered  to  him  portions  of  several  shiploads  of  bond  servants,  and 
built  a  house.  He  farmed  land  to  a  sufficient  extent  to  provide  for 
him  a  livelihood  plus  about  as  many  comforts  as  were  being  enjoyed 
by  his  brother,  the  now-reigning  Yorkshire  squire.  He  lived  in  a 
cleared  and  productive  section  near  Morristown.  His  immediate 
neighbors  were  the  Weeds  and  the  Butlers.  William  Ogden  married 
a  Butler  and  raised  a  brood  of  children.  Four  of  his  sons  served  in 
the  Revolutionary  War.  One  of  these,  Abraham  Ogden,  a  lawyer, 
bought  the  present  site  of  Ogdensburg  in  St.  Lawrence  County, 
New  York,  on  the  St.  Lawrence  River.  He  had  built  a  sort  of  fort 
there,  as  protection  against  the  Indians,  which  was  ignored  by  the 


MAN      OF      VISION 


British  during  the  Revolutionary  War.  In  tlic  War  of  1812,  Abra- 
}iain  Ogdon's  fort  and  trading  village  were  destroyed  by  the  enemy 
— but  the  city  of  Ogdensburg  rose  on  the  ashes — and  still  thrives. 

William  Ogden's  first  cousin,  Peter  Skene  Ogden,  wandered  into 
the  Far  West  years  before  wandering  into  the  Far  West  became 
known  as  a  hazardous  occupation.  Peter  Skene  Ogden  was  a  trapper, 
selling  his  furs  to  the  first  of  the  Chouteaus  in  the  village  of  St. 
Louis.  He  discovered  Ogden's  Hole  in  what  is  now  the  state  of  Utah, 
where  he  had  fresh  water,  and  where  furred  animals  came  to  drink 
and  to  die  and  to  have  their  hides  forwarded  to  old  Auguste  Chou- 
teau. When  Brigham  Young  decided  that  a  town  should  be  built 
around  Ogden's  Hole,  he  called  it  Ogden,  and  it  became  a  great  city. 
Grateful  that  Peter  Skene  Ogden  had  laid  a  trail  to  fresh  water,  the 
Mormon  leader  also  picked  a  mountain  and  named  it  after  the 
trapper. 

William  Butler  Ogden's  grandfather  served  as  an  officer  in  the 
Revolutionary  War ;  when  that  trouble  was  over,  he  retired  to  his 
estate,  refusing  repeated  demands  that  he  enter  politics  by  serving 
in  the  New  Jersey  Legislature.  His  son  Abraham,  who  had  engaged 
in  the  lumber  business,  became  intrigued  over  the  stories  of  the  im- 
mense timber  forests  in  the  "upper  Delaware  country."  A  patent  to 
lumbering  stretches  of  forest  could  be  secured  through  family  influ- 
ence; the  Delaware  River  rolled  down  from  the  forest  to  Philadelphia 
— and  was  not  Philadelphia  the  new  country's  greatest,  fastest  grow- 
ing city.'' 

Abraham  Ogden  was  a  great  persuader;  he  talked  his  clan  into 
moving  into  the  state  of  New  York,  into  securing  patents  to  the 
great  pine,  elm,  and  oak  forests.  His  wife  was  a  Weed,  his  aunt  had 
married  a  Butler,  a  cousin  had  wed  a  Wheeling.  Weeds,  Butlers, 
Wheelings  and  Ogdens  moved  to  the  banks  of  the  lazy  Delaware,  and 
all  of  them  prospered.  Some  of  them  are  still  there. 

Abraham  Ogden,  with  the  help  of  Weeds,  Butlers,  and  Wheel- 
ings, built  the  little  white  town  of  Walton  on  the  banks  of  the  river. 
The  families  had  come  to  primitive  forest,  west  of  the  Catskills,  8 
miles  from  Albany,  60  miles  from  what — in  courteous  terms — was 
then  called  "a  carriage  road." 

The  clans  cleared  the  land,  the}'  built  their  homes — crude  at  first, 
gradually    iinjiroved — broke    the    forest,    sowed    and    reaped,    con- 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM   DELAWARE   COUNTY  7 

structed  their  rafts  and  then  their  flatboats.  Within  two  decades  they 
had  established  their  trade  with  the  New  World  metropolis,  Philadel- 
phia. Governor  De  Witt  Clinton,  visiting  Abraham  Ogden  on  the 
matter  of  his  support  of  the  Erie  Canal  project,  was  so  entranced 
with  the  beauty  of  Walton  and  the  surrounding  country  that  he 
made  it  the  subject  of  one  of  his  powerful  orations  in  support  of  the 
man-made  waterway.  He  thundered : 

In  this  sequestered  section  of  our  State,  where  courageous  families 
arrived  in  wilderness  on  pack  horses  within  my  own  memory,  patriotism 
has  found  a  home  amid  dignified  courtesy  and  genuine  hospitality.  The 
society  so  formed  and  developed  through  the  influence  of  these  pioneers 
is  distinguished  through  all  the  surrounding  country  no  less  for  its  general 
intelligence  and  intellectual  cultivation  than  for  its  moral  and  religious 
character.  The  marts  of  commerce  are  open  to  these  gallent  people  be- 
cause nature  provided  them  with  a  waterway.  And  where  nature  has 
faded,  mj'  friends,  then  man  must  find  a  way.  .  .  . 

Abraham  Ogden  built  his  white-timbered  house  and  his  sawmill, 
raised  his  family  from  harsh  living  to  comfort,  and  fell  victim  to  a 
stroke  of  paralysis  at  the  early  age  of  forty-two.  Inside  of  seconds 
he  was  changed  from  a  strong  and  hearty  man  to  something  breath- 
ing— but  otherwise  inanimate;  his  brain  apparently  functioned  for 
he  could  move  his  head  slightly  in  gestures  of  assent  and  dissent.  For 
five  years  he  so  lived  and  then  passed  on.  This  was  in  1820,  when  he 
was  forty-seven  years  of  age.  William  Butler  Ogden  was  within  a 
month  of  being  seventeen  when  his  father  became  helpless.  For  three 
years  after  that,  he  ran  the  sawmill  with  the  help  of  a  scholarly  Weed 
uncle,  who  could  keep  books  but  who  didn't  know  the  difference  be- 
tween a  pine  tree  and  an  elm.  But  the  business  moved  almost  of  its 
own  momentum ;  Philadelphia  needed  lumber,  and  all  that  the  Ogdens 
had  to  do  was  to  hew  timber,  shape  it,  and  slide  it  down  the  river. 
Will  Ogden,  hoping  against  hope  for  his  father's  recovery,  had 
studied  law.  With  Abraham's  death,  he  became  the  actual  instead  of 
the  virtual  head  of  the  business.  There  was  his  mother,  a  gentle,  well- 
bred,  fragile  person ;  most  certainly  she  had  to  be  taken  care  of — no 
fiddling  with  the  law  when  the  lumber  business  could  ensure  comfort 
and  moneyed  ease  for  this  little  ladv. 


MAN      OF     VISION 


Then  there  was  Mahlon — young  Mahlon,  as  keen  on  being  a  law- 
yer as  his  eltler  brother  had  ever  been — and  the  three  girls,  lovely 
girls,  who  would  have  no  trouble  finding  husbands.  Off  they  would 
flit  in  a  few  years,  so  ver^'  few  years- — and,  as  assuredly,  off  would 
flit  young  Mahlon  to  practice  law  in  Philadelphia  or  Washington 
or  New  York.  And  Will  Ogden  would  be  alone  with  his  adored  and 
adoring  mother.  But  just  a  moment!  Not  so  alone,  after  all — for 
there  was  Mary,  whose  father,  John  Wheeling,  operated  the  flour 
mill  across  the  river  from  the  Ogden  sawmill.  Mary  had  not  always 
been  important  to  ^Vill  Ogden — once  she  had  been  just  a  grubby 
little  girl  in  pigtails,  a  nuisance  to  himself  and  to  other  little  boys. 
Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  she  had  grown  uj) — a  honey-haired,  slim,  jiink 
and  white  girl  of  seventeen. 

This  realization  of  Mary  and  her  physical  assets  came  to  AVill 
Ogden  strangely  enough  as  he  was  leaving  his  father's  grave.  Friends 
and  relatives  had  gathered  round  the  grief-stricken  widow,  her 
daughters,  and  second  son.  Will  found  himself  alone — and  then  felt 
a  touch  on  his  arm. 

"Cousin  Will,  I'm  so  sorry." 

(Most  everybody  in  Walton — that  is  the  Ogdens,  tlie  Weeds,  the 
Wlieelings — called  each  other  "cousin.") 

The  voice  was  soft,  melodious.  Will  Ogden  turned  to  look  at  IVIary 
Wheeling.  What  a  pretty  girl !  And  yesterday  she  was  a  child  ;  today 
slim  and  lovely  even  in  unrevealing,  voluminous  black. 

"Thank  you.  Cousin  Mary." 

Cousin?  He  repeated  the  word  to  himself,  made  a  swift  calcula- 
tion as  to  the  sort  of  cousins  they  were.  Oh,  yes ;  Granduncle  Weed 
had  married  a  ^\niccling  back  in  Morristown  before  the  War  of  In- 
dependence. And  that  Wheeling  lady  had  been  a  cousin  of  Mary 
W'hceling's  grandfather.  Far  enough  away,  by  any  standard.  Pecu- 
liarly, he  thought,  his  brief  mental  genealogical  study  left  him  deeply 
relieved. 

They  walked  on  together  behind  the  rest  of  the  funeral  party. 

"Mary,"  said  Will — he  was  always  a  direct  sort  of  person — "I 
was  thinking  that  some  of  these  evenings  I  ouglit  to  row  across  and 
pay  your  folks  a  visit." 

"I  know  they'll  be  glad  to  see  you,  Will,"  Mury  replied  demurely. 


THE  GENTLEMAN   FROM  DELAWARE   COUNTY  i) 

There  had  been,  from  the  very  beginning,  a  perfect  understanding. 
It  came  to  Will  Ogden  as  he  jogged  easily  along,  his  C3'es  on  the  flour 
mill  wheel  and  not  on  his  own  sawmill  wheel,  that  he  had  never  actu- 
ally proposed  to  Mary  Wheeling. 

They  had  been  sitting  one  summer  evening  on  the  porch  of  Jolin 
Wheeling's  house.  This  faced  the  long  garden,  the  mill  wheel,  and 
the  river;  you  came  to  it  either  from  the  water  and  up  the  garden 
path  or  you  came  around  to  it  by  a  circular  driveway  off  the  rutted 
roadway.  ]\Iostly  forest  behind  the  Wheeling  house,  for  the  highway 
(so-called)  to  Philadelphia  and  to  Albany  ran  on  the  sawmill  side 
of  the  river. 

"When  we're  married — "  Will  had  begun.  He  was  always  one  for 
expressing  his  thoughts  and  his  plans  well  ahead. 

"Yes,  Will,"  she  said  quietly — a  smile  on  her  face  at  the  sudden 
rush  of  color  to  his — "what  is  it  you  have  in  mind  when  we're  mar- 
ried ?" 

She  was  holding  in  her  hand  a  daisy,  from  which  she  had  been 
picking  the  petals  one  by  one;  she  would  often  do  this  when  they 
were  sitting  together. 

"Then — then — it's  all  right?"  he  managed  to  stammer. 

"Of  course  it's  all  right.  Will,"  whispered  Mary.  "It's  always  been 
all  right  ever  since  I  started  pulling  daisy  petals  on  you  when  I  was 
nine  years  old.  You  know,  'He  loves  me,  he  loves  me  not.'  Hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  times,  Will,  and  it  has  always  come  out  right.  You 
do  love  me,  don't  you?" 

Will  Ogden  took  from  her  fingers  the  recently  unpetaled  daisy. 
Carefully  and  methodically  he  placed  it  between  the  leaves  of  the 
notebook  that  he  always  carried  in  an  inner  coat  pocket.  Then,  de- 
liberate as  always,  he  took  his  Mary  in  his  arms  and,  for  the  first 
time,  kissed  her. 

That  had  been  nine  years  ago,  back  in  1826,  about  a  year  after 
Abraham  Ogden  had  been  relieved  from  all  pain  and  laid  to  rest.  Two 
years  of  sweet  courtship;  and  the  wedding  had  been  set  for  a  June 
day  of  1828. 

He  was  in  Philadelphia  the  previous  March — busy  for  a  week  on 
an  important  lumber  deal.  On  a  blustery  night,  his  brother  Mahlon 
galloped,  mudstaincd,  to  the  door  of  his  inn,  rushed  Will  to  liis  room, 


10  MANOF      VISION 

!Uid  broke  tlic  news;  Mary  had  passed  away  after  two  days  of  mys- 
terious illness,  diaf^nosed  by  the  doctor  as  "heart  trouble." 

On  the  evening  of  December  20,  1881,  the  members  of  the  Chicago 
Historical  Society  and  more  than  fourscore  distinguished  guests 
gathered  together  to  listen  to  an  address  by  the  Honorable  Isaac 
Arnold,  president  of  the  society  and  a  former  associate  of  the  Hon- 
orable William  Butler  Ogden,  first  mayor  of  the  city  of  Chicago,  first 
president  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway.  At  the  same 
time,  a  portrait  of  Ogden,  painted  by  George  P.  A.  Healy,  was  pre- 
sented to  the  society.  Ogden  had  died  in  1877. 

"I  recall  a  dark  stormy  night  in  December,  181'3,"  said  Arnold, 
"when  we  were  living  together  at  his  house  on  Ontario  Street.  The 
wild  winter  wind  was  moaning  through  the  trees  which  stood  close  to 
the  building.  A  great  wood  fire  was  burning  on  old-fashioned  and- 
irons. It  was  late ;  we  were  alone,  and  had  been  narrating  to  each 
other  incidents  of  boyhood — on  the  Delaware  and  the  Susquehanna. 
We  had  been  speaking  of  schoolmates  and  early  friends. 

"He  had  been  humming  old,  half-forgotten  ballads;  he  seemed 
wholly  absorbed  in  his  memories.  The  fire  burned  low,  but  he  still 
kept  on  talking.  Finally,  he  went  to  his  room.  He  returned  with  a 
package  of  carefully  preserved,  long-ago-faded  flowers — roses,  pan- 
sies,  some  old  garden  flowers,  daisies — a  ribbon,  a  glove,  some  notes 
and  a  poem.  All  tenderly  cherished  relics  of  one  from  whom,  many 
and  long  years  before,  he  had  been  separated  by  death  and  around 
whose  grave,  amid  all  the  active  and  absorbing  scenes  in  which  he 
was  living,  his  memory  still  lingered  fondly  and  faithfully.  He  never 
forgot  the  Sabbath  chimes  with  which  her  voice  had  mingled.  Half 
a  century  after  her  death  and  in  his  last  will  and  testament  he  made 
provision  for  all  those  near  to  her  who  were  still  alive." 


Cl 


banter  2 

CHARLES  BUTLER'S  PROPOSAL 


Charles  Butler,  an  alert,  impatient,  clever  little  man,  was  pacing 
back  and  forth  on  the  long,  wide  verandalike  front  porch  of  the 
Ogden  home  as  Will  Ogden- — and  Jonathan,  his  horse — slowly  jogged 
into  view  on  the  Delaware  road.  Will  recognized  his  brother-in-law 
and  waved  a  salutation ;  Charles  returned  it,  at  the  same  time  yank- 
ing a  huge  timepiece  from  his  fob,  glancing  at  it,  and  returning  it ; 
he  then  resumed  his  pacing. 

"Poor  Charles,"  murmured  Will  to  himself.  "I  thought  he  was 
out  West  some  place.  To  look  at  him,  you'd  think  I  was  hours  late 
for  an  important  conference.  He  never  forgets  he  is  descended  from 
a  Duke  of  Ormonde  and  sometimes  he  acts  more  like  a  duke  than,  I 
would  suppose,  does  his  noble  cousin,  the  head  of  the  clan." 

At  the  steps  of  his  home.  Will  Ogden  slid  to  the  ground  from  his 
saddle  and  smacked  Jonathan's  rump.  The  understanding  horse 
paced  majestically  on  and  disappeared  round  the  corner  of  the  house 
in  the  direction  of  the  stables. 

"What  good  breeze  brings  you  to  Walton,  Charles?"  asked  Will 
as  the  two  men  shook  hands.  The  door  opened,  and  a  dainty,  pretty 
little  woman,  looking  a  full  decade  less  than  her  fifty  years,  fairly 
ran  into  her  son's  arms. 

"Back  again,  Will !"  cried  Abigail  Ogden.  "I  was  beginning  to 
wonder — " 

"My  usual  three  days'  journey  from  Albany,  Mother  dear,"  her 
son  replied  with  a  laugh.  "I'm  not  a  hard  rider,  you  know.  You 
wouldn't  be  worrying  or  wondering  if  Charles  were  not  here.  He 
ought  to  know  we  haven't  train  service  as  yet  between  the  capital 
and  Walton." 

"I've  been  waiting  a  day,  a  whole  day,"  complained  Charles,  again 
11 


MAN      or      VISION 


mechanically'  j-anking  out  his  huge  watch — which  he  returned  to  his 
pocket  without  even  looking  at  its  face.  "Important  matters,  Will, 
important  mutters  for  j'ou  and  for  me." 

"He  hasn't  told  me  a  thing  about  them,  ^Vill,"  said  Mrs.  Ogden. 
"They  must  really  be  something  of  moment  for  him  to  hang  onto 
them  up  till  j'ou  get  here ;  but  he's  been  fizzing  like  a  leaky  ginger 
beer  bottle  for  twenty-four  hours." 

Even  Charles  Butler  laughed,  made  another  gesture  to  his  watch 
pocket,  remembered  in  time,  slapped  his  hands  together. 

"A  splendid  speech,  Will,"  he  went  on.  "I  might  say  a  remarkable 
speech.  Your  prophetic  words  alone  put  over  the  New  York  and  Erie 
Railroad  Bill."  Charles  Butler  funibltd  in  u  ])ocket,  drew  forth  a 
sheaf  of  papers. 

"How  in  God's  name  did  you  get  hold  of  my  speech.'"'  asked  Will 
Ogden.  "You  weren't  in  Albany,  and  the  newspapers  haven't  had 
time—" 

"Special  dispatch  rider  to  Washington,"  replied  Charles  gleefully 
as  he  slapped  the  folded  papers  against  his  hip.  "Old  Hickory  is  in- 
terested in  railroads.  Our  first  western  President,  Will,  and  it  will 
be  railroads  which  will  open  up  the  West.  I  might  say  he's  damnably 
interested,  if  Mother" — with  a  bow  in  his  mother-in-law's  direction — 
"if  Mother  will  excuse  the  language." 

"Did  the  President  give  you  tliat  copj-  of  ni}-  speech?"  asked  Will 
Ogden. 

"Well,  not  exactly,"  answered  his  brother-in-law.  "He  passed  it 
along  to  my  brother,  the  attorney'  general.  Ben  knew  I  was  coming 
here  to  talk  to  you  about  matters  akin  and  so  he  gave  it  to  me." 

"Matters  akin.'"  asked  Will  Ogden.  "Well,  Charles,  your  matters 
akin  will  have  to  wait  till  I  bathe  and  sliave,  change  my  clothes,  and 
have  done  justice  to  the  splendid  supjier  I  know  Mother  is  liaving 
prepared  for  us." 

Charles  Butler,  impatient  as  always,  held  up  a  hand. 

"Just  a  minute,"  he  cried.  "Just  a  minute.  Mother.  I  want  to  read 
you  what  the  President  underlined."  Without  waiting  for  approval 
from  his  audience,  he  proceeded :  "  'The  state-pride  alone  of  the  Em- 
pire State,  gentlemen,  calls  for  the  construction  at  once  of  the  Erie 
road.  Otherwise,  the  scepter  will  depart  from  Judah — ' " 

"How's  that.  Mother.''  The  scepter  from  Judah.'"' 


CHARLES  BUTLKR's   PROPOSAL.  13 

"Wonderful."  Mrs.  Ogden  laughed.  "Please  continue,  Charles." 

Will  Ogden  chewed  his  lower  lip,  while  his  cheeks  colored.  He  was 
never  a  vain  man ;  in  fact,  he  was  shy  and  always  had  to  nerve  him- 
self to  public  speaking  and  public  appearance. 

"  'Philadelphia,'  "  intoned  Charles  Butler,  thoroughly  enjoying 
himself,  "  'is  your  great  rival  and,  if  New  York  is  idle,  will  gather  in 
the  trade  of  the  great  West.  Look  at  what  our  sister  state,  Mary- 
land, has  already  accomplished  with  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Rail- 
road.' 

"  'Continuous  railways  from  New  York  to  Lake  Erie,  and  south 
of  Lake  Erie,  through  Ohio,  Indiana,  and  Illinois,  to  the  waters  of 
the  Mississippi,  and  connecting  with  railroads  running  to  Cincinnati 
and  Louisville  in  Kentucky,  and  Nashville  in  Tennessee,  and  to  New 
Orleans  will  present  the  most  splendid  system  of  internal  communi- 
cation ever  devised  by  man.  To  look  forward  to  the  completion  of 
such  a  system  in  my  day  may  be  considered  visionary.  But,  gentle- 
men, I  pray  that  at  least  some  of  us  will  live  to  see  it  realized.'  " 

Charles  Butler  folded  the  papers,  placed  them  in  his  inside  pocket, 
and  grinned  impishly  at  his  embarrassed  brother-in-law. 

"Son,"  whispered  Mrs.  Ogden,  her  eyes  glowing,  "I'm  proud  of 
you.  I  wish  your  father  were  here." 

The  Widow  Ogden  watched  her  eldest  son  and  her  son-in-law,  a 
decanter  of  old  port  between  them.  Charles  Butler,  nervous,  impa- 
tient, his  words  tumbling  on  each  other;  Will  Ogden,  listening  in- 
tently, his  churchwarden  pipe  cold  and  unheeded  in  one  hand  while 
the  fingers  of  the  other  drummed  on  the  little  wine  table. 

He  has  never  been  happy,  thought  the  widow  to  herself,  never  a 
day  since  Mary  went  away.  I  think  he  would  have  gone  from  me  long 
since  but  for  the  children.  Now  Mahlon  is  a  lawyer,  and  the  girls  are 
finishing  school  in  Philadelphia.  For  years  I  feel  he  has  been  training 
Cousin  George  Weed  to  run  the  mill.  He  wants  to  get  away  from  this 
place  of  sadness  as  far  as  he  is  concerned.  The  years  have  made  no 
difference.  And  here's  Charles  Butler  with  the  biggest  of  his  big 
schemes. 

The  Widow  Ogden  sighed,  blinked  back  tears  as  her  crochet  needle 
moved  in  and  out — listened. 


1*  MANOFVISION 

"There's  just  one  tiling  vou  left  out  of  tiiat  speech,  Will,"  Charles 
Butler  was  saying. 

"And  what  was  that,  Charles?" 

"Well,  you  talked  of  the  East  and  the  South  .uul  what  we  call  the 
West.  You're  going  to  crisscross  it  with  railroad  lines.  Andy  Jack- 
son calls  liiniself  a  Westerner  but,  my  goodness.  Will,  inside  of  a 
very  few  years  Tennessee  won't  even  qualify  as  the  Middle  West. 
And  then,  after  the  Middle  West,  comes  the  West  and  the  North- 
west." 

"Unsettled  land,  wild  land,  desert  hind,"  said  Will  Ogdcn  shortly. 

"I  know,  I  know,"  continued  Butler.  "It  has  just  taken  you  three 
days  to  come  from  Albany  here.  Eighty  miles  in  three  days.  Inside 
of  a  very  short  time  when  the  railroads  cover  the  territory  you  men- 
tioned in  your  speech,  you'll  make  that  sort  of  journey  in  three 
hours.  Three  hours  instead  of  three  days,  W^ill.  Think  of  that." 

Charles  paused  to  sip  his  port. 

"I  am  not  primarily  concerned  with  the  Erie  road  or  the  Balti- 
more and  Ohio  road  or  even  the  Erie  Canal.  New  York  wants  the 
trade  from  the  West  or  what  j'ou  now  call  the  West;  so  does  Phila- 
delphia. You  and  I  can  get  the  jump  on  both  those  places.  Will." 

"How.'"'  asked  Will  Ogden.  He  rose  to  stick  a  quill  into  the  flames 
of  the  log  fire,  lit  his  churchwarden,  returned  to  his  seat.  But  his 
mother  noticed  that  he  let  his  pipe  go  out  again  as  he  listened  to  her 
effervescent  son-in-law. 

"We'll  build  a  city  by  the  Great  Lakes,"  said  Butler.  "It  will  be 
an  outpost  of  trade  at  first,  then  it  will  gather  to  itself  the  trade  of 
the  surrounding  region  as  the  immigrants  flock  to  the  rich  land.  And 
then,  in  the  race  for  the  trade  and  the  commerce  of  what  you  call  the 
West,  we'll  be  a  thousand  miles  ahead  of  New  York  and  Philadel- 
phia." 

"I  presume,  Charles,"  said  Will  Ogden  slowly,  "that  you  are  re- 
ferring as  3'our  base  of  operation  to  that  sometime  onion  patch  they 
call  Chicago." 

"Onion  patch !"  snapped  Butler.  "Why,  I'll  have  you  know  Chi- 
cago was  incorporated  as  a  town  two  years  ago — " 

"How  many  people  do  you  have  to  have  to  incorporate  as  a 
town?"  asked  Will,  with  a  grin. 

"Wiv,  I  believe  it's  a  hundred  and  fiftv — but   there  were  more 


CHARLES     BUTLER     S     PROPOSAL  15 

than  a  tliousand  people  in  Chicago  then.  Listen,  Will,  I've  just  left 
there — well,  a  month  ago.  I  bet  there's  more  than  three  thousand 
there  now,  and  the  number  is  growing  daily.  Why,  riding  from  De- 
troit to  Chicago,  it  was  lucky  George  Bronson  and  I  were  not  using 
a  wagon.  The  trail  was  so  cluttered  with  immigrants  heading  for 
what  you  call  an  onion  patch  that  we  had  to  push  our  horses  through 
the  forest  to  get  round  them." 

"What  about  the  Indians?"  asked  Will.  "Has  that  difficulty  really 
been  all  cleared  up .'"' 

"Absolutely.  The  Black  Hawk  War  ended  that.  The  treaty  was 
signed  almost  a  year  ago — ^last  May  in  fact.  Sacs,  Foxes,  Chippewas, 
Winnebagoes,  Pottawattomies,  they've  all  gone.  The  Fort  Dearborn 
massacre  is  just  an  unpleasant  memory  which  can  never  recur.  Chi- 
cago in  a  few  short  j'ears,  the  way  things  are  going.  Will,  will  be  the 
great  metropolis  of  the  Middle  West.  Serving  people  all  around  and 
in  front  and  not  giving  a  damn  for  Philadelphia  or  New  York — or 
Baltimore."  ,  {l/iijuu'\ 

"And  how  is  all  this  supposed  to  interest  me.'"'  asked  Will  Ogden. 

Charles  Butler  leaned/forward  in  his  chair;  here  was  the  big  mo- 
ment. "This  trip  George  Bronson  and  I  made  to  Chicago  was  his 
second.  He  has  been  deeply  interested  since  he  met  Robert  Kinzie  in 
New  York.  This  Kinzie  is  a  son  of  the  original  settler  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Chicago  River  where  it  flows  into  Lake  Michigan.  He  was  the 
Indian  agent  at  the  time  of  the  massacre,  and  his  family  has  title 
to  a  lot  of  property  on  both  sides  of  the  river.  George  was  in  Chicago 
a  year  ago  and  he  bought  one  hundred  thirty  acres  of  Kinzie  land 
on  the  north  side  of  the  river.  On  this  last  trijj  of  ours,  I  bought 
those  acres  from  Bronson." 

"You  bought  them.'"'  queried  Will. 

"Yes,  I  bought  them,  and  a  damn  good  buy,  too.  Now  the  govern- 
ment is  holding  an  auction  of  public  lands  in  Chicago  in  May — next 
month.  I  have  secured  permission  to  follow  immediately  with  an  auc- 
tion on  my  acreage.  I  figure,  at  what  we  think  prices  are  going  to 
be,  that  I  shall  get  back  my  purchase  money  on  a  sale  of  only  a 
third  of  my  lots." 

" Wiat  did  you  pay  for  this  property  ?" 

"A  hundred  tliousand  dollars,"  answered  Charles  Butler. 


16  MANOFVISION 

For  the  first  time  that  evening  the  Widow  Ogden  felt  impelled  to 
enter  into  the  conversation. 

"Where  did  you  get  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  Charles?"  she 
asked.  "When  you  came  to  me  for  permission  to  propose  to  my 
daughter  you  told  me  you  were  worth  about  half  that,  all  told." 

"Truth  to  tell,  Mother" — Butler's  reply  had  a  faint  trace  of 
embarrassment — "I'm  not  worth  much  more  than  that  today — " 

" — and  part  of  that  is  your  property  in  Geneva,"  observed  Mrs. 
Ogden.  "Your  wife's  home  and  your  children's  jionie — not  to  say 
your  own  home." 

"What  did  you  do,  mortgage.'"'  asked  Will. 

Charles  Butler  saw  he  had  to  lay  his  cards  on  the  table. 

"Up  to  the  hilt,"  he  replied,  "and  then  some.  But  don't  worry ; 
my  investment  is  good  as  gold — -" 

"What  do  j'ou  owe  on  this  onion  patch  by  the  lake's  edge.'"  asked 
Will,  but  his  quiet  smile  encouraged  his  brother-in-law. 

"I  put  a  thirty-thousand  mortgage  on  the  Geneva  place.  Don't 
worry,  Mother,  I  had  your  sweet  daughter's  permission.  I  had  about 
twenty-five  thousand  in  liquid  assets.  I  borrowed  fifteen  thousand 
from  Brother  Ben;  and  you  know,  both  of  you,  Ben  is  a  canny  soul. 
And  as  for  the  rest  of  it,  I  gave  Arthur  Bronson  my  note." 

Will  Ogden  considered.  Charles  was  evidently,  to  his  mind,  leading 
up  to  a  loan. 

"I  could  let  3'ou  have  fifteen  thousand  if  that  would  help.  Maybe 
more  later — " 

"To  hell  with  your  fifteen  thousand!"  shouted  Butler,  jumping 
from  his  chair.  He  stood  in  front  of  Will  Ogden — then  remembered 
himself.  "My  apologies,  jNIother,  my  deepest  apologies.  But,  God 
Almighty,  I  didn't  come  to  either  of  3'ou  for  money !  If  I  could  raise 
another  hundred  thousand  dollars  I'd  slap  it  into  Chicago  real  es- 
tate. Yes,  every  penny  I  could  get  my  hands  on.  I  can't  lose." 

"You  interest  me,  Charles,"  said  Will  Ogden  calmly.  "But  if  you 
don't  want  money  from  Mother  and  me,  what  is  it  you  do  want.-"' 
Butler  resumed  his  seat,  swallowed  half  a  glass  of  port. 
"I  want  you  to  go  to  Chicago  as  the  representative  of  the  Ameri- 
can Land  Company,  which  is  the  name  I  have  given  the  enterprise. 
I  want  you  to  go  as  soon  as  possible,  lay  out  the  streets,  plot  the 
subdivision.  The  government  hasn't  sense  enough  to  do  that ;  they're 


CHARLES  butler's  PROPOSAL  17 

just  selling  staked  pieces  of  prairie.  You  studied  survej'ing,  along 
with  other  things.  You're  my  man,  and  I'll  make  it  damn  attractive 
to  you — " 

"What  about  the  sawmill?"  asked  the  Widow  Ogdcn  in  a  strained, 
small  voice. 

"Oh,  the  sawmill,"  answered  Butler  with  a  wave  of  his  hand. 
"Why,  George  Weed  can  handle  the  mill  and  the  trees  just  as  well 
as  Will  here.  It  would  do  Will  good  to  get  out  and  look  at  this  new 
country.  If  he  does,  I'll  wager  him  half  a  dozen  of  my  Chicago  lots 
against  a  case  of  this  port  he  stays  there." 

"Oh,  I  hope  not,"  breathed  Mrs.  Ogden. 

"What  do  I  get  out  of  it?"  asked  practical  Will. 

"I  have  that  all  figured  out,"  replied  Butler  jubilantly.  "If  you 
just  handle  this  sale,  I'll  give  you  twenty-five  per  cent  of  the  gross 
proceeds.  If  you'll  stay  in  Chicago  and  handle  the  whole  development, 
I'll  take  you  in  as  a  fifty-fifty  partner  in  everything  after  I  have 
recovered  fifty  thousand  dollars-^or  half  of  my  present  investment." 

"You  intrigue  me,  Charles,"  said  Will  Ogden  as  he  rose  and 
stretched.  "You  and  your  onion  patch.  Don't  mind  my  jokes, 
brother-in-law;  I'm  of  a  mind  to  try  things  out.  It  isn't  the  selling 
of  lots,  but  something  else  30U  said  that  stirs  me." 

He  wants  to  get  away,  whispered  the  Widow  Ogden  to  herself. 

"What  does  interest  you,  then.  Will?"  laughed  Charles  Butler, 
happy  now  that  he  seemed  to  have  the  battle  won. 

"Railroads !  Charles,  railroads !"  replied  Ogden.  "That  bit  where 
you  chided  me  over  my  speech  to  the  Assembly.  Not  railroads  run- 
ning into  Chicago,  but  railroads  running  out  of  Chicago.  Away  off 
into  the  wilds,  Charles,  my  boy." 

"WeU  then,  you  accept  ?"  asked  Butler. 

"Let's  sleep  on  it,"  said  Ogden,  stretching  again.  "But  if  I  feel 
in  the  morning  as  I  do  now,  I'll  promise  at  any  rate  to  take  care  of 
your  first  big  sale.  The  rest  will  be  up  to  what  I  think  of  Chicago — 
and  what  Chicago  thinks  of  me.  Get  to  bed.  Mother" — kissing  her — 
"and  you,  Charles." 


L^// (7 /)/('/'     3 


(i  O     \V  E  S  T  ,     YOUNG     MAN 


Will  Ogden  elected  to  make  his  journey — ^he  still  called  it  his  "jour- 
ney of  inspection" — to  Chicago  by  water  from  Buffalo.  Since  his 
talk  with  Charles  Butler  and  his  agreement  to  enter  into  the  sales 
arrangement  proposed  by  his  brother-in-law,  the  newspapers  had 
been  lavish  in  their  news  stories  of  the  flow  of  settlers  into  northern 
Illinois  and  Chicago.  The  New  York  Evening  Star  had  considered 
the  migration  worth  a  scries  of  articles  by  a  special  correspondent 
who  accompanied  an  emigrant  train  made  up  of  "twenty-two  wagons 
and  one  hundred  and  fifty  hardy  sons  and  daughters  of  Pennsyl- 
vania." The  Indian  tribes  had  been  pushed  across  the  Mississippi  for 
all  time,  and  the  American  people  were  convinced  that  it  was  "safe 
to  go  West."  Wagon  trains  came  from  New  York  and  Virginia  as 
well  as  Pennsylvania ;  the  people  of  the  South  moved  to  this  promised 
land  mostly  over  the  Father  of  the  Waters.  Times  were  "hard"  along 
the  seaboard,  and  cheap  land,  maybe  free  land,  had  a  great  appeal. 
The  news  had  filtered  through  to  the  Old  World,  too.  The  vehicles 
of  the  immigrants  were  of  every  kind ;  sometimes  no  vehicle  was  used, 
for  many  a  man  traveled  the  whole  way  from  the  East  on  foot.  Some- 
times the  light  wagons  containing  the  possessions  of  the  movers  were 
drawn  by  the  people  themselves,  the  head  of  the  family  between  the 
shafts  of  the  wagon,  harnessed  with  a  collar  and  traces,  while  the 
rest  of  the  family  according  to  their  strength  pulled  with  ropes  at- 
tached to  various  parts  of  the  vehicle. 

The  pioneers  from  Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  and  the  southern  states 
betrayed  their  nativity  and  prejudice  in  the  schooner-shaped  wagon 
box,  the  stiff  tongue,  the  hind  wheels  double  the  size  of  the  forward 
ones  and  closely  coupled  together,  the  whole  drawn  by  a  team  of 
four  or  six  horses  guided  by  a  single  line  in  the  hands  of  the  teamster 

18 


GO     WEST,     YOUNG     MAN  IV 

riding  the  high-wheeler.  The  harness  was  of  gigantic  proportions ; 
the  massive  leather  breeching,  the  heavy  collar,  the  immense  housing 
of  bearskin,  the  iron  trace  chains,  and  the  ponderous  doubletree 
and  whiffletrees  all  made  a  striking  picture. 

The  New  Yorker  and  immigrant  from  farther  east  was  marked  as 
far  as  his  caravan  could  be  seen  by  a  long  coupled,  low-boxed,  two- 
horse  wagon  provided  with  a  scat,  from  which  with  double  lines  the 
driver  guided  his  lightly  harnessed  pair  of  horses.  Occasionally  the 
old  "steamboat"  wagons  were  seen,  bearing  some  resemblance  to 
the  crooked,  heavy  wagons  used  by  the  peoj^le  from  the  southern 
states. 

The  contents  of  the  immigrant  wagons  wei'e  astonishing  indeed  in 
amount  as  well  as  variety  of  articles.  A  glance  under  the  canvas  cov- 
ering disclosed  a  startling  array  of  baggage — if  "women,  guns, 
rifles,  boys,  girls,  babies,  and  other  knickknacks"  may  be  called  bag- 
gage. Below,  on  the  axles  of  tlie  wagons,  dangled  pots  and  kettles 
of  all  forms  and  sizes.  Sometimes  dogs  and  even  cats  were  included 
among  the  movables  of  the  immigrating  families.  To  the  Yankee 
mover,  a  plow,  a  bed,  a  barrel  of  salt  meat,  a  suj)ply  of  tea  and 
molasses,  a  Bible,  and  a  wife  were  the  indispensable  articles. 

In  front  of  these  westward-moving  caravans  rode  the  older,  sons 
and  sometimes  tiie  daugliters.  Their  duties  were  chiefly  to  attend  to 
the  driving  of  such  domestic  animals  as  had  been  brought  along. 
Sometimes  a  considerable  amount  of  livestock  was  driven  along  by 
the  movers — one  family  came  with  500  sheep,  another  man  drove 
150  hogs — but  as  a  general  rule  a  few  horses  and  cows,  several  sheep, 
and  hogs  made  up  the  wealth  of  the  Illinois  pioneer. 

Ogden  had  booked  passage  on  the  brand  new  500-ton  steamer 
James  Madison,  advertised  as  "the  last  word,  the  final  achievement 
in  luxurious  lake  traffic."  He  had  had  to  use  the  influence  of  Attor- 
ney General  Benjamin  Butler  to  secure  cabin  space;  the  James  Madi- 
son, according  to  her  owner,  Charles  M.  Reed  of  Erie,  was  booked 
"to  the  gunwales"  for  months  to  come.  Ogden  was  to  share  his  sleep- 
ing space  with  one  George  W.  Dole,  described  to  him  as  "a  big  Chi- 
cago merchant." 

He  rode  first  to  Albany  where  he  tarried  a  couple  of  days  clearing 
up  his  legislative  business,  sent  his  horse  Jonatlian  back  to  Walton 


20  MANOFVISION 

in  charge  of  a  groom,  and  then  went  aboard  the  New  York,  Albany, 
Bull'alo  boat,  Monarch  of  the  Hudson,  with  his  gear.  On  May  11, 
1835,  bright  and  early,  he  stood  on  Reed's  wharf  and  gazed  up  quiz- 
zically at  the  "Pride  of  the  Lakes" — yet  another  flowery  name  added 
on  by  the  James  Madison's  proud  owner. 

"Why,"  said  Will  Ogden  to  himself,  "I  can't  see  the  boat  for  the 
people." 

The  James  Madison  was  indeed  loading  "to  the  gunwales" ;  the 
regular  passenger  list  for  this  haul  was  865 — never  mind  stowaways 
and  crew.  On  the  two  passenger  gangplanks  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren were  shouting,  squealing,  weeping,  laughing,  and — the  men 
anyhow — cursing.  They  carried  beds,  blankets,  pots,  and  pans ;  they 
carried  hens,  cocks,  chickens,  geese,  turkeys,  dogs,  and  cats ;  they 
toted  buckets,  shovels,  spades,  and  scythes ;  they  staggered  under 
the  weight  of  huge  wooden  trunks,  and  not  a  few  of  the  male  immi- 
grants staggered  also  under  the  influence  of  an  inside  cargo  of  liard 
liquor. 

Aboard  the  James  Madison  it  seemed  impossible  that  any  more 
people  could  be  accommodated  but  still  they  kept  on  coming  over 
the  gangplanks,  prodded  by  sailors,  rammed  ahead  by  the  crowd 
behind. 

"A  modern  Noah's  Ark,"  remarked  AVill  Ogden  aloud,  without 
thought. 

"Yes,  sir,"  chuckled  a  voice  close  b^',  "and  by  gad,  sir,  like  Noah, 
they  have  found  land — or,  rather,  they  will  when  they  get  to  Chi- 
cago." 

Will  Ogden  turned  to  look  at  a  stout,  pleasant-appearing  little 
man  of  middle  age.  Before  he  could  respond  to  the  quip,  the  stranger 
went  on. 

"Mr.  Ogden,  I  believe?  Charles  Butler  told  nic  what  you  looked 
like.  As  your  traveling  companion,  allow  me  to  present  myself. 
George  Dole  of  Newberry  and  Dole,  Chicago.  At  your  service,  sir." 

Will  grasped  the  outstretched  hand.  "My  pleasure,  Mr.  Dole." 

"Just  follow  me,"  counseled  the  Chicagoan. 

They  pushed  through  the  crowded  wharf  to  the  prow  of  the 
steamer.  Here  was  a  third,  narrow  gangjilank  guarded  by  four  husky 
sailors.  Their  leader  recognized  Dole,  touched  his  cap,  and  made 
way.  The  pair  ascended,  climbed  a  jjerjiendicular  stair,  and  arrived 


GO     WEST,     YOUNG     MAN  ^i- 

in  the  wheelhouse.  Here  sat  two  big  grizzled  men  who  were  introduced 
by  Dole  as  Reed,  the  owner,  and  Captain  Slocombe,  master  of  the 
James  Madison.  On  the  table  were  jugs  of  whisky,  rum,  and  gin,  sur- 
rounded b}'  glasses.  Reed  poured  out  generous  drinks. 

"We'll  toast  Chicago,  the  coming  metropolis  of  the  lakes,"  ob- 
served Dole. 

"Right,"  said  Reed. 

They  drank. 

"However,"  went  on  the  shipowner,  "if  Chicago  passes  Buffalo 
it  will  be  mainly  my  fault — at  the  rate  I'm  running  folks  out  there. 
Mr.  Ogden,  I  presume  you're  the  gentleman  who  persuaded  our  State 
Assembly  into  warming  up  progress  for  the  Erie  Railroad?" 

"They  give  me  some  credit,"  admitted  Will. 

"I  guess  3'ou're  railroad-minded,"  observed  Captain  Slocombe. 
"Well,  so  long  as  you  don't  put  us  boatmen  out  of  business  entirely." 

"There'll  be  trade  enough  for  both  methods  of  transportation," 
said  Dole.  "And  that  time  is  almost  upon  us.  But  west  of  Chicago, 
gentlemen,  it  has  to  be  land  transportation — and  that  means  rail- 
roads." 

"Humph" — from  Reed — "what  about  canals  .'*  Cheaper  hauling, 
too." 

"You  can't  crisscross  the  nation  with  ditches,"  Will  Ogden  found 
himself  saying,  somewhat  to  his  own  amazement.  "Cost  too  much, 
too  slow.  You  can  do  it  with  railroad  tracks." 

"Mr.  Ogden,"  cried  George  Dole.  "You're  a  man  after  my  own 
heart!  Fill  up  the  glasses,  Captain,  and  let's  drink  another  toast. 
To  the  railroads  of  the  West !  And  they  can't  come  too  quickly !" 

The  two  boatmen  grinned  as  they  tossed  down  their  liquor. 

"I  am  one  of  the  original  incorporators  of  the  town  of  Chicago," 
observed  George  Dole  proudly  as  he  sat  on  the  edge  of  his  bunk  pull- 
ing off  his  heavy  boots.  "That  was  just  two  years  ago  come  July. 
I  suggest  you  sleep  in  your  shirt  and  breeches.  The  Jaines  Madison 
is  a  fine  boat,  but  you  never  can  tell  with  steam.  Prefer  sail  myself, 
but  speed  is  the  thing  today,  and  I  march  with  the  times.  As  I  was 
saying,  we  incorporated." 

"How  many  of  you?"  asked  Ogden. 

"There  were  only  twenty-eight  of  us   who  claimed  the   right  to 


MAN     OF     VISION 


vote,  and  thirtoin  of  those  were  niniiiiiy  for  office,  including  nij'self. 
I'll  give  you  their  names,  first  because  you're  going  to  meet  them 
all  personally,  and  secondly  because  if  you  stay  in  Chicago,  these 
folks  are  going  down  in  history." 

George  Dole  checked  off  his  list  on  stubb^^  fingers. 
"E.  S.  Kiniberly,  J.  B.  Beaubien,  Mark  Beaubien,  T.  J.  V.  Owen, 
William  Ninson,  Hiram  Pearsons,  Philo  Cai'pentcr,  George  Ciiap- 
man,  John  Wright,  John  Temple,  Mathias  Smith,  David  Carver, 
James  Kinzic,  Charles  Taylor,  John  Hogan,  Eli  Rider,  Dexter  Hap- 
good,  George  Snow,  Madore  Beaubien,  Gholson  Kercheval,  George 
Dole — that's  me — II.  J.  Hamilton,  Stephen  Gale,  Enoch  Darling, 
W.  H.  Adams,  C.  A.  Ballard,  John  Watkins,  and  James  Gilbert." 
Down  to  his  shirt  and  breeches,  Dole  stretched  himself  in  the  lower 
bunk. 

"Who  won?"  asked  Will  Ogden.  He  was  sitting  on  the  floor  of  the 
cabin,  puffing  at  his  churchwarden. 

"I  tied  John  Owen  for  the  number  one  spot,"  replied  Dole.  "My 
partners,  Oliver  and  Walter  Newberry,  didn't  qualify  themselves. 
Walter  had  been  in  Galena  for  several  months  drumming  up  trade. 
We're  wharfers,  shippers,  connnission  merchants,  if  j'ou  don't  know, 
and  when  we  get  to  Chicago  this  boat  will  tie  up  at  the  Newberry 
and  Dole  dock  off  Rush  Street.  Oliver  was  down  along  the  Mississippi 
somewhere.  He's  planning  to  build  flatboats  for  the  Illinois  and 
Michigan  canal  trade  to  the  big  river,  once  they  get  it  cut." 
"You  think  Chicago  has  a  future.?"  asked  Will. 
"Son,"  replied  George  Dole,  swinging  his  short  legs  over  the  bunk 
to  face  his  questioner,  "if  I  didn't,  what  in  hell  would  I  be  doing 
there?  I'm  no  rugged  plainsman,  Mr.  Ogden.  I  can  take  a  certain 
amount  of  hardship,  but,  looking  at  me,  you  probably  say  to  your- 
self, this  is  no  pioneer  in  the  accepted  tough  American  mold.  I'm 
not,  and  neither  are  Oliver  or  Walter  Newberry.  We  come  of  the 
same  type.  New  England  merchants  who  could  have  stayed  back 
there  and  prospered.  We  belong  to  a  breed  which  has  to  push  for- 
ward to  accomplish  its  destiny — let  me  say,  rather,  the  destiny  of 
these  United  States.  What's  the  shore  line,  settled  by  my  ancestors? 
What  is  the  middle  country,  settled  by  yours?  Just  scratchings  on 
the  surface  of  what  is  destined  to  be  the  greatest  nation  in  the  world. 
"You're  headinjr  into  a  rougli  land,  Mr.  Ogden.  You  could  stay 


OOWESTjYOUNGMAN  iJ3 

in  the  great  state  of  New  York,  and  opportunity  would  bo  ever 
pounding  on  your  door.  I  know  all  about  you.  You're  a  well-to-do 
businessman,  you're  a  member  of  the  Legislature,  you're  a  friend  of 
the  President,  among  3'our  kinfolk  is  one  of  Mr.  Jackson's  chief 
advisors.  Let  me  ask  you  a  question,  Mr.  Ogden.  You  look  too  sound 
a  man  on  your  feet  and  in  your  head  to  be  swayed  entirely  bj'  Char- 
ley Butler's  oratory.  You're  giving  up  security  and  comfort  to  gam- 
ble. Wh}',  I  have  been  told  that  you're  likely  to  be  governor  of  New 
York  some  day — maybe  more  than  that.  W[\y  are  j'ou  coming  to 
Chicago?" 

Will  Ogden  sat,  silent.  George  Dole  waited,  his  stockinged  feet 
dangling  over  his  bunk. 

"Well,  Will,"  he  said  at  long  last — this  was  the  first  time  he  had 
called  his  companion  by  his  first  name — "well,  what  about  it.'"' 

"It's  this  way,  George,"  replied  Ogden  slowly.  "I'm  running  away 
from  something.  I'm  running  into  something.  As  you  say,  I  was  set- 
tled at  home,  but — "  he  hesitated — "but,  if  I  can  put  it  this  way, 
George,  the  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  saw  fit  to  take  away.  There  will 
always  be  a  loneliness,  back  there,  and  maybe  where  I'm  going,  I  can 
shake  it  off."  Will  Ogden  stopped,  abashed.  He  had  as  good  as  let 
out  his  secret — and  to  a  comparative  stranger. 

"The  Lord  gave,"  said  George  Dole  slowly,  "and,  as  you  say,  the 
Lord  saw  fit  to  take  away.  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord,  Will. 
Maybe  He  planned  it  that  way." 

The  little  man  rose  from  his  bunk,  stretched  out  his  hand.  Will 
returned  his  grasp. 

"You're  going  to  do  big  things  in  Chicago,"  said  George  Dole, 
"for  sure.  Captain  Slocombe's  rum  has  me  slightly  dizzy.  I'm  going 
to  bed." 

"I'll  take  a  turn  outside  first.  I  need  a  breath  of  good  night  air," 
said  Will  Ogden. 

Below  him,  in  the  belly  of  the  James  Madison,  the  close-packed 
throng  seemed  at  first  to  be  just  a  sea  of  heads.  The  night  was  star- 
lit, with  a  clear  new  moon.  Lake  Erie  was  smooth ;  the  ship  rose  and 
fell  gently.  When  he  had  stepped  out  of  his  candle-lit  cabin,  things 
had  seemed  at  first  a  sort  of  blur.  But  above  the  murmur  of  voices 
there  was  music,  singing.  The  people  below  him  were  on  their  way 


2*  MANOFVI8ION 

to  a  far  place,  an  unknown  place — but  thoy  acted  as  though  they 
were  mighty  happy  about  it. 

There  was  a  tangle  of  tongues  below  him;  there  was  talk  in  Ger- 
man, and  ho  caught  a  flow  of  words  in  French.  A  big  man — a  full 
six  inches  taller  than  I  am,  thought  Will — was  talking  to  a  com- 
panion. His  words  were  English,  but  his  accent  was  definitely  foreign. 
He  had  his  broad  back  to  the  wiicclhouse  structure,  and  his  head  was 
in  line  with  Will  Ogdcn's  boots.  His  companion,  definitely  a  New 
Englander  by  his  talk,  seemed  as  puzzled  as  Will  over  the  giant's 
nationality. 

"Where  you  come  from.?"  asked  New  England. 

"I  be  Cornishhhhh,"  hissed  the  big  man. 

"Cornish?  Where's  that?" 

"I  be  from  Cornwall,"  the  giant  answered,  "in  Britain.  You  call 
it  England.  We  call  it  Britain.  We  was  there  firstttt.  I  be  lead 
miner." 

"Where  are  you  heading  for?"  asked  the  New  Englander. 

"Galena,"  answered  the  Briton.  "Plenty  lead,  plenty  work  in 
Galena.  Lead,  she  all  dug  up  in  Cornwall.  Galena,  I  fix  up  good." 

"Big  city.  Galena,"  observed  the  New  Englander.  "Me,  I'm  from 
Massachusetts.  But  my  folks  came  from  England  and  this  is  the  first 
time  I  knew  there  was  any  others  but  English  living  there." 

"It  be  long  story,"  said  the  giant.  "What  be  you?" 

"I'm  a  road  builder.  Been  working  on  the  National  up  by  Cumber- 
land. I  figure  there's  going  to  be  lots  of  road  building  and  street 
making  around  Chicago." 

Will  Ogden  leaned  over,  tapped  the  New  Englaiider's  shoulder. 

"Pardon  my  listening,"  he  said  as  both  men  turned  around.  "But 
if  you're  a  road  builder  I'll  be  able  to  use  you  in  Chicago.  Surveyor?" 

"Yes,  sirree." 

"I  don't  know  where  I'll  be  stopping  as  yd,"  said  Will.  "But  you'll 
be  able  to  get  me  through  Newberry  and  Dole.  My  name  is  William 
Butler  Ogden.  We'll  dock  at  their  wharf,  Mr. — ?" 

"Hale,  William  Hale,"  answered  the  road  builder.  "Born  in  Bos- 
ton. My  dad  fought  under  Washington  all  over  the  place.  As  to 
where  you  can  find  me,  mister,  I'll  be  sleeping  under  the  stars, 
wrapped  in  my  blanket,  and  I'll  be  eating  as  long  as  five  dollars 
lasts.  Then  ril  sell  niv  blanket — " 


OOWESTjYOUNQMAN  25 

" — you'll  be  working  for  me  the  day  after  we  land,"  promised 
Will.  "If  you  need  an  advance — " 

William  Hale  raised  his  hand  as  though  brushing  something  away. 

"Maybe  I'll  need  it,  Mr.  Ogden — when  I  go  to  work.  Thanks,  but 
I'll  manage." 

The  lead  miner  had  been  listening  intently. 

"You  rich  man.  Mister  Hale,"  he  said  with  a  grin.  "Me,  when  I 
pay  my  boat  fare,  I  got  two  dollars." 

"And  you're  going  to  Galena!"  exclaimed  Ogden.  "Why,  that's 
nigh  onto  two  hundred  miles  from  Chicago.  How  are  you  going  to 
make  it?" 

"I  walk,  I  work,  I  eat,  I  get  there,"  replied  the  miner,  laughing. 

Why,  you  couldn't  dare  offer  money  to  a  man  like  that !  Tramping 
to  Galena  through  the  forests,  over  the  rough  trails,  with  settlers' 
cabins  maybe  a  day's  tramp  apart,  maybe  more.  Here  he  was, 
thought  Will, -with  two  thousand  dollars  on  his  person,  a  draft  for 
five  thousand  on  Robert  Kinzie.  More  could  be  had  as  he  needed  it. 
The  miner  had  come  3,000  miles,  the  roughest  part  of  his  long  jour- 
ney still  ahead  of  him;  the  road  builder  had  thrown  up  his  job,  was 
going  to  Chicago  with  but  very  little  more.  They  had  no  fear,  either 
of  them;  complete  faith  in  themselves,  complete  faith  in  the  future. 

"I'm  proud  to  have  met  you,  gentlemen,"  said  Will  Ogden. 

A  hush  had  descended  on  the  ship ;  the  babel  of  many  tongues  had 
ceased.  A  tall,  thin,  bareheaded  man  wearing  the  cassock  of  a  priest 
stood  on  a  packing  case  at  the  far  end  of  the  deck.  He  had  clapped 
his  hands  together  to  bring  silence.  Now  he  stood  with  one  arm  still 
raised  to  hold  attention. 

"Friends,"  he  said  in  a  clear  resonant  voice  which  carried  back 
easily  to  Will  Ogden.  "I'm  Father  O'Meara.  But  don't  be  alarmed. 
I  am  not  going  to  preach  to  you.  There  are  too  many  faiths  repre- 
sented among  you  for  me  to  so  presume.  We  are  embarked  on  a 
great  adventure.  We  have  come  from  many  lands ;  some  of  you 
speak  strange  tongues.  But  that  won't  last  long.  Very  soon  you  will 
be  talking  the  language  of  the  country  you  are  adopting  as  your 
own.  Those  of  you  who  have  been  born  in  America  have  an  advan- 
tage, as  have  those  like  myself  who  have  used  the  same  tongue  in 
other  countries.  But  all  in  all,  we  start  fairly  equal. 


26  MANOFVISION 

"We  are  poor  pt'ojjle,  all  of  us.  ..."  A>'i]I  Ogden  caught  a  brief 
smile  on  the  priest's  face  as  his  eyes  seemed  to  pass  over  the  well- 
dressed  figure  standing  by  the  wheelhouse;  later  they  were  to  be- 
come great  friends.  Father  O'Meara  in  1837  became  pastor  of  the 
Church  of  St.  Mary's  of  the  Lake  at  the  southwest  corner  of 
what  is  now  State  and  Lake  streets. 

"Yes,  3^ou  are  poor  in  the  things  of  this  world,"  went  on  Father 
O'Meara.  "But  that  does  not  bother  you.  You  are  rich  in  blessings, 
rich  in  opportunity.  You  cannot  fail.  The  courage  that  embarked 
you  on  this  journey  is  J'our  bulwark.  And  now,  if  you  will  permit 
me,  I  shall  sing  to  you  a  song  of  remembrance  recently  written  by 
my  fellow  Irishman,  that  brilliant  composer,  Tom  Moore." 

A  glorious  voice  swept  over  the  ship. 

Oft  in  the  stilly  night. 

Ere  slumber's  chain  has  bound  me. 

Fond  memory  brings  tlie  light 

Of  other  daj's  around  me ; 

The  smiles,  the  tears, 

Of  boyhood's  years. 

The  words  of  love  then  spoken.  .  .  . 

As  the  singer  ended  on  the  third  verse  there  came  seconds  of  si- 
lence before  applause  broke  out.  Father  O'Meara  was  helping  a  small 
wizened  man  up  onto  the  packing  case ;  one  hand  clasped  a  bow,  the 
other  an  ancient  fiddle.  The  little  man  arranged  himself,  snapped 
the  bow  across  the  strings  of  his  instrument,  broke  into  gay  music, 
as  Father  O'Meara  sang: 

Fly  on  the  sugar  bowl ! 
Shoo,  Fly  !  Shoo  ! 

Earlier,  Thomas  Moore's  new  song  would  have  made  Will  Ogden 
profoundly  miserable.  Now,  though  it  hud  stirred  him,  his  thoughts 
were  pleasant. 

A  girl  and  a  boy  were  jigging  down  there  on  the  deck  wliile  the 
throng,  led  by  Father  O'Meara,  was  clapping  hands  in  time  to  tiie 
fiddler's  rendition  of  Pop  Goes  the  Weasel! 


a 


lapter   4 


HIS     HONOR     THE     ]M  A  Y  O  R 


The  steamer  James  Madison  made  the  trip  from  Buffalo  in  four 
days.  The  vessel  was  overloaded,  and  Captain  Slocombe  proceeded 
slowly.  Calls  had  been  made  at  Cleveland  and  at  Detroit,  but  these 
stops  did  not  lessen  the  human  cargo  by  very  much.  About  sixty 
persons  disembarked  at  Cleveland,  less  than  forty  at  Detroit.  The 
Chicago  area  was  the  main  goal — the  city  for  those  who  planned 
to  enter  business  or  industry,  the  farm  lands  to  the  west  and  north- 
west for  those  who  intended  to  live  by  the  soil. 

On  the  morning  of  May  15,  1835,  Will  Ogden  caught  tlie  first 
glimpse  of  the  village  that  he  was  to  help  build  into  a  metropolis. 
There  had  been  a  heavy  rain  the  night  before,  but  the  sun  was  bright 
an'd  Lake  Michigan  sparkled.  The  shore  line  was  divided  about 
equally  between  grassy  meadow  and  fine  waterside  growths  of  maple, 
Cottonwood,  oak,  ash,  cherry,  elm,  birch,  and  hickory. 

The  steamer  passed  through  the  habor  basin — recently  deepened, 
as  George  Dole  pointed  out,  by  the  Federal  government  at  a  cost  of 
five  thousand  dollars — and  entered  the  river.  On  his  left  were  the 
neatly  kept,  whitewashed  stockade  and  buildings  of  Fort  Dearborn. 
At  the  base  of  the  slight  promontory  on  which  stood  the  military 
reservation,  straggled  a  street  of  houses,  stores,  and  inns.  At  the 
water's  edge  were  a  series  of  wharves  at  most  of  which  vessels  were 
either  loading  or  unloading.  On  Ogden's  right  was  a  large  brick 
structure,  the  only  imposing  building  in  sight ;  behind  were  green 
fields  and  patches  of  forest. 

"That's  where  j'ou'll  put  up,"  said  George  Dole.  "The  Lake 
House,  best  of  its  kind  between  here  and  New  York.  Business,  of 
course,  is  on  Water  Street,  but  A'ou  can  get  back  and  forth  across 

27 


28  MANOFVISION 

the  river  easy  enough,  what  witli  tlio  ferries  and  the  rope  bridge." 

"Where's  my  property?"  asked  Of^den. 

"Right  along  there  back  of  the  Lake  House,"  replied  Dole.  "From 
the  hotel  to  the  lake  is  all  Kinzie  land.  There's  the  old  Kinzie  house, 
the  one  with  the  Lombardy  poplars  around  it." 

The  river  was  clear  and  transparent.  The  mud  and  filth  of  Water 
Street  were  not  visible  from  the  deck  of  the  Jajiws  Madison.  The 
low  wooden  buildings  seemed  to  hold  out  a  promise ;  and  on  the  other 
bank  of  the  river  was  beauty.  The  bright  colors  of  the  flag  of  his 
country  waved  in  the  breeze  over  the  fort. 

Captain  Slocombe's  private  gangplank  was  lowered  ahead  of  those 
for  the  use  of  the  ordinary  passengers  and,  except  for  two  sailors. 
Will  Ogden,  closely  followed  by  George  Dole,  was  first  to  jjut  his 
foot  on  terra  firma — if  it  could  be  termed  terra  firma ! 

He  stepped  on  a  board,  and  it  flapped  upwards,  the  portion  where 
he  had  planted  his  foot  sinking  into  a  hole.  The  plank  jumped  about 
four  feet  at  its  farther  end,  bringing  with  it  a  rain  of  mud  which 
splashed  the  carefully  dressed  Ogden  from  head  to  toe. 

"Got  to  be  careful  in  the  rainy  season,"  Dole  laughingly  observed 
as  Will  wiped  mud  from  his  face  and  vest.  "But,  as  I  always  say, 
remember  Rome." 

"What  about  Rome?"  asked  Ogden  taking  out  a  second  handker- 
chief and  still  rubbing  away. 

"It  wasn't  built  in  a  day,"  laughed  Dole.  "Come  on,  don't  be  down- 
hearted; that's  good  Chicago  land  you're  wiping  off  your  face  and 
clothes,  and  it  will  do  right  by  you  in  the  end  even  if  it  was  a  bit 
rough  on  first  acquaintance.  My  men  will  take  your  things  to  your 
hotel,  and  now  we'll  walk  over  to  ]\Iark  Beaubien's  Sauganash  House. 
We'll  be  just  in  time  to  meet  the  bigwigs  of  the  town  ;  sort  of  weekly 
get-together,  this  is." 

Avoiding  mudholcs,  sometimes  skipping  from  plank  to  plank — he 
had  learned  to  hit  these  things  in  the  middle  or  not  at  all — ^^Vill 
Ogden  followed  his  rotund  little  guide,  wondering  as  he  walked. 

The  little  town  was  jammed  full  of  people,  all  sorts  and  conditions 
of  people:  trappers,  farmers,  merchants,  sailors,  soldiers,  adven- 
turers ;  they  pushed  and  shoved,  fought  for  firm  footing,  floundered 
in  the  mud,  staggered  against  stalled  wagons,  dodged  the  hoofs  of 
tired  horses.   The  stores  were  makeshift   affairs   out   of  which   and 


HISHONORTHEMAYOR  29 

into  which  people  were  forcing  theii-  way.  On  raised  boards,  barely 
out  of  reach  of  the  sticky  mud,  other  merchants  were  displaying 
wares  on  the  open  street. 

"Fifteen  thousand  people  here  if  there's  a  single  soul,"  cried 
George  Dole  as  he  himself  slid  in  the  mud  and  grabbed  at  his  com- 
panion to  keep  on  his  feet.  "That's  because  of  the  public  lands  auc- 
tion. You  haven't  much  time  to  get  your  lots  ready." 

Together  they  pushed  their  way  through  the  doors  of  a  large 
frame  building  which  opened  directly  into  a  huge,  raftered,  smoke- 
filled  room  witli  a  crowded  bar  at  the  far  end.  To  their  right  was  a 
large  alcove  furnisjied  with  several  long  tables  at  which  men  were 
noisily  eating  and  drinking. 

"There  are  our  friends  over  by  the  windows,"  said  George  Dole 
as  they  pushed  forward.  A  dozen  diners  arose  from  their  chairs  and 
greeted  the  little  merchant  vociferously.  They  remained  standing  as 
Dole  introduced  Ogden. 

"Friends,"  he  cried,  "a  new  Chicago  citizen,  the  Honorable  Wil- 
liam Butler  Ogden,  member  of  the  New  York  State  Assembly,  a 
friend  of  Andy  Jackson  and  a  friend  of  the  common  man  !  Mr.  Ogden 
is  giving  up  his  chances  of  becoming  governor  of  New  York  in  the 
not-so-far-distant  future  to  cast  in  his  lot  with  us.  He  is  interested 
in  land  and  also,  I  think,  even  more  interested  in  transportation. 
Come  along  now,  Will,  and  shake  hands." 

Grasping  his  friend  by  the  elbow,  George  Dole  marched  around 
the  table  shouting  each  name  as  its  owner  shook  hands  heartily  with 
the  new  arrival. 

"Elijah  W^entworth;  Grayson  Hubbard;  John  Calhoun,  wJio  edits 
our  newspaper,  the  Chicago  Democrat ;  Mark  Beaubien,  who  runs 
this  hotel  and  plays  the  fiddle ;  Doc  Pete  Pru3'ne,  who  doses  us  ;  Tom 
Owen ;  Archie  Clybourne ;  my  partner,  Walter  Newberry ;  Gholson 
Kercheval,  who  represents  Uncle  Sam  hereabouts ;  Captain  Wilcox 
from  the  garrison ;  John  Hogan,  our  postmaster.  That's  all  for  the 
time  being,  Will.  Now  sit  you  down.  AVait,  here's  Bob  Kinzie  just 
coming  in.  You've  got  a  draft  on  Bob  if  I  remember  right." 

Will  had  forgotten  his  mud  bath;  these  were  pleasant,  hearty 
men,  urging  him  to  eat  and  drink,  asking  for  news,  listening  with 
deepest  interest.  Keen-minded,  daring  men. 

They've  got  something  to  live  for,  thought  Will. 


30  M  A  N      O  F      V  I  8  I  O  N 

Witli  the  lulp  of  the  Cunibcrlimd  roiul  buildir,  William  Hale, 
Ogdcn  quickly  got  his  lots  into  selling  order.  There  was  labor  aplenty 
available  in  Chicago  in  the  early  summer  of  1835 — not  because  of 
any  depression,  but  because  of  the  huge  influx  of  men  intent  on  buy- 
ing lots  or  looking  to  establishment  of  business  after  the  tumult  of 
governmental  and  personally  conducted  auctions  had  died  down. 
These  people  were  not  the  tyj)e  to  sit  and  wait  for  things  to  happen. 
They  were  glad  to  do  a  day's  work  for  a  day's  pay. 

Within  three  weeks  Ogden  and  Hale  with  their  helpers  had  cleared 
the  fields  of  undergrowth,  marked  off  the  streets  and  lots,  and  were 
ready  for  their  customers.  Will  staked  off  the  land  for  his  own  house 
— he  was  no  longer  on  "a  journey  of  inspection"  but  had  determined, 
this  early,  come  weal  or  woe,  to  be  a  Chicagoan. 

The  site  of  this  mansion,  a  landmark  until  the  Great  Fire,  was 
bounded  on  the  east  by  Rush  Street,  on  the  south  by  Ontario,  on 
the  west  by  Cass,  and  on  the  north  by  Erie.  Walter  Newberry  was 
to  build  his  home  across  the  street  on  Rush,  and  St.  James's  Church 
was  soon  to  go  up  at  Erie  and  Huron.  Ogden,  a  genial  understand- 
ing mixer  but  never  a  boisterous  glad-handcr,  had  in  his  first  few 
days  of  residence  made  friends  of  all  the  influential  early  Chi- 
cagoans.  Back  in  New  York  and  Pennsylvania,  men  still  had  the 
coolness  and  stand-ofiislincss  of  their  English  ancestors  and  cousins. 
Ogdcn,  thinking  the  matter  over,  could  not  recall  a  single  fellow 
member  of  the  Legislature  who  had  ever  addressed  him  as  "Will"; 
here  in  Chicago,  barely  settled  down,  he  was  so  addressed  by  men 
who  ten  days  ago  had  been  unaware  of  his  existence;  and  they  ex- 
pected him  to  so  address  them.  First  names  and  their  abbreviations 
were  the  badges  of  camaraderie  among  the  argonauts  who  were  pull- 
ing this  muddy  village  into  a  great  outpost  of  empire. 

On  June  15,  1835,  the  government  public  auction  sale  of  "canal 
lands"  began,  the  most  important  sections  of  which  lay  between 
State  Street  and  the  lake,  bounded  on  the  north  by  Madison  Street 
and  on  the  south  by  what  appeared  on  the  maps  as  Thirty-fifth 
Street ;  another  important  section  of  these  public  lands  lay  in  the 
bend  of  the  Chicago  River  where  the  North  Branch  separated  from 
the  South  Branch,  bounded  on  the  south  by  Kinzie  Street  and  on 
the  north  by  Chicago  Avenue.  The  American  Land  Company's  lots, 
managed  by  Ogden,  lav  directly  south  of  the  above-mentioned  "canal 


HIS      HONOR     THE     MAYOR  31 

land"  bounded  by  Kinzie,  Rush,  Chicago  Avenue,  and  State  Street. 
A  further  stretch  of  "canal  land"  adjoined  Ogden's  lots  to  the  north, 
bounded  by  Chicago  Avenue,  State  Street,  the  lake,  and  North 
Avenue. 

The  governmental  auction  sale,  conducted  by  John  Bates  at  his 
place  of  business  on  the  west  side  of  Dearborn  Street  near  Water, 
brought  in  during  the  two  weeks'  sale  a  total  of  $354,278.57.  Other 
governmental  sales  made  during  this  period  through  preemption  laws 
and  private  entry  totaled  $105,680.19.  The  average  price  of  lots 
was  $100  as  compared  with  $50  for  the  previous  year.  A  good  au- 
gury for  Will  Ogden's  enterprise.  At  his  own  sale,  immediately  fol- 
lowing that  of  the  government,  he  disposed  of  slightly  more  than  a 
third  of  the  property  for  $78,000.  That  meant  that  Charles  Butler 
and  he  had  cleared  within  $22,000  of  the  original  investment  and 
commitment  of  $100,000  and  still  owned  two-thirds  of  their  acreage. 
In  a  real-estate  brokerage  venture  of  his  own,  Will  Ogden  later  took 
into  partnership  a  bright,  aggressive,  Pennsylvania  youth,  William 
E.  Jones.  The  firai  called  itself  Ogden,  Jones  and  Company,  han- 
dling the  Butler  land  and  further  propert}^  investments  of  George 
Bronson,  who  had  originally  sold  the  acreage  to  Charles  Butler. 
Bronson  moved  permanently  to  Chicago  in  the  summer  of  18.35  as 
did  Mahlon  Ogden,  Will's  younger  brother,  who  entered  into  a  law 
partnership  with  Isaac  N.  Arnold.  Ogden,  Jones  and  Compan}'  later 
became  Ogden,  Fleetwood  and  Company,  then  Ogden,  Sheldon  and 
Companj',  under  which  name  it  stiU  operates  In  Chicago — the  oldest 
real-estate  firm  in  the  city,  possibly  the  oldest  in  the  country. 

Eighteen  thirtA'-five  had  been  a  boom  year  for  Chicago,  and  1836 
seemed  to  be  going  even  better.  Excavation  had  been  begun  on  the 
state-financed  Illinois  and  Michigan  Canal,  and  Will  Ogden,  through 
his  now-trusted  lieutenant,  William  Hale,  had  taken  a  contract  for 
a  portion  of  the  "ditch"  which  was  to  connect  the  lakes  with  the 
Mississippi  through  the  Illinois  River  and  so,  it  was  planned,  make 
Chicago  the  greatest  supply  and  receiving  mart  in  the  country — 
reachable  wholly  by  water. 

The  most  important  event  concerning  the  subsequent  career  of 
William  Butler  Ogden — though  he  was  quite  unaware  of  it  at  the 
time — occurred  on  January  16,  1836,  when  the  Illinois  Legislature 


82  MANOFVISION 

ffrantcd  a  special  cliartcr  for  the  incorporation  of  the  Galena  and 
Chicago  Union  Railroad  to  build  a  line  out  into  the  prairie  country 
toward  the  Mississippi  "near  the  lead  mines  of  Galena,  Illinois  and 
Dubuque,  Iowa."  Thus  the  parent  "germ"  of  the  Chicago  and  North 
Western  Railway  System. 

At  the  first  meeting  of  the  incorporators,  Theophilus  W.  Smith 
was  chosen  president  with  the  following  Board  of  Directors:  Ed- 
mund D.  Taylor,  Josiah  C.  Goodhue,  John  T.  Temple,  Gregory 
Smith,  Ebcnezer  Peck,  and  James  H.  Collins.  The  charter  provided 
for  a  railroad  "from  Galena  in  Jo  Daviess  County  to  the  Town  of 
Chicago."  The  capital  stock  was  fixed  at  one  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars, and  Section  7  provided  that  "if  at  any  time  after  the  passage 
of  this  act  it  shall  be  deemed  advisable  by  the  directors  of  the  said 
corporation  to  make  and  construct  a  good  and  permanent  turnpike 
road  upon  any  portion  of  the  route  of  the  railroad,  then  said  direc- 
tors are  authorized  and  empowered  to  construct  a  turnpike  .  .  . 
and  as  many  toll  gates  as  shall  be  deemed  necessary  thereon."  After 
fixing  the  tolls  for  people,  horses,  oxen,  and  wagons,  the  directors 
agreed  that  "sleighs  used  in  summertime  should  be  charged  one-half 
of  the  •winter  price." 

The  directors,  somewhat  railroad-minded,  were  not  as  yet  entirely 
un-higliway-mindcd ! 

In  March,  1837,  the  town  of  Chicago,  by  act  of  the  State  Legisla- 
ture, became  a  city,  and  its  people  looked  around  for  their  first 
mayor.  There  were  two  candidates — John  H.  Kinzie,  a  son  of  the 
original  settler  and  first  Indian  agent — and  William  Butler  Ogden. 
The  election  was  held  May  2  in  the  then  six  wards  of  the  new  munici- 
pality— and  Ogden  won  easily. 

He  had  accomplished  tremendous  things  between  the  date  of  his 
arrival  in  Chicago  and  his  election  as  its  first  chief  executive — two 
brief,  busy  years.  Looking  back  at  the  record  it  seems  almost  in- 
credible that  one  man  could  crowd  so  much  constructive  activity  into 
such  a  short  space  of  time. 

He  had  succeeded  in  selling  all  the  lots  on  the  property  he  shared 
•with  Charles  Butler;  he  was  interested  financially,  as  owner  or  as 
partner,  in  other  parcels  of  real  estate  to  the  north,  south,  east,  and 
west  of  the  city;  his  firm  represented  many  eastern  holders  of  Chi- 


HISHONORTHEMAYOR  33 

cago  property.  He  had  developed  the  construction  portion  of  his  busi- 
ness so  that  he  was  laying  out,  paving,  lengthening,  and  repairing 
all  of  the  streets  that  lay  north  of  the  Chicago  River ;  he  built  homes 
through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  near  North  Side ;  he  was  one 
of  the  major  contractors  on  the  work  of  digging  the  Illinois  and 
Michigan  Canal;  he  had,  himself,  designed  and  built  the  first  floating 
swing  bridge  over  the  river  and  he  was  to  plan  and  construct  many 
more  of  these  necessary  aids  to  city  traffic  and  enlargement ;  he  was 
building  Chicago's  first  large-size  factory  for  Cyrus  McCormick's 
reaping  and  mowing  machines ;  he  held  the  sales  agency  for  McCor- 
mick's inventions  in  the  rapidly  increasing  farming  communities  to 
the  immediate  west  of  the  new  city's  limits. 

An  extremely  busy  man,  you  might  say — aside  from  assuming  the 
duties  of  chief  executive — and  almost  on  the  dot  as  he  took  his  seat 
the  bubble  burst ;  the  land  boom  of  the  Middle  West  crashed !  Up  to 
this  time  everything  had  been  prosperous  in  the  lake  city ;  all  things 
had  seemed  to  point  to  even  more  prosperity.  But  a  financial  revul- 
sion swept  down  with  almost  lightninglike  speed  upon  the  entii'e 
country — on  the  heels  of  a  four-year  craze  of  speculation.  Immigra- 
tion to  the  West  stopped  overnight ;  business  stagnated ;  city  prop- 
erty became  almost  worthless ;  nobody  wanted  to  buy,  everybody 
wanted  to  sell. 

If  Chicago  awoke  to  find  itself  in  a  bad  way,  the  state  of  Illinois 
was  in  much  worse  shape — almost  hopelessly  in  debt.  The  biggest 
headache  was  the  canal  which  was  to  provide  the  much  vaunted 
waterway  from  the  lake,  to  the  river,  to  the  sea.  Other  state  moneys 
had  been  poured  into  disconnected  and  uncompleted  portions  of 
railroads.  Private  insolvency  was  the  rule  rather  than  the  exception. 
Many  farmers  deserted  their  farms ;  the  state's  debts  pointed  to 
heavy  taxation,  the  eventual  loss  of  their  property  if  they  remained. 
Shutters  went  up  on  scores  of  Chicago  stores ;  the  operators  of 
others  took  what  they  could  lay  their  hands  on  and  departed.  The 
state  of  Mississippi  repudiated  her  debts,  and  in  the  Illinois  Legisla- 
ture there  was  a  strong  bloc  that  sought  to  solve  the  Illinois  problem 
in  the  same  fashion.  The  cry  "repudiation"  spread  through  the  coun- 
try, got  its  hold  on  Chicago.  A  crowd  stormed  into  the  office  of 
Mayor  Ogden  demanding  that  he  urge  "relief  laws"  on  the  Lcgisla- 


Ji  M  A  N      O  !■■      V  I  S  I  O  N 

turo,  tliat  tla-  local  courts  .susjjcnd  compulsory  fulfillment  of  cuf^agu- 
ments,  tliat  a  moratorium  be  declared  on  delinquent  taxes. 

"Citizens  of  Chicago,"  said  the  mayor  after  his  raised  arms  and 
his  commanding  presence  had  brought  silence  to  the  angry  throng, 
"do  not  commit  the  folly  of  proclaiming  your  own  dishonor.  Many 
a  fortress  has  been  saved  by  the  courage  of  its  inmates  and  their 
determination  to  conceal  its  weakened  condition.  Let  our  real  state 
be  known,  and  destruction  will  be  inevitable  and  immediate.  Above 
all  things,  do  not  tarnish  the  honor  of  this  infant  city." 

Somebody  cheered;  the  crowd  departed,  a  few  of  them  repeating 
his  words,  "The  honor  of  this  city  !" 

And  Mayor  Ogden,  at  the  time  he  spoke  Ills  brave  words,  was 
hardly  more  solvent  than  the  most  harassed  debtor  in  his  audience! 

He  had  laid  streets — and  had  not  been  paid  for  his  work;  but  his 
workmen  had  been  paid.  He  had  dug  part  of  the  uncompleted  canal, 
and  the  state  had  no  money  to  give  him ;  but  he  had  paid  his  diggers. 
He  had  built  McCormick's  factory,  and  the  farmers  who  bought  the 
machines  had  been  unable  to  make  their  payments ;  but  the  carpen- 
ters and  the  bricklayers  had  got  their  money  from  him,  day  and  date. 
He  had  houses  a-building — and  those  who  had  commissioned  him  to 
erect  them  had  no  money  with  which  to  pay  him.  Charles  Butler, 
his  faitli  in  Chicago's  future  still  unswerving,  had  denuded  himself 
of  all  liis  profits,  tossed  them  back  into  the  tottering  venture. 

As  the  last  of  the  crowd  disappeared  through  the  doors  of  his 
office,  the  mayor  of  Chicago  wearily  picked  up  a  sheet  of  figures.  He 
could  quit  his  adopted  city,  penniless.  He  could  go  back  to  his  saw- 
mill by  the  Delaware  River,  still  efficiently  operated  by  Cousin 
George  Weed.  Business  was  not  as  good  as  it  had  been  in  Walton, 
but  the  eastern  lumber  market  had  not  been  hit  as  had  other  markets. 

Go  back  and  take  it  easy  and  stare  across  the  river — at  what 
might  have  been ! 

The  mayor  walked  to  a  window  of  his  office — a  window  which  gave 
him  a  view  of  the  four  corners  of  Clark  and  Lake  streets.  What  he 
could  see  of  the  river  was  almost  empty  of  vessels.  Yesterday  a  ship 
from  Buff'alo  carrying  700  barrels  of  flour  had  come  into  port.  This 
morning  it  had  gone  back  East,  still  loaded.  Nobody  in  Chicago  had 
the  price  of  a  shipload  of  flour.  Below  him  the  streets  were  deserted. 


HISHONORTHEMAYOR  35 

The  angry  debtors  had  dispersed  to  their  homes — to  worry  over  the 
future,  to  thinii  over  what  he  had  told  them. 

"I  told  them  to  have  faith" — Will  Ogden  was  talking  to  himself — 
"how  do  I  dare  let  other  thoughts  enter  my  head !" 

He  stepped  to  an  outer  office  where  William  Hale  was  poring  over 
his  canal  contract  accounts. 

"William,"  said  the  mayor,  "the  James  Madison  will  be  pulling 
out  of  here  for  Buffalo  this  evening;  I  want  you  to  go  to  Walton  with 
all  speed  with  a  letter  to  ray  cousin,  which  I  shall  now  write.  I  want 
him  to  raise  every  penny  he  can  on  my  properties  there — and  as 
quickly  as  he  can.  Stay  there  till  he  gets  it.  He  has  my  power  of 
attorney.  Then  rush  back  here  with  a  letter  of  credit  for  the  full 
amount." 

"Why,  Mr.  Mayor,"  said  Hale,  "that's  your  nest  egg,  isn't  it? 
Are  you  going  to  toss  it  all  into  the  pot.'"' 

"My  nest  egg  is  here  in  Chicago,  William,"  said  the  maj-or  with  a 
smile.  "But  right  now  it  needs  some  mothering,  if  it  is  going  to  hatch." 

Depressions  come  and  go  in  this  land  of  ours ;  always  we  man- 
age in  some  fashion  to  rise  superior  to  them;  and  it  was  so  with  the 
panic  and  ensuing  depression  of  1837.  Seventy-eight  bushels  of  wheat 
went  out  of  Chicago  in  the  year  of  1838;  but  there  were  more  than 
3,700  bushels  shipped  out  in  1839.  In  18-15  more  than  a  million 
bushels  were  exported  from  the  city,  and  that  amount  was  doubled 
in  the  following  year.  In  1837  the  harbor  of  Chicago  exported  to 
the  value  of  but  eleven  hundred  dollars.  In  1846,  2,790  vessels  ar- 
rived in  port  carrying  merchandise  valued  at  $4,938,000. 

As  the  depression  receded  and  as  Will  Ogden  cleared  the  mortgage 
on  his  loved  eastern  home,  the  products  of  the  richest  agricultural 
portion  of  the  Middle  West  poured  into  Chicago,  bound  for  the 
hungry  markets  to  the  East — wheat,  flour,  corn,  oats,  and  meat. 
Not  a  bushel  of  wheat  went  out  of  Chicago  in  1836 ;  but  ten  years 
later  the  amount  exported  was  2,160,000  bushels,  one-quarter  of 
which  went  directly  to  Europe.  Four  years  later  Chicago  became 
the  country's  foremost  market  in  the  handling  of  meat  and  lumber. 

Jonathan  Young  Scammon,  known  to  his  intimates  as  "J.  Young," 
a  big,  jovial,  bearded  "down-Easterner" — he  was  born  in  Maine — 


36  MANOFVISION 

tiinifd  in  at  Hil-  jrato  of  William  Butler  O/jfk'ii'.s  home  on  Ontario 
Street  one  bright  November  morning  of  18-i5  and  caught  Ogden  as 
he  was  coming  through  the  front  door  on  his  way  to  his  offices  at 
Clark  and  Madison  streets.  They  walked  along  together,  crossing 
the  river  on  Mr.  Ogden's  Clark  Street  bridge. 

J.  Young  Scammon  was  a  man  after  Will  Ogden's  heart ;  they 
were  cast,  you  might  say,  in  something  of  the  same  mold.  The  Scam- 
mons  were  early  Irish  settlers.  J.  Young's  father,  a  fanner,  was 
also  a  member  of  the  Maine  State  Legislature  and  planned  to  have 
his  son  follow  in  his  steps.  But  at  the  age  of  fourteen  the  boy  lost 
two  fingers  of  his  left  hand  in  an  accident. 

"You'll  be  no  use  for  farming,  son,"  said  Eliakim  Scammon. 
"Guess  you'll  have  to  make  a  lawyer  out  of  yourself." 

So  J.  Young  attended  college  at  Waterville,  Maine,  but  failed  to 
graduate  because  of  lack  of  means,  his  father's  ambitions  for  him 
being  slightly  ahead  of  the  capacity  of  his  purse.  In  1832,  when  he 
was  twenty  years  of  age,  he  apprenticed  himself  to  Lawyer  John  Otis 
of  Hallowell,  taught  school  as  a  means  of  subsistence,  and  was  ad- 
mitted to  the  bar  in  1835. 

He  had  heard  of  Chicago  and  there  he  planned  to  go — to  the  fan- 
tasticalh'  sprouting  village  by  the  shores  of  Lake  Michigan.  In  Sep- 
tember, 1835 — six  months  after  W'ill  Ogden  had  made  a  similar 
journey  with  far  brighter  prospects — Scammon  arrived  at  Newberry 
and  Dole's  wharf  aboard  the  good  ship  Erie  Canal  with  his  lawyer's 
certificate  and  ten  dollars.  Chicago  needed  about  everything — and 
among  its  most  pressing  needs  were  bright  young  lawyers,  A  week 
after  his  arrival,  with  his  bill  at  Mark  Bcaubien's  Sauganash  House 
his  chief  worry,  he  was  appointed  deputy  clerk  of  the  Circuit  Court. 

Inside  of  a  year  Scammon  had  entered  practice  in  partnership 
with  Morris  Buckner.  Branching  out  of  his  profession,  while  still 
retaining  an  active  interest  in  it,  he  went  into  real  estate  on  a  shoe- 
string, reaped  a  fortune,  and  lost  it.  He  regained  it,  lost  it  in  a 
series  of  newspaper  ventures ;  regained  it  in  railroad  investment,  man- 
agement, and  organization;  lost  it  again  in  the  Chicago  Fire.  A 
third  time  he  regained  it  in  real  estate,  lost  it  for  the  last  time  in 
bank  failures.  He  died  in  1890  at  the  age  of  seventy-eight — broke. 

J.  Young  Scammon  was  one  of  the  most  popular  of  the  early  Chi- 
cago pioneers,  whether  luck  was  with  him  or  against  him.  A  genial, 


HISHONORTHEMAYOR  37 

hearty  man,  deeply  religious,  his  mistakes  were  his  own,  and  he  shoul- 
dered them ;  they  were  largely  due  to  his  intense  enthusiasm  over  the 
city  of  his  adoption.  He  made  several  fortunes  easily  and  seemed 
to  lose  them  just  as  easily.  He  was  the  earliest  advocate  of  free 
schools,  a  founder  of  the  Chicago  Historical  Society,  an  organizer 
of — and  generous  donor  to,  when  he  had  it — the  University  of  Chi- 
cago. 

As  Ogden  and  liis  ebullient  friend  strolled  over  the  Clark  Street 
bridge,  Scammon  observed,  "Those  farmers  out  Kockford  way  want 
that  railroad  plan  revived." 

"You  mean  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union,"  said  Ogden.  "I've 
been  giving  that  matter  some  thought  myself.  Been  interested  in  it 
ever  since  it  was  started  and  ever  since  it  flopped." 

"Sort  of  figured  you  were,"  said  Scammon.  "They're  calling  a 
meeting  in  Rockford  for  the  twenty-eighth.  They've  asked  me  to  go 
along  and  they  also  asked  me  to  find  out  if  you  would  come  with  me." 

"I  certainly  will,"  replied  Ogden,  "That  link  with  Chicago  is  long 
overdue." 


Cl 


2(7 pier    6 

G  A  L  E  N  A  —  r  R  A  I  R  I  E     CAPITAL 


Let's  talk  of  Galena,  with  whicli  William  Butler  Of^den  had  de- 
cided Chicaijo  should  be  linked  in  the  first  railroad  of  the  city  of  his 
adoption. 

Years  before  the  first  settlers  trickled  into  nortliern  Illinois,  the 
district  around  Galena  had  been  explored.  Hennepin's  map  of  1687 
locates  a  lead  mine  on  the  present  site  of  the  city,  and  French  trad- 
ers were  reported  buying  lead  in  quantity  from  the  Indians  in  1690.* 

In  1819  an  expedition  of  eight  boats  carrying  a  hundred  slaves, 
in  charge  of  Colonel  R.  M.  Johnson,  left  St.  Louis  and  after  a  voy- 
age of  twenty  days  reached  the  site  of  Galena.  Colonel  Johnson  made 
a  permanent  treaty  with  the  Indians  for  permission  to  mine  the  lead. 
It  took  him  about  two  years  to  get  started,  but  by  1821  he  was  mov- 
ing lead  in  quantity.  Between  1821  and  1823  he  shipped  an  aggre- 
gate of  335,000  pounds  a  year;  this  went  to  5,000,000  pounds  in 
1827  and  in  1829  to  13,34-i,150  pounds.f 

In  1824)  a  store  was  opened  in  the  village,  and  the  first  colony  of 
white  settlers  arrived.  This  colony  was  under  the  command  of  Dr. 
Meeker  and  hailed  from  Cincinnati.  They  came  on  a  keelboat,  and 
the  journey  took  sixty  days.  The  opening  of  the  store  made  Galena 
in  a  way  independent  of  Peoria,  to  which  one  had  had  to  go  previ- 
ously to  purchase  necessities. 

Immigration  now  flowed  in  rapidly,  and  mining  camps  were  opened 
at  Shullsburg,  East  Fork,  and  New  Diggings.  In  April  of  1826  more 
than  two  hundred  men  were  digging  in  the  vicinity  of  Galena.  That 
number  had  increased  to  more  than  four  hundred  by  June.  In  the 

*  Thwaites,  R.  G.,  Notes  on  Early  Lead  ^finiiu).  Pujiers  Collected  by  Wisconsin 
State  Historienl  Society. 

t  "Illinois  nnd  Her  Restnirces,"  Iliiiifs  ^Terrhaiits'  Mar/atlnc,  1888. 
;i8 


GALENA PRAIRIE      CAPITAL  39 

entire  adjacent  mining  teri-itory  it  was  estimated  that  1,600  men 
were  at  work. 

The  fame  of  the  lead  mines  spread  abroad,  and  immigrants  poured 
in,  mostly  from  southwestern  England,  where  the  famed  lead  mines 
were  beginning  to  show  signs  of  petering  out.  In  1826  the  maj'or  of 
Galena  reported  that  the  town  had  "twenty  cabins  and  550  inhabi- 
tants." In  1827  his  report  showed  100  houses  and  stores  and  "be- 
tween six  and  seven  thousand  people  residing  in  the  district."  The 
immigrants  were  in  the  majorit}'  Cornishmen,  and  the  balance  was 
about  equally  divided  between  native-born  Americans,  Frenchmen, 
and  Irishmen.  The  Winnebago  War  of  1827  sent  the  miners  in  the 
outlying  regions  scurrying  to  the  shelter  of  Galena  where  they  were 
bottled  up  for  three  months ;  with  peace  they  scattered  again  to  the 
diggings. 

That  same  3'ear  Jo  Daviess  Count}'  was  organized,  the  town  of 
Galena  was  surveyed  and  divided  into  lots.  Though  organized  as  a 
county  of  Illinois,  the  settlers  were  not  enthusiastic  about  this  al- 
legiance; they  wanted  to  form  a  state  of  their  own  and  in  1828  peti- 
tioned Congress  that  a  section  noii:h  of  the  line  of  1787  be  organized 
into  a  territory,  with  Galena  as  the  seat  of  government.  Nothing  was 
done,  but  in  the  forties  the  northern  counties  of  Illinois  tried  again 
to  separate.  The  boundary  question  was  thereupon  settled  on  the 
present  line. 

The  lead-region  population  increased  amazingly,  and  with  this  out- 
side impetus  Galena  grew  as  the  market  place  and  the  base  of  supplies. 
In  1830,  when  the  Illinois  and  Michigan  Canal  Commission,  empow- 
ered by  the  Legislature  to  proceed,  employed  James  Thompson  to 
"plat  a  town  to  be  called  Chicago"  Galena  was  already  incorporated 
and  boasted  some  900  residents,  "a  most  singular  and  mysterious 
medley  of  people  from  all  quarters  of  the  eai'th  seeking  wealth."  * 

In  1832  the  special  correspondent  of  the  Baltimore  American  esti- 
mated the  populace  at  "from  five  to  seven  thousand  inhabitants."  At 
this  time  the  most  optimistic  of  Chicagoans  figured  their  strength  at 
250  people.  Galena  grew,  a  prosperous  mercantile  headquarters  in 
the  middle  of  a  far-flung  mining  region.  "For  miles  around,"  stated 

'  Reynolds,  IlUtory  of  Illinois,  1871. 


40  MANOFVISION 

Nilcs's  licgistcr,  "tho  region  wiis  dotted  with  :uining  camps  and  trad- 
ing posts." 

In  1832  came  the  Black  Hawk  War,  and  the  out-of-town  miners 
were  scurrying  once  again  to  the  shelter  of  the  city.  But  the  Battle 
of  Bad  Axe  forever  broke  the  power  of  the  Sac  and  Fox  Indians,  and 
when,  by  the  ensuing  treaty,  the  Indians  were  removed  beyond  the 
Mississippi,  the  miners  returned  to  their  camps,  as  assured  as  were 
the  already  advancing  hordes  of  innnigrants  on  Chicago  that  "the 
West  was  safe." 

From  this  time  on,  Galena  was  slowly  to  lose  the  characteristics 
of  a  frontier  town.  It  began  to  dabble  in  varied  industries,  to  acquire 
a  degree  of  culture.  In  1830  it  had  five  churches  and  a  chapel,  a 
temperance  society,  a  library  association,  a  fire  department,  a 
branch  of  the  State  Bank  of  Illinois ;  there  was  an  annual  ball,  han- 
dled by  the  elite  of  lead-mining  society;  there  was  a  sound,  re- 
spected newspaper,  the  Northwestern  Gazette  and  Galena  Advertiser. 

In  1839,  when  William  Butler  Ogden  was  completing  the  last  lap 
of  his  term  of  office  as  Chicago's  first  mayor,  the  city  of  Galena 
proper  boasted  550  buildings,  a  population  of  3,000,  and  an  assessed 
value  of  $1,700,000.  Around  the  city,  and  dependent  upon  it  for 
trade  and  the  necessaries  for  existence,  were  between  eight  and  ten 
thousand  miners  and  their  families.  The  Madison  (Wisconsin)  Ex- 
press referred  to  Galena  at  this  time  as  "the  largest  and  most 
flourishing  city  of  the  W^est,  north  of  St.  Louis."  Its  location  was 
peculiar,  crowded  together  as  were  its  houses  on  the  edge  of  the 
river  bluffs.  With  a  permanent  resident  list  of  around  three  thousand 
the  population  always  shifted  with  mine  layoffs,  new  discoveries,  and 
the  arrival  and  departure  of  immigrants ;  idle  miners,  whether  idle 
by  choice  or  otherwise,  crowded  into  the  town.  The  election  officials 
were  always  in  a  dither.  As  Niles's  Register  put  it,  "The  inhabitants 
shift  about  so  from  place  to  place,  and  so  many  of  them  live  in  the 
holes  and  clefts  of  the  rocks  that  it  is  difficult  to  say  where  they 
belong." 

As  already  told,  the  original  charter  of  the  Galena  and  Chicago 
Union  Railroad  had  been  granted  by  the  Illinois  Legislature  on 
January  16,  1836.  Work  had  been  suspended  in  1838  because  of  the 
depression  of  the  previous  year.  Eight  more  years  were  to  elapse — 
while  the  piles  and  stringers  rotted  on  Chicago's  Madison  Street — 


GALENA PRAIRIE      CAPITAL  41 

before  Ogden  and  his  associates  prodded  the  dream  once  more  into 
reahty. 

Meantime  Galena  changed  mightily.  The  Rock  River  Valley  had 
filled  up  with  farmers;  tariff  regulations  as  well  as  thinning  veins  of 
lead  closed  down  the  furnaces.  Almost  overnight,  one  might  say,  the 
exportation  of  wheat  took  the  place  of  the  exportation  of  lead.  Here, 
too,  was  the  most  convenient  trading  post  of  the  region.  The  amount 
of  exports  in  the  forties  was  greater  than  that  of  any  town  adjacent 
to  the  Mississippi  above  St.  Louis,  Thirty  thousand  families  were 
dependent  upon  Galena  for  their  supplies  of  merchandise.  Despite 
the  drop  in  lead  and  because  of  the  increase  in  loads  of  wheat, 
Galena's  population  practically  doubled  between  1839  and  1846,  at 
which  latter  date  the  railroad  plan  had  again  come  to  life. 

In  the  period  of  its  transition  from  frontier  town  to  supply  and 
shipping  headquarters  for  a  rapidly  growing  agricultural  com- 
munity, Galena  owed  its  good  fortune  to  lack  of  any  railroad  com- 
munication anywhere  in  the  state  and  to  the  fact  that  it  was  perched 
most  strategically  as  regarded  Its  clientele,  close  to  the  greatest  of 
all  waterways,  in  direct  communication  with  the  southern  and  for- 
eign markets — for  which  it  served  as  collector.  Galena  was  also 
the  distributing  point  for  supplies  to  the  people  of  the  Rock  River 
Valley  brought  up  the  river  and  so  it  remained  until  the  Illinois  Cen- 
tral Railroad  penetrated  its  sphere  of  influence  and  drained  the 
trade  of  the  farming  districts  to  the  Great  Lake  port  of  Chicago. 
Through  a  chain  of  circumstances,  Ogden's  Galena  and  Chicago 
Union  road  was  many  years  getting  to  Galena. 

The  Rock  River  Valley  as  of  today  is  a  question-mark-shaped 
piece  of  land  in  northern  Elinois,  traversed  north  and  south  through 
its  center  by  the  Rock  River.  The  soldiers  serving  in  the  Black  Hawk 
War,  the  great  majority  of  them  from  the  eastern  states,  liked  the 
Rock  River  Valley.  When  they  returned  home  they  spread  word  of 
the  beauty  of  the  country  and  the  fertility  of  the  soil;  these  sales 
talks,  combined  with  the  signing  of  the  peace  and  the  expulsion  of 
the  Indians,  brought  the  vanguard  of  the  New  England  and  Middle 
States  pioneers  to  northern  Illinois. 

The  northern  portion  of  the  valley,  however,  did  not,  during  the 
very  early  years,  make  as  much  headway  as  did  the  southern  section 


MAN     OF     VISION 


wlicre  towns  sucli  as  Fulton,  Prophctstown,  Sterling,  Dixon,  and 
Oregon  were  founded.  Rockford  began  its  growth  in  1835  and 
moved  quickly;  inside  of  a  jxar  log  cabins  had  been  supplanted  by 
frame  houses.  During  the  same  period  many  settlers  came  to  Stephen- 
son County,  a  majority  of  them  lead  miners  from  Galena  who,  be- 
cause of  the  slump  in  lead  production,  had  decided  to  become  farm- 
ers while  good  land  was  still  available.  The  most  important  settle- 
ment was  Frecport,  where  fifty  families  established  themselves  in 
1836. 

This  early  period  of  settlement  in  the  valley  may  be  taken  as 
typical  of  the  progress  of  settlement  into  a  new  country.  The  river 
served  as  the  highway  of  communication  with  the  outer  world ;  the 
two  great  roads  through  the  valley,  the  one  crossing  the  river  at 
Dixon,  the  other  at  Rockford,  also  played  their  part.  Gradually  the 
filling-in  process  took  place,  and  numerous  smaller  towns  dotted 
the  banks  of  the  river.  Along  the  two  great  wagon  roads,  settlements 
were  also  found,  but  these  were  not  to  develop  even  into  villages  until 
the  railroads  came. 

The  towns,  so  far,  had  shown  no  signs  of  becoming  cities  and  were 
not  to  make  rapid  strides  for  another  decade.  The  reason  was  simple. 
Lines  of  transportation  were  not  developed,  save  a  poor  one  on  the 
Rock  River.  Lack  of  transportation  facilities  cause  a  lack  of  mar- 
kets, and  since  good  markets  help  in  the  development  of  an  agricul- 
tural district  and  are  dependent  upon  this  development  for  support, 
it  seems  that  the  jjroblem  of  transportation  was  to  be  the  key  to  the 
situation.  In  the  interacting  influences  of  agriculture  and  steam 
was  to  be  found  the  solution  of  the  prairie  problem. 

Other  conditions  unfavorable  to  the  rapid  settling  of  the  country 
also  prevailed.  Markets  were  scarce.  The  Rock  River  man  was  com- 
pelled to  cart  his  produce  to  Galena  or  Savanna,  on  the  Mississippi 
River,  or  to  Chicago  if  he  had  a  great  quantity  to  sell.  The  expense 
of  transportation  taken  in  connection  with  the  value  of  his  time  left 
little  or  no  reward  for  the  farmer  who  journeyed  to  market.  To 
Galena  was  a  trip  of  a  week  or  more;  to  Chicago,  anywhere  from 
fourteen  to  twenty  days;  and  after  arriving,  his  wheat  was  worth 
but  forty  or  fifty  cents  a  bushel. 

In  spite  of  these  drawbacks  there  was  a  Rock  River  immigration 
fever  prevalent  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  and  settlers  poured  in 


GALENA PRAIRIE      CAPITAL  43 

and  scattered  themselves  along  the  timbered  portions  until  in  1840 
the  population  of  the  valley  had  reached  21,500.  After  18-i3  the 
country  filled  up  with  amazing  rapidity  and  by  18-18  had  in  it  over 
66,000  settlers. 

This  great  increase  may  be  attributed  to  several  causes.  The  Rock 
River  country  was  known  as  a  place  of  extraordinary  facilities  for 
agriculture.  Those  coming  during  the  period  previous  to  184i3  had 
sent  extremely  favorable  reports  to  the  East,  and  naturally  others 
followed  the  lead  of  the  pioneers.  The  financial  chaos  was  over,  and 
money  was  again  becoming  plentiful.  Illinois  began  to  regain  her 
good  name,  lost  with  the  breaking  down  of  her  internal  improvement 
scheme,  and  her  half-notion  of  repudiation  of  her  debts.  Heavy  taxes, 
too,  had  kept  many  away,  but  with  the  reestablishment  of  the  state 
finances  upon  a  firm  and  honorable  basis,  immigration  began  anew. 
Finally  the  railroad  through  from  Chicago  to  Galena  was  promised 
and  before  the  close  of  the  decade  seemed  an  assured  fact.  Many 
flocked  to  the  neighborhood  of  its  route,  seeing  its  value  as  a  market 
maker. 

Rockford  was  the  metropolis  of  the  northern  prairies  and  enjoyed 
the  most  rapid  and  steady  growth  of  any  of  the  towns  along  the 
river.  The  Winnebago  farmers  were  acquiring  wealth  and  were  abun- 
dantly satisfied  with  their  circumstances.  They  possessed  livestock 
valued  at  almost  $270,000  in  18-18  and  during  the  preceding  year 
had  produced  786,000  bushels  of  small  grain,  a  remarkable  develop- 
ment when  one  stops  to  think  that  fifteen  years  before  there  were  no 
farms  under  cultivation  in  the  county. 

Stephenson  County  more  than  kept  pace  with  Winnebago  during 
the  decade,  receiving  about  1,700  more  settlers  than  did  the  latter 
county  and  reaching  a  total  population  of  11,666.  As  Rockford  was 
the  center  of  the  agricultural  district  of  W'innebago  County,  so  was 
Freeport  of  Stephenson  County.  It  was  situated  on  the  Galena-Chi- 
cago state  road  along  which  the  proposed  railroad  was  to  be  built. 
Its  growth  was  as  yet  retarded  by  the  fact  that  supplies  were  car- 
ried from  Galena  to  stock  its  stores,  but  the  energy  and  hopefulness 
of  the  settlers  helped  to  build  it  up  and  give  it  a  prominence  in  the 
district  which  was  to  be  increased  when  steam  traffic  was  finally  a 
reality.  Scattered  along  the  line  of  the  proposed  railroad  were  small 
settlements  patiently  awaiting  the  time  when  they,  too,  by  the  aid 


44  MANOFVISION 

of  steam,  would  become  markets  for  agricultural  produce  and  derive 
benefit  from  the  products  of  the  country'. 

To  tlie  north  and  south  of  the  railroad  line,  wherever  a  patch  of 
timber  gave  shelter  from  the  heat  of  summer  and  the  cold  winds  of 
winter,  there  could  be  found  a  settler's  cabin,  and  before  the  end  of 
the  period  every  available  bit  of  timber  had  been  claimed.  The  farm- 
ers owned  $32(5,000  worth  of  livestock,  and  produced  759,000  bushels 
of  small  grain  in  1850.  The  prairies  were,  however,  still  unsubdued 
if  we  may  judge  from  the  amount  of  unimproved  land  at  this  date, 
there  being  123,300  acres  not  yet  under  cultivation  and  only  76,300 
cultivated.  Low  prices  alone  worked  to  destroy  the  prosperity  of  the 
farmer,  and  when  not  long  afterwards  a  remedy  was  applied,  the 
advance  made  by  the  district  was  a  rapid  one. 

All  this,  past,  present,  and  expected  future,  was  crystal-clear  to 
William  Butler  Ogden  when  he  and  his  associates  decided  in  the  fall 
of  IS-IS  to  try  to  make  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  Railroad 
dream  a  reality  and  so  run  the  first  railroad  train  out  of  Chicago. 

At  the  expiration  of  his  term  as  mayor  in  1839  he  had  again 
picked  up  his  contracting  and  real-estate  business,  delegated  to 
associates  during  the  period  of  his  civic  duties.  He  began  building 
the  town  of  Peshtigo  on  Green  Bay  as  the  center  of  his  rapidly  ex- 
tending Wisconsin  lumber  interests.  He  took  on  contracts  for  the 
building  of  West  Side  streets  in  addition  to  his  North  Side  activities 
of  a  similar  nature.  He  was  appointed  president  of  the  Board  of 
Sewerage  Commissioners,  was  extremely  active  in  the  advocacy  of 
public  parks  and  recreation  centers,  and  served  two  terms  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  State  Legislature. 

Despite  his  varied  interests,  Ogden  during  this  period — from  1839 
to  184'5 — found  time  to  gather  together  the  finest  library  in  Chicago, 
housed  in  his  home ;  he  also  collected  statuarj'  and  paintings.  In  the 
milder  seasons  he  devoted  himself  to  his  immense  flower  garden.  His 
was  a  familiar  figure  during  planting  time  when,  driving  a  horse  and 
wagon,  he  would  jog  into  the  country  to  spend  hours  digging  up  wild 
flowering  shrubs  and  vines  which  he  transplanted  personally  to  his 
own  garden.  His  collection  of  books,  paintings,  and  statuary  was 
completely  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire. 


..^^r-  -'"'-■    ■  '.i^^-^^' 


J/  art  f^u 


i^O 


PIONEER     RAILROAD 


Cl 


lapter    6 

THE     BIRTH     OF     A     RAILROAD 


William  Butler  Ogdex  was  sick  abed — the  doctor  diagnosed  his 
trouble  as  a  fever-cold  with  pneumonic  possibilities — when  the  first 
public  meeting  looking  to  the  resuscitation  of  the  Galena  and  Chi- 
cago Union  Railroad  was  held  at  Rockford  on  November  28,  1845. 
His  friend,  J.  Young  Scammon,  was  there,  however,  and  pledged  on 
Ogden's  behalf  his  fullest  support  for  the  plan.  At  this  meeting 
delegates  were  selected  from  Winnebago  County,  and  a  similar  pro- 
cedure was  later  carried  out  in  those  other  northern  Illinois  counties 
through  which  the  road  would  pass.  The  delegates  from  Cliicago 
(Cook  County)  were  chosen  December  5  at  a  meeting  in  the  Saloon 
Building,  presided  over  by  Mayor  Garrett.  These  were  William  But- 
ler Ogden,  J.  B.  Russell,  John  B.  Turner,  J.  Young  Scammon,  B.  W. 
Raymond,  Isaac  N.  Arnold,  Walter  L.  Newberry,  and  General  Hart 
L.  Stewart.  A  convention  date  was  set  for  January  7,  1846,  at  Rock- 
ford. 

The  Cook  County  delegates  made  their  journey  in  Scammon's 
commodious  coach  over  the  Galena-Chicago  state  road,  which  was 
considered  quite  a  highway  despite  its  enormous  ruts  and  occasional 
planking.  It  was  a  mild  winter,  and  the  party  made  good  progress 
completing  the  journey  in  two  days,  stopping  overnight  at  Elgin 
where  practically  the  entire  populace  of  the  hamlet  crowded  into 
the  common  room  seeking  news  of  the  projected  railroad  and  to  stare 
at  the  men  from  Chicago,  which  city  someone  present  referred  to 
as  "an  octopus" — probably  the  very  first  of  the  numerous  occasions 
on  which  the  epithet  has  been  hurled  at  the  Lady  of  the  Lakes. 

The  landlord  set  the  table  for  his  guests  (Scammon,  in  his  delight- 
ful notes  on  the  occasion,  has  failed  to  pass  along  the  name  of  this 
boniface  or  even  the  name  of  his  inn).  As  he  slapped  down  food  and 

■17 


•tS  PIONEERRAILROAD 

(Iriiik,  tlio  hiii(iIoi-d  told  the  delegates  what  he  thouglit  of  their  plans. 

"I'm  agin  all  railroads.  There's  your  roast  beef  rare,  IMr.  Ogden. 
Help  yourself  to  the  cabbage  and  potatoes.  Railroads  is  bad  for 
hotelkeepers  and  bad  for  farmers,  only  farmers  ain't  got  the  sense 
to  know  it — yet.  They'll  find  out,  Mr.  Scainmon.  There's  your  roast 
beef  well  done;  that's  the  way  we'll  all  be  when  you  gentlemen  get 
through — well  done.  Oh,  it's  fine  for  the  big  fellows  at  both  ends — 
in  Galena  and  in  Chicago.  But  what  you're  going  to  do  is  dry  up  all 
the  little  places  in  between,  like  Elgin.  Just  whiz  by,  pay  us  no  at- 
tention, and  let  us  rot." 

"Your  farm  produce  has  got  to  be  sent  to  market,"  observed 
Ogden,  "and  they  need  some  of  this  fine  beef  in  Chicago.  You  can't 
cat  it  all  yourselves  now." 

"Them's  fine  words,"  continued  the  landlord  as  the  people  of  Elgin 
listened  and  signified  approval  of  their  champion.  "There's  your 
steak.  General,  cooked  to  a  cinder  like  you  asked  for  it.  Reach  for 
the  vegetables.  What  I  say  is  these  farming  folks  pass  through  here 
on  their  way  to  market,  be  it  Galena  or  Chicago ;  and  they  stop  and 
eat  and  drink.  Sometimes  they  need  beds." 

"Instead  of  just  passing  through,  tired  and,  I  admit,  hungry," 
observed  Scammon,  "they'll  come  here  and  stop  to  load  their  produce 
on  the  cars.  They'll  get  their  money  here  in  Elgin  instead  of  having 
to  jog  miles  on  miles  to  the  market.  They'll  be  happy  instead  of  worn 
out ;  they'll  have  money  in  their  pockets  and  instead  of  spending  it 
in  Galena  or  Chicago,  they  will  spend  it  or  invest  it  right  here  in 
Elgin.  The  cities  will  benefit  through  redistribution  of  the  products. 
Elgin,  and  places  like  Elgin,  will  benefit  from  speedy  distribution 
from  the  wholesale  to  the  retail  market." 

"He's  talking  sense,"  observed  someone  at  the  back  of  the  throng. 
"I  wasted  all  of  two  months  last  year  getting  my  oats  to  Chicago." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Scammon,  "and  when  the  road  comes 
through,  you  just  stay  around  here  on  your  farm." 

"That's  as  may  be,"  said  the  landlord,  still  surly.  "You  folks  will 
make  money  while  the  road  is  a-building  and  then  you'll  sell  out  to 
those  big  bugs  in  New  York  and  Philadelphia." 

Ogden  stood  up. 

"Friends,"  he  said,  "we  might  just  as  well  make  one  point  clear 
right  now.  We  are  on  our  way  to  the  Rockford  convention  where  I 


THEBIRTHOFARAILROAD  49 

hope  to  find  a  broader  outlook  than  that  mistakenly  held  by  this 
gentleman.  If  this  plan  goes  ahead  the  money  for  it  will  come  from 
your  pockets — " 

"That's  just  as  I  was  sayin' — "  interrupted  the  landlord. 

" — just  a  minute  till  I  finish,"  Ogden  cut  in.  "When  I  say  j'ou  will 
furnish  the  money,  I  mean  of  course  that  you  will  not  furnish  it  until 
you  are  convinced  of  the  soundness  of  our  plans.  And  when  you 
furnish  the  money,  you  will  own  the  railroad ;  you,  the  farmers  and 
the  businessmen  of  the  section  of  country  through  which  it  will  be 
run.  I  pledge  you  my  word  of  honor  and  the  word  of  honor  of  these 
gentlemen  from  Cook  County  with  me  that  no  eastern  capitalists  or 
foreign  money  will  be  gathered  for  the  purpose  of  the  road  so  long 
as  I  and  these  associates  of  mine  have  anything  to  do  with  the  ven- 
ture. It  will  either  be  your  road  and  Chicago's  and  Galena's  road  or, 
for  me,  there  will  be  no  road." 

"That's  talking,  Mr.  Ogden,"  shouted  the  farmer  who  had  had 
trouble  with  his  oats.  "Put  me  down  for  a  share." 

Other  voices  joined  his. 

"I'll  come  in,  too." 

"We  know  Mr.  Ogden  around  here." 

"Anything's  better  than  that  state  road." 

"Take  3'our  time,"  laughed  Ogden.  "Wait  till  the  convention  is 
over  and  you  see  the  new  prospectus.  Keep  your  money  till  we  come 
round  to  call  on  you." 

"Pie,  gentlemen?"  the  landlord  asked  placatingly.  "Cherry  pie.-"' 

Three  hundred  and  nineteen  delegates  from  the  counties  of  north- 
ern Illinois  along  the  proposed  route  of  the  Galena  and  Chicago 
Union  Railroad  attended  the  Rockford  convention  which  was  pre- 
sided over  by  Thomas  Drummond,  a  Galena  lawyer.  It  was  an  enthu- 
siastic meeting,  for  missionary  work  similar  to  that  done  by  Ogden 
in  Elgin  had  apparently  swung  the  farmers  to  the  idea  of  a  railroad 
of  their  own  connecting  their  two  great  marts,  Chicago  and  Galena. 

J.  Young  Scammon  made  a  report  on  the  present  condition  of  the 
road  as  begun  by  a  survey  in  February,  1837,  by  engineer  James 
Seymour.  This  survey  had  covered  the  proposed  line  from  the  foot 
of  Dearborn  Street  in  Chicago  to  a  point  on  the  Des  Plaines  River 


'lONKKn      RAILItOAD 


now  occupied  l)v  the  town  of  Maywooil.  In  .rune,  after  only  four 
months  of  work,  ull  Imnds  were  laid  off  as  a  result  of  the  panic. 

In  Xoveniber,  1837,  President  Theophilus  W.  Smith  was  succeeded 
hy  youthful  Elijah  Kent  Hubbard;  piles  were  laid  along  Madison 
Sti'eet  as  far  as  Halsted,  and  stringers  placed  on  top  of  them.  By 
fall  of  that  year,  with  business  and  financial  conditions  still  bad, 
Hubbard  halted  work  again.  However,  he  carried  out  the  provisions 
of  the  charter  and  kept  the  company  alive  by  holding  yearly  meet- 
ings until  IS-t-t,  at  each  of  which  he  was  elected  president.  He  passed 
on  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-six. 

In  1845  the  charter  of  the  road  "and  all  property  owned  by  the 
corporation"  was  purchased  by  Elisha  Townsend  of  New  York  and 
Tiiomas  Mather  of  Springfield.  Diligent  search  fails  to  show  exactly 
how  these  two  gentlemen  secured  the  rights  to  the  road  and  its  physi- 
cal assets.  W.  H.  Stennett,  in  his  history  of  the  Chicago  and  North 
Western  Railway  system  called  Yesterday  and  Today,  says  the  sale 
was  accomplished  "in  some  now  unknown  way."  The  probabilities 
arc  that  Mather  in  Springfield  had  wind  of  interest  in  Chicago  re- 
garding revival  of  the  project,  got  in  touch  with  Townsend,  a  mon- 
eyed man,  and — between  them  and  for  a  consideration — they  were 
enabled  to  jump  the  gun.  However,  Mather  and  Townsend  wei'e  not 
unfair  in  the  proposal  they  authorized  Mr.  Scammon  to  make  to  the 
Rockford  convention.  They  were  willing  to  turn  over  the  charter 
and  all  the  property  for  200  shares  in  the  revived  corporation — 
100  down  on  completion  of  the  bargain  and  100  if  and  when  the 
railroad  reached  the  Fox  River.  The  original  capitalization  had 
been  one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  divided  into  1,000  shares  of  one 
hundred  dollars  each. 

All  that  the  company  had  to  show  for  this,  at  the  time  of  the  con- 
vention, was  the  offer  of  sale  for  the  equivalent  of  twenty  thousand 
dollars  in  stock,  the  rotting  construction  along  Madison  Street,  and 
940  acres  of  timbered  land  along  the  Des  Plaines  River  near  Ma}'- 
wood.  Of  course  nobody  present  at  the  convention  could  peer  far 
enough  and  clearly  enough  into  the  future  to  know  that  these  940 
acres  were  eventually  going  to  be  worth  far,  far  more  than  the  old 
capitalization  of  the  road  plus  the  recapitalization.  Referring  to 
these  wooded  acres,  ]Mr.  Scammon  merely  observed  that  they  would 


THEBIRTHOFARAILROAD  51 

supply  fuel  foi-  the  engines  "for  many  years  to  come"  as  well  as  ties 
and  timber  for  construction. 

At  the  conclusion  of  Scammon's  address,  Walter  Newberry  offered 
this  resolution : 

If  a  satisfactory  arrangement,  as  stated,  can  be  made  with  the  present 
holders  of  the  stock  of  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  Railroad  Company, 
the  members  of  this  convention  will  use  all  honorable  measures  to  obtain 
subscriptions  to  the  stock  of  said  company. 

The  resolution  was  adopted  by  an  overwhelming  vote  as  was  the 
succeeding  resolution,  proposed  by  Scammon : 

Resolved:  That  the  wants  of  the  farmers  and  businessmen  of  northern 
Illinois  require  the  immediate  construction  of  a  railroad  from  Galena 
to  Chicago.  That  the  value  of  farms  along  the  route  would  be  doubled 
by  the  construction  of  the  road  and  the  convenience  of  the  inhabitants 
immeasurably  profited  thereby. 

Resolved:  That  in  order  to  accomplish  the  object  of  this  convention, 
it  is  indispensably  necessary  that  the  inhabitants  and  owners  of  property 
between  Galena  and  Chicago  should  come  forward  and  subscribe  to  the 
stock  of  the  proposed  railroad  to  the  extent  of  their  ability;  and  that 
if  each  farmer  upon  the  route  shall  take  at  least  one  share  of  the  stock 
(one  hundred  dollars)  the  completion  of  the  road  would  be  placed  beyond 
contingency. 

This  resolution  too  was  vociferously  and  overwhelmingly  passed. 
The  convention  gave  authority  for  making  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments with  Townsend  and  Mather  and  for  the  opening  of  subscrip- 
tion books  at  Chicago  and  Galena.  The  lowest  down  payment  on  a 
share  of  stock  was  set  at  $2.50.  Will  Ogden  volunteered  to  person- 
ally canvass  the  residents  of  all  the  settlements  through  which  the 
road  would  pass.  Temporary  Chairman  Drummond  announced  that 
he  would  be  stock  salesman  for  Galena;  J.  Young  Scammon  took 
over  the  job  for  Chicago  ;  all  three  stated  that  they  would  serve  with- 
out salary  or  commission,  and  pay  their  own  expenses. 

At  a  meeting  held  in  Chicago  on  February  17,  William  Butler 
Ogden  was  elected  president  of  the  reorganized  Galena  and  Chicago 
Union  Railroad  Company,  Francis  Howe  was  appointed  secretary, 
and  the  following  elected  directors :  William  H.  Brown,  AV alter  L. 


a'Z  PIONEEKHAILKOAD 

Newberry,  Thomas  Dyer,  J.  Young  Scanimon,  Clmrlcs  Walker,  and 
James  H.  Collins.  All  these  six  men  were  Chicago  pioneers,  and  to 
their  number  was  added,  in  the  following  September,  John  B.  Turner 
of  Cliicago,  Benjamin  W.  Raymond  of  Chicago,  C.  S.  Hempstead  of 
Galena,  Thomas  Drummond  of  Galena,  Elihu  Washburne  of  Galena, 
W.  N.  Davis  of  Au  Sable  Grove,  Allen  Robbins  of  New  York.  (Al- 
though there  is  no  documentary  evidence  to  this  effect,  Robbins  is 
believed  to  have  represented  the  interests  of  Townsend  and  Mather 
on  the  Board.) 

"All  that  we  have  to  do  now.  Will,  before  we  get  started  laying 
track,"  observed  Scammon  as  he  and  Ogdcn  were  leaving  the  Saloon 
Building  after  the  election,  "is  to  gather  in  the  money.  Between  the 
three  of  us — Drummond,  you  and  me — you've  got  the  toughest 
job." 

Scammon  was  wrong — as  concerned  both  Chicago  and  Galena. 
Canvassing  his  own  city  steadily  for  a  year  he  succeeded  in  selling 
only  twenty  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  stock,  or  200  shares,  outside 
of  what  had  been  taken  up  by  the  local  directors.  Isaac  N.  Arnold, 
in  one  of  the  numerous  papers  that  he  read  to  the  Chicago  Histori- 
cal Society  after  he  had  retired  from  law  practice  and  politics  to 
devote  himself  to  writing  of  the  early  days,  had  this  to  say  of  Scam- 
mon's  failure : 

Chicago  was  a  small  and  ambitious  city.  It  had  three  divisions  occa- 
sioned by  the  river  and  its  north  and  south  branches  which  run  almost  at 
right  angles  with  the  main  river  leaving,  east  of  them,  the  north  and 
south  divisions  and,  west  of  them,  the  west  division  extending  the  whole 
length  of  the  city.  Such  divisions  always  create  local  jealousies  and  the 
selfish  interests  excited  are  often  difficult  to  manage  or  control. 

Mr.  Ogden  resided  on  the  north  side  of  the  river,  as  did  three  other 
directors,  Walter  Newberry,  Thomas  Dyer,  and  John  B.  Turner.  Mr. 
Ogdcn  was  especially  identified  with  the  north  side  and  he  was  accused 
by  those  who  never  suppose  other  than  solely  selfish  motives  can  influence 
action  of  "wanting  to  build  a  railroad  that  would  never  pay,  to  help 
him  sell  his  lots."  Naturally  the  gentlemen  of  the  north  side  desired  the 
road  to  cross  the  north  branch  and  locate  its  depots  or  stations  in  the 
north  division;  while  the  west-sidcrs  could  see  no  necessity  of  expending 
money  to  cross  the  river  because  the  west  side  was  the  largest  division 
of  the  city  and  the  nearest  to  the  country. 


THEBIRTHOFARAILROAD  53 

But  if  Scammon  fell  short  of  his  objective  in  Chicago,  he  made 
good  a^  an  assistant  to  Ogden  in  sale  of  stock  to  farmers,  to  which 
job  he  turned  when  he  found  his  own  field  almost  arid.  Outside  of  his 
own  purchases  and  those  of  his  fellow  Galena  directors — C.  M. 
Hempstead  and  Elihu  Washburne — Drummond  disposed  of  barely 
fifteen  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  stock  to  the  people  of  his  city. 
Scammon  comes  forward  with  an  explanation  :* 

At  Galena  businessmen  and  bankers  were  fearful  of  the  effect  of  the 
railroad  on  their  town.  It  had  long  been  prosperous  at  the  head  of  navi- 
gation on  Fever  River  (which  ran  from  the  Mississippi)  and  as  the  great 
lead-mining  center  and  mercantile  distributor  for  northwest  Illinois  and 
southwest  Wisconsin  and  the  country  north  of  the  mines. 

The  great  obstacles  met  there  were  two:  one,  the  local  effect  upon  the 
town,  and  the  other,  the  fear  that  before  the  road  should  be  completed 
the  enterprise  would  break  down,  the  small  stockholders  would  be  sacri- 
ficed and  the  road  would  pass  into  the  hands  of  the  large  capitalists. 

So  it  was  to  the  farmers  and  the  villagers  of  the  region  that  the 
organizers  of  the  road  had  to  turn  for  the  money  with  which  to  start 
their  enterprise,  and  their  ambassador  was  William  Butler  Ogden. 

He  had  gone  back  to  horseback  riding  on  this  new  mission  of  his — 
the  selling  of  a  railroad  to  the  farmers  and  to  the  people  of  the 
little  places  that  were  cropping  up  over  a  far-flung,  widely  scattered 
territory.  He  knew  riding  was  good  for  the  figure,  and  so  Will  Ogden 
would  jog  along.  He  was  forty-two  years  of  age  now  and  getting  a 
trifle  heavy  of  late ;  still  he  was  an  imposing,  handsome  man — trim, 
clear-eyed,  with  few  gray  hairs.  He  was  still  a  bachelor,  though  many 
a  pretty  woman  had  set  her  cap  at  him,  only  to  give  it  up  at  long 
last  while  wondering  what  could  be  the  matter.  Isaac  Arnold  could 
have  told  them,  so  could  Arthur  Bronson  or  Charles  Butler  or  Mah- 
lon  Ogden ;  but  men  had  not  the  habit  of  gossiping  of  such  things  in 
those  daj's. 

Through  the  summer  and  fall  of  1846,  through  spring  and  sum- 
mer of  1847,  he  rode  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  ten  counties.  In 
the  second  period  of  his  missions,  Young  Scammon  had  picked  up  a 
portion  of  the  burden ;  the  going  had  become  a  little  easier  then,  and 

•  Andreas,  A.  T.,  Hintory  of  Chicago,  R.  R.  Donnelley  &  Sons  Company,  Chi- 
cago, 1885. 


r>i  I'  I  O  N  E  li  K      n  A  1  L  li  O  A  D 

tlic  responses  perked  up  tlie  Ijeardid  lawyer  whose  Cliicafro  moncv- 
raisiiig  experiences  had  left  him  a  bit  downhearted.  But  all  in  all  it 
had  been  quite  a  job;  in  his  wildest  dreams  AVill  Ogden  had  never 
visioned  himself  as  a  stock  salesman.  But  he  had  made  a  record,  the 
story  of  which  had  filtered  through  to  the  great  money  marts  of 
the  East.  Erastus  Corning,  president  of  the  New  York  Central,  con- 
trolling spirit  in  the  Michigan  Central,  the  only  railroad  in  con- 
struction west  of  Lake  Erie,  had  written  Ogden  asking  him  to  become 
associated  with  his  interests. 

"A  man  who  can  gather  up  more  than  three  hundred  thousand 
dollars  from  a  bunch  of  backwoodsmen!"  exclaimed  Corning  when  he 
heard  about  it.  "I  need  him !" 

And  William  F.  Weld,  the  Boston  "Railroad  King,"  who  grabbed 
chunks  of  roads  wherever  he  caught  the  glinmier  of  a  bright  future, 
had  written :  "If  you  need  money  I'm  ready  to  come  in." 

But  Will  Ogden  didn't  need  an  eastern  stock-selling  job  and  he 
didn't  need  any  eastern  capital — not  now.  He  had  sold  the  farmers 
a  farmer's  railroad — a  farm-to-market  road.  He  had  told  them  it 
would  be  slow  going,  but  that  it  would  be  built  with  their  money  and 
the  money  of  no  other  people;  of  course  Chicago  and  Galena  could 
still  come  in  with  more  money  if  they  felt  better  about  things,  a  little 
more  optimistic.  Will  Ogden  wanted  to  build  as  the  money  came  in, 
in  driblets;  ten  miles  at  a  time,  maybe  twenty,  maybe  thirty.  All 
right,  pay  as  you  go  and  build  as  the  money  comes  ;  no  debts,  no  bor- 
rowings, and  if  there  are  profits  over  and  above  a  trifle  of  a  dividend 
then  toss  them  back  into  the  road. 

He  had  slept  in  rude  cabins,  in  lowly  farmhouses,  in  tents,  and 
more  than  once  of  a  summer  night,  by  the  roadside,  wrapped  in  a 
blanket,  his  horse  hobbled  near  by.  The  job  on  the  whole  had  been 
much  easier  than  he  had  thought  at  first,  particularly  after  the  bad 
news  from  Chicago  and  Galena.  These  farmers,  these  villagers  had 
met  him  more  than  halfway ;  they  wanted  this  road  once  they  got 
the  idea — and  they  grasped  it  with  surprising  mental  agility.  There 
was,  in  many  cases,  the  question  of  monej'  down;  some  of  them  had 
it,  many  had  not.  The  way  they  lived  they  could  get  along  for  quite 
a  spell  without  cash,  and  when  they  got  it  they  were  in  the  habit  of 
slapping  it  right  back  into  stock  and  seed  and  suchlike.  Many  times 
Ogden  loaned  a  first  payment  on  crop  prospects. 


THE      BIRTH      OF      A      RAILROAD 


During  his  campaign  over  those  two  years  lie  liad  a  big  liand  in 
the  taming  of  the  prairies.  He  found  his  farmer  clients  were  in  great 
measure  using  wooden  plows,  and  they  clustered  around  bottom  land 
because,  as  they  told  Ogden,  their  instruments  of  tillage  could  not 
break  through  the  tough  buffalo  grass  to  get  to  the  good  earth  below. 
John  Deere,  inventor  of  the  steel  plow,  had  recently  settled  in  Moline, 
where  he  opened  a  small  factory.  Apparently  operating  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  old  adage  about  the  better  mousetrap,  Deere  waited  for 
his  customers  instead  of  going  to  them.  While  selling  railroad  stock. 
Will  Ogden  also  sold — without  remuneration — the  Deere  steel  plow. 
In  the  Chicago  area  he  still  held  a  selling  franchise  for  the  McCor- 
mick  mowers  and  reapers.  He  showed  the  farmers  how  they  could 
take  on  more  acreage,  make  more  money,  buy  more  "Galena"  stock, 
by  personally  demonstrating  the  superiority  of  steel  over  wood  on 
presumably  unbreakable  land.  On  the  heels  of  the  spread  in  popu- 
larity of  the  Deere  plow,  a  new  flood  of  hard-land  farmers  swept  into 
northern  Illinois. 

At  the  first  annual  meeting  of  the  reorganized  Galena  and  Chicago 
Union  Railroad  Company,  held  at  its  offices  in  the  Merchants'  Ex- 
change Building  in  Chicago  on  April  5,  1848,  the  president  was  able 
to  report  that  .$351,800  worth  of  stock  had  been  sold.  It  had  been 
decided  that  there  were  sufficient  funds  in  the  treasury  to  make  a 
start. 

Surveyor  Richard  P.  Morgan,  who  had  been  lured  away  from  the 
Hudson  River  Railroad  the  previous  September — at  the  munificent 
salary  of  .$2.50  per  day — informed  the  directors  that  he  had  mapped 
out  the  course  of  the  road  "on  the  half-section  line  corresponding 
with  the  center  of  Kinzie  Street,  on  which  course  it  continues  for 
thirteen  miles,  crossing  the  Des  Plaines  River  a  little  south  of  the 
St.  Charles  Road."  (This  St.  Charles  Road  was  the  eastern  part  of 
the  stage  road  from  Chicago  to  Galena,  and  its  eastern  portion  was 
also  the  stage  road  from  Chicago  to  Dixon  and  Rock  Island — over 
which  Frink  and  Wagner  ran  coaches  for  many  years — until  the 
coming  of  "the  Galena"  put  them  out  of  business.) 

IMorgan  planned  to  parallel  the  state  road  to  Galena,  a  distance 
of  182  miles,  and  had  at  first  estimated  the  cost  at  .$14,553  per  mile. 
Obviously,  despite  the  response  of  the  farmers  and  villagers  to  the 


PIONEEn      RAILROAD 


picas  of  ^Vill  0<i(U'n,  contracts  could  not  be  cntcreil  into  for  tlic 
completion  of  the  line.  The  Board  of  Directors  therefore  had  ap- 
proved contract  for  the  first  8  miles  of  track  from  Chicago  to  the 
Dcs  Plaines  River  and  at  this  first  annual  meeting  had  secured  ap- 
proval to  contract  for  construction  of  31  miles  more — as  far  as 
Elgin. 

President  Ogden  asked  Survej'or  Morgan  if  his  estimate  of  $l-i,- 
553  per  mile  meant  that  he  would  use  T  rail  or  strap  rail.  Morgan 
said  he  had  figured  on  T  rail  but  that  if  strap  rail  were  to  be  used 
he  would  be  able  to  cut  his  cost  to  $8,500  per  mile. 

"Ruinous  financial  difficulties  in  Great  Britain  [where  T  rail  then 
came  from]  have  prevented  the  company  from  getting  iron,"  re- 
ported Ogden,  "so  it  has  been  decided  that  strap  rail  will  have  to 
be  used."  (The  superstructure  of  a  railroad  in  those  days  was  com- 
posed of  crossties  9  feet  long  and  6  inches  thick  which  were  laid  30 
inches  from  center  to  center;  on  these  were  placed  longitudinal  rails 
of  Norway  or  yellow  pine,  a  portion  6  inches  square  and  a  portion 
7  inches  square  secured  in  place  by  triangular  blocks  or  knees  of 
scantling,  firmly  spiked  to  the  ties  on  each  side.  Upon  the  longitudi- 
nal rails  was  an  oak  ribbon  iM  by  3  inches  square,  and  on  this  ribbon 
an  iron  plate  rail,  2%  by  %  or  %  inches  and  weighing  about  30  tons 
to  the  mile.) 

So  it  was  decided,  at  the  18-i8  meeting  to  close  the  first  fiscal  year, 
that  "the  Galena,"  as  it  had  come  to  be  called,  should  start  off  as  a 
strap-rail  railroad ;  that  on  completion  of  the  track  to  the  Dcs 
Plaines  River  work  should  be  continued — the  money  was  on  hand — 
to  Elgin;  that  construction  should  be  begun  on  a  depot  in  Chicago 
at  the  southwest  corner  of  Kinzie  and  Canal  streets.  There  was  no 
mention  of  other  depots  along  the  line — they  were  still  in  the  offing — 
either  on  the  left-  or  the  right-hand  side  of  the  tracks. 

At  this  first  annual  meeting  the  directors  were  authorized  to  pur- 
chase a  locomotive — preferably  secondhand — and,  if  possible,  to 
pay  for  it  with  stock;  authorization  was  also  given  for  the  purchase, 
under  the  same  conditions,  of  three  passenger  cars  and  thirteen 
freight  cars. 

Apparently  the  directors  were  devoid  of  any  silly  superstitions 
regarding  the  future  of  the  Galena's  freight  trade. 


a 


lapter    7 

THE     PIONEER 


The  ptjkchase  of  passenger  cars  and  freight  cars,  as  authorized  by 
the  Galena's  Board  of  Directors,  was  a  comparatively  simple  mat- 
ter; not  so  the  securing  of  a  locomotive  with  which  to  haul  them.  In 
the  summer  of  1848  Surveyor  Richard  P.  Morgan  and  Chief  Engi- 
neer John  Van  Nortwick  were  busy  laying  strap  rail  between  Chi- 
cago's first  railroad  depot  at  Canal  and  Kinzie  streets  (also  in 
course  of  constiniction)  and  the  Des  Plaines  River;  Van  Nortwick 
was  notified  by  President  Ogden  to  go  look  for  a  locomotive — a  sec- 
ondhand locomotive,  to  be  paid  for  with  stock. 

"That's  a  difficult  order  to  carry  out,"  the  Galena's  chief  engineer 
told  its  president.  "Railroads,  as  you  know,  Mr.  Ogden,  are  sprout- 
ing up  all  over  the  Middle  West.  A  good  many  of  them  seem  to  have 
more  money  than  we  have;  possibly  because  they  are  projects  fos- 
tered by  eastern  bankers  and  not,  as  in  our  case,  by  the  people  along 
what  is  to  be  our  right  of  way.  Cars  I  can  get  you.  Locomotives, 
that's  something  else  again.  But  I'm  on  my  way." 

Van  Nortwick  lunched  at  the  Tremont  House  that  day  and  by 
lucky  chance  ran  into  an  acquaintance,  Robert  Mahan,  paymaster 
for  the  Michigan  Central  Railroad.  The  Michigan  Central,  coming 
out  of  Detroit,  had  just  reached  its  then  Lake  Michigan  terminus 
at  New  Buffalo  and  was  of  three  minds  as  to  its  plans  for  the  future 
- — whether  to  put  in  a  line  of  market-ferries  between  New  Buffalo  and 
Chicago,  to  build  on  around  the  edge  of  the  lake  to  the  already 
sprawling  city,  or,  as  Will  Ogden  had  suggested,  to  let  the  Galena 
build  out  of  Chicago  round  the  tip  of  the  lake  to  meet  the  Michigan 
Central  in  New  Buffalo.  The  estimated  cost  of  this  last  plan,  $328,- 
000,  knocked  it  on  the  head  for  Ogden.  Later  the  Michigan  Central 
did  build  around  the  lake,  but  when  Van  Nortwick  ran  into  Pay- 

57 


58  PIONEER      RAILROAD 

master  Mahan  in  tlie  Trcmont  House  the  lattcr's  road  was  resting 
easy  on  its  laurels  ;  it  had  done  a  record  job  of  tracklayinf?  with  light 
engines  as  haulers;  Ogden  was  building  the  first  leg  of  the  Galena 
with  horses  as  traction. 

"Yes,  we've  got  some  light  engines,"  said  Mahan  in  reply  to  Van 
Nortwick's  query.  "Good  enough  for  those  ten  miles  of  strap  rail 
you're  starting  off  with.  We're  getting  new  stuff  from  Baldwin  any 
day  now.  How  many  of  these  hugger-muggers  do  you  want?  Four  be 
enough?" 

"One  will  be  quite  enough,"  replied  Xnn  Xortwick  modestly. 
"You've  got  to  crawl  before  you  walk,  leap,  or  run.  Just  a  little 
farm-to-market  railroad,  Mahan." 

"Well,  if  it's  crawling  you  want,"  replied  the  Michigan  Central 
pa^'master,  "we've  got  it.  Cash  on  the  barrelhead,  I  suppose." 

"We'll  pay  you  in  stock,"  replied  Van  Nortwick  firmly. 

Mahan's  ardor  cooled  slightly,  and  he  said  the  matter  would  have 
to  go  to  higher  quarters.  In  the  meantime,  would  the  Galena  engineer 
come  out  to  New  Buffalo  and  look  over  an  engine  or  two?  Van  Nort- 
wick was  agreeable.  In  the  Michigan  Central  yard  he  found  what  he 
was  looking  for — the  first  locomotive  of  the  Chicago  and  North 
Western  Railway  System ! 

All  engines  had  names  in  those  days  and  this  humble  hauler  of 
ties  and  rails  and  working  men  was  no  exception;  it  was  called  Alerf; 
]\Iahan  had  neglected  to  mention  that  Alert  was  a  used  engine  when 
the  ]\Iichigan  Central  had  bought  it  from  the  Utica  and  Schenectady 
Railroad  two  years  before.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  when  Van  Nortwick 
first  looked  it  over.  Alert  had  already  put  in  eleven  years  of  grueling 
service ;  when  its  purchase  was  finally  approved  by  President  Ogden 
it  became  not  a  secondhand  engine  but  a  third-hand  engine — which 
was  nothing  to  its  discredit.  Alert  had  been  built  to  last ;  it  still  lasts, 
as  this  is  being  written,  at  the  ripe  old  age  of  one  hundred  and 
twelve ! 

The  Galena's  engineer  went  carefully  over  every  bolt  and  plate. 
The  tiny  locomotive  bore  the  name  of  its  maker,  the  Baldwin  I>oco- 
niotive  Company  of  Philadelphia.  Its  cylinders  were  10  inches  in 
diameter  with  an  18-inch  stroke  ;  it  had  but  one  pair  of  driving  wheels 
4/4  feet  in  diameter  and  weighed  10  tons.  Naturally,  as  of  its  vin- 
tage, it  was  wood-burning;  it  had  iron  tires,  weighed  24',000  pounds. 


THE     PIONEER 


and  its  original  water  container  was  a  barrel  in  the  cab;  later  its 
tender  capacity  was  1,015  gallons.  The  first  engineer  of  the  Galena's 
first  locomotive  was  John  Ebbert ;  its  first  fireman,  Daniel  Sheehan. 
Ebbert  lived  to  exhibit  his  engine  at  the  Chicago  World's  Fair  of 
1893,  passing  on  six  years  later.  But  his  iron  horse,  the  first  loco- 
motive to  pull  a  train  out  of  Chicago,  showed  up  again  at  the  St. 
Louis  Fair  of  1903  and  at  tiie  second  Chicago  World's  Fair,  in  19.33. 
In  1948  it  made  its  bow  to  the  public  again  at  the  Chicago  Railroad 
Fair. 

Van  Nortwick  did  some  scurrying  back  and  forth  between  Chicago 
and  New  Buffalo.  The  purcliase  price  was  finally  settled  at  40  shares 
of  Galena  stock,  par  value  per  share  one  hundred  dollars ;  the  chief 
engineer  had  a  new  name  plate  made,  and  Alert  became  Pioneer.  On 
the  afternoon  of  October  22,  1848,  Chicago's  first  railroad  engine 
was  lowered  from  the  boat  that  had  carried  it  from  New  Buffalo  onto 
the  planking  of  the  Clark  Street  dock  on  the  north  side  of  the  river. 
Its  fresh  black  paint  gleamed ;  its  brass  and  copper  facings  had  been 
polished  to  mirrorlike  reflection ;  its  wheels  and  smokestack  had  been 
sandpapered  till  they  resembled  steel.  From  the  dock  it  was  horse- 
hauled  to  the  Galena  depot  at  Canal  and  Kinzie  streets  where,  next 
daj',  it  was  jacked  onto  the  tracks.  No  official  holiday  was  declared, 
but  apparently  all  Chicago  took  time  off  to  watch  the  unloading  of 
its  first  railroad  locomotive.  Reporting  the  Pioneer^s  arrival  in  the 
depot  in  its  issue  of  October  24,  the  Chicago  Daily  Journal  stated: 
"The  Iron  Horse  is  at  length  on  the  track  and  will  'fire  up'  in  a  day 
or  two  over  that  part  of  the  road  which  has  been  completed." 

Moving  around  among  the  throng  on  the  afternoon  of  arrival, 
William  Butler  Ogden,  subscription  book  in  hand,  sold  over  twenty 
thousand  dollars'  worth  of  stock  in  the  Galena.  Chicago  had  wanted 
to  be  shown !  Well,  he  was  showing  Chicago ! 

On  the  afternoon  of  October  25,  the  Galena  directors  and  some 
few  friends  rode  out  as  far  as  the  tracks  had  been  completed,  to  what 
is  now  Oak  Park.  Nothing  untoward  happened,  the  Pioneer  behaved 
well,  farmers  and  merchants  lined  the  single  track,  cheering  the 
progress  of  the  train,  which  consisted  of  one  passenger  car  and  one 
open  freight  car — the  latter  empty  on  the  westward  journey. 

At  Oak  Ridge  (now  Oak  Park)  the  directors  and  their  guests 
descended  for  refreshments  which  were  served  in  the  shack  doing 


PIONEEn      RAILROAD 


duty  ns  tlic  road's  first  sul)urban  station.  Followiiifr  an  enjoyable 
liour  and  just  as  the  I'ioncer  was  about  to  knuckle  down  to  a  home- 
going  demonstration  of  its  pusliing  as  well  as  its  pulling  abilities — 
the  Galena  had  not  as  yet  got  round  to  a  turntable — Director  J. 
Young  Scanimon  noticed  a  farmer  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd, 
perched  on  a  wagonload  of  wheat. 

"Where  you  taking  that,  friend.''"  asked  Mr.  Scammon. 

"Newberry  and  Dole,"  answered  the  farmer. 

"How  would  j'ou  like  your  wheat  to  be  the  first  hauled  into  Chi- 
cago by  train.'"'  asked  Scammon.  "Free,"  he  added. 

The  farmer,  whose  name  unhappily  has  not  been  passed  on  to 
posterity,  wasn't  any  too  sure  about  his  likes  or  dislikes,  but  when 
he  understood  that  he,  too,  would  ride  the  train  with  his  produce, 
he  gave  consent.  AVilling  hands  transferred  the  bags  to  the  open 
freight  car — and  so  came  the  first  train-hauled  wheat  to  the  city 
that  was  to  become  the  world's  leading  wheat  market. 

From  that  October  day  of  1848  the  Galena  never  looked  back — 
always  forward.  Work  did  not  progress  as  fast  as  it  did  on  other 
railroads  which  were  springing  up  all  over  the  country,  with  a  spe- 
cial rash  of  them  in  the  Middle  West;  where  the  Federal  government 
was  being  goaded  on  by  Senator  Stephen  A.  Douglas  who  had  secured 
the  first  railroad  land  grant  for  the  Illinois  Central.  Washington, 
from  aloof  stinginess,  had  suddenly  become  almost  overgenerous  in 
its  concessions  to  promoters  wishing  to  lay  track  in  the  "new  lands." 
Iowa  had  been  admitted  to  statehood  in  1846,  Wisconsin  in  1848; 
the  tide  of  immigration  was  in  full  flood  into  both  new  common- 
wealths, and  an  agricultural  and  town  building  boom  was  on. 

But  the  Galena  proceeded  slowly,  making  money  as  it  went  along 
but  never  borrowing  for  expansion,  putting  only  profits  back  into 
extension  of  track  and  purchase  of  equipment.  By  1850  the  Chicago, 
the  Elgin,  the  Illinois,  the  Belvidere,  and  the  Rockford  had  been 
added  to  the  engine  roster  still  headed  by  that  third-hand  old  stal- 
wart, the  Pioneer.  Wood  was  used  for  fuel,  and  the  average  cost  per 
cord  was  .$2.13;  there  was  timber  aplenty  all  along  the  right  of  way. 

The  Galena  reached  the  Des  Plaines  River  (May wood)  on  De- 
cember 15,  1848.  The  track  was  opened  to  Turner  Junction  (West 


THE     PIONEER 


61 


Chicago)  30  miles  west  of  Chicago  in  the  spring  of  1849.  Here  the 
road  swung  almost  due  north  to  Elgin,  a  distance  of  12  miles.  From 
Turner  Junction  another  line  was  later  extended  westward  through 
Dixon  to  Fulton  on  the  Mississippi  River,  a  distance  of  105  miles. 
Turner  Junction  (named  for  John  B.  Turner)  served  as  the  north- 


In  1850  Chicago's  first  railroad,  while  only  43  miles  long,  was  already  well  estab- 
lished and  prospering  as  it  moved  on  to  its  initial  goal  in  northwestern  IllLnois. 

ern  temiinus  of  the  Aurora  Branch  Railroad,  and  for  a  number  of 
years  the  trains  of  that  road  and  its  successor,  the  Chicago,  Burling- 
ton and  Quincy,  ran  from  this  point  over  the  line  of  the  Galena  into 
Chicago.* 

Elgin  and  the  countryside  staged  an  enormous  celebration  when 
the  Pioneer  puffed  into  that  city  on  January  22,  1850.  Belvidere 
was  reached  on  December  3,  1851.  Track  reached  Cherry  Valley 
March  10,  1852,  and  "amid  cannon  and  the  ringing  of  bells"  the 
Pioneer  proudly  snorted  into   Rockford  on  August  2,   1852.   The 


*  Petersen,  W.  J.,  The  Northwestern  Comes,  The  Palimpsest,  Journal  of  the 
Iowa  Historical  Society,  1924. 


PIONEER      RAII.  nOAD 


Galena's  arrival  in  Rockford  put  stagecoaches  out  of  business  to 
the  East,  and  the  Galena  advertised  connections  with  stages  from 
Rockford  to  Galena  and  Dubuque;  to  Beloit,  Janesville,  aiid  Madi- 
son ;  to  Dixon  and  to  Rock  Island. 

Meantime  there  had  been  dissension  on  the  board  of  the  railroad 
■which  had  blossomed  into  open  quarrel  and  accusation.  President 
Will  Ogden,  in  addition  to  his  investments  in  Chicago  real  estate, 
had  also  gone  in  heavily  for  timberland  purchase  along  the  southern 
Wisconsin  border  and  along  the  Galena's  right  of  way.  He  was  back 
in  the  lumber  business  in  a  big  way  just  as  he  had  been  in  Walton, 
New  York,  as  a  young  man  operating  the  family  sawmill.  He  had  a 
ready  market  for  his  inidwestern  lumber  in  Chicago  both  as  fuel  and 
for  construction  purposes.  He  was  also  selling  cordwood  and  railroad 
ties  by  the  trackside  for  use  in  the  engines  and  on  the  right  of  way 
of  the  Galena — something  which,  seemingly,  he  had  a  perfect  right 
to  do. 

The  charge  was  made  that  Ogden  was  using  his  position  as 
president  of  the  Galena  to  increase  his  railroad  tie  and  cordwood 
sales  and  shut  off  competition.  The  accusation  was  never  made  to 
his  face,  but  upon  hearing  of  it  he  immediately  submitted  his  resig- 
nation both  as  president  and  director — which  the  majority  of  the 
directors  refused  to  accept.  Ogden  withdrew  the  resignation,  but  at 
subsequent  meetings  refused  to  take  his  seat  when  those  directors 
who  had  accused  him  of  profiteering  were  present.  This  was  in  the 
summer  of  1848,  and  until  June,  1851,  J.  Young  Scammon  presided 
over  meetings  whenever  Ogden  absented  himself.  On  June  5,  1851, 
when  Ogden  insisted  on  resigning  over  the  protests  of  the  majority 
of  the  Board,  John  Bice  Turner  was  elected  president  of  the  Galena. 

But  Ogden  was  by  no  means  through  with  his  favorite  railroad. 

John  Bice  Turner  was  the  fifth  president  of  the  Galena  and  Chi- 
cago Union  Railroad  Company,  his  predecessors  being  Theophilus 
W.  Smith,  Elijah  K.  Hubbard,  James  H.  Collins,  and  William  Butler 
Ogden.  Smith,  Collins,  and  Hubbard  were  merely  presidents  of  a 
])aper  railroad  for  purposes  of  keeping  the  charter  alive.  Ogden  was 
the  first  president  of  the  functioning  railroad. 

A  stocky  man  of  medium  height,  Turner  was  one  of  the  ablest 


THEPIONEER  Dd 

citizens  of  the  Chicago  of  his  day.  He  came  to  tiie  Galena  with  a 
background  of  railroad  building  and  administration  experience 
which  was  to  stand  the  budding  little  line  and  the  great  carrier  into 
which  it  developed  in  good  stead. 

Like  his  friend  Will  Ogden,  John  Turner  was  a  native  of  New- 
York  State.  Little  is  known  of  his  early  struggles,  but  unlike  Ogden, 
he  was  certainly  not  bom  to  affluence  or  in  all  probability  even  to 
comfort.  He  first  came  to  notice  as  a  railroad  builder  when,  in  1835, 
at  the  age  of  thirty-four  he  was  awarded  a  contract  to  build  7  miles 
of  the  Ransom  and  Saratoga  Railroad.  Previous  to  this  good  for- 
tune, Turner  is  believed  to  have  worked  up  from  tanner's  apprentice 
to  tracklayer  to  section  foreman.  He  did  such  a  good  job  of  his 
7-mile  strip  that  he  was  made  general  manager  of  the  entire  line — 
only  40  miles  long.  The  Ransom  and  Saratoga  trains  were  hauled 
by  horses,  and  Turner  built  barns  and  stables  for  their  accommoda- 
tion at  intervals  of  10  miles.  In  the  same  year,  in  partnership  with 
his  brother,  he  took  a  contract  for  the  construction  of  the  Delaware 
division  of  the  New  York  and  Erie  Railroad  Company.  The  crash 
of  1837  wiped  out  his  construction  company.  Three  years  later  he 
had  somewhat  recouped  himself  through  a  contract  to  dig  a  portion 
of  the  Genesee  Valley  Canal.  A  completed  contract  for  construction 
of  a  portion  of  the  Troy  and  Schenectady  Railroad  put  Turner  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life  a  few  thousand  dollars  ahead,  and  he  was 
able  to  achieve  a  boyhood  ambition — to  go  West  with  some  capital 
in  his  pocket.  With  his  wife  and  two  younger  children — his  eldest 
boy  was  a  student  at  Williamstown  College — he  arrived  in  Chicago 
on  October  15,  1843,  with  letters  of  introduction  to  William  Butler 
Ogden,  Charles  Butler,  AValter  Newberry,  George  Dole,  and  J. 
Young  Scammon.  His  first  venture  was  the  purchase  of  a  thousand 
acres  of  prairie  land  south  of  Blue  Island  which  he  stocked  with 
sheep  driven  in  from  Ohio. 

This  practical  railroad-man-turned-sheep-farmer  amazed  Will 
Ogden ;  he  and  J.  Young  Scammon  had  been  dreaming  about  resusci- 
tating the  Galena  for  several  years ;  but  there  were  lots  of  things 
about  railroads  concerning  which  the  pair  knew  nothing;  the  ar- 
rival of  John  Bice  Turner  seemed  something  like  a  gift  from  on  high. 
Ogden  and  Scammon  came  to  visit  the  sheep  farmer  at  his  rooms  in 


64  PIONEKRRAILROAD 

tlie  TrLiiiont  House.  Yes,  he  told  his  visitors,  he  was  interested  in 
railroad  biiildinfj  and  particularly  interested  in  the  Galena;  it 
seemed  he  had  all  the  facts  and  all  the  difficulties  at  his  finger  tips. 

"Then  why,"  asked  Scammon,  "do  you  start  up  a  sheep  farm  when 
railroads  are  the  coming  things  and  you  are  a  practical  railroad 
man  ?" 

"I  wasn't  going  to  push  in  until  I  knew  I  was  wanted,"  replied 
'I'urner  with  characteristic  modesty.  "Back  East  you  Chicago  gen- 
tlemen are  getting  the  name  of  being  a  rather  close  corporation." 

"Close  or  not,"  chorused  his  visitors,  "we  need  you." 

As  managing  director  of  the  reorganized  Galena,  Turner  proved 
himself  an  able  lieutenant  to  President  Ogden ;  when  the  latter  in- 
sisted on  the  acceptance  of  his  resignation,  both  pro-Ogden  and 
anti-Ogden  directors  were  agreed  that  Turner  was  their  logical 
leader. 

The  Galena  entered  Freeport  on  September  1,  1853,  thus  ending 
the  march  westward  over  that  particular  line  by  the  progenitor  of 
the  North  Western  system.  Two  routes  lay  open  if  the  original  plan 
was  to  be  carried  out  and  entrance  made  into  the  city  whose  name 
was  borne  by  the  railroad  line.  One  of  these  would  be  to  the  north- 
west by  way  of  Warren  and  Scales  Mound ;  the  other  to  the  south- 
west by  way  of  Savanna.  But  the  Illinois  Central  was  already  build- 
ing to  Galena,  and  President  Turner  was  of  the  opinion  that  the 
countryside,  rich  and  prosperous  as  it  was  becoming,  could  not  sup- 
port two  railroad  lines  running  almost  parallel.  Chief  Engineer  Van 
Nortwick  of  the  Galena  reported: 

Thorc  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  true  policy  of  both  companies  is  to 
form  a  connection  at  such  a  point  as  shall  be  found  most  practical,  east 
of  Galena,  and  construct  but  one  road  to  that  place.  It  is  understood  that 
both  companies  favor  and  contemplate  such  an  arrangement.* 

Freeport  was  agreed  upon  by  the  two  roads  as  the  point  of  junc- 
tion, and  on  the  Galena's  arrival  there  the  Illinois  Central  took  up 
construction  of  its  Frccport-Galena  division.  The  iron  horse — 
though  it  was  not  the  Galena's  iron  horse — reached  Galena  and  the 
heights  above  the  Mississippi  River  on  October  30,  1854. 

*  Petersen,  \V.  J.,  The  Northwestern  Comes,  The  Palimpsest,  Journal  of  the 
Iowa  Historical  Society,  1924. 


THE      PIONEER 


65 


The  Galena's  first  railroad  depot,  as  has  been  told,  stood  on  a 
triangular  piece  of  ground  west  of  Canal  Street  and  south  of  Kinzie 
Street.  It  was  at  first  a  one-story  wooden  shack  running  east  and 
west,  entered  from  what  was  then  called  West  Water  Street,  which 
ran  along  the  north  branch  of  the  Chicago  River.  The  depot  faced 
the  railroad  tracks  which  were  south  of  the  building.  In  1849  this 
depot  was  enlarged,  and  provision  made  for  freight  handling  as  well 
as  for  passengers.  A  second  story  was  added  which  was  used  as  a 
general  office,  and  on  top  of  this  was  a  glass  enclosure  looking  like 
some  sort  of  observatory.  This  was  for  years  President  Turner's 
post  of  observation.  Armed  with  a  telescope,  he  would  engage  in  his 
favorite  relaxation — if  you  could  call  it  that — the  detection  of 
approaching  trains  through  his  glass  and  reports  of  their  progress 
or  lack  of  it,  shouted  down  through  the  flimsy  building  to  employes 
and  patrons  alike.  He  could  see  on  a  clear  day  his  engines  puffing 
away  as  far  off  as  Austin — six  miles.  Samuel  Morse  had  already 
invented  the  telegraph,  some  six  years  before,  but  the  railroads  had 
not  as  yet  got  around  to  using  it. 

In  1852  the  Galena  substituted  T  rail  for  its  archaic  strap  rail  and 
in  the  same  year  placed  a  floating  bridge  on  the  Chicago  River  at 
practically  the  same  place  where  now  stands  the  Chicago  and  North 
Western  Railway  bridge.  In  1853  the  road  completed  its  second  de- 
pot, standing  east  and  west  along  North  Water  Street  with  its 
east  end  on  Wells  Street.  Sometime  after  this  depot  was  occupied, 
Wells  Street  was  filled  in  and  raised  about  8  feet;  this  caused  the 
Galena  company  to  add  30  feet  to  the  length  of  the  building  and 
put  on  another  story,  making  it  three  stories  high  with  a  frontage 
of  45  feet  on  Wells  Street  and  75  feet  on  North  Water  Street.  This 
building  remained  in  use  until  the  Great  Fire  of  1871  when,  like  most 
of  Chicago,  it  went  up  in  smoke. 

The  Galena  had  a  third  depot  in  Chicago  for  the  use  of  passen- 
gers. Owning  land  on  the  east  side  of  North  Dearborn  Street  and 
south  of  Kinzie  Street,  the  company  in  1851  erected  here  a  two-story 
building,  the  lower  portion  of  which  was  used  originally  for  freight 
purposes  and  the  upper  for  offices.  For  some  time  during  the  middle 
fifties  the  passenger  trains  of  the  Galena  road  ran  to  and  from  this 
building,  and  while  this  was  being  done  neither  the  first  nor  the  sec- 
ond depots  were  in  use.  Nobody  knows  the  reason,  and  if  there  had 


66 


PIONKEIl      KAIL  nOAD 


been  liny  ix])laiuition  in  the  records  these  were  unavaihible  because 
of  hiivinfT  been  destroyed  in  the  Chicago  Fire.* 

The  directors  of  the  Galena  apparently  felt  somewhat  chagrined 
over  the  failure  to  gain  a  railroad  monopoly  from  P'reeport  to  the 
Mississippi.  On  the  heels  of  the  Illinois  Central's  triumphant  entry 
into  the  city  of  Galena,  Chief  Engineer  Van  Nortwick  was  ordered 
to  locate  a  line  from  Turner  Junction  to  a  suitable  point  of  con- 
nection with  the  Rockford  and  Rock  Island  Railroad,  from  which 
point  it  would  continue  through  Dixon  to  Fulton  on  the  Missis- 
sippi. 

The  Galena's  chief  engineer,  somewhat  disheartened  by  events, 
perked  up  over  this  order.  His  report  was : 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  route  must  form  the  great  trunk  line 
west  from  Chicago  to  Council  BlutTs  and  even  west  of  tliat  point,  and 
that  this  is  the  one  upon  which  Chicago  must  rely  to  secure  the  business 
of  central  and  western  Iowa  rather  than  upon  other  western  lines  having 
eastern  connections  south  of  that  city. 

Van  Nortwick  sold  the  idea  to  his  directors,  who  authorized  an 
increase  in  the  capital  stock  of  the  Galena  to  a  sum  "not  exceeding 
five  million  dollars"  with  which  "to  extend  the  Dixon  and  Central 
Iowa  route  to  Dixon  and,  if  they  should  deem  it  expedient,  to  the 
Mississippi  River;  or  to  unite  or  consolidate  with  any  other  road 
on  that  route." 

President  Turner  got  busy  on  this  latter  phase  and  secured  from 
the  Mississippi  and  Rock  River  Junction  Railroad  Company  a  lease 
by  which  a  continuous  and  complete  line  of  railroad  would  be  made 
and  operated  from  Chicago  to  Fulton  under  the  control  and  man- 
agement of  the  Galena.  This  lease  provided  that  the  Mississippi  and 
Rock  River  Junction  should  "prepare  the  roadway  for  the  super- 
structure" and  that  the  Galena  should  "complete,  stock,  and  oper- 
ate it  in  perpetuity."  For  its  work  the  IMississippi  and  Rock  River 
Junction  was  to  receive  7  per  cent  annually  on  its  expenditures.  For 
this  splendid  piece  of  work  Engineer  Van  Nortwick  was  made  "presi- 
dent and  engineer"  of  the  Mississippi  and  Rock  River  Junction  Rail- 
road. 

The  work  went  ahead  rapidly.  Stock  had  sold  readily,  and  for  the 
•  See  Appendix  for  detailed  history  of  the  Nortli  Western's  Chicago  depots. 


THE     PIONEER 


first  time  in  its  existence  the  Galena  did  not  liave  to  count  tlie  pen- 
nies. By  January  10,  1854,  track  was  open  as  far  as  Lane,  45  miles 
from  Junction.  Despite  heavy  snowfalls  that  late  w'inter,  the  road 
was  completed  to  Dixon  by  December  4  of  the  same  year. 

On  January'  9,  1855,  as  had  been  expected,  the  Mississippi  and 
Rock  River  Junction  consolidated  with  the  Galena,  and  Van  Nort- 
wick  set  speedily  about  forging  the  last  links  of  his  chain  from 
Chicago.  On  July  22  the  first  Galena  train  rolled  into  Sterling. 
On  September  23  the  iron  horse  puffed  into  Morrison,  and  on  De- 
cember 16,  the  old  Pioneer,  given — as  always — the  place  of  honor, 
snorted  proudly  into  Fulton  and  graciously  deigned  to  take  a  drink 
from  Old  Man  River. 


Cl 


I  a  pier    S 

N  O  R  T  II     \V  E  S  T  E  R  N     D  R  E  A  M 


From  1851  until  1855,  William  Butler  Ogden  was  not  officially  in- 
terested in  railroading.  He  had  a  large  and  ever  growing  real-estate 
business  in  Chicago ;  as  a  contractor  he  was  laying  most  of  what 
are  now  the  downtown  streets  of  the  city  of  his  adoj^tion ;  facing 
these  streets  he  built  stores,  offices,  and  homes. 

He  was  a  busy  man — and  if  he  was  not,  during  those  j'ears,  a  prac- 
ticing railroad  man  he  was  nevertheless  a  very  active  theoretical 
railroad  man.  He  was  lumbering  in  Illinois,  Wisconsin,  and  Michi- 
gan. And  the  Galena  was  still  his  baby — though  there  were  still  on 
its  directorate  men  who  had  hurt  him  to  the  quick.  But  his  friends 
on  the  Board,  such  as  John  Bice  Turner,  J.  Young  Scammon,  and 
others,  came  to  him  frequently  for  unofficial  consultation  and  ad- 
vice; he  never  failed  them,  passed  along  his  constructive  thoughts  of 
today,  his  dreams  of  tomorrow.  These  dreams  were  to  develop  into 
reality — the  strategy  of  that  enterprise  that  was  to  become  the 
Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  System. 

Approaching  his  fifties  he  was  still  an  extraordinarily  active  man, 
an  ardent  horseback  rider.  In  his  journej's  out  of  Chicago  into  what 
was  then  considered  the  Northwest — Wisconsin,  northern  Michigan, 
and  IMinncsota — he  preferred  his  horses  even  where  he  found  rail- 
road lines,  though  he  did  not  neglect  to  use  these  to  test  their  effi- 
cacy and  their  ultimate  purpose  in  these  plans  of  his  for  the  future 
of  the  territory. 

We  have  told  the  story  of  J.  Young  Scammon  accosting  the  farmer 
on  that  first  triumphal  run  of  the  Galena  to  Oak  Park  (then  Oak 
Ridge)  and  the  switching  of  the  bags  of  grain  from  the  horse-drawn 
wagon  to  the  two-car  train  hauled  by  the  Pioneer  on  its  first  run 
back  to  Chicago.  That  wagonload  of  grain  made  a  profound   im- 

68 


NORTH      WESTERNDREAM  69 

pression  on  Will  Ogden ;  it  indicated  to  him  in  no  uncertain  terms 
the  basis  of  prosperity  for  railroad  lines  running  out  of  Chicago 
west  and  northwest — as  indeed  it  indicated  the  basis  of  prosperity 
for  all  the  "Granger"  lines  that  were  to  come. 

Years  have  passed  since  Will  Ogden  rode  the  trails  and  dreamed 
of  a  vast  railroad  s^'stem  that  would  tap  as  yet  unpeopled  regions 
and  conjure  forth  farms  and  villages,  furnaces  and  cities,  factories 
and  ports,  that  would  provide  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness for  millions  yet  unborn.  It  all  came  true — and  looking  at  the 
vast,  fertile,  peopled  domain  as  it  is  today,  the  whole  development 
seems  simple,  natural ;  it  was,  and  it  is — but  where  would  the  auto- 
mobile be  without  the  spark  plug?  There  is  no  question  but  that 
Ogden  was  the  spark  plug  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Rail- 
wav  System;  it  is  just  as  certain  that  he  was  the  spark  j^lug  that 
brought  civilization  and  prosperity  to  the  area  from  which  his 
"baby"  most  rightly  took  its  name. 

The  whole  thing  is  as  simple  and  direct — again  looking  back  at 
it  today — as  those  first  10  miles  of  strap  railroad  that  he  laid  down 
out  of  Chicago,  due  west.  Ogden's  strategy  shows  clear  in  a  railroad 
map  made  just  before  the  advent  of  the  Civil  War — -a  line  across 
the  Mississippi  with  the  system  in  embrj'o  shown  in  additional  lines 
of  80  and  100  miles  running  north  into  Wisconsin.  The  essential 
beginning  of  the  dream  was  assuming  reality — a  trunk  line  north  and 
a  trunk  line  west;  Cedar  Rapids  the  western  terminus,  Green  Bay 
the  northern. 

Ogden,  in  his  studies  and  dreams,  had  ridden  far  into  upper  IMichi- 
gan.  He  had  sat  on  his  horse- — man  and  steed  both  weary,  both  de- 
termined^and  stared  at  the  muddy  waters  of  the  ^Missouri,  and  out 
into  Nebraska.  These  journeys  developed  the  major  objectives  that 
were  to  become  the  accomplishment  of  the  North  Western — the 
western  offensive  with  the  Missouri  and  the  farmlands-to-be  as  the 
goal;  the  northern  offensive,  aimed  at  the  grain  lands  and  the  iron 
and  copper  country. 

Three  hundred  years  ago  Jesuit  missionaries  found  copper  on 
Lake  Superior,  the  richest  beds  of  native  copper  in  all  the  world.  In 
1850,  Jean  Louis  Agassiz,  the  great  Swiss-American  naturalist  and 
geologist,  wrote  his  book  Lake  Superior,  in  which  he  pointed  out  the 


70  PIONEEURAILROAD 

richni'ss  of  the  region  in  copper  and  iron  deposits.  'J'lie  first  bar  of 
Lake  Superior  iron  liad  been  drawn  tlirough  a  blacksmith's  forge 
in  184G.  When  Will  Ogden  rode  into  the  copper  and  iron  lands  he 
carried  Agassiz'  Lake  Superior  in  one  of  his  saddlebags.  He  had 
read  all  about  the  riches  that  lay  underground,  had  made  a  trip  to 
the  Lowell  Listitute  in  Boston  to  interview  Agassiz  and  had  returned 
to  Chicago  and  his  process  of  making  dreams  realities — with  this 
advice :  "You  can  study  nature  in  my  book,  IMr.  Ogden.  But  unless 
you  go  out  of  doors  yourself  you  cannot  find  her.  This  new  country 
needs  students  far  more  than  it  needs  textbooks.  The  book  of  nature 
is  always  open." 

In  the  Lake  Superior  iron  and  copper  region,  Will  Ogden  sensed 
that  this  portion  of  his  dream  would  be  easy  to  realize;  here  was  a 
traffic  goal  that,  instead  of  being  attained  over  desert  wastes,  was 
reachable  across  terrain  perhaps  as  profit-bearing  as  the  treasure 
that  unworldly  men  of  God  had  merely  recorded  and  then  left  for 
the  enrichment  of  crass  men  of  business.  As  a  practical  lumberman. 
Will  Ogden  viewed  with  great  satisfaction  the  forests  of  pine,  the 
seemingly  inexhaustible  stores  of  hardwoods;  well,  suppose  the  tim- 
ber was  exhaustible?  W^hat  then?  Ogden  was  a  builder,  a  lumberman, 
a  railroad  man — and  he  was  also  a  farmer.  In  his  rare  days  of  leisure 
he  was  a  hunter  and  a  fisherman.  He  dreamed  on,  but  his  dream  was 
as  soundly  practical  as  the  dreams  of  Stevenson,  Whitney,  Ford, 
Columbus,  or  the  Pilgrim  Fathers. 

Will  Ogden  saw  trains  hauling  copper  and  iron  through  a  land 
of  barley,  small  grains,  and  dairies.  Where  the  pine  stood  as  he  rode 
the  edge  of  the  forests  he  saw  the  farmer  moving  in  with  the  clearing 
of  the  land.  He  saw  the  tamarack  swamps  drained,  cattle  turned  into 
the  brush  and  the  clearings,  to  the  most  nutritious  of  grasses,  the 
coolest  of  waters. 

It  was  on  a  September  afternoon  of  185-t  that  Ogden  and  his  horse 
halted  on  the  heights  above  the  Missouri  River  where  Lewis  and 
Clark  had  held  their  council  with  the  Indians  just  fifty  years  be- 
fore. Across  the  brown  water  was  a  village  thriving  by  leaps  and 
bounds — Omaha !  Nebraska  had  been  a  territory  for  four  months. 
Already  there  was  talk  of  a  transcontinental  railroad  to  cross  the 
Missouri  at  this  point;  it  was  not  even  to  begin  construction  for 


N  O  U  T  H      \V  E  S  T  E  R  N      D  R  E  A  M  71 

another  eight  years.  What  could  be  easier  tliaii  to  meet  sucli  a  rail- 
road from  the  coast  here  on  the  river  and  form  a  junction?  Jump 
the  gxin !  Will  Ogden  dreamed  on,  dreams  that  were  to  come  to  pass, 
all  of  them. 

This  Nebraska  Territory  was  extraordinary,  definitely  a  neces- 
sary link  in  the  chain.  Will  Ogden  crossed  the  Missouri,  rode  deep 
into  the  new  lands.  Grasses  that  cured  on  the  ground !  Great  for 
stock  raising.  Hay  country,  wheat  country,  small-grain  country. 
Too  young  for  dairying,  but  that  would  come,  as  it  would  come  to 
the  Wisconsin  timberlands.  Ogden  rode  back  to  Chicago,  heartened. 
He  had  given  two  years  to  studying  the  potentialities  of  his  railroad 
dream.  He  celebrated  his  fiftieth  birthday  a  few  daj's  after  his  return, 
and  his  close  friends  gathered  at  his  Rush  Street  mansion  to  con- 
gratulate him — John  Turner,  J.  Young  Scammon,  George  Dole, 
Cyrus  McCormick,  Perry  Smith,  Charles  Butler,  Mahlon  Ogden, 
William  H.  Brown,  Judge  Henry  AV.  Blodgett,  and  a  rising  _young 
New  York  lawyer  named  Samuel  J.  Tilden  who  was  later  to  win 
the  presidency  of  the  United  States  on  the  popular  vote  of  the  elec- 
torate of  the  country,  only  to  lose  it  in  the  electoral  college. 

To  these  friends  on  his  fiftieth  birthday  William  Butler  Ogden 
outlined  his  plans  for  a  "northwestern  railway."  His  picture  did  not 
take  in  South  Dakota  and  Wyoming — he  was  a  little  early  for  that, 
even  in  a  dream — but  in  all  else  the  plan  which  came  through  was 
his.  He  spread  a  map  on  a  table  and  traced  his  system  through  traf- 
fic mines  of  the  future,  some  of  which  even  then  had  hardly  the  status 
of  villages — Chicago  (the  fountainhead,  the  mainspring),  Milwau- 
kee, Duluth,  Superior,  St.  Paul,  Minneapolis,  Sioux  City,  Des 
Moines,  Omaha,  Lincoln. 

In  the  summer  of  1855  a  telegraph  line  was  laid  alongside  the 
Galena  tracks  from  Chicago  to  Freeport,  and  for  the  first  time  on 
any  western  railroad  trains  were  operated  by  means  of  Morse's 
invention.  In  1855  President  Turner  also  tried  out  two  soft-coal- 
burning  engines  in  place  of  his  old  wood-burners.  His  agreement 
with  the  builders  was  that  he  need  not  buy  if  the  locomotives  were 
not  a  success ;  they  were  not. 

Turner  and  his  Board  of  Directors  laid  down  ambitious  plans  in 


72  PIONEERRAILROAD 

185G.  Tlicy  niajipcd  out  an  extension  of  tlie  Galena  westward  from 
Clinton,  Iowa,  talking  over  40  miles  of  track  that  had  been  laid  down 
by  the  Chicaf^o,  Iowa  and  Nebraska  Railroad  before  it  ran  out  of 
money.  The  complete  plan  had  been  to  run  to  an  as  yet  unselected 
point  in  Iowa  and  from  thence  north  "to  connect  with  a  road  extend- 
ing northwesterly  to  St.  Paul."  The  Galena  stockholders  were  warned 
that  these  were  defensive  measures ;  the  Middle  West  had  gone  rail- 
road mad,  and  lines  were  being  projected  everywhere,  some  on  paper, 
some  in  the  begging  stage,  some  gathering  finances,  some  actually 
laying  track. 

Turner  had  still  another  headache.  It  had  been  decided  that  Chi- 
cago needed  jacking  up  if  parts  of  it  were  not  to  sink  into  the  swamp. 
George  Pullman,  later  inventor  of  the  Pullman  car,  was  the  man 
who  put  most  of  what  was  later  the  Loop  on  stilts.  And  the  Galena 
had  to  go  along  and  hoist  its  depots,  engine  house,  and  tracks  an 
average  of  two  and  a  half  feet  over  about  sixteen  acres  of  land.  The 
soil  had  to  be  hauled  from  Babcock's  Grove  (now  Lombard),  and 
though  the  Galena  did  its  own  hauling,  the  job  ran  into  real  monev. 

The  little  railroad,  the  most  prosperous  and  best-managed  busi- 
ness of  its  kind  in  the  IMiddle  West  despite  the  hoisting  job  and  de- 
spite competition,  entered  the  panic  year  of  1857  in  good  financial 
shape  and  had  already  laid  second  track  as  far  as  Turner  Junction. 
It  boasted  56  locomotive  engines  and  1,200  freight  and  passenger 
cars.  It  owned  260  miles  of  finished  road  at  a  cost,  to  date,  of 
$8,293,294.62;  had  a  bonded  debt  of  $2,958,015.28;  during  the 
A'ear  over  613,000  passengers  had  been  carried. 

"All  our  original  plans  have  been  carried  out,"  announced  Presi- 
dent Turner,  "with  the  exception  of  the  completion  of  the  second 
track.  The  gross  earnings  for  the  year  were  $2,800,053." 

The  financial  panic  of  1857,  brought  about  primarily  by  railroad 
promotion  and  railroad  stock  speculation,  crippled  all  western  rail- 
roads. The  Galena,  built  solidly,  its  stock  in  the  great  majority  held 
by  men  and  women  who  believed  in  its  future  on  the  record  of  its 
successful  past  and  who  were  not  in  any  sense  of  the  word  specu- 
lators, dug  in  and  held  on.  But  passenger  and  freight  earnings  fell 
off  more  than  25  per  cent,  and  between  August,  1857,  and  the  fol- 
lowing January  its  working  force  had  to  be  cut  from  1,904  to  722. 


NORTH      WESTERN     DREAJI 


73 


Bankruptcy  was  the  rule  among  the  majority'  of  the  western  roads. 
But  while  the  panic  ran  its  course,  the  Galena  kept  on  laying  its 
second  track. 

What  had  been  accomplished  up  to  this  time  is  best  shown  in  the 
Galena  report  for  the  fiscal  year,  1857,  as  taken  from  W.  H.  Sten- 
nett's  history  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  System, 
entitled  Yesterday  and  Today. 


MAIN    LINE 

The  road  was  opened  to  Elgin,  42  miles  from  Chicago,  January 
22,  1850.  This  portion  of  the  road  was  originally  laid  with  strap- 
rail  iron,  resting  upon  longitudinal  stringers,  but  during  1852-1853 
this  track  was  replaced  with  iron  T  rail. 

Distance,  Point  of 

Main  Line  Opened  To:  miles  Origin                     Date 

Huntley 55  Chicago  September  15,  1851 

Marengo 66  Chicago  October  18,  1851 

Belv'idere 78  Chicago  December  3,  1851 

Cherry  Valley 84  Chicago  March  10,  185^2 

Rockford M  Chicago  August  2,  1852 

Freeport 121  Chicago  September  1,  1853 

Beloit 21  Beh-idere  November  14,  1853 

Chicago,  Fulton  a:sd  Iowa  Line 

Distance,  miles,  from 

Trad:  Opened  To:  Turner  Junction  *                    Date 

Lane 45  January  10,  1854 

Dixon 68  December  4,  1854 

Sterling 80  July  22,  1855 

Morrison 94  September  23,  1855 

Fulton 105J^  December  16,  1855 

*  This  year  the  name  Turner  Junction  was  changed  to  Turner  in  honor  of  the  Galena 
president. 

SECOND     TRACK  —  OPENINGS 

To  cit}'  limits,  2  miles  from  Chicago,  September  1,  1855. 
To  Harlem,  9  miles  from  Chicago,  December  15,  1855. 
To  Cottage  Hill,  17  miles  from  Chicago,  October  19,  1856. 


71'  FIONEERRAILROAD 

To  Babcock's  Grove,  20  miles  from  Chicago,  June  7,  1857. 
From  Danby  to  Whcaton,  2/4  miles,  June  7, 1857. 
From  Wheaton  to  Winfield,  2^4  miles,  November  1,  1857. 
To  Turner  Junction,  30  miles  from  Chicago,  December  G,  1857. 

ST.     CIIARl.ES     AIU     LINE     BRANCH* 

0])cncd  from  South  Branch  station  to  Harlem,  10/4  miles,  Janu- 
ary 1,  1856. 

AVERAGE  MILEAGE  BY  YEARS 

The  general  average  of  the  number  of  miles  of  T-rail  track  in 
use  in  the  main  track,  from  September  15,  1851,  to  May  1,  1852, 
seven  and  one-half  months,  was  31/^4  miles,  equal  to  19^,4  miles  for 
one  year. 

Date  General  Average,  miles 

May  1,  1852,  to  May  1,  1853  48 

May  1,  1853,  to  May  1,  1854  131 

May  1,  1854,  to  May  1,  1855  1961-^ 

May  1,  1855,  to  May  1,  1856  240 

May  1,  1856,  to  May  1,  1857  272}^ 

May  1,  1857,  to  May  1.  1858  282  % 

Equal  to  188Va  for  one  year. 

The  total  length  of  track,  in  miles.  In  use  January  1,  1858,  is  as 
follows : 

Main  line,  from  Chicago  to  Frceporl 121 

Beloil  branch,  from  Belvidere  to  Beloit 21 

East  Elgin  branch 1 J^^ 

Chicago,  Fulton  and  Iowa  line,  from  Junction  to  Fulton.  .  1053^ 

St.  Charles  Air  Line,  from  Chicago  to  Harlem 10}^ 

Total 259y2 

Second  track 30 

Sidings  and  gravel  pit  tracks 42 Ji 

Total S32}4, 

•This  is  the  little  road  that  was  liouRht  In  1S54. 


NORTH      VTESTERNDREAM  75 

REAL    ESTATE 
The  company  owns  the  following  acreage  of  real  estate: 

Right  of  way 3,300 

Laud  at  and  near  Harlem  Station,  9  miles  west  of  Cliicago .        9-10 

Depot  Grounds 

Main  line  and  Beloit  branch,  mcluding  6'2  acres  in  Chicago       165 
Chicago,  Fulton  and  Iowa  line 116 

Total 281 

Gravel  pits 68 

Miscellaneous  lauds 3 ,  491 

Total  real  estate 8,080 

(Of  the  land  described  in  this  statement  as  miscellaneous,  a  large 
portion  was  bought  on  account  of  the  wood  growing  thereon.  When 
the  wood  is  removed  the  land  is  resold  by  the  company.  These  lands 
are  scattered  along  the  line  of  the  railroad,  and  are  generally  con- 
tiguous thereto.  The  company  owns  about  1,200  acres  [included  in 
the  above  list]  located  on  densely  wooded  islands  in  the  Mississippi 
River,  a  few  miles  above  Fulton.) 

During  1858  the  Galena  was  beginning  to  feel  its  own  oats — aside 
from  those  oats  it  was  hauling ;  it  had  become  a  force  to  be  recog- 
nized among  other  roads,  to  be  deferred  to,  powerful  enough  to  ex- 
tend a  helping  hand — for  considerations,  of  course.  A  contract  with 
the  Chicago,  Burlington  and  Quincy  Railroad  required  that  the 
latter  use  the  Galena  tracks,  and  pay  for  the  privilege — to  and  from 
Chicago  east  of  Turner  Junction.  A  contract  with  the  Mineral  Point 
and  the  Illinois  Central  companies  provided  that,  on  a  percentage 
basis,  the  former  should  send  all  the  business  the  destination  of 
which  it  could  control  over  the  Galena  for  a  period  of  twenty  years. 
In  November  of  this  year  the  Fox  River  Valley  Railroad  was  sold 
under  court  decree  to  Benjamin  W.  Raymond  and  by  him  conveyed 
to  the  Elgin  and  State  Line  Railroad  Company,  whereupon  the 
Galena  entered  into  a  contract  to  operate. 

At  the  very  moment  President  Turner,  on  behalf  of  the  Galena, 
was  signing  the  contract  with  the  Elgin  and  State  Line  Railroad, 


PIONEER      RAILIIOAD 


Williiun  Butler  Ogdcn  was  sitting  in  the  offices  of  his  New  York  at- 
torney, Samuel  J.  Tilden.  The  Ciilca^o,  St.  Paul  and  Fond  du  Lac 
Railroad  Comi)any  had  failed  to  meet  the  interest  on  its  bonds.  The 
Illinois  State  Legislature  would  meet  for  its  biennial  session  inside 
of  the  next  six  weeks  when,  in  all  probability — Ogden  told  Tilden — 
acts  would  be  passed  authorizing  the  sale  of  the  road  and  approving 
the  formation  of  a  new  corporation  to  acquire  it. 

William  Butler  Ogden  wanted  control  of  the  Fond  du  Lac;  he 
classed  it  as  one  of  the  foundation  stones  that  would  turn  his  dreams 
of  a  great  northwestern  railway  system  into  reality.  Tilden,  a  realist 
if  ever  there  was  one,  found  himself  in  complete  agreement  with  the 
dreamer. 


Cl 


lapier    9 

LAYING     THE     FOUNDATION 


The  teakspoetation  histoey  of  the  United  States  has  proved  that 
waves  of  railroad  consolidation  have  always  followed  on  the  heels  of 
major  industrial  depressions.  The  sequence  is  natural.  Hard  times 
came  along,  and  weak  railroads,  newly  constructed  and  partly  con- 
structed lines  tumbled  into  the  hands  of  bondholders  and  receivers. 
These  latter  have  but  two  lines  of  thought — unless  a  war  comes  along 
and  provides  a  shot  in  the  arm  in  the  form  of  troop,  equipment,  ar- 
mament, and  supply  hauls — and  these  lines  of  thought  are  "sell  for 
what  3'ou  can  get  and  cut  the  loss ;  that — or  consolidation." 

Consolidation  is  the  recipe  of  the  men  with  vision  acting  on  the 
old  adage  "if  you  can't  fight  'em,  join  'em."  Out  of  the  financial 
crash  of  1857  there  peered — in  so  far  as  the  Middle  West  of  that 
day  was  concerned — a  weird  collection  of  bankrupt  railroad  lines, 
some  of  them  dragging  along  by  grace  of  optimistic  pump-primers 
from  the  j'oung  cities  of  the  New  World  and  from  the  hoary  cities 
of  the  Old  World ;  others  had  quit  cold,  their  strap  rail,  their  T  rail, 
their  wood-burning  engines  rusting  by  the  right  of  way. 

The  territory  was  overrailroadcd  for  the  populace,  what  with 
paper  plans,  stock  market  promotions,  parallel  lines,  competing 
lines.  A  great  proportion  of  the  roads  actually  laid  down  had  been 
based  by  their  promoters,  for  profit,  on  sweeps  of  immigration  to 
the  new  lands  and  the  clearing  of  these  into  productive  farms  and, 
after  that,  the  advent  of  business  and  industrial  centers,  villages, 
then  towns,  then  cities.  It  didn't  work  out  that  way  at  that  time ;  the 
railroads  in  many  cases  were  built,  and  then  whistled  for  pioneers ; 
these  pioneers,  whose  toil  and  production  were  to  justify  the  rail- 
roads, were  unable  to  get  into  action  fast  enough ;  the  roads,  wait- 
ing for  profits  or  even  enough  returns  to  justify  operation,  ran  out 

77 


78  !•  I  O  N  K  i:  It      II  A  I  I,  It  O  A  D 

of  money;  tlic  panic  halted  liopcs  of  getting  furtlicr  sinews  of  war. 
Witli  few  exceptit)ns  the  railroads  went  bankrupt,  remained  isolated 
and  fragmentary,  passed  into  the  hands  of  receivers,  were  sold  under 
foreclosure,  or  were  abandoned. 

Out  of  such  confusion,  through  the  organizing  genius  of  one  man, 
grew  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  Sj'stem. 

In  1847,  before  resuscitation  of  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union 
Railroad,  William  Butler  Ogden  and  J.  Young  Scammon  had  visited 
various  Wisconsin  settlements  with  the  idea  of  sounding  out  senti- 
ment on  connecting  railroad  lines  in  the  vicinity.  They  put  an  idea 
in  the  heads  of  a  group  of  Janesville  and  Bcloit  citizens  who  in  the 
following  year  "created  a  body  corporate  by  the  name  of  the  Madi- 
son and  Beloit  Raih-oad  Company."  (The  temporary  title  for  this 
venture  must  not  be  confused  with  the  Bcloit  and  jMadison  division 
of  the  Galena,  already  referred  to.) 

Apparently  realizing  that  a  gross  error  in  timing — and  in  nam- 
ing— had  been  made,  the  Wisconsin  company,  in 'February,  1850, 
secured  legislative  permission  to  change  the  name  of  the  Madison 
and  Beloit  and  also  to  change  the  location  "at  any  point  on  the  south 
line  of  the  state  of  Wisconsin"  and  to  "extend  said  road  to  an}'  point 
on  the  Wisconsin  River  that  to  them  may  seem  proper."  An  amend- 
ment, approved  five  days  later,  authorized  the  company  to  "extend 
their  road  from  Janesville  to  Lake  Winnebago  by  way  of  Fort  At- 
kinson, Jefferson,  and  Watertown."  The  incorporators  were  further 
authorized  to  change  the  name  of  the  organization  to  the  Rock 
River  Valley  Union  Railroad  Compan}'.  The  act  of  February,  1850, 
was  further  amended  in  March,  1851,  to  give  the  company  authori- 
zation "to  extend  its  road  to  Lake  Superior."  Another  amendment 
authorized  extension  "from  the  point  of  intersection  on  the  Wiscon- 
sin River  to  the  village  of  La  Crosse  in  the  County  of  La  Crosse 
and  thence  to  Willow  River  and  St.  Croix  Falls." 

On  February  12,  1851,  the  Illinois  Legislature  had  approved  a 
charter  for  the  formation  of  the  Illinois  and  Wisconsin  Railroad. 
The  charter  granted  authority  to  build  from  "the  north  line  of 
McIIenry  County,  Illinois,  to  Woodstock  in  the  same  county  and 
thence  to  a  point  on  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  Railroad  in 
Cook,  Kane,  and  IMcHenry  counties  aiul  within  fifty  years  to  build 


LAYINQTHEFOUNDATION  79 

into  Chicago  and  to  connect  with  any  railroad  south  of  Cliicago  and 
through  Indiana." 

In  March,  1855,  the  Rock  River  Valley  Railroad  Company  was 
granted  permission  by  the  Legislature  of  Wisconsin  to  consolidate 
with  the  Illinois  and  Wisconsin.  The  former  road  had  at  this  time 
laid  track  between  Minnesota  Junction  and  Fond  du  Lac,  a  dis- 
tance of  about  twenty-nine  miles ;  meanwhile  the  Illinois  and  Wis- 
consin had  built  from  Chicago  northwesterly  to  Cary,  Illinois,  a 
distance  of  about  thirty-nine  miles. 

On  March  30,  1855,  the  consolidation  became  official,  and  a  new 
corporation  was  formed  which  took  the  name  of  the  Chicago,  St. 
Paul  and  Fond  du  Lac  Railroad  Company.  During  1855  it  extended 
its  line  from  Cary  to  Janesville — 52  miles. 

Between  June,  1856,  and  January,  1857,  the  Ontonagon  and  State 
Line  Railroad  Company  of  Michigan,  the  Wisconsin  and  Superior 
Railroad  Company  of  Wisconsin,  and  the  Marquette  and  State  Line 
Railroad  Company  of  Michigan  were  all  organized  and  given  author- 
ity to  build  beyond  the  northern  end  of  the  Chicago,  St.  Paul  and 
Fond  du  Lac.  In  March,  1857,  according  to  plan,  all  three  of  these 
lines  were  consolidated  with  the  Chicago,  St.  Paul  and  Fond  du 
Lac.  Putting  their  cards  on  the  table  along  with  the  announcement, 
the  directors  of  the  acquiring  road  stated: 

The  object  and  desire  of  the  Chicago,  St.  Paul  and  Fond  du  Lac  Rail- 
road Company  was  the  extension  of  their  line  from  Janesville  northwest 
via  ^Madison  and  La  Crosse  to  St.  Paul  and  from  Janesville  north  along 
the  valley  of  Rock  River  to  Fond  du  Lac  and  to  the  great  iron  and  copper 
regions  of  Lake  Superior. 

Thus  we  see  the  dream  emerging  into  reality.  William  Butler  Og- 
den  had  accepted  the  presidency  of  the  Illinois  and  Wisconsin 
shortly  before  its  merger  with  the  Rock  River  Valley  Union;  at  the 
time  of  the  merger,  his  brother-in-law,  Charles  Butler,  was  president 
of  the  Rock  River  Valley  Union.  The  Fond  du  Lac's  Chicago  depot, 
taken  over  from  the  Illinois  and  Wisconsin,  was  between  Kinzie 
Street  and  Grand  Avenue,  close  to  the  present  location  of  Canal 
Street.  In  May,  1857,  the  Milwaukee  and  Mississippi  Railroad  had 
been  finished  as  far  as  Prairie  du  Chien,  and  the  Fond  du  Lac  made 
a  deal  with  the  Milwaukee  and  Mississippi  so  that  it  could  run  its 


so  PIONEERRAILROAD 

trains  from  Cliicago  to  Prairie  du  Chien,  a  distance  of  227  miles, 
without  change. 

Tlic  consolidation  with  the  Ontonaffon,  the  Wisconsin  and  Supe- 
rior and  the  Marquette  and  State  I^ine  broufjht  a  spurt  to  close  the 
gap  between  Minnesota  Junction,  Wisconsin,  and  Gary,  Illinois,  this 
being  completed  in  '59  despite  the  panic  and  ensuing  depression. 
Thus,  a  continuous  line  from  Chicago  via  Janesville  to  Fond  du  Lac 
— 176  miles.  The  drive,  financed  in  large  measure  by  loans  from 
Ogden  and  his  associates,  had  for  its  primary  purpose  the  securing 
of  a  land  grant  along  this  track  approved  by  Congress  for  the  de- 
velopment of  AVisconsin  lines.  However,  a  contest  ensued  in  the  State 
Legislature,  with  the  result  that  the  Wisconsin  solons  moved  the 
location  of  the  land  grant  so  that  it  perched  along  the  rights  of 
way  of  the  newly  constructed  La  Crosse  and  Milwaukee  Railroad 
Company  and  the  as-yet-to-be-constructed  Wisconsin  and  Superior 
Railroad  Company.  The  Wisconsinites  evidently  considered  the 
Chicago  and  Fond  du  Lac  an  Illinois  venture  although  it  had  been 
chartered  in  both  states.  However,  between  the  date  of  the  Legisla- 
ture's edict,  October,  1856,  and  January,  1857,  the  Fond  du  Lac 
took  over  the  Wisconsin  and  Superior,  thus  retrieving  a  portion  of 
the  land  grant — six  sections,  or  3,8-10  acres,  per  mile.  Thus  partial 
justice  was  done,  for  Ogden  and  his  associates  had  spent  many  weary 
months  in  Washington  getting  Congress  into  the  proper  frame  of 
mind  for  approving  the  public  lands  grant  before  it  came  to  the 
State  Legislature. 

But  the  Fond  du  Lac  had  been  traveling  too  fast  for  the  country 
— or  more  rightly,  the  country  had  not  been  traveling  fast  enough 
for  the  Fond  du  Lac.  It  struggled  valiantly  through  the  first  eight- 
een months  of  the  1857  panic  but  defaulted  on  the  interest  on  its 
bonds  and  was  finally  forced  into  a  bankruptcy  petition.  In  Febru- 
ary, 1859,  the  Illinois  Legislature  authorized  sale,  reorganization, 
or  both,  and  was  followed  by  the  Wisconsin  Legislature  a  few  weeks 
later.  At  a  meeting  of  the  stockholders  and  bondholders,  Samuel  J. 
Tilden  and  Ossian  D.  Ashley  were  appointed  the  road's  agents. 

Acting  for  the  bondholders,  James  AVinslow,  William  A.  Booth, 
and  James  F.  D.  Lanier,  as  trustees,  sold  the  road  under  foreclosure 
at  an  auction  held  in  Janesville,  Wisconsin,  June  2,  1859,  to  Tilden 
and  Ashley  as  agents.  The  latter,  in  turn,  conveyed  it  a  few  days 


LAYING     THE     FOUNDATION  81 

later  to  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  Company,  which 
was  organized  June  7,  1859,  under  concurrent  special  acts  of  the 
legislatures  of  Illinois  and  Wisconsin,  approved  February  19  and 
March  14,  1859,  respectively.  The  price  was  $10,849,938  in  the 
stocks  and  bonds  of  the  new  purchasing  comj^any.  Ogden  was  elected 
first  president  of  the  North  Western  with  the  following,  besides  him- 
self, as  members  of  the  Board  of  Directors :  Perry  H.  Smith.  E.  W. 
Hutchins,  G.  M.  Bartholomew,  Charles  Butler,  Thomas  H.  Perkins, 
Mahlon  D.  Ogden,  A.  C.  Courtney,  Henry  Smith,  J.  R.  Young, 
J.  J.  R.  Pease,  M.  C.  Darling,  and  Albert  Winslow. 

By  act,  approved  by  the  Wisconsin  State  Legislature  in  April, 
1861,  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  Company  was  au- 
thorized to  locate  a  line  of  its  road,  or  a  branch,  by  way  of  Fort 
Howard  (Green  Bay),  Wisconsin,  to  the  north  line  of  the  state,  at 
the  Menominee  River.  It  was  not  built  to  Fort  Howard  until  the  fall 
of  1862,  as  at  that  time  (the  spring  of  1861)  the  road  was  unable  to 
meet  the  interest  on  its  first  mortgage  bonds,  and  on  April  11,  1861, 
the  bondholders  held  a  meeting  in  New  York  City.  The  committee 
then  aj^pointed  visited  Chicago,  to  look  over  the  valuable  grounds 
of  the  company,  to  report  upon  the  best  way  out  of  the  financial 
embarrassment,  and  to  ascertain  whether  it  was  expedient  to  ex- 
tend the  road  from  Appleton  to  Green  Bay  and  west  from  Neenah 
to  Waupaca,  Wisconsin.  As  was  to  be  expected,  although  the  ex- 
tension was  looked  upon  as  important  and  as  a  necessary  develop- 
ment of  the  system  soon  to  be  made,  the  committee,  after  visiting 
the  towns  and  attending  enthusiastic  meetings,  "withheld  the  recom- 
mendation." 

President  Ogden  decided  on  frontal  attack ;  he  went  direct  to  the 
people  of  Brown  County  and  at  a  meeting  in  Green  Bay  requested 
a  right  of  way  to  the  town  and  offered  $49,500  worth  of  North  West- 
ern stock — not  easily  negotiable — for  an  equivalent  in  county  bonds 
which  were  readily  cashable.  His  principal  argument  was  faith  in 
the  future,  but  for  the  first  time — and,  in  so  far  as  we  know,  the  last 
— glamour  girls  were  used  to  promote  the  construction  of  a  railroad. 

Ogden  was  accompanied  on  this  journey  by  Perry  H.  Smith,  vice- 
president  of  the  North  Western  and  a  former  resident  of  Appleton. 
Smith  was  acquainted  with  the  Grignons  of  Kaukauna,  an  influ- 
ential French  family — at  tliis  time  many  of  the  residents  of  this  sec- 


82  r  I  O  N  K  K  11      U  A  1  L  H  O  A  I) 

tion  were  of  Frcncli  birth  or  French  extraction,  and  the  language 
was  even  more  in  use  in  tlie  region  than  English.  Smith  took  Ogdcn 
to  visit  the  Grignons  and  also  brought  along  a  personable  young 
man  of  his  actjuaintancc  by  the  name  of  Vassar,  whose  first  name 
has  not  been  passed  on  but  who  was  described  as  a  nephew  of  that 
Vassar  who  founded  the  famous  girls'  college  of  the  same  name.  Vas- 
sar was  a  fluent  French  conversationalist.  At  the  Grignon  mansion, 
the  railroad  men  were  hospitably  entertained  and  introduced  to  the 
three  daughters  of  the  house — a  trio  of  "incomparable  beauties," 
Neither  Ogden  nor  Smith  was  of  an  age  and  an  appearance  for  the 
stirring  of  girlish  hearts — but  not  so  Vassar;  he  came,  he  saw,  and 
he  conquered.  Nothing  came  of  it  in  the  romantic  sense  beyond  flir- 
tations on  the  part  of  Vassar  and  the  three  girls,  but  in  the  business 
sense — which  was  what  mattered  to  Ogden  and  Smith — the  hard-to- 
sell  bonds  of  the  North  Western  were  finally  exchanged  for  easily 
negotiable  Brown  County  bonds,  the  cash  was  secured — and  the  road 
was  completed  to  Green  Bay. 

It  was  Smith  who  suggested  a  campaign  for  the  bond  issue  along 
the  banks  of  the  Fox  River.  A  steamboat  was  hired,  a  piano  placed 
on  deck,  and  as  the  vessel  proceeded  leisurely'  along  the  stream  and 
through  the  locks,  the  three  lovely  Grignon  girls,  "beautifully 
dressed" — according  to  Mr.  Smith — sang  and  danced  for  the  en- 
tertainment of  visiting  Brown  County  folks  who  loaded  the  boat 
from  stem  to  stern  at  every  halt,  while  Vassar  thrummed  the  piano. 
The  bond  issue  was  oversubscribed. 

The  road  as  far  as  Green  Bay  was  formally  opened  November  I'.i, 
1862.  Congress  had  granted  the  North  Western  80  acres  from  the 
military  reservation  for  depot  purposes.  Two  large  grain  elevators 
were  constructed  at  the  same  time,  one  at  Green  Bay  and  the  other 
on  the  depot  land  in  Chicago. 


J/  art  ^/iree 


NORTHWEST     TERRITORY 


Cl 


lapier    ^0 

TERRITORY  IN  NEED  OF 
A  RAILROAD 


Thus  the  stage  was  set.  Eventually,  the  pioneer  Galena  and  the 
North  Western  would  become  one  great  system  spanning  the  farm- 
lands, the  forests,  and  the  empty  plains  of  the  Northwest.  But  first 
a  war  was  to  intervene,  and  other  railroads  were  to  be  built.  They 
had  to  be,  but  sometimes  they  were  mighty  slow  in  coming. 

For  instance,  look  at  Minnesota. 

Altliough  there  was  a  tremendous  surge  of  railroad  building  in 
the  years  between  the  start  of  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  and 
the  advent  of  the  Civil  War,  the  Middle  West  had  not  come  fully 
into  its  own  in  railroad  transportation.  Wisconsin  was  developing, 
but  more  as  a  lumber  region  than  as  an  agrarian  settler's  goal,  be- 
cause of  AVill  Ogden's  knowledge  and  appreciation  of  the  value  of 
timber  as  an  adjunct  to  conquest  by  civilization.  In  the  Northwest, 
however,  up  Minnesota  way,  the  settlers  were  still  trudging  in  pure 
pioneer  austerity  when  Lincoln  made  his  first  call  for  troops. 

In  Minnesota  there  were  few  people,  no  money,  and  little  of  anj'- 
thing  else  save  a  mass  courage — not  cashable  at  the  moment.  Accord- 
ing to  the  census  taken  when  this  bit  of  wilderness  was  given  terri- 
torial status,  the  population  was  4,680  and  assessable  property 
totaled  $-il'i,936.  All  that  saved  the  region  from  complete  isolation 
from  the  rest  of  the  world  was  a  system  of  broad  and  placid  rivers 
by  which  produce — if  there  should  ever  be  any — might  be  freighted 
down  to  the  Mississippi.  The  only  mart  towns  were  a  few  sprawling 
settlements  on  the  great  river,  one  of  which  was  St.  Paul. 

The  vast  lands  west  of  the  Mississipjji  were  for  the  most  part 
unsettled  and  unsurveyed. 

85 


8C  N  O  It  T  U  «   K  S  T     T  K  n  R  I  T  O  tl  Y 

The  early  comers  to  the  territory  arc  now  classed  as  people  of 
fjreat  coiiraj^e  and  endurance,  as  no  doubt  they  were.  In  the  hamlets 
of  civilization,  where  they  had  listened  to  tales  of  great  riches  in  the 
promised  lands  of  the  North  Star  country,  they  seem  generally  to 
have  been  looked  upon  as  simple  crackpots — not  a  bad  diagnosis  on 
the  face  of  available  evidence.  But,  whatever  j'ou  may  say  of  the 
melange  of  hopeful  Swedes,  Norwegians,  Germans,  and  Irish  who 
began  to  pour  into  the  tributary  valleys  of  the  upper  Mississippi, 
you  can't  deny  that  they  dreamed  great  dreams. 

When  the  first  legislative  Assembly  convened,  in  18-i9,  Governor 
Ramsey  addressed  it  with  evangelical  optimism.  He  looked  out  from 
the  windows  of  a  makeshift  capitol  at  the  sprawling  shacks  of  a 
makeshift  river  town  better  acquainted  with  canoes  and  rafts  than 
with  the  steamboats  that  elsewhere  were  making  the  Mississippi  the 
most  important  axis  of  commerce  in  the  Middle  West.  Behind  him, 
had  he  bothered  to  look,  stretched  the  blue-green  barriers  of  a  forest, 
only  partly  explored  and  inhabited  only  by  Indians  and  wild  fauna. 
He  took  a  deep  breath  and  said  convincingly : 

•  Perhaps  no  portion  of  the  earth's  surface  combines  so  many  favorable 
features  for  the  settler  as  this  territory.  The  immigrant  and  the  capitalist 
need  but  perceive  these  sources  of  prosperity  and  wealth  to  seize  upon 
tliem  by  settling  among  us.  It  should  not  be  long  ere  we  may  with  truth 
be  recognized  throughout  the  political  and  moral  world  as  the  "polar 
star"  of  the  great  republican  galaxy.   .  .   . 

Brave  words  and  truly  prophetic,  but  only  by  crediting  the  gov- 
ernor with  a  phenomenal  gift  of  second  sight  can  they  be  justified. 
No  matter  what  its  friends  might  have  said  about  it,  the  territory  of 
Minnesota  all  the  way  from  what  is  now  Duluth  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Big  Sioux  River  over  on  the  southeast  corner  of  Dakota  was  still 
Indian  country.  It  might  have  remained  so  for  many  a  year  had  it 
not  been  for  the  success  of  men  like  Will  Ogden  and  his  belief  that 
rail  transport  had  come  to  stay. 

There  was  virtually  no  communication  between  the  inland  settle- 
ments of  the  territory,  such  as  they  were.  Mail  came  to  St.  Paul  via 
Prairie  du  Chien  once  a  week  during  the  season  when  the  river  was 
free  of  ice.  It  was  hauled  overland  twice  a  month  during  the  winter. 
Its  progress  into  the  hinterlands  thereafter  was  dependent  upon  the 


TERRITORY  IN  NEED  or  A  RAILROAD  87 

whims  of  passing  horsemen.  The  need  for  post  roads  was  recognized 
almost  at  once.  Nine  messages  were  sent  on  this  subject  to  Congress 
by  the  Territorial  Assembly  in  1849,  and  nine  appropriations  were 
granted  for  the  construction  of  what  were  euphemistically  called 
highways  through  the  wilderness. 

Over  the  Mississippi  in  Wisconsin  Territory,  of  which  Minnesota 
had  been  a  part,  considerable  work  had  been  done  to  make  the  rivers 
suitable  for  the  distribution  of  goods.  But  by  1853  the  hope  that  all 
the  bounty  of  the  fabulous  farmlands  would  go  down  to  the  sea  in 
sliips  had  begun  to  peter  out.  Even  by  that  time  and  despite  limited 
production  of  grain  in  the  few  settlements  there  were  increasing  dif- 
ficulties in  water  transportation.  Few  channels  were  deep  enough 
for  navigation  by  steamboats ;  canoes  didn't  hold  much,  and  rafts 
were  difficult  to  manage. 

The  river  communities  continued  to  petition  Congress  that  some- 
thing be  done  about  this  situation.  It  was  pointed  out  that  even  the 
Mississippi — at  least  the  upper  end  of  it — could  stand  a  lot  of 
dredging.  But  the  Federal  government  wasn't  interested  in  rivers. 
Minnesota,  still  firm  in  the  faith  as  expounded  by  Governor  Ramsey, 
began  to  look  for  its  manifest  destiny  elsewhere. 

Ogden's  little  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  Railway  was  pushing 
out  across  the  Illinois  prairies  from  Chicago.  Congress,  thanks  to 
the  arguments  of  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  had  voted  aid  for  new  rail- 
roads in  the  shape  of  land  grants.  Governor  Ramsey,  eager  to  share 
in  similar  largesse,  asked  the  Assembly  to  memorialize  Congress.  The 
Assembly  took  its  time,  but  eventually  complied. 

Ramse3''s  status  as  a  prophet  was  being  proved  much  more  rap- 
idly than  is  customary  in  such  cases.  It  is  still  difficult  to  say  whether 
he  was  the  most  farseeing  visionary  or  the  most  practical  business 
man  of  his  time.  He  had  a  bit  of  luck  when  a  peace  treaty  with  the 
Sioux  was  signed  in  February  of  1853.  But  whatever  the  cause,  the 
world  began  to  rush  to  his  promising  wilderness  as  he  had  so  amaz- 
ingly predicted. 

By  boat,  prairie  schooner,  oxcart,  and  afoot,  the  starry-eyed  pil- 
grims began  to  pour  into  the  promised  land.  They  came  at  first  from 
as  far  as  the  eastern  seaboard,  by  various  water  routes  through  the 
Great  Lakes  and  Chicago,  by  the  venturous  Galena  to  Frecport 
and  Dixon   in   Illinois,   and   then   on   to   the   Mississippi   and   deck 


88  NORTIIWESTTEnniTORY 

passafje  nortliward  on  a  river  steamer.  Or  they  struggled  overland 
by  stage  across  Wisconsin, 

Wagons  came  over  the  newly  constructed  government  roads  to 
meet  the  incoming  horde  at  the  steamboat  landings  or  at  the  little 
outfitting  posts  along  the  Mississippi,  St.  Croix,  and  Minnesota 
rivers.  These  few  contact  points  between  the  thinly  spread  civiliza- 
tion of  the  Mississippi  Valley  and  the  dread  isolation  of  the  back 
country  continued  to  roar  for  many  a  j'ear. 

One  has  come  to  think  of  the  great  westward  trek  In  the  years  pre- 
ceding the  Civil  War  as  something  peculiarly  linked  with  the  gold 
rush  and  the  promised  comforts  of  California.  So  It  brings  a  shock 
to  discover  how  many  of  these  travelers  broke  awaj'  from  the  main 
tide  and  spread  northward.  By  1857  the  population  had  Increased 
to  150,000,  and  taxable  property  totaled  nearly  fifty  million  dollars. 

There  was  high  hope  In  the  land.  It  was  hard  to  break  the  sod  for 
tillage,  but  the  soil  was  good,  and  crops  seemed  easy  to  raise.  The 
East — and  for  that  matter  the  gluttonous  colossus,  Chicago — 
would  pay  a  high  price  for  Minnesota  wheat  and  corn,  provided  a 
way  could  be  found  to  get  the  stuff  to  market. 

So  In  St.  Paul,  which  was  presently  to  be  the  capital  of  a  new 
state,  there  was  much  talk  about  the  fortunes  that  were  waiting  to 
be  wrested  from  the  land  as  soon  as  producers  and  buyers  could  be 
brought  together,  and  even  more  conversation  about  the  miracle 
presently  to  be  wrought  by  the  railroads — all  of  which  led  to  the 
now  classic  remark  of  one  Olaf  Jensen,  a  cabinetmaker. 

"There  Is  good  money  In  coffins,"  he  said,  "If  you  can  sell  them." 

Unlike  many  hegiras  In  human  history,  the  movement  Into  the 
Northwest  turned  directly  to  the  farms.  There  were  a  few  doctors, 
lawyers,  merchants,  and  engineers  with  the  new  citizenry.  But  only 
a  few.  Ninety-nine  per  cent  of  the  Incoming  thousands  moved  on 
the  land  offices  where  government  tracts  were  being  sold  at  $1.25  an 
acre  to  homesteaders  who  would  agree  to  establish  residence  and 
cultivate  the  tracts  they  bought. 

At  the  end  of  1854,  500,000  acres  of  Minnesota  land  had  been  sold 
that  way.  During  the  next  year  settlers  took  up  1,000,000  more.  In 
1858,  2,500,000  acres  were  similarly  transferred. 

Dwellings  of  one  sort  or  another  began  to  spring  up  In  numbers 
In  the  hardwood  regions  along  the  watercourses.  Numerous  villages 


TERRITORY     IN     NEED     OF     A     RAILROAD  89 

blossomed  bravely,  sometimes  in  the  most  inaccessible  places.  The 
woods  began  to  echo  to  the  whine  of  sawmills  and  the  creak  of  water 
wheels  turning  out  grist.  There  was  a  fine  demand  for  lumber  as 
new  waves  of  populace  came  in  from  the  East,  a  demand  for  flour 
that  increased  as  the  frontier  became  aware  of  the  panic  of  1857 — 
still  the  railroads  didn't  come. 

Reading  the  stirring  speeches  over  the  proposition  of  Minnesota's 
statehood,  one  is  likely  to  forget  that  things  were  still  fairly  primi- 
tive back  in  the  tall  timber  even  then.  One  of  the  arguments  for  ad- 
mission to  the  Union  was  based  on  a  prophecy :  A  great  transcon- 
tinental railroad  was  to  be  built  from  the  Mississippi  Valley  to  the 
Pacific  Northwest,  and  Minnesota  had  to  be  made  a  state  and  given 
proper  representation  in  Washington  to  protect  her  own  interests. 
Minnesota  had  to  have  the  self-determination  by  which  she  could 
make  herself  the  wealthiest  state  in  the  Union.  But  the  sturdy  elec- 
tors who  were  willing  to  fight  for  their  right  to  become  wealthy  didn't 
look  very  wealthy.  The  plush  ease  of  transcontinental  rail  travel  may 
have  been  close  at  hand,  but  it  must  have  been  difficult  to  envision 
when  one  considered  it  from  the  seat  of  a  jolting  wagon  or  the  damp 
bottom  of  a  canoe. 

The  first  settlers  in  Minnesota  Territory  built  and  lived  in  log 
cabins.  So  did  the  greater  number  of  those  who  followed  them.  In 
time  settlers  around  Stillwater  built  frame  houses — for  sawmills 
were  plentiful  in  the  region,  and  lumber  easy  to  get.  But  there  weren't 
too  many  of  these  modern  and,  one  fears,  ostentatious  dwellings. 
The  better-favored  settlers,  until  the  time  of  the  Civil  War,  lived  in 
log  houses.  The  less  fortunate — the  lads  who  found  their  homestead 
acreage  on  prairie  land  far  from  a  supply  of  wood — lived  in  sod 
shanties  of  the  sort  you  have  heard  about  in  the  lyrics  of  the  period : 

Oh,  the  hinges  were  of  leather 
And  the  windows  had  not  glass 

And  the  cracks  they  let  the  howling  blizzards  in. 

You  could  hear  the  hungry  coyotes 
As  they  snuck  up  through  the  grass 
In  my  little  old  sod  shanty  on  the  plain. 


90  NOnTIIWESTTERRITOnY 

They  weren't  luxurious — these  sod  houses — but  as  an  example  of 
pioneer  resourcefulness  they  deserve  a  rating  by  the  architectural 
societies.  To  build  one  you  took  a  hatchet  or  some  similar  tool  and 
cut  out  of  the  prairie  pieces  of  sod  a  foot  wide,  a  foot  and  a  half 
long,  and  some  four  inches  thick.  These  were  laid  like  brick  and  held 
in  position  by  a  mortar  made  of  white  clay  mixed  with  buffalo  grass. 
The  roof  consisted  of  poles  held  close  together  with  willow  twigs  and 
covered  with  sod.  Windows  and  door  frames  were  cut  into  the  walls 
with  an  ax.  Floors  were  generally  made  of  dirt  tamped  down  with  a 
flat  rock,  though  sometimes  they  were  covered  with  boards  or  squares 
of  bark. 

Such  dwellings  were  heated  by  a  sheet-iron  stove  known  to  the 
trade  as  an  "airtight."  It  produced  pretty  good  results  with  a  small 
amount  of  fuel.  Inasmuch  as  it  was  designed,  for  purposes  of  econ- 
omy, to  prevent  quick  combustion,  it  probably  generated  a  lot  of 
carbon  monoxide.  But  the  normal  leakage  of  the  house  made  monox- 
ide a  matter  of  no  moment.  And  the  tall  stovepij^e  sticking  up  eight 
or  ten  feet  above  the  roof  made  a  fair  ventilator  when  the  premises 
were  completely  snowed  in. 

The  fuel,  one  should  add,  was  just  as  novel  as  the  stove.  It  con- 
sisted of  dry  prairie  hay  twisted  into  hard  knots — as  well  as  buffalo 
chips — and  is  said  to  have  lasted  quite  well  in  hay-burning  equipment 
— and  maybe  it  did. 

Stables  outside  the  wooded  areas  were  even  more  elementary  than 
houses.  To  build  one  of  these  you  set  out  four  corner  posts  and  out- 
lined the  walls  with  a  sort  of  latticework  of  rails  and  poles.  Over  this 
latticework,  at  threshing  time,  you  piled  wheat  straw.  In  the  same 
fashion  you  contrived  a  roof.  The  keeping  of  grain  was  a  consider- 
able problem.  What  couldn't  be  marketed  had  to  be  stored,  and  there 
were  few  granaries  in  the  territory.  Most  farmers  made  bins  out  of 
rails  and  lined  them  with  hay  or  straw  to  keep  the  grain  from  run- 
ning out. 

Minnesota,  after  the  Civil  War,  had  begun  to  sjiow  signs  of  living 
up  to  the  advance  notices  of  tiie  orators  of  tiie  late  fifties,  but  it  was 
not  until  the  seventies  that  barns,  granaries,  frame  houses,  and 
drilled  wells  could  be  had  in  many  parts  of  the  state. 

Living  began  by  being  hard.  It  continued   to  be  uncomfortable. 


TERRITORY     IN      NEED      OF      A     RAILROAD  yi 

Pioneers  off  the  paths  of  transportation  remained  pioneers  long 
after  they  had  served  their  apprenticeship. 

Settlers  coming  into  the  state  as  late  as  1880  still  had  to  face  the 
job  of  breaking  the  sod.  In  the  eighties  some  of  them  had  steel  plows. 
Their  predecessors  for  the  most  part — and  that  includes  90  per  cent 
of  those  who  were  demanding  statehood  and  a  transcontinental  rail- 
road in  1858 — had  been  forced  to  get  along  with  wooden  implements. 

Out  of  sheer  necessity,  neighbors  formed  little  associations  to  help 
one  another  in  such  jobs.  Sometimes  it  took  ten  yoke  of  oxen  to  pull 
a  plow  through  the  tough  mat  of  weather-packed  earth  and  grass 
roots.  Before  the  sod  was  broken  the  prairie  hay  was  cut  off  with  a 
scythe — sometimes  as  much  as  three  or  four  tons  to  the  acre — and 
carried  to  stacks  on  peeled  poles.  Professionals  toured  the  farm  belts 
offering  to  do  both  these  jobs  for  from  eight  to  twelve  dollars  an 
acre. 

Considering  that  the  original  price  of  the  land  had  been  $1.25  an 
acre,  there  were  some  Minnesota  economists  who  thought  the  cost  of 
preparation  a  little  too  high. 

After  the  broken  land  had  been  allowed  to  lie  fallow  a  year,  it  was 
sown  by  hand.  It  was  harvested  with  a  scythe  and  threshed — gener- 
ally— with  a  flail  or  under  the  hoofs  of  horses. 

Community  life  had  developed  considerably  during  the  late  fifties 
— at  least  a  farmer  was  usually  fairly  close  to  his  own  kind.  Circuit 
riding  doctors  provided  him  with  medical  care  of  a  sort  or  at  any 
rate  gave  him  the  feeling  that  he  could  get  help  if  he  needed  it. 
School  buildings  were  to  be  found  in  ever}'  settlement  and  had  become 
the  center  of  social  activities.  Itinerant  preachers  used  them  for 
religious  services ;  amateur  theatrical  groups  used  them  for  theaters  ; 
farmers  visited  in  them  on  wintry  evenings.  A  man  no  longer  had  to 
be  lonely.  And  the  old  lads  who  walked  from  their  sod  shanties  to  the 
log  schoolhouse  on  nights  when  it  was  thirty  below,  and  sat  around 
the  stove  discussing  how  much  they'd  get  for  their  wheat  if  they 
could  sell  it  anywhere,  probably  thought  they  were  getting  soft  with 
too  much  prosperity. 

But  were  they?  They  went  to  bed  early  at  night  because  they 
had  nothing  much  else  to  do.  House  lighting  was  a  problem.  Tallow 
dips  sold  for  thirty  cents  a  dozen — sperm  candles  for  fifty  cents  a 


yz  NORTHWESTTEnniTOnY 

dozen — and  inasmuch  as  a  man  might  go  a  month  in  the  hitc  fifties 
without  seeing  a  dollar — well,  few  people  invested  in  candles. 

Beds  were  made  with  rope  nets  serving  as  springs.  You  slept  on  a 
straw  tick  stuffed  with  straw  and  covered  yourself  with  a  mattress 
stuffed  with  wild-goose  feathers.  There  was  nothing  sybaritic  about 
the  feather  bed.  Its  chief  function  was  to  keep  the  occupant  from 
freezing  to  death  when  the  fire  died  out  in  the  night. 

For  months  on  end  you  lived  on  your  own  products  which,  in 
those  days  of  undivcrsified  farming  and  simple  dietetics,  consisted 
of  dried  beef,  smoked  pork,  potatoes,  and  grits.  You  got  wool  for 
clothing  by  shearing  your  own  sheep.  Your  wife  carded  it,  spun  it 
into  yarn,  and  made  it  up  into  homespun.  She  likewise  made  soap  by 
leaching  wood  ashes  for  lye,  which  she  boiled  with  grease. 

You  toiled  in  the  stifling  days  of  valley  summers  in  the  fields.  At 
dawn  you  were  up  and  about  caring  for  your  cattle — good  weather 
or  bad.  You  looked  to  your  own  comfort,  if  an}',  after  the  last  ani- 
mal had  been  fed — but  why  go  on  with  it.'' 

This  is  the  old  story  of  the  pioneer  unaltered  and  unimproved  in 
the  telling  since  the  days  of  the  worthy  Pilgrims.  It  is  the  story  of 
the  Colonies  and  the  Cumberlands  and  the  Western  Reserve  and  Chi- 
cago and  Salt  Lake  City.  But  there's  a  difference.  This  time  it  is 
the  story  not  of  a  savage  waste  beyond  the  pale  of  settlement,  but 
of  a  great  and  prosperous  state  in  fairly  recent  times.  It  is  the 
story  of  able  men  who  spun  their  own  wool  almost  in  the  shadow  of 
active  cloth  mills,  who  harvested  their  grain  by  hand  within  a  possi- 
ble day's  journey  of  the  IMcCormick  reaper  works;  who,  in  an  area 
profusely  wooded  and  well  provided  with  sawmills,  eked  out  their 
dreary  days  in  sod  shanties.  In  other  words,  it  is  the  picture  of  the 
winning  of  the  West  before  the  coming  of  the  railroad. 

One  notes  in  the  diary  of  Mitchell  Y.  Jackson  *  that  because  of  the 
sudden  influx  of  prospective  wheat  farmers  in  the  middle  fifties,  the 
territory  suddenly  found  itself  facing  a  demand  greater  than  the 
available  supply  of  grain.  Food  was  hauled  up  to  St.  Paul,  La  Cres- 
cent, and  Winona  from  older  settlements  far  down  the  river,  and 
flour  was  an  article  of  import  until  the  end  of  1857. 

The  cost  of  transportation  continued  to  be  an  unpredictable  dif- 

•  Jackson,  Mitchell  Y.,  Minnesota  Farmer's  Diaries,  Minnesota  Historical  Soci- 
ety, 1939. 


TERRITORY      IN      NEED      OF      A     RAILROAD  93 

ferential  between  what  a  farmer  earned  and  what  he  was  going  to 
have  left  to  spend. 

Farm  products  brought  high  prices  for  a  while  during  the  pre- 
war boom,  but  fell  so  low  during  the  1857  depression  that  it  seemed 
profitless  to  try  to  market  them.  Army  demands  brought  better — 
theoretical — prices.  Issuance  of  paper  money  by  the  Federal  govern- 
ment ended  a  couple  of  j'ears  of  what  had  become  primitive  barter. 
But  Jackson  observed  that  the  prices  of  crops  and  the  prices  of  farm 
necessities  never  quite  leveled  off. 

Transportation  costs,  of  course,  worked  against  the  resident  of 
the  upper  Mississippi  area  both  ways.  They  had  to  be  deducted  from 
whatever  he  might  receive  at  a  terminal  market.  Tliey  had  to  be 
added  to  anything  he  might  buy  for  his  farm  or  his  family. 

In  1860  there  was  a  spread  of  as  much  as  22  cents  a  bushel  in  the 
price  of  wheat  between  Stillwater  and  Milwaukee.  A  cost  sheet  of 
the  period  shows  why.  (The  figures  are  the  cost  in  cents  per  bushel.) 

Commission  for  buying,  sacking,  aud  shipping 0 .  04 

Insurance  and  wastage 0 .  005 

Depreciation  on  sacks 0.01 

Sale  expense,  Milwaukee 0 .  015 

Freight,  Stillwater-Milwaukee 0. 15 

Total 0.23 

In  that  year  there  were  some  fantastic  transactions  in  food.  Some- 
thing more  than  a  quarter  million  pounds  of  pork  were  packed  and 
sold  at  St.  Peter  for  an  average  price  of  3%  cents  a  pound.  Chickens 
were  scarce,  and  there  is  the  record  of  one  man  who  paid  five  dollars 
in  gold  for  a  hen,  raised  fifteen  chickens,  and  sold  them  for  twenty 
dollars.  He  incurred  one  exceptional  bit  of  expense,  however.  He  paid 
another  five  dollars  for  a  cat  to  protect  his  growing  flock  from  field 
mice. 

A  few  months  later,  Jackson  noted  in  his  diary : 

January,  Saturday  31st — Drive  to  St.  Paul  with  load  of  meal,  etc. 
Chilly.  I  sold  flour  today  at  $5.00  per  bbl.  which  is  higher  than  it  has  been 
for  two  years  or  more.  Whilst  most  kinds  of  goods  have  been  steadily 
advancing  for  a  year,  produce  has  kept  low,  but  now  both  flour  and  pork 
begin  to  feel  the  effects  of  the  more  abundant  supply  of  money  or  the 
paper  currency  that  is  taking  the  place  of  money.  Heavy  brown  sheeting 


f)  *  NORTHWEST     TERRITORY 

one  yard  wide  is  held  at  40  cents  a  yard  wliich  is  an  advance  of  300  per 
cent  in  less  tlian  two  years.  Sugar  that  we  have  been  buying  at  8  cents 
a  pound  now  is  bringing  fifteen  cents.  Crushed  sugar  now  costs  I673 
cents  per  pound.  Tliese  are  war  times.  .  .   , 

Those  were  war  times,  thou/rh  how  an  average  farmer  working 
average  soil  in  the  backwoods  could  determine  their  difference  from 
peace  times  is  difficult  to  say. 

Anthony  Trollope,  in  a  report  on  travel  in  the  Missis.si])pi  Valley 
in  the  early  sixties,  tells  of  watching  the  IMinnesota  troops  on  their 
way  to  war.  He  rightly  judges  them  to  be  the  tough  fighting  men 
they  actually  were.  He  speaks  admiringly  of  their  casual  but  effec- 
tive discipline,  their  excellent  behavior,  and  their  innate  intelligence. 
But  he  overlooks  one  point,  because  nobody  has  bothered  to  tell  him 
what  he  is  looking  at,  and  the  woods  are  too  wide  and  too  thick  for 
him  to  see  for  himself.  He  is  witnessing  what  may  well  rate  as  the 
Civil  War's  biggest  troop  movement  west  of  the  Mississippi  River. 
He  watches  it  spread  over  the  landing  stages  and  up  the  planks  to 
the  decks  of  the  waiting  river  steamboats.  It  is  an  impressive  mobili- 
zation without  undue  haste,  but  also  without  confusion  or  delay. 
But  what  the  distinguished  visitor  doesn't  know  is  that  this  fine 
concentration  of  arms  is  the  end  product  of  a  series  of  long  route 
marches,  individual  horseback  rides,  canoe  trips,  and  cross-country 
treks  through  what  he,  or  any  other  Englishman  of  his  time,  would 
class  as  a  jungled  desolation.  A  squad  or  two  at  a  time,  they  had 
straggled  into  the  river  settlements.  Hundreds — thousands — of  them 
had  answered  the  call  unquestioningly. 

And  now,  as  Trollope  saw  them,  they  were  getting  aboard  the 
steamboats  headed  south.  They  were,  as  he  described  them,  fine  brave 
men  of  great  resourcefulness  and  spirit.  They  carried  new  rifles. 
They  looked  like  other  bodies  of  soldiery  he  had  seen  before,  only 
much  more  striking.  And  yet,  he  might  have  been  told,  if  they  were 
to  be  consistent  in  their  defense  of  the  type  of  civilization  from  which 
they  had  just  come  down  to  the  river,  they  might  have  been  better 
armed  with  bows  and  arrows. 

A  few  miles  of  strap  rail  had  been  laid  in  Minnesota  before  Lin- 
coln's call  for  volunteers,  but  not  yet  enough  to  make  any  difference 
in  the  region's  primitive  economy  or  social  discomfort. 


Cl 


'lapter    // 

TWIN     CITIES     IN     THE 
WILDERNESS 


Without  railroads  it  seemed  foreordained  from  the  beginning  that 
the  large  settlements  in  Minnesota  must  lie  along  the  Mississippi. 
The  Minnesota  River  was  trickily  navigable  during  part  of  the  year, 
but  then  only  with  small  craft  and  at  high  prices.  The  rise  of  such 
towns  as  Mankato,  New  Ulm,  Le  Sueur,  and  Rochester  was  due  to 
the  settlers'  courage  in  almost  constant  defeat.  The  state  was  no 
more  able  to  dig  channels  than  it  was  able  to  finance  rail  lines,  and 
bumper  wheat  crops  frequently  lay  immovable  in  granaries  of  the 
Minnesota  Valley  for  two  years  on  end  at  no  profit  to  anybody.  Only 
if  you  could  move  the  grain  to  landings  on  the  big  river  could  you 
trade  it  for  tools  and  clothing  and  other  tokens  of  domestic  com- 
fort. Which  accounts  for  the  strange  metropolitan  conceit  known 
as  the  Twin  Cities. 

Somebody  has  said  that  Minneapolis  came  into  being  because  sol- 
diers needed  sour  dough,  and  that  St.  Paul  was  founded  in  a  river 
front  grogshop — which  probably  gives  one  the  wrong  impression. 
The  bored  Indian  fighters,  turned  millers,  had  abandoned  their 
project  at  St.  Anthony's  Falls  long  before  Minneapolis  got  its  odd 
name  on  the  early  maps.  And  to  classify  Pierre  Parrant's  whisky 
shanty  as  St.  Paul,  even  briefly,  comes  under  the  head  of  careless 
diagnosis.  Admitted  that  Pierre  Parrant  was  the  first  settler  within 
what  are  now  St.  Paul's  city  limits ;  that  he  sold  alcoholic  corrosives 
to  soldiers  from  the  near-by  fort ;  that  he  put  up  a  shack  that  might 
be  identified  as  a  dwelling  as  well  as  a  business  house — still  nobody 
looked  upon  the  place  as  a  city  even  in  embryo.  And  whatever  else 

95 


NORTHWEST     TEnnlTOHY 


Pierre  Parrant  niiglit  liave  been,  he  was  definitely  not  a  settlement. 

The  land  he  held  in  trust  for  the  future  St.  Paul  was  given  a  dif- 
ferent name  by  the  soldiery.  They  called  it  "Pig's  Eye" — a  descrip- 
tive place  name  having  to  do  with  the  proprietor's  face. 

Mendota,  a  trading  post  at  the  junction  of  the  Minnesota  and 
Mississippi  rivers,  was  the  center  of  the  Red  River  fur  trade  in  the 
early  thirties.  It  might  well  have  prospered  and  gathered  in  the  com- 
munities that  made  up  St.  Paul  and  Minneapolis.  But  it  was  laid  out 
on  government  land  to  which  nobody  had  bothered  to  obtain  title. 
So  it  died,  or  at  any  rate  settled  down  into  an  unbroken  coma. 

The  French  had  gone,  or  most  of  them,  at  the  time  of  the  Louisi- 
ana Purchase,  leaving  names  to  be  perpetuated  in  a  whole  series  of 
parks  and  public  buildings  and  statues  and  streets  in  cities  they 
could  never  have  dreamed  of. 

The  Treaty  of  Ghent  in  ISl-t  ended  British  authority  over  the 
Mississippi  Vallej'.  His  JMajesty's  troops  moved  out  of  Prairie  du 
Chien  and  up  into  Canada.  John  Jacob  Astor's  American  Fur  Com- 
pany moved  in  two  years  later.  The  Army,  as  usual,  followed  the  fur 
trade,  and  in  1820  Colonel  Josiah  Snelling  established  the  fort  which 
has  since  borne  his  name. 

Colonel  Snelling  ordered  the  construction  of  two  mills  on  the  west 
side  of  St.  Anthony's  Falls,  upriver  from  Pig's  Eye's  groggery.  One 
was  put  to  immediate  use  cutting  lumber  for  the  buildings  of  the  fort. 
The  other  was  a  grist  mill  which  was  to  see  intermittent  service  mak- 
ing flour  out  of  such  wheat  as  the  military  could  be  induced  to  grow. 
Settlers  moved  in  and  took  claims  adjoining  the  falls.  Pierre  Botti- 
neau, who  fills  a  place  in  local  legend  second  only  to  that  of  Paul 
Bun3'an,  joined  forces  with  Franklin  Steele  and  built  a  dam  and  saw- 
mill on  the  east  side  of  the  falls.  More  settlers,  mostly  of  French  and 
Indian  extraction,  came  to  look  into  the  possibilities  of  this  unusual 
industrial  venture.  The  fact  that  Steele  and  Bottineau  turned  out 
to  be  the  owners  of  all  the  land  along  the  east  bank  apparently  made 
no  difference.  Some  250  persons  stayed,  and  the  village  of  St. 
Anthony  was  on  its  way  to  become  East  ]\Iinncapolis. 

In  1838  a  few  families  of  Franco-Swiss  refugees  from  a  colony 
on  the  Red  River  were  ordered  off  the  military  reservation  where 
they  had  haphazardly  settled.  They  moved  across  the  river  and  there 
discovered  the  shack  of  Pierre  Parrant.  Despite  lack  of  any  encour- 


TWINCITIESINTHEWILDEHNESS  97 

agement  from  Parrant,  they  built  shacks  of  their  own  and  sat  down 
to  stay.  Friends  of  the  newcomers  came  to  join  them,  and  the  little 
community  grew  and,  as  far  as  possible,  prospered. 

The  name  of  the  place  remained  Pig's  Eye  until  the  coming  of 
Father  Lucian  Galtier  in  October  of  1841.  With  the  aid  of  the  popu- 
lace he  built  a  chapel  which  he  consecrated  on  November  1  to  St. 
Paul,  whose  name  he  also  gave  to  his  newly  organized  parish.  His 
congregation  seemed  pleased  at  the  change.  But  Pierre  Parrant 
wasn't.  He  moved  a  couple  of  miles  down  river  and  founded  another 
one-man  settlement  named  Pig's  Eye  whose  title  sui-vives  on  maps 
if  nowhere  else. 

Pig's  Eye  or  St.  Paul,  St.  Anthony  or  Minneapolis,  nothing  much 
happened  to  these  settlements  for  another  ten  years  or  until  some- 
body got  around  to  making  a  working  agreement  with  the  Indians. 
Treaties  with  the  Sioux  in  1851  and  the  Chippewa  in  1854  produced 
some  business  for  the  mills  at  St.  Anthony's  Falls.  Wheat  began  to 
come  down  the  rivers  in  flatboats  and  canoes.  The  world  of  civiliza- 
tion—which is  to  say  St.  Louis,  or  maybe  Prairie  du  Chien — began 
to  hear  about  Minnesota  flour,  and  not  until  then  could  anybody 
have  predicted  that  these  communities  would  ever  be  more  than  a 
Mississippi  River  landing  place. 

The  population  of  St.  Paul  in  1849,  when  Minnesota  was  made  a 
territory,  was  840;  that  of  St.  Anthony,  10  miles  away,  about  250. 
St.  Paul  had  a  school,  chapel,  hotel,  post  office,  warehouses,  stores, 
and  about  125  homes.  St.  Anthony  had  two  mills,  a  store,  post  office, 
school,  and  a  few  dwellings.  But  St.  Anthony  also  had  an  undeclared 
asset  in  the  person  of  Colonel  John  H.  Stevens,  a  Mexican  War  hero. 

The  government  had  given  the  colonel  permission  to  build  a  house 
on  the  military  reservation  on  the  west  side  of  the  falls,  and  there  he 
had  settled,  causing  no  trouble  to  anj'body  until  some  of  his  friends 
moved  in  alongside  him  without  consulting  the  authorities.  Wliile 
argument  over  their  right  to  remain  was  still  going  on,  other  people 
moved  in — Yankee  settlers  who  declared  they  had  as  good  a  right  to 
stay  on  government  land  as  anybody  else. 

The  soldiery  came  repeatedly  to  tear  down  their  cabins  and  drive 
them  away.  But  always  they  came  back  to  start  the  debate  all  over 
again.  In  the  end  they  won.  W^ashington  got  word  of  the  turmoil  and 


98  NORTHWEST     TEnnlTOnY 

solved  tlie  problem  by  reducing  the  size  of  the  Fort  Snelling  reser- 
vation and  giving  the  squatters  title  to  their  disputed  land. 

By  that  time  quite  a  hamlet  had  grown  up  around  the  Falls,  in 
what  is  now  tlie  Minneapolis  downtown  district.  Somebody  suggested 
that  thev  call  the  place  Watertown.  But  that  didn't  sound  grand 
enough  for  Colonel  Stevens'  close  advisors ;  learnedly,  they  prepared 
a  translation — rmnnie  (Sioux  for  "water")  and  polls  (Greek  for 
"city").  An  "a"  was  furnished  for  euphony  by  the  St.  Anthony 
Express  editor  who  reported  the  meeting — and  there  you  have  Min- 
neapolis. 

The  towns,  despite  all  that  historians  and  writers  have  written 
about  them,  were  never  really  twins. 

St.  Paul  became  the  territorial  capital  because  it  was  not  only 
the  biggest  town  in  Minnesota  in  18-19  but  virtually  the  only  one. 
Despite  the  ambitions  of  other  cities  after  the  signing  of  the  Sioux 
treaties  it  remained  the  capital  because  for  years  no  other  locality 
in  the  region  had  its  facilities  as  a  trading  post.  It  became,  natu- 
rally, a  jobbing  and  distribution  center. 

Minneapolis,  thanks  to  its  water  power,  became  a  milling  town, 
a  manufacturing  town ;  and  though  these  differences  were  no  longer 
pronounced,  the  variation  in  civic  outlook  that  they  produced  re- 
mains today. 

St.  Paul,  during  the  middle  fifties  and  war  j-ears,  was  a  roaring 
place  with  a  large  transient  population.  Minneapolis  seemed  to  have 
more  permanence.  But  always  when  the  rival  populations  sat  down 
to  consider  their  prospects  they  arrived  at  the  same  troubling  fac- 
tor. Whether  to  haul  grain  to  the  mills  at  St.  Anthony's  Falls  or  to 
bring  back  trade  goods  from  civilization  to  the  wilderness  by  way 
of  St.  Paul,  the  rivers  were  hopelessly  inadequate.  So  the  two  most 
important  river  towns  in  the  Northwest  became  the  state's  loudest 
and  most  active  proponents  of  the  railroads. 

The  rise  of  the  cities  through  circumstances  of  environment,  natu- 
ral resources,  and  changing  conditions  in  transportation  is  a  story 
that  has  been  duplicated  elsewhere.  But  nowhere  has  the  interrela- 
tion of  commerce  and  transportation  been  given  so  magnificent  and 
visible  a  form.  Here,  where  the  mills  have  been  built  and  the  rails 
have  been  laid,  great  masses  of  white  C3'linders  rise  against  the  sky, 


TWINCITIESINTHE      WILDERNESS  99 

a  breathtaking  phalanx  of  incredible  pillars.  Here,  but  for  geog- 
raphy, is  a  more  majestic  projection  of  the  palace  of  the  popes  at 
Avignon,  a  vaster  conception  of  Toussaint  L'Ouverture's  hilltop 
fortress.  These  are  the  mills,  the  grain  elevators,  the  architecture  of 
wheat,  more  striking  temples  to  Ceres  than  ever  came  out  of  classic 
Greece. 

Alongside  them  rolls  the  railroad  that  made  them  possible  because 
it  made  them  necessary.  One  need  look  no  farther  to  see  the  miracle 
wrought  by  the  men  who  brought  the  rails  into  the  wilderness. 


Cl 


'lanler    ^2 

THE     RAILS     COME     TO     MINNESOTA 


Finally  the  railroads  came  to  ]\Iinnesota,  but  not  witlioiit  trials 
and  tribulations  that  would  have  discouraged  a  less  hardy  people. 
Still,  the  result  was  worth  waiting  for ;  for  out  of  the  tangle  of  rail- 
road projects  and  financial  difficulties  was  to  be  born  another  great 
link  in  the  North  Western  system — the  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Min- 
neapolis and  Omaha.  It  was  not  to  make  its  debut  until  the  roaring 
seventies  and  eighties,  but  this  is  the  way  it  began. 

The  spread  of  civilization  through  the  West  seems  to  have  been 
encouraged  in  a  variety  of  wa3's  during  the  years  immediately  pre- 
ceding the  Civil  War — gold  in  California,  a  promised  land  in  Utah, 
roaring  markets  in  Chicago,  steamboats  on  the  southern  rivers.  But 
the  old  Northwest  Territory  was  too  original  for  any  such  tech- 
niques. In  this  region — last  stamping  ground  of  the  harried  pioneer 
— the  advent  of  the  railroad — and  de  facto  the  advent  of  culture 
and  comfort — came  about  through  a  legislative  act  to  exterminate 
gophers,  blackbirds,  and  Sioux  Indians. 

Nobody  engaged  in  the  railroad  business  anj'where  in  the  United 
States  in  the  early  fifties  seems  to  have  been  willing  to  let  his  right 
hand  know  what  his  left  hand  was  doing.  Across  northern  Illinois, 
William  Ogden's  railway  had  pushed  on  toward  the  ]Mississippi. 
Tentacles  were  reaching  out  from  the  parent  line  toward  iMilwaukee 
and  up  into  Wisconsin's  timberlands.  The  Chicago  prophets  of  steam 
were  still  beholding  grand  visions.  .  .  .  Presently  there  would  be 
lines  extending  northwest  into  the  last  great  wilderness — lines  cross- 
ing the  continent — lines  binding  together  a  million  scattered,  iso- 
lated settlements  into  a  compact  national  unity.  Everybody  in  the 
Middle  West  was  able  to  recognize  the  glorious  inevitable  when  he 
saw  it.  But  few  of  these  seers  would  have  been  likely  to  identify  des- 
tiny with  a  plague  of  gophers  in  tlie  Minnesota  Valley. 

100 


THE     RAILS     COME     TO     MINNESOTA  101 

Despite  the  fact  that  the  Minnesota  Territory's  way  of  life  was 
outwardly  more  primitive  than  that  of  any  other  district  east  of 
the  Rockies,  the  natives  somehow  had  contrived  to  find  out  what  was 
going  on  in  the  world.  The  story  of  the  railroads  and  the  relation- 
ships between  cheap  transportation  and  a  community's  physical 
well-being  was  in  continuous  circulation.  And  by  1855  the  territorial 
Legislature  was  constantly  listening  to  the  harangues  of  young  men 
trying  to  go  somewhere. 

Seven  lines  had  already  been  chartered  by  special  legislation. 
Another  eight  were  under  discussion,  and  every  sizable  community 
had  its  promoters  anxious  to  share  in  prospective  Federal  grants. 

Governor  Willis  A.  Gorman  was  somewhat  distressed  by  these 
proceedings.  What  he  wanted  and  argued  for  in  the  Legislature  and 
with  visiting  committees  was  a  single  road  that  would  connect  the 
territory  with  the  outside  world.  The  local  enthusiasts  on  the  other 
hand  wanted  a  gridwork  of  steel  across  the  back  areas  so  that  they 
would  be  able  to  get  their  grain  as  far  as  the  Mississippi  and  bring  a 
few  conveniences  into  the  wilderness.  Early  in  1857  Congress  passed 
an  act  making  land  grants  to  four  Minnesota  railroads  whose  routes 
were  designated  in  a  general  way.  And  that  ended  a  lot  of  amateur 
enthusiasm  for  railroading,  although  it  did  not  immediately  bring 
about  the  laying  of  many  miles  of  rail. 

The  system  that  came  under  the  land  grants  wasn't  too  bad.  First 
there  was  the  present  line  of  the  Great  Northern  Railway  westward 
across  the  territory;  second,  a  line  from  St.  Paul  along  the  valley 
of  the  Minnesota  and  southwest  to  the  Missouri  River;  third,  a 
route  from  Winona  to  St.  Peter  on  the  Minnesota  River ;  and  fourth, 
the  Root  River  and  Southern  Minnesota  to  build  through  the  Root 
River  Valley  to  Rochester.  None  of  these  developments  was  likely 
to  bring  a  bush  farmer  in,  say.  Lake  Benton,  any  closer  to  Madison, 
Wisconsin.  But  at  least  they  would  enable  him  to  get  a  look  at  other 
settlements  that  were  said  to  lie  somewhere  on  the  other  side  of  the 
hills.  There  would  be  sales  depots  at  junction  points  on  the  lines 
where  he  could  dispose  of  his  potatoes  and  wheat  without  having 
to  haul  them  all  the  way  to  the  big  river.  And,  no  matter  where 
or  why  he  might  want  to  go,  travel  was  going  to  be  a  lot  easier 
in  a  railroad  coach  than  on  the  back  of  a  horse. 


NORTHWEST     TEURITOnT 


Tile  leader  of  tlie  coalition  that  had  worked  out  the  four-company 
railroad  system  favored  by  Congress  was  Edmund  Rice  of  St.  Paul, 
brother  of  the  Minnesota  delegate  to  Congress.  The  incorporators 
were  Minncsotans,  leaders  in  both  great  political  parties  and  men 
of  substance  and  influence  in  their  own  communities. 

These  men  had  no  difficulty  overcoming  scattered  and  inept  oppo- 
sition in  Washington.  The  government  aid  bill,  passed  on  March  3, 
1857,  conveyed  to  them  nearly  6,000,000  acres  of  public  lands.  The 
people  of  the  territory  were  highly  pleased  as  they  began  to  have 
hopes  for  a  new  and  better  life.  The  railroads  had  been  long  in  com- 
ing, they  said.  But  they  would  be  free  from  the  domination  of  finan- 
cial cliques  in  Chicago  or  the  East.  They  would  be  owned  at  home 
and  controlled  at  home.  And  they'd  make  a  paradise  out  of  the 
Northwest. 

An  extra  session  of  the  Legislature  was  called  in  April,  1857,  to 
pass  railroad  bills  specifying  territories  and  conditions  affecting 
the  land  grants.  An  early  proposal  to  deal  with  the  whole  matter 
in  a  consolidated  bill  was  defeated  in  the  House.  The  separate  bills 
then  were  carried  through  to  third  reading  when,  once  more,  senti- 
ment was  developed  in  favor  of  merging  the  three  as  an  omnibus.  We 
come  now  to  the  interesting  matter  of  the  gophers,  blackbirds,  and 
other  fauna  of  tiie  Northwest  Territory. 

While  sundry  committees  and  subcommittees  had  been  sweating 
over  the  transportation  business,  the  House,  just  to  occupy  its 
time,  had  passed  a  bill  encouraging  the  destruction  of  gophers  and 
blackbirds.  In  due  course  the  bill  was  sent  to  the  Council,  the  upper 
house,  for  concurrence.* 

The  Council,  in  a  similarly  playful  mood,  amended  the  bill  to 
encourage,  also,  the  destruction  of  Sioux  Indians.  On  May  20,  how- 
ever, the  Council  called  up  the  gopher  matter  for  further  considera- 
tion, amended  it,  and  sent  it  back  to  the  House. 

The  next  day  the  House,  after  some  argument,  approved  the 
amended  form  of  its  "Bill  to  Encourage  the  Destruction  of  Gophers 
and  Blackbirds."  Everything  after  the  enacting  clause  of  the  origi- 
nal measure  had  been  stricken  out,  and  in  its  place  was  an  omnibus 
railroad  bill  vesting  the  land  grant  in  four  corporations. 

This,  you  might  say,  was  an  odd  beginning  for  such  an  institution 

*  Folwell,  W.  W.,  Mlntifxola  HUtorical  Socictn  Collections,  vol.  15. 


THE      RAILS      COME      TO      MINNESOTA  103 

as  the  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and  Omaha  Railway',  though 
it  undoubtedly  was. 

The  transportation  act  had  a  double  effect  on  the  destinies  of 
the  Root  River  Valley  road.  For,  aside  from  conferring  the  Federal 
land  grant  in  aid  of  the  line,  it  also  specified  the  course  it  was  to 
follow.  One  road  was  to  be  built  through  the  Root  River  Valley  to 
a  junction  with  the  line  from  Winona  at  Rochester.  Another,  which 
turned  out  to  be  the  nucleus  of  a  great  system,  was  authorized  to 
run  from  St.  Paul  and  St.  Anthony  through  Minneapolis  and  up 
the  Minnesota  Valley  to  IMankato,  and  thence  to  the  territorial 
boundary  in  the  direction  of  the  mouth  of  the  Big  Sioux  River. 

The  name  of  the  road  was  changed  from  the  Root  River  and 
Southern  Minnesota  Railroad  Company  to  the  Southern  IVIinnesota 
Railroad  Company,  after  which  formality  everybody  sat  back  and 
waited  for  the  first  train  whistle.  They  were  a  long  time  waiting. 
There  was  plenty  of  trouble  in  store  for  the  railroads,  although 
nothing  untoward  seems  to  have  happened  to  the  gophers.  Hardly 
a  railroad  man  is  now  alive  who  remembers  anything  about  them  at 
all. 

Great  upsurges  in  human  progress  seem  to  follow  a  definite  pat- 
tern— at  least  in  so  far  as  they  have  anything  to  do  with  the  housing 
problem.  Once  the  four  favored  corporations  had  been  endowed,  the 
boom  was  on.  Nobody  bothered  to  wait  for  the  laying  of  any  rails. 
As  far  as  the  public  attitude  was  concerned  the  roads  were  presumed 
to  have  gone  miraculously  into  the  running  of  trains  as  soon  as  they 
got  a  legal  permit. 

New  villages  sprang  up  here  and  there  more  or  less  in  the  path 
of  the  projected  lines.  New  sawmills  began  to  promote  an  unprece- 
dented traffic  on  the  rivers.  They  ran  night  and  day,  no  matter  how 
far  they  might  be  from  settlements. 

So  of  course  there  was  land  speculation.  There  always  is.  In  the 
winter  of  1856  thousands  of  acres  of  unimproved  land — some  of  it 
near  human  habitation,  most  of  it  not — changed  hands  at  a  dollar 
and  a  quarter  an  acre.  The  spring  of  1857  saw  these  tracts  surveyed 
and  recorded  as  city  lots.  By  the  end  of  June  they  were  selling  for 
as  much  as  fifty  dollars  an  acre  even  when  there  wasn't  a  single  cabin 
in  sight  of  the  new  "city,"  and  despite  the  fact  that  there  might  be 
another  paper  town  barely  a  mile  distant. 


104  NORTHWEST     TERnlTORY 

In  a  few  of  the  older  communities,*  wiiich  seemed  iii<ely  to  be 
favored  by  the  railroad  constructors  when  they  got  around  to  it, 
the  boom  got  off  to  a  better  start.  It  was  not  unusual  for  a  well-lo- 
cated lot — the  value  of  the  location  determined  by  guess  and  hope — 
to  be  bought  for  five  hundred  dollars  in  the  morning  and  sold  for  one 
thousand  dollars  the  same  night.  Such  haphazard  judgment  has 
been  part  of  the  process  of  getting  rich  quick  since  long  before  1857. 

In  bits  of  mud  flat  that  imaginative  traders  pointed  out  as  corner 
lots,  water-power  sites,  or  factory  property,  the  hope  for  quick 
profit  was  greater  and  the  margin  of  risk  correspondingly  higher. 
Business  locations  on  the  near  North  Side  of  Chicago  could  have 
been  bought  in  1857  for  less  than  a  backlot  in  Sleepy  Eye  of  the  same 
period. 

Ordinary  land  was  up  almost  300  per  cent,  no  matter  where  found, 
and  iMitchell  Y.  Jackson,  the  diarist  elsewhere  quoted,  mentions  that 
he  grew  wealthy  in  Minnesota,  but  not  through  farming.  Rising  land 
values  would  have  made  him  rich  if  he  had  never  turned  a  sod. 

The  end  of  the  boom  came  quickly.  The  Minnesota  constitutional 
convention  was  stiU  in  session  when  the  Ohio  Life  Insurance  and 
Trust  Company  of  New  York  collapsed.  Other  banking  and  invest- 
ment houses  in  the  east  went  into  bankruptcy  and  the  panic  was  on. 

The  bad  news  reached  Minnesota  quickly  enough  despite  inade- 
quate communications.  Several  thousand  speculators  started  back 
to  the  outside  world  as  they  had  come,  over  the  dim  trails  downriver 
in  boats,  in  carts,  on  horseback,  or  afoot.  In  three  years,  according 
to  the  report  of  the  State  Commissioner  of  Statistics,  the  urban 
population  decreased  20  per  cent."!" 

St.  Paul,  the  capital  that  in  the  preceding  ten  years  had  become 
a  flourishing  city,  lost  half  its  population  between  the  collapse  of 
the  land  boom  and  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War.  Prospects  for 
the  new  railroads  began  to  look  very  bad  indeed.  Not  one  of  the  four 
seemed  to  be  in  a  position  at  the  end  of  1857  to  start  laying  track. 
There  was  every  likelihood  that  the  Federal  land  grants  would  re- 
vert to  the  government  because  of  the  companies'  inability  to  meet 
the  specified  time  limits  on  construction. 

In  this  emergency  the  Legislature,  aware  of  the  extent  to  which 

*  Red  Wing  is  cited  in  Parker,  Minnesota  Handbook  for  1856. 
+  Comm.  of  Statistics,  State  of  Minnesota,  Report  of  Jan.  1,  1860. 


THE     RAILS     COME     TO     MINNESOTA  lUO 

lack  of  transportation  was  affecting  the  state's  internal  economy', 
decided  to  bring  help.  A  constitutional  amendment  was  proposed 
(and  a  year  later  adopted)  providing  for  what  is  generally  called 
"the  five-million-doUar  loan." 

Under  the  terms  of  the  amendment  the  state  was  authorized  to 
issue  bonds  to  the  value  of  $1,250,000  to  each  of  the  four  land-grant 
railroad  corporations.  The  rate  of  delivery  was  to  be  $100,000  for 
every  10  miles  of  graded  road  and  another  $100,000  for  every  10 
miles  "actually  completed  and  cars  running  thereon." 

It  was  provided  that  the  railroads  were  to  bear  the  expenses  con- 
nected with  the  issue  and  to  pay  interest  for  which  they  pledged 
their  net  profits.  Each  company  was  to  deed  to  the  governor  and 
Secretary  of  State  the  first  140  sections  accruing  to  it  under  the 
land  grant.  Each  was  to  post  as  security  first-mortgage  bonds  on 
its  road's  lands  and  franchises.  And,  finally,  it  was  provided  that 
each  was  to  complete  50  miles  of  railroad  by  the  end  of  1861,  100 
miles  before  1865,  and  four-fifths  of  its  projected  line  by  1866. 

Some  odd  financial  theory  went  along  with  all  this.  Proponents 
of  the  railroad  relief  program  argued  that  the  state  was  not  incur- 
ring any  debt.  In  issuing  bonds  to  aid  such  necessary  utilities,  Min- 
nesota was  merely  lending  its  credit  (against  adequate  collateral), 
so  they  said.  And  as  assurance  that  there  should  be  no  future  claims 
against  the  state,  the  act  provided  that  the  favored  companies  should 
make  provision  for  the  payment  of  the  bonds,  principal  and  interest, 
when  due.* 

Under  this  arrangement,  it  was  believed,  nobody  in  the  state  ad- 
ministration need  have  any  further  concern  about  the  bonds  except 
to  see  that  they  were  delivered  promptly  as  the  construction  of  rail- 
road grades  progressed.  In  token  of  this  faith,  sixty-seven  legislators 
who  had  voted  for  the  act  pledged  themselves  never  to  support  taxes 
to  redeem  the  bonds. f 

The  governor  approved  the  amendment  on  March  9,  1858,  and  the 
people  voted  for  it  by  "an  overwhelming  majority"  six  weeks  later. 

The  Southern  Minnesota  accepted  the  conditions  of  the  relief 
program  and  in  the  late  summer  of  1858  began  work  on  a  grade  be- 

*  Minnesota  Historical  Society  Collections,  vol.  15,  p.  196. 

t  Ultimately  redeemed  by  Minnesota  Railway  Adjusting  Bonds,  1881,  and  Min- 
nesota Refunding  Bonds,  1910.  Ibid.,  p.  214. 


106  N  o  n  T  H  W  E  S  T     T  K  It  n  I  T  o  n  Y 

twccn  Mendota  and  Shakopce.  Construction  was  resumed  in  Janu- 
ary, 1859,  but  b_v  that  time  trouble  was  already  close  at  hand. 

Sonic  of  the  railroads  refused  to  give  an  exclusive  first  mortgage 
to  tlic  state  and  defeated  the  governor  in  the  courts.  Outside  the 
courts  nobody  seemed  to  regard  the  bonds  as  state  obligations.  So 
the  collapse  of  the  plan  came  quickly.  Bonds  that  at  first  had  found 
eager  buyers  at  par  were  presently  unsalable  at  any  reasonable 
price. 

By  July  1,  1859,  they  were  so  low  that  they  could  no  longer  be 
used  as  collateral.  On  that  date  the  Southern  Minnesota  had  com- 
pleted 37/^2  miles  of  preliminary  construction  for  which  contractors 
were  loudly  demanding  pay. 

The  state  had  issued  .$2,275,000  in  bonds.  And  as  the  Committee 
on  Railroad  Grants  and  Bonds  re])orted  in  the  House  journal  for 
1859-1860  (p.  390):  "All  that  could  be  shown  for  this  large  sum 
was  21'0  miles  of  incomplete,  fragmentary,  and  disjointed  portions 
of  grading."  Only  about  50  miles  of  grade  in  the  whole  state  was 
ready  for  the  laying  of  rails. 

By  act  of  Legislature,  Governor  Ramsey,  in  1860,  was  directed  to 
foreclose  the  state-held  mortgages  on  the  land-grant  railroads  and 
to  bid  in  the  roads  for  the  state  at  one  thousand  dollars  each.  Almost 
at  once,  further  effort  was  made  to  salvage  the  operating  companies. 
In  1861,  four  separate  acts  were  passed  restoring  to  them  all  their 
foreclosed  property  "free  from  all  claims  and  liens."  But  that  plan 
brought  no  rails  to  Minnesota,  either. 

Before  the  technicalities  of  the  transfer  had  been  completed  the 
country  was  in  the  middle  of  a  civil  war,  and  the  eastern  bankers 
weren't  interested  in  the  investment  possibilities  of  railroads  in  Min- 
nesota. The  Southern  Minnesota  Railroad  Company  wasn't  able  to 
raise  enough  money  even  to  start  construction  and  once  more  turned 
back  its  charter  and  its  assets  to  the  state. 

In  1862,  at  the  suggestion  of  Governor  Ramsey,  the  Legislature 
reenacted  the  relief  measures  of  1861.  The  Southern  Minnesota,  still 
unable  to  lay  track,  reorganized.  The  new  coi-poration  was  given 
all  the  old  one's  concessions  by  the  Legislature  of  1863.  And  not  a 
length  of  rail  was  put  down  that  year,  either.  It  is  interesting  to 
note  that  at  the  end  of  1862  there  wasn't  a  single  mile  of  completed 


THERAILSCOMETOMINNESOTA  107 

railroad  in  the  state.  By  that  time  the  farmers  of  tlie  fertile  valley 
of  the  Minnesota  were  being  engulfed  in  a  tide  of  wheat. 

In  another  year  their  situation  had  become  dire  as  well  as  fan- 
tastic. The  St.  Paul  Ptomer  on  January  1,  1864,  gave  the  startled 
capitol  a  few  details.  In  1863  the  Minnesota  River  had  been  open  to 
navigation  by  light  craft  for  only  20  days.  Half  the  grain  crop  of 
1862  and  virtually  all  of  the  crop  of  1863  had  been  put  in  storage 
on  farms  and  in  warehouses — 80,000  bushels  in  Mankato,  27,500 
in  Henderson,  12,725  in  Le  Sueur,  and  64',000  in  St.  Peter. 

Meanwhile,  with  the  end  of  the  war  in  sight,  the  financial  situation 
was  improving.  Property  values  were  rising  again,  and  the  land 
grants  that  would  accrue  to  the  roads  as  fast  as  tracks  were  laid 
down  took  on  the  proportions  of  a  tremendous  subsidy.  But  still  the 
state  declined  to  go  into  the  constiniction  business. 

Property  and  franchises  moved  to  and  fro  between  the  parent  cor- 
porations and  the  commonwealth  of  Minnesota  without  much  inci- 
dent worth  recording  save  the  reorganization  of  the  Transit  Com- 
pany as  the  Winona  and  St.  Peter  Railroad  Company.  Then  a  group 
of  St.  Paul  businessmen,  fully  aware  of  the  opportunity  that  lay  in 
the  valley  of  the  Minnesota  River,  got  some  eastern  backing  and  pro- 
moted the  Minnesota  Valley  Railroad  Company.  This  company, 
capitalized  at  $-iOO,000  and  incorporated  by  the  Legislature  of 
1864,  took  over  the  "rights,  privileges,  property,  franchise  and 
interests"  of  the  Southern  Minnesota  Railroad  Company. 

The  Minnesota  Valley  Company,  upsetting  all  precedent,  began 
to  lay  track.  In  five  years  it  had  completed  a  railroad  to  St.  James, 
a  hundred  and  twenty-two  miles  from  St.  Paul. 

The  men  who  took  over  the  direction  of  the  new  corporation  had 
no  more  experience  with  railways  than  anybody  else  in  Minnesota, 
but  they  had  ideas  and  energy.*  They  started  work  at  once  and  for 
the  first  year  had  hard  going. 

*  At  the  first  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Directors  held  in  St.  Paul,  March  16, 
1864,  Horace  Thompson  was  elected  president;  John  J.  Porter,  vice-president; 
D.  W.  Ingersoll,  treasurer;  Alexander  Johnston  (not  to  he  confused  with  Alex 
Johnson),  secretary.  At  a  subsequent  meeting  that  year  Ellas  F.  Drake  became 
president;  John  L.  Merriam,  vice-president;  Horace  Thompson,  treasurer;  and 
Alexander  Johnston,  secretary. 


108  NOHTHWEST     TERRITORY 

Wooden  bridges  and  culverts  built  in  the  days  of  long  hopes  and 
short  money  had  to  be  replaced.  Grades  had  to  be  reduced,  and  long 
stretches  of  the  right  of  way  had  to  be  relocated. 

Materials  and  equipment  were  brought  by  barge  to  Credit  Land- 
ing (now  Savage)  on  the  IMinnesota  River,  and  tracklaying  was 
started  in  the  direction  of  Shakopce.  Despite  handicaps,  6  miles  of 
steel  had  been  put  down  by  the  middle  of  1865.  This  was  6  miles 
more  than  most  folks  in  that  end  of  the  world  had  ever  lioped  for. 

The  old  menace  of  tight  money  stalked  the  Minnesota  Valley  Rail- 
road as  it  had  the  Southern  Minnesota,  although  perhaps  not  so 
energetically.  When  track  laying  progressed  ahead  of  schedule,  and 
the  end  of  the  rail  moved  farther  and  farther  away  from  the  base 
at  Credit  Landing,  the  engineers  demanded  a  locomotive  and  cars 
to  liaul  supplies. 

Rut  there  wasn't  enough  money  in  the  company  treasury  to  buy 
a  locomotive.  This  was  probably  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  trans- 
portation in  iVIinnesota  when  a  railroad  company  had  ever  needed 
a  locomotive. 

In  the  emergency,  J.  E.  and  Horace  Thompson,  H.  H.  Siblej-, 
and  A.  H.  Wilder  loaned  the  money  for  the  purchase.  E.  F.  Drake 
toured  the  growing  junkyards  of  eastern  railroads  and  sent  back  a 
badly  worn  engine,  two  boxcars,  and  five  flatcars  from  Ohio.  This 
assortment  arrived  at  Credit  Landing  by  barge  in  1865.*  The  en- 
gine, which  may  or  may  not  have  been  the  first  to  go  into  active 
service  in  the  state,  was  called  the  Mankato. 

The  Mankato  saved  a  lot  of  time  in  the  construction  work,  but  it 
doesn't  seem  to  have  been  an  unmixed  blessing.  It  had  a  habit  of 
climbing  the  rails  and  was  hard  to  keep  on  the  track.  Once  off,  it  had 
to  be  levered  back  with  tree  trunks  in  the  hands  of  thirty  or  forty 
gandy  dancers  (track  levelers).  Getting  water  into  it  was  a  problem 
that  required  ingenuity.  A  wooden  trough  was  rigged  out  over  the 
track  from  a  spring  in  the  sidehills  near  the  landing,  and  here  each 
night  the  engine  was  brought  for  a  filling. 

If  it  ran  out  of  water  during  the  day,  it  had  to  be  hauled  back  to 
the  spring  by  horsepower  for  enough  of  a  filling  for  its  immediate 
job.  However,  its  unsung  engineer  and  firemen  learned  all  about  its 

*  Messer,  Alanson,  An  Account,  of  Railroading  in  the  Minnesota  Valley,  C  St 
P  M  &  O  Railroad  Museum,  St.  Paul,  Minnesota. 


THE     RAILS      COME      TO      MINNESOTA  109 

idiosyncrasies  and  contrived  to  keep  it  in  service  till  the  rails  reached 
Shakopee  and  it  was  retired. 

With  the  aid  of  another  odd  engine  (a  combination  locomotive 
and  baggage  car)  bought  by  Drake  during  the  construction  period, 
interurban  service  was  established  between  the  Twin  Cities  in  the 
winter  of  1866.  The  fare  was  fifty  cents  one  way. 

That  same  year  the  tracks  were  extended  to  Belle  Plaine,  and  the 
old  Mankato  was  put  back  into  service  between  that  point  and  West 
St.  Paul. 

In  the  first  year  of  its  operation  the  Belle  Plaine  section  of  the 
road  did  an  amazing  business.  Shipping  tickets  preserved  in  the 
C  St  P  M  &  O  Railroad  Museum  in  St.  Paul  show  that  it  hauled  222,- 
575  barrels  of  flour,  220,180  bushels  of  wheat,  5,T01.,900  feet  of 
lumber,  900  cords  of  wood,  96,000  hoop  poles  and  staves,  312  tons 
of  farm  products,  951  tons  of  lime,  7,743  tons  of  general  merchan- 
dise, 3,500  tons  construction  materials,  45  tons  of  coal,  150  tons 
of  hides,  140  tons  of  livestock,  150  tons  of  bran  and  shorts,  6  tons 
of  brick,  1  ton  of  game,  and  83,315  passengers. 

In  1867  General  J.  W.  Bishop  was  apjDointed  chief  engineer,  and 
under  his  direction  the  road  was  pushed  into  Mankato  in  1868.  A 
year  later,  renamed  the  St.  Paul  and  Sioux  City  Railroad,  it  was 
pushing  on  toward  the  junction  of  the  Big  Sioux  and  Missouri 
rivers. 

So  finally  the  railroad  came  to  the  great  Northwest  Territory, 
and  the  last  populous  wilderness  in  the  United  States  began  to  break 
up.  The  metamorphosis  somehow  has  failed  to  attract  the  attention 
of  historians  who  lived  through  it,  yet  it  was  one  of  the  most  amaz- 
ing episodes  in  the  making  of  the  West. 

When  the  first  teapot  locomotive  came  chugging  into  the  Minne- 
sota Valley  it  wasn't  yesterday  that  this  region  had  been  Indian 
country,  the  bitter  adversary  of  the  pioneer — it  was  today — right 
now.  Along  the  right  of  way  in  the  areas  where  there  were  no  forests, 
men  and  women  still  lived  as  they  had  lived  when  they  groped  their 
way  up  the  creeks  in  the  forties.  They  stood  in  the  doorways  of  sod 
shanties  to  watch  the  passing  of  the  train. 

Tomorrow,  and  literally  tomorrow,  all  that  began  to  change.  For 
civilization  had  long  ago  come  to  these  hinterlands  in  hope  if  not  in 
outward  signs.   These  people  of  the  backwoods   and  prairies  liad 


110  NORTH  WE8TTERRIT0RY 

sulTurL'tl  liardsliip  in  tlie  midst  of  great  potential  wealth  and  comfort 
merely  because  they  knew  that  one  day  a  locomotive  with  a  pot  stack 
would  come  alonj^  and  reverse  their  luck. 

Presently  finished  boards  began  to  conic  into  the  western  com- 
munities from  mills  actually  no  great  distance  away.  What  is  more 
worthy  of  note,  there  came  also  iron  nails — kegs  of  them.  And  it  is 
a  commentary  on  the  business  of  living  in  a  great  state  without  a 
railroad  that  nails  in  many  districts  rated  not  onlj'  as  a  luxury  but 
as  a  great  novelty.  Most  of  the  houses — where  there  were  houses 
not  made  of  sod — and  half  the  mills  had  been  put  together  with 
wooden  pegs. 

Nails  and  boards  came  in,  and  frame  houses  went  up — and  barns 
and  granaries.  In  a  matter  of  weeks,  harvesting  machines  and  auto- 
matic threshers  began  to  roll  down  the  ramps  from  the  station  plat- 
forms. The  sewing  machine  came  into  the  farm  kitchen.  So  did  fairly 
efficient  wood  and  coal  ranges  and  lightweight  pots  and  pans.  Even 
more  miraculously  came  artificial  light  in  the  form  of  kerosene  lan- 
terns and  lamps  with  a  fuel  no  longer  considered  dangerously  ex- 
plosive. 

Books  came  in,  and  toys  for  the  children,  and  odds  and  ends  of 
finery  for  the  women  of  the  house.  You  still  had  to  put  in  a  lot  of 
time  looking  after  the  stock  and  plowing  and  harrowing  and  reap- 
ing and  threshing.  But  it  no  longer  took  so  much  effort.  There  was 
comfortable  furniture  in  the  house.  It  was  a  pleasure  at  night  just 
to  come  in  from  the  field  and  sit  down  and  relax.  But  if  you  wanted 
to  travel  around — well,  there  was  opportunity  for  that,  too.  The 
world  was  right  at  your  door.  You  could  catch  a  train  in  the  morn- 
ing, take  a  look  at  the  sights  in  St.  Paul,  and  be  home  again  in  time 
for  supper. 

Life  was  getting  just  too  easy  and  luxurious — and  all  because 
they'd  opened  a  gate  and  let  you  get  back  in  touch  with  the  outside 
world  you'd  always  been  hearing  so  much  about. 

This  railroad  thing  had  certainly  been  worth  waiting  for. 


J/ art 


your 


THE    WAR    YEARS 


i 

1 


Cl 


CIVIL     WAR 


On  the  evening  of  Saturday,  April  13,  1861,  Morse's  telegraph 
announced  to  the  nation  that  Fort  Sumter  had  been  bombarded ;  the 
first  shot  of  the  Civil  War  had  been  fired!  The  war  clouds  had  been 
gathering  for  years,  and  had  turned  black  and  threatening  with  the 
secession  of  South  Carolina  on  December  20,  1860.  As  far  back  as 
the  evening  of  January  5,  1861,  Chicago  citizens  had  affirmed  their 
faith  in  their  fellow  Illinoisan,  President-elect  Abraham  Lincoln,  at 
a  mass  meeting  held  in  Bryan  Hall  and  attended  by  men  of  all  creeds, 
political  faiths,  and  national  origins.  The  presiding  officer  was  Sam- 
uel S.  Hayes,  a  Democrat.  Among  the  patriotic  resolutions  offered 
and  accepted  was  this : 

Resolved :  That  in  view  of  what  is  now  transpiring  in  South  Carolina 
and  other  of  the  Southern  States  and  of  the  threats  to  prevent  the  inaugu- 
ration of  a  President  constitutionally  elected,  it  is  incumbent  upon  the 
loyal  people  of  the  United  States  to  be  prepared  to  render  all  the  aid, 
military  and  otherwise,  to  the  enforcement  of  the  Federal  laws  which 
may  be  necessary  when  thereunto  constitutionally  required. 

We  have  neither  compromise  nor  concession  to  offer  disunionists  ar- 
rayed in  open  rebellion  to  the  Government,  or  their  aids  and  abettors. 

The  story  of  Sunday,  April  14 — after  the  news  of  Fort  Sumter 
had  become  known  to  all — is  feelingly  told  by  A.  T.  Andreas  in  his 
History  of  Chicago. 

It  was  one  of  those  beautiful,  cloudless  spring  days.  In  the  sweet 
April  air  floated  the  old  flag  from  spire  and  balcony,  office  and  warehouse, 
ship's  mast  and  dwelling.  From  early  morning  till  late  at  night  the  streets 
were  thronged  with  an  eager,  indignant,  troubled  people — all  swayed 
by  a  common  feeling.  The  talk  was  only  of  the  indignity  done  the  flag 

113 


THE      WAR      YEARS 


of  the  country,  tiie  mctssity  of  jircscrving  its  honor  as  a  priceless  heri- 
tage. Governor  Yates  was  in  the  city  with  Iicadquarters  at  the  Tremont 
House.  Even  thus  early  he  liad  been  tendered  the  services  of  the  Chicago 
military  companies.  The  Germans,  the  Irish,  the  Hungarians  and  tlic 
Bohemians  had  congregated  in  their  halls  and  given  full  expression  to 
that  patriotism  and  zeal  for  their  adopted  country  which  they  later 
proved  by  heroic  conduct  on  the  battlefield.  Dr.  Patton,  at  the  first  Con- 
gregational Church,  told  his  people  that  the  crisis  had  arrived  "in  which 
every  Christian  might  rise  from  his  knees  and  shoulder  his  rifle."  On 
Monday,  the  sixteenth.  Governor  Yates  called  out  the  state  militia. 

On  that  same  epochal  Sunday  morning  a  round-shouldered, 
bearded,  shabby,  medium-sized  man  approaching  forty — most  un- 
military  in  appearance — stood  in  a  field  just  outside  the  city  of 
Galena  barking  commands  at  a  hundred  men  and  boys.  The  Galena 
company  had  been  raised  a  month  before  and  had  elected  its  officers 
— but  tlie  man  who  was  teaching  them  drill  was  not  of  their  number. 

He  had  made  application  for  a  commission  as  far  back  as  the  day 
after  tjie  South  Carolina  rebel  convention — both  to  the  War  De- 
partment in  Washington  and  to  the  Illinois  State  jMilitia  Board. 
He  had  received  no  replies  to  his  letters  and  he  didn't  know  whether 
to  blame  this  silence  on  iiis  record  or  on  stress  of  business ;  within 
himself  he  thought  it  was  the  record — but  he  hoped  against  hope. 
Meantime,  he  clerked  in  his  father's  leather  store,  drilled  his  fellow 
citizens  in  the  evenings,  on  Saturday  afternoons,  and  on  Sundays. 
He  was  turning  them  into  good  soldiers  because,  although  Ulysses 
Grant  never  looked  like  a  soldier,  he  was  to  become  one  of  the  great- 
est of  all  time. 

That  previous  record  I  Graduation  from  West  Point ;  awards  and 
promotion  for  heroism  in  the  Mexican  War;  then  lonely  military 
posts  and  an  inclination  to  the  bottle;  finally,  a  request  that  he  re- 
sign. Now,  with  war  looming,  surely  thej'  needed  West  Pointers, 
officers  with  active  service  records.  Grant,  a  civilian,  drilled  soldiers, 
and  the  bitterness  within  him  grew  and  gi'ew.  Finally  the  Galena 
company  was  called  to  camp — without  its  drillmaster.  An  inspecting 
officer,  remarking  on  its  excellence,  wanted  to  know  who  had  trained 
it,  was  told,  made  some  inquiries,  and  reported  to  the  governor. 
Yates  sent  for  the  West  Pointer  only  to  be  told  that  he  had  been 
hanging  around  for  days  seeking  an  audience. 


CIVIL      WAR 


The  Twenty-first  Illinois  Infantry  had  gathered  to  itself  a  repu- 
tation for  roughness,  toughness,  and  insubordination — even  this 
early  in  the  great  game.  Its  colonel  had  resigned ;  he  couldn't  handle 
his  men  and  said  so.  Ulysses  Grant  was  offered  the  job,  took  it,  and 
went  on  and  up  from  there.  Illinois  sent  2-l<4,496  of  her  sons  into  the 
Union  Army;  of  these  34,834  made  the  supreme  sacrifice — 5,874 
being  killed  in  battle,  4,020  dying  of  wounds,  22,786  succumbing  to 
disease,  and  2,154  passing  on  from  other  causes. 

In  the  cash  shortage  sense  the  panic  of  1857  still  had  its  brand  on 
the  railroads  of  the  country  when  the  Civil  War  broke  out.  The 
conflict  itself  put  some  of  the  carriers  back  on  their  feet — perhaps 
back  on  their  tracks  would  be  a  better  expression — while  others  sank 
further  into  the  slough  of  despond,  and  still  others  went  into  com- 
plete eclipse. 

The  railroad  setup  in  the  eastern  tier  of  the  Southern  states  was 
fragmentary  at  the  start  of  hostilities,  and  there  was  neither  time, 
money,  nor  labor  with  which  to  patch  it  together.  In  the  southwest- 
ern battles  for  control  of  the  Mississippi,  what  railroad  systems 
there  were  in  Texas,  Arkansas,  and  southern  Missouri  were  com- 
pletely wrecked  by  both  armies ;  track  and  equipment  was  either 
carried  away  by  the  opposing  armies  for  use  elsewhere  or  was  de- 
stroyed when  it  was  seen  that  it  could  no  longer  be  held. 

The  Northern  forces  had  better  raih'oad  men  than  had  those  of 
the  South.  Also,  the  former  were  in  better  position  to  use  their 
facilities.  With  the  Gulf  route  closed  it  became  necessary  to  ship  all 
food  products  by  rail.  Chicago  became  the  great  grain  and  meat 
depot — anticipating  its  ultimate  destiny  by  several  years ;  and  the 
Galena  and  Chicago  Union  and  the  Chicago  and  North  Western 
came  into  their  own.  Most  of  the  railroads  west  of  the  Mississippi 
were  still  fragmentary  and  of  little  help.  The  closing  of  the  river 
made  the  functioning  roads  an  absolute  necessity ;  war  prices  made 
the  farmers  in  the  favored  territories  more  anxious  than  ever  to 
sow  and  to  reap.  Along  the  tracks  of  the  Galena  and  the  Chicago 
and  North  Western  there  was  little  fear  of  military  obstruction. 

In  the  presidential  campaign  of  1856  the  building  of  a  Pacific 
railroad  had  been  a  plank  in  the  platform  of  both  Democrats  and 
Republicans.  In  his  first  message  to  Congress,  the  Democratic  vie- 


no  TIIEWARYEARS 

tor,  JiiiiKs  Bucliiuian,  rccoiiiniLnded  the  project.  Tlie  Senate  was 
willing,  but  the  House,  dominated  by  eastern  financial  interests, 
acted  slowly;  the  right  word  is  "stalled."  This  inaction  lasted 
through  the  Buchanan  term.  In  the  first  session  after  Lincoln's  elec- 
tion— his  message  had  also  approved  the  measure — the  necessary 
legislation  seemed  about  to  pass  when  the  South  seceded  from  the 
Union.  All  opposition  disappeared,  and  as  soon  as  pressing  military 
needs  had  been  taken  care  of  the  Homestead  Act  was  passed,  giving 
the  basis  for  the  final  partitioning  of  the  public  domain.  With  the 
encouragement  given  to  the  building  of  the  transcontinental  rail- 
roads the  stage  was  set  for  the  final  conquest  of  the  West.* 

The  Union  Pacific  was  chartered  July  1,  1862 — the  first  Ameri- 
can railroad  begun  with  the  aid  of  Federal  cash.  It  was  to  build  from 
the  center  of  Nebraska  to  the  eastern  boundary  of  Nevada.  The  Cen- 
tral Pacific,  similarly  endowed,  was  to  complete  the  line  from  the 
Pacific  coast.  Government  bonds  were  to  be  loaned  at  the  rate  of 
sixteen  thousand  dollars  per  mile  in  the  plains  country,  thirty-two 
thousand  in  the  foothills,  and  forty-eight  thousand  in  the  mountains. 
The  stock  was  to  be  issued  in  thousand-dollar  shares,  of  which  there 
were  to  be  100,000.  No  person  was  to  hold  more  than  200  shares; 
the  organization  of  the  company  and  the  composition  of  the  Board 
of  Directors  was  to  have  governmental  approval.  In  view  of  these 
conditions,  it  is  significant  that  at  the  first  meeting  in  September, 
1862,  William  Butler  Ogden  was  elected  president;  he  was  also,  as 
has  been  told,  president  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western. 

Subscriptions  were  slow  in  coming  in ;  thousand-dollar  bonds  were 
a  trifle  large  for  the  average  investor  of  that  day,  and  it  was  plain 
that  such  a  huge  undertaking  would  be  years  in  getting  round  to 
dividends.  Ogden  worked  hard  on  the  project,  but  at  the  end  of  eight 
months  he  was  compelled  to  resign  in  order  to  give  his  full  time  to 
the  approaching  merger  of  the  North  Western  with  the  Galena. 
It  was  well  he  did  so,  for  it  took  seven  weary  years  and  major  scan- 
dals (maybe  he  smellcd  these  from  afar)  reaching  into  the  halls  of 
Congress  before  the  Union  Pacific  and  the  Central  Pacific  joined 
their  rails  at  Promontory  Point,  Utah,  on  May  10,  1869.  But  Will 

*  Riopel,  Robert  F,.,  The  Story  of  the  Western  Railroads,  The  Macmillan  Com- 
pany, New  York,  192G. 


CIVIL     WAR  117 

Ogden  served  the  Union  Pacific  well,  for  much  of  the  equipment, 
ties,  and  rails  were  hauled  by  his  North  Western  to  Council  Bluffs 
and  thence  by  rail  ferry  across  the  river  to  the  Union  Pacific  termi- 
nus in  Omaha. 

The  North  Western  performed  another  pioneer  service  at  this 
time  in  carrying  the  first  railway  post-office  car. 

A  few  weeks  after  he  assumed  office.  President  Lincoln  appointed 
John  L.  Scripps,  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the  Chicago  Tribune, 
postmaster  at  Chicago.  Scripps  knew  no  more  about  the  duties  of 
a  postmaster  than  do  many  postmasters  of  today.  He  had,  however, 
an  assistant  postmaster,  George  B.  Armstrong,  who  had  held  that 
position  for  several  years  and  who  really  understood  the  business. 

The  new  officials  of  the  department  had  hardly  become  settled  in 
their  positions  when  the  Civil  War  came.  In  the  glamour  of  raising 
and  equipping  armies  and  sending  them  to  the  field,  many  achieve- 
ments as  necessary  and  essential  as  arms  and  ammunition  and  drill 
do  not  appear.  Without  food,  shelter,  clothing,  and  transportation, 
an  army,  like  an  individual,  must  succumb.  But  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant elements  in  keeping  up  the  morale  of  an  army  made  up  of 
Americans  has  always  been  and  will  always  be  in  the  mails.  Letters 
from  home,  from  parents,  from  brothers  and  sisters,  wives  and 
sweethearts  are  a  constant  means  of  encouragement  to  the  soldier, 
and  nerve  him  to  heroic  deeds  ;  while  writing  letters  home  is  the  great- 
est of  consolations. 

As  a  recognition  of  his  services  in  the  recent  election.  President 
Lincoln  had  made  David  T.  Linnegar  postmaster  at  Cairo,  his  home 
city.  He  knew  no  more  of  the  duties  of  the  office  than  did  Scripps  and 
he  had  no  Armstrong  to  teach  him.  But  the  office  was  small,  and  the 
business  light.  Suddenly,  within  forty-eight  hours,  the  Cairo  post 
office,  one  of  the  smallest  in  the  United  States,  became  one  of  the 
greatest.  Mailbags  were  thrown  in  by  the  thousand,  filling  up  the 
rooms,  projecting  out  of  the  windows,  and  piling  up  on  the  plat- 
forms. The  western  army  of  the  LTnion  had  come  to  occupy  Cairo  and 
the  region  round  about.  This  was  in  the  spring  of  1862. 

Linnegar,  entirely  bewildered,  telegraphed  the  postmaster  general 
at  Washington  for  help.  George  B.  Armstrong  was  sent  down.  The 


118  THEWARYEAHS 

first  thing  to  do  was  to  provide  room  in  wlildi  to  work,  and  then  to 
improvise  sorting  and  distributing  tables,  racks,  and  cases,  so  that 
men  could  work  efficiently.  This  was  done  in  an  incredibly  short  time. 
The  bags  were  opened,  the  mail  carefully  sorted,  the  bags  refilled 
and  tagged  for  the  command,  the  divisions,  the  brigades,  or  regi- 
ments, or  the  post  office  at  home.  These  bags  were  sent  out  to  the 
army  and  away  upon  the  railways  until  the  congestion  was  relieved. 
The  great  piles  of  mailbags  grew  less  and  less  until  they  disappeared 
altogether,  and  the  clerks  had  tlien  only  to  take  care  of  the  mail  as 
it  came  in  upon  the  trains  and  from  the  army.  Soon,  w^ith  the  extra 
number  of  clerks  allowed  him,  Postmaster  Linnegar  was  able  to  con- 
duct the  business  satisfactorily,  and  Armstrong  returned  to  his 
duties  in  Chicago. 

Ill  the  summer  of  1864,  Armstrong,  having  pored  for  two  years 
ovvv  his  plan  for  "a  post  office  on  wheels"  wrote  the  postmaster 
general : 

Letters  deposited  in  a  post  office  at  tlie  latest  moment  of  the  departure 
of  the  mail  from  the  office  for  near  or  distant  places  should  travel  with 
the  same  uninterru))ted  speed  and  certainty  as  passengers  to  their  places 
of  destination.  .  .  .  Passengers  travelling  over  railroad  routes  generally 
reach  a  given  point  in  advance  of  letters,  when  to  that  given  point  letters 
must  pass,  under  the  present  system,  through  a  distributing  office,  and 
when  letters  are  subject  to  a  distributing  process  in  more  than  one  dis- 
tributing office  as  is  largely  the  case  now,  the  tardiness  of  a  letter's  prog- 
ress toward  its  place  of  destination  is  proportionately  increased.  But  a 
general  system  of  railway  distribution  obviates  this  difficulty.  The  work 
being  done  while  the  cars  are  in  motion  and  transfers  of  mails  from  route 
to  route  and  for  local  delivery  on  the  way,  as  they  are  reached,  letters 
attain  the  same  celerity  in  transit  as  persons  making  direct  connections. 

Postmaster  General  Montgomery  Blair  replied: 

Post  Office  Department 
July  1st,  1864. 
Sir:  You  are  authorized  to  test  by  actual  experiment,  upon  such  rail- 
road route,  or  routes,  as  you  may  select  at  Chicago,  the  plans  proposed 
by  you  for  simplifying  the  mail  service.  You  will  arrange  with  railroad 
companies  to  furnish  suitable  cars  for  travelling  post  offices ;  designate 
head   offices   with  their  dependent  offices;  prepare   forms   of  blanks  and 


CIVIL      WAR  119 

instructions  for  all  such  offices,  and  those  on  the  railroad  not  head  offices, 
also  for  clerks  of  travelling  post  offices. 

To  aid  you  in  this  work,  you  may  select  some  suitable  route  agent  whose 
place  can  be  supplied  with  a  substitute,  at  the  expense  of  the  department. 

When  your  arrangements  are  complete,  you  will  report  them  in  full. 

The  first  railway  post  office  in  the  United  States  was  established 
by  Armstrong  under  the  above  instructions  on  August  28,  1864,  on 
the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway.  It  ran  between  Chicago, 
Illinois,  and  Clinton,  Iowa,  in  a  compartment  car.  The  first  com- 
plete railway  post-office  cars  were  built  by  the  same  railway  from 
plans  furnished  bj'  Armstrong  in  1867,  and  placed  in  service  between 
Boone  and  Council  Bluffs,  Iowa.  The  overland  mail  to  the  Pacific 
coast  then  went  by  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway,  upon 
which  those  towns  were  situated,  and  these  cars  were  run  to  pro- 
vide for  that  mail  to  be  immediately  despatched  westward  upon  its 
arrival  at  the  Missouri  River,  instead  of  lying  over  at  a  distributing 
post  office  as  had  been  necessary  up  to  that  time.  By  this  arrange- 
ment mails  were  ascending  the  Rocky  Mountains,  500  miles  west,  at 
a  time  when  they  otherwise  would  have  been  leaving  Omaha. 

Under  tlie  old  route  agent  system  one  agent  in  a  narrow  compart- 
ment of  a  car  received  and  distributed  the  mail  from  town  to  town, 
delivering  such  as  he  received  for  local  offices  and  pouching  the  re- 
mainder on  his  terminal  office.  If  a  distributing  office  intervened,  the 
locked  pouches  were  despatched,  like  so  much  dead  freight,  by  star 
routes  and  passenger  trains,  sometimes  to  be  delayed  a  day  and 
sometimes  several  days,  to  be  sorted  or  redistributed  and  pouched 
for  a  further  journey. 

Under  the  new  system  created  by  Armstrong,  important  trains 
on  trunk  lines  were  equipped  with  full  postal  cars  manned  by  crews 
of  clerks,  who  opened  the  locked  pouches  and  tie  sacks  and  distrib- 
uted all  the  mail  while  the  train  was  speeding  on  its  way,  besides 
receiving  and  delivering  mail  at  the  towns  through  which  the  train 
passed.  Upon  its  arrival  at  the  end  of  the  run,  the  mail,  properly 
sorted  and  pouched,  was  delivered  without  delay  to  a  connecting 
line  or  lines  equipped  with  similar  cars,  provided  with  their  comple- 
ment of  clerks,  to  be  again  distributed,  with  other  mail  received, 
while  the  train  thundered  on  to  its  destination. 


120  THEWARYEARS 

This  was  actually-  accomplisliLcl  witliin  five  years  from  the  time 
the  postmaster  general  authorized  Armstrong  to  "test  by  actual 
experiment"  the  plans  he  had  proposed.  A  year  after  their  inception 
he  was  brought  to  Washington  and  placed  in  charge  of  a  new  de- 
partment, the  Railway  Mail  Service.* 

*  Carr,  Clark  E.,  The  Railwai/  Mail  Service,  A.  C.  McClurg  &  Company,  Chi- 
cago, 1902. 


Cl 


lapter    ^4- 

CONSOLIDATION 


On  June  2,  1864,  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  and  the  Chicago 
and  North  AYcstern  were  consohdated.  William  H.  Brown  was  presi- 
dent of  the  Galena,  although  in  the  several  days  of  final  negotiation, 
John  Bice  Turner  actually  functioned  as  head  of  the  Galena  with 
the  title  of  chairman  of  the  managing  committee.  Turner  had  been 
president  of  the  Galena  from  1851 — when  Ogden  resigned — until 
1859,  when  he  was  succeeded  by  Walter  Newberry  who,  in  1862,  was 
followed  by  William  H.  Brown.  But  Turner  remained  on  the  Board 
of  Directors  and  took  his  seat  on  the  North  Western  Board  at  the 
consolidation.  The  first  president  of  the  expanded  North  Western 
was  Will  Ogden.  The  consolidation  stirred  the  people  of  the  country, 
as  Historian  W.  H.  Stennett  put  it,  "from  the  Atlantic  to  the  slopes 
of  the  Missouri."  It  was  the  first  important  consolidation  in  the 
country's  railroad  history.  Opinions  were  varied,  but  the  majority 
thought  seemed  to  agree  with  the  explanatory  statement  of  the  new 
Board  of  Directors  headed  by  President  Ogden : 

Among  the  reasons  which  influenced  those  who,  on  account  of  their 
large  interests  in  these  roads,  have  given  more  particular  attention  to  the 
subject  and  advised  this  course,  are  the  following:  Much  of  the  territory 
traversed  by  these  roads  was  so  situated  as  to  induce  injurious  competi- 
tion between  them.  The  union  of  both  gives  greater  strength  and  power, 
favoring  more  advantageous  and  extended  connections,  and  better  relations 
with  other  railroads  built  and  to  be  built,  and  will  aid  to  prevent  the  con- 
struction of  such  roads  as  would  only  serve  to  create  injurious  competi- 
tion, without  any  adequate  increase  of  the  aggregate  earnings  of  the  roads 
competing.  Decided  economj',  material  reduction  of  expenses,  and  in- 
creased and  more  profitable  service  of  engines  and  cars  will  also  be  the 
result  of  cooperation  in  the  place  of  competition,  and  of  one  management 

121 


122  THEWARYEARS 

of  botli  roads.  TIic  basis  and  terms  of  tliis  consolidation  are  substantially 
as  follows:  For  each  share  of  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  Railroad  Com- 
pany's stock  the  holder  will  receive  one  share  of  the  preferred  and  one 
share  of  the  common  stock  of  the  consolidated  Chicago  and  North  West- 
ern Railway  Company,  and  $3  in  money.  The  preferred  stock  of  this 
companj'  to  be  issued  in  exchange  for  the  stock  of  the  Galena  company 
is  entitled  to  preferences  to  the  aggregate  extent  of  10  per  cent  in  the 
dividends  which  may  be  declared  in  any  one  year,  out  of  the  net  earnings 
in  such  year,  in  the  manner  following,  to  wit:  First,  to  a  preference  of  7 
per  cent;  and  after,  dividends  of  7  per  cent  on  the  common  stock;  then, 
secondly,  to  a  further  preference  of  3  per  cent;  after,  a  further  dividend 
of  3  per  cent  on  the  common  stock;  both  classes  of  stock  shall  be  entitled 
to  equal  rates  per  share  in  any  further  dividends. 

The  principal  reason  for  dropping  the  pioneer  name  of  Galena  and 
Chicago  Union  Railroad  Company  in  the  consolidation  will  be  apparent 
when  it  is  observed  that  no  portion  of  either  of  the  consolidated  roads 
touches  Galena ;  and  to  retain  the  name  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company  involves  no  change  of  books  or  blanks,  and  is  suffi- 
ciently comprehensive  to  include  the  large  territory  penetrated  by  the 
united  roads. 

Tlie  contributions  by  eacli  railroad  to  the  consolidation  were  as 

follows : 

As  TO  THE  Galena  Company 

Miles 

1.  The  original  Galena  and  Chicago  line,  extending  from  Chicago  to  Free- 
port ^ -1 

2.  The  Dixon  Air  Line,  extending  from  the  Junction,  30  miles  west  of 
Chicago,  due  west,  through  Geneva  to  Dixon,  and  to  Fulton  on  the 
Mississippi  River;  and  to  east  end  of  bridge  over  the  Mississippi,  nearly 
two  miles  below  Fulton 1"8 

3.  The  Beloit  branch,  from  Belvidere  to  Beloit,  about 21 

i.  The  St.  Charles  Air  Line,  extending  to  Harlem,  about 9 

5.  The  Elgin  and  State  Line  Railroad,  extending  from  Elgin  north  to 

Richmond,  about "^^ 

The  branch  from  the  old  line  to  Elgin,  more  than 2 

Making  in  all -"■* 

The  double  track  from  Chicago  to  Turner  Junction  (30  miles) 
is  counted  as  only  30  miles  in  the  preceding  statement,  the  second 
track  not  being  taken  into  account. 


CONSOLIDATION  123 

Miles 
In  addition  it  also  contributed  to  the  consolidated  corporation  the  per- 
petual lease  of  the  Chicago,  Iowa  and  Nebraska  Railroad,  about  (now 

built) S2 

Also,  of  the  Cedar  Rapids  and  Missouri  River  Railroad Hi 

Also,  perpetual  lease  of  tlie  Beloit  and  Madison  Railroad 47 

Making  a  total  of  leajsed  roads  operated  by  tlie  said  Galena  Company 
at  the  time  of  consolidation  equal  to Hoi 

Total  number  of  miles  owned  by  the  Galena  Company  at  the  time  of  con- 
solidation      '29-1 

Total  number  of  mUes  of  leased  roads  operated  by  the  Galena  Company 
at  the  time  of  the  consolidation ^'27 

Add  to  this  the  extension  of  Hi  miles  of  leased  road  from  Nevaila  to  Boones- 
boro,  since  consolidation 24 

Total 545 

As  TO  THE  North  Westehx  Compaxt 

Miles 

1.  Its  main  line,  extending  from  Chicago,  via  Janesville,  to  Green  Bay.  .  . .    242 

2.  Its  "Kenosha  division"  extendmg  from  the  town  of  Kenosha  to  its 
junction  at  Rockford  with  the  old  Galena  road 73 

Makmg  a  total  length  of  railroad  owned  by  Chicago  and  North  West- 
ern Railway  at  the  time  of  consolidation 315 

Making  a  total  length  of  roads  owned  and  leased  by  both  companies 
at  the  time  of  consolidation 8G0 

As  a  footnote  to  consolidation,  we  have  Joliii  I.  Blair  of  Blairs- 
town,  New  JerseVj  whose  manipulation  of  railroads  west  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi brought  a  number  of  connecting  lines  into  the  North  West- 
ern system. 

Blair  was  a  planner  of  railroads,  a  railroad  stock  speculator,  a 
railroad  bridgebuilder.  Though  appearing  to  act  independently,  he 
was  seemingly  high  in  the  confidence  of  Will  Ogden  and  the  latter's 
various  associates  in  railrGad  ventures.  In  his  own  fashion  he  was  as 
amazing  a  railroad  character  as  was  Jay  Gould,  the  difference  being 
that  Blair  was  a  servitor — ruthless  as  Gould  but  employed  by  men 
who  were  acquiring  track  for  the  purpose  of  building  up  a  system 
or  systems  so  that  these  could  be  of  service  to  the  communities,  in- 


THE     WAR     VEARS 


stead  of  fretting  hold  of  railroads  onlj  for  the  purpose  of  gambling 
on  tlie  market  with  the  properties. 

As  has  been  told,  the  first  railroad  to  cross  the  state  of  Iowa  was 
the  Galena — via  its  leased  lines.  It  had  reached  the  Mississippi,  op- 
posite Clinton,  in  1855.  Blair  saw  the  immediate  need  of  a  western 
connecting  line.  He  had  his  cA'e  on  the  Lyons  and  Iowa  Central, 


The  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  Railroad  as  it  appeared  in  1864  just  before  it 
consolidated  with  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  Company  (see 
illustration  opposite). 

organized  in  1853,  and  planned  to  run  from  Lyons,  near  Clinton, 
through  Des  Aloines  to  Council  Bluffs.  This  plan  was  later  changed 
to  send  the  line  through  Cedar  Rapids. 

The  Chicago,  Iowa  and  Nebraska  Railroad  Company  was  incor- 
porated in  January,  1856.  That  company  consti-ucted  81  miles  of 
railroad  between  Clinton  and  Cedar  Rapids,  which  it  reached  in 
1859.  In  July,  1862,  Blair  leased  the  trackage  between  Clinton  and 
Cedar  Rapids  to  the  Galena,  thus  giving  the  latter  an  all-rail  route 
from  Chicago  to  Cedar  Rapids. 

The  Iowa  Central  Air-Line,  organized  in  1853,  seemed  to  have  a 
brilliant  future — that  is,  on  its  own — until  Blair  caught  up  with  it. 
Financed  at  the  start  with  local  cajiital,  it  was  going  to  run  between 


CONSOLIDATION 


125 


Cedar  Rapids  and  Council  Bluffs.  Its  local  promoters  had  "pull" 
in  Congress  and  had  reason  to  believe  they  could  get  a  land  grant. 
Their  conclusions  as  to  help  in  Washington  were  soundly  based.  A 
delegation,  sent  there  in  1856, 


returned  in  triumph  with  a  land 
grant  from  the  Mississippi 
River  to  Council  Bluffs,  which 
was  approved  by  the  State  Leg- 
islature. The  local  backers  gave 
the  delegation  a  dinner  on  its 
return — a  thoroughly  well-de- 
served honor.  And  work  started 
at  once.  Good  land — and  the 
settlers  coming  in ;  one  could 
hardly  see  where  they  could 
lose.  But  along  came  the  panic 
of  1857 — and  the  settlers  failed 
to  come  along.  Little  had  been 
done  on  the  road,  and  Blair, 
who  had  unsuccessfully  tried  to 
buy  in  at  the  start,  went  into 
action.  He  did  not  make  any 
offer  to  the  Iowa  Central  Air- 
Line  but  he  organized  the  Cedar 
Rapids  and  IMissouri  River 
Railroad  and  started  laying 
track  west  out  of  Cedar  Rapids. 
After  he  had  5  miles  of  rail 
laid  down,  Blair  appeared  be- 
fore the  Iowa  Legislature  and 
stated  his  case.  He  was  associ- 
ated with  a  line  running  from 
Chicago  to   Cedar  Rapids.   He 


Lines  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  in  1864  at  the  time  of  consoli- 
dation with  the  Galena  Road.  The  imion 
resulted  in  a  true  "north"  and  "west" 
system. 


had  plenty  of  money,  more  than  enough  to  build  on  to  Council  Bluffs, 
while  the  Iowa  Central  was  bankrupt,  and  if  railroad  progress  in 
Iowa  had  to  wait  on  its  improbable  return  to  solvency,  it  might  be 
years  before  the  state  was  bridged  across  with  track.  He  wanted  the 
transfer  of  the  land  grant — and  he  got  it. 


126  THE     WAR     YEARS 

Blair  leased  the  Cedar  llapids  and  ]\Iis.souri  to  tlie  Galena  in  Jul}', 
1862,  while  it  was  still  in  course  of  construction — which  lease  was 
taken  over  by  the  North  Western  two  years  later  at  the  time  of  the 
consolidation.  The  bridge  across  the  Mississippi  that  was  being  built 
at  the  same  time  was  completed  by  the  North  Western  in  1865.  The 
road  entered  Council  Bluffs  in  1867 — in  time  to  secure  the  contract 
for  the  hauling  of  the  majority  of  the  supplies  for  the  Union  Pacific. 
In  July,  1884,  the  North  Western  purchased  Blair's  Chicago,  Iowa 
and  Nebraska  and  his  Cedar  Rapids  and  jNIissouri  Kivcr  lines  out- 
right. 

Blair's  tactics  in  buying  into  weak  railroads  gradually  increased 
his  holdings,  and  ho  did  not  call  a  halt  at  Council  Bluii's.  He  entered 
Des  Moines  on  behalf  of  the  Noi'th  Western  by  purchase  of  the  ma- 
jority stock  of  the  Des  Moines  and  Minnesota  (later  the  Des  Moines 
and  Minneapolis).  He  built  extensions  north  and  west  from  Mis- 
souri Valley  (near  Council  Bluffs)  under  a  charter  granted  to  the 
Sioux  City  and  Pacific  Railroad  Company.  It  took  Blair  until  1868 
to  reach  Sioux  City,  and  from  there  he  built  on  to  Fremont,  Ne- 
braska. This  line  was  to  provide  a  connection  with  the  Union  Pacific 
and  had  the  help  of  a  land  grant.  Later  on  Blair  was  to  build  the 
Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Missouri  Valley  road  (a  part  of  which  was 
operated  for  a  time  by  the  Sioux  City  and  Pacific)  from  Fremont, 
Nebraska,  to  the  Wyoming  state  line,  with  extensions  into  the  Black 
Hills  of  South  Dakota  and  to  Casper,  Wyoming,  and  ultimately  into 
Omaha.  All  these  Blair  properties  were  eventually  leased  to  and 
finally  purchased  by  the  North  Western,  the  Sioux  City  and  Pacific 
property  being  taken  over  in  1901,  and  the  Fremont,  Elkhorn  and 
Missouri  Valley  in  1903. 

Two  years  after  the  consolidation  of  the  Galena  and  the  North 
Western,  the  line  obtained  control  of  Lake  Shore  service  between 
Chicago  and  Milwaukee. 

After  the  war  there  came  a  flood  of  immigration  to  the  Middle 
West  and  to  the  Northwest  from  Europe  and  from  Great  Britain. 
A  large  portion  of  the  Northern  armies  were  made  up  of  single  men 
from  Ireland,  Scotland,  and  Germany,  and  in  lesser  numbers — but 
still  impressive — from  England,  Wales,  and  France.  Very  few  of 
the  survivors  returned  to  their  native  land;  many  of  them  sent  for 


CONSOLIDATION  127 

sweethearts  and  other  members  of  their  families ;  the  response  was 
tremendous  not  only  among  those  selected  by  the  veterans  but  by 
friends  and  neighbors. 

The  Irish  poured  into  Chicago  in  even  larger  numbers  than  they 
poured  into  New  York;  an  avalanche  of  Germans  swept  into  Mil- 
waukee and  the  surrounding  portions  of  Wisconsin.  The  Scandi- 
navian peoples  were  selecting  Minnesota  as  their  happy  hunting 
ground.  As  time  went  on  many  Southerners,  sore  at  heart,  penniless, 
came  to  seek  a  more  pleasant  and  remunerative  life  on  the  almost 
virgin  acres  of  the  great  territory  and  in  the  trade  and  business 
marts  of  the  two  great  cities,  Chicago  and  Milwaukee.  Small  wonder 
that  the  prophetic  vision  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  direc- 
torate made  necessary  the  acquisition  of  a  railroad  directly  connect- 
ing the  two  great  supply  and  distribution  depots  of  the  newer  and 
wider  expansion. 

Out  of  the  Illinois  Parallel  Railroad  sprang  the  North  Western's 
present  Lake  Shore  suburban  service.  This  road  was  chartered  by 
the  state  of  Illinois  in  1851  to  run  from  Chicago  to  the  Wisconsin 
state  line.  In  1853  the  name  was  changed  to  the  Chicago  and  Mil- 
waukee Railroad,  and  tracklaying  was  completed  as  far  as  the  Wis- 
consin state  line  in  1855.  But  in  1851  the  people  of  Milwaukee  had 
a  somewhat  similar  idea — that  of  running  a  railroad  from  Milwaukee 
to  Chicago.  The  Green  Bay,  jMilwaukee  and  Chicago  Railroad  was 
chartered  by  the  state  of  Wisconsin  in  1851  and  in  1855  was  built 
south  to  the  Wisconsin  state  line.  In  1857  the  name  was  changed  to 
the  Milwaukee  and  Chicago  Railroad  Company.  Thus,  rail  trans- 
portation was  established  between  Chicago  and  Milwaukee,  but  until 
1863,  when  the  two  roads  consolidated  as  the  Chicago  and  Milwaukee 
Railway,  freight  and  passengers  alike  changed  cars  at  the  state  line. 

The  first  regular  train  service  was  inaugurated  December  19, 
1854,  between  Chicago  and  Waukegan,  and  on  January  20,  1855,  a 
"grand  inaugural  luncheon"  was  held  at  the  Dickinson  Hotel  in 
Waukegan,  attended  by  300  people  from  the  three  cities.  Captain 
Hiram  Hugunin  was  toastmaster.  Dr.  Volmy  Dyer,  described  bv 
the  Milwaukee  Sentinel  as  "that  prince  of  wits,"  delivered  an  ad- 
dress on  "Western  Railroads"  for  which  he  declared  himself  as 
peculiarly  fitted,  for  was  he  not  "the  underground  railroad  director 
for  the  region."  (Dr.  Dyer  headed  the  organization  that  cared  for 


128  THEWARYEARS 

those  slaves  who,  escaping  from  the  South,  managed  to  make  their 
waj'  to  Chicago  or  Milwaukee.)  The  Honorable  Isaac  Arnold,  Og- 
den's  personal  attorney,  responded  to  the  toast,  "the  Ladies,  God 
bless  them."  A  smattering  of  the  guests  took  the  five  o'clock  back  to 
Chicago,  arriving  tliere  at  seven,  but  the  majority  stayed  for  the 
grand  ball,  catching  the  morning  train. 

Judge  Henry  W.  Klodgctt,  who  handled  the  details  of  the  char- 
tering of  the  Chicago  and  Milwaukee  and  lobbied  the  bill  through  the 
State  Legislature,  had  the  major  part  in  bringing  about  the  consoli- 
dation of  the  Chicago  and  Milwaukee  with  the  Milwaukee  and  Chi- 
cago in  1863,  just  as  he  had  the  major  part  in  the  negotiations  that 
brought  about  the  road's  lease  by  the  North  Western,  signed  May  2, 
1806.  The  North  Western  acquired  the  Chicago  and  Milwaukee 
through  consolidation  in  1883  and  in  recognition  of  Judge  Blodgett's 
toil  and  perseverance  named  a  locomotive  after  him ;  it  is  to  be  pre- 
sumed also  that  his  fee — which  should  have  been  large  if  it  was  not 
— was  paid  without  question. 


C/u 


lanfer    -fo 

OGDEN     RETIRES 


At  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Rail- 
way held  June  4,  1868,  AVilliam  Butler  Ogden  tendered  the  Board 
his  resignation  as  president,  an  office  he  had  held  with  great  honor 
for  nine  years,  the  last  four  of  which  had  been  as  president  of  the 
company  after  consolidation  with  the  Galena.  He  was,  as  he  told 
his  pi'otesting  colleagues,  sixty-three  years  old — and  tired.  He  had 
seen  his  dream  of  a  great  northwestern  traffic  system  emanating  out 
of  Chicago  become  something  more  than  a  framework ;  the  filling  in, 
he  declared,  was  the  duty  of  young  men — but  he  promised  to  be  in 
close  touch  and  always  available  for  advice  and  consultation. 

Some  years  before,  he  had  purchased  a  country  estate  on  Ford- 
ham  Heights — then  just  outside  the  city  of  New  York — which  he 
had  named  Boscobel.  He  planned  to  sort  of  divide  his  time  between 
the  two  cities.  New  York  and  Chicago ;  in  this  suburb  of  the  former 
metropolis  he  contemplated  leisure  with  an  interest  in  art  and  music ; 
in  the  latter  city,  where  he  retained  a  full  staff  at  his  near-North 
Side  mansion,  he  planned  to  be  somewhat  more  active;  he  was  still 
a  member  of  the  boards  of  several  large  corporations  and  he  had 
a  finger  on  the  pulse  of  his  great  lumber  interests  in  Wisconsin, 
his  smelters  near  Pittsburgh. 

On  the  night  of  October  8,  1871,  Ogden  was  awakened  from  sleep 
in  his  New  York  home  by  the  arrival  of  a  telegram  which  informed 
him  that  Chicago  seemed  about  to  be  wholly  destroyed  by  fire.  Utiliz- 
ing all  the  speed  of  which  transportation  was  master  in  those  days, 
he  arrived  early  on  the  morning  of  the  tenth  in  the  still  blazing  city 
which  owed  him  so  much — and  to  which,  as  he  always  admitted,  he 
owed  aU  that  he  had  and  all  that  he  was. 

129 


THE      WAR     YEARS 


Even  today,  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  tlircc-tjuartcrs  of  a  cen- 
tury, you  can  always  get  an  argument  out  of  a  dyed-in-the-wool 
"ancestral-minded"  Chicagoan  as  to  the  origin  of  the  Great  Fire 
which  destroyed  property  valued,  in  those  days  of  reasonable  prices, 
at  more  than  $190,000,000  and  which  Inirncd  at  the  rate  of  $110,000 
per  minute ! 

As  it  was  after  the  ashes  finally  quit  smoldering,  so  it  is  today ; 
there  are  four  distinct  schools  of  thought  on  the  origin  of  the  Chi- 
cago Fire.  These  are:  one,  that  Mrs.  O'Leary,  visiting  her  cows 
after  dark,  put  a  lighted  kerosene  lamp  on  the  floor  of  the  shed, 
wliifh  lamp  was  kicked  over  by  a  noncooperative  cow;  two,  that 
O'Leary  neighbors,  celebrating  the  arrival  of  a  relative  from  the 
Old  Sod,  had  entered  the  O'Leary  barn  intent  on  stealing  enough 
milk  to  make  a  gargantuan  oyster  stew  and  an  even  larger  milk 
punch.  These  bandits  had  also  carried  a  kerosene  lamp  which  was 
kicked  over  by  a  cow,  bitterly  indignant  at  being  robbed  of  a  com- 
modity that  she  was  holding  in  trust  for  Mrs.  O'Leary;  three,  that 
a  group  of  growing  boys,  learning  to  smoke  tobacco  and  barred  from 
such  practices  by  their  parents,  had  gathered  for  a  session  with  their 
pipes  in  the  recesses  of  the  O'Leary  barn  and  had  let  live  ashes  fall 
on  a  pile  of  hay ;  four,  that  the  fire  was  the  deliberate  work  of  a 
pyromaniac  or  an  enemy  of  the  O'Learys. 

All  the  rash  of  subsequent  inquiries  and  investigations  brought 
out  but  one  incontestable  fact — that  the  fire  originated  in  the 
O'Leary  barn  and  cowshed  at  137  De  Koven  Street  on  the  near  West 
Side  a  few  doors  from  Jefferson  Street,  some  fifteen  minutes  after 
nine  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  Sunday,  October  8,  1871.  The 
O'Learys  claimed  to  have  all  been  in  bed  at  the  time;  Mrs.  O'Leary 
insisted  she  had  not  been  near  the  barn  since  early  evening  milking 
time.  At  nine-thirty,  Dennis  Sullivan,  a  passing  drayman  and  neigh- 
bor of  the  O'Learys,  saw  flames  in  the  barn ;  he  notified  the  O'Learys 
and  endeavored  unsuccessfully  to  save  the  livestock;  the  fire  was 
too  fast  for  him.  Mrs.  Catherine  McLaughlin,  who  was  giving  the 
party  for  the  newly  arrived  Irish  immigrant,  swore  that  no  person 
present  at  the  celebration  had  gone  "to  steal  milk  from  the  O'Leary 
cows."  No  small  boys  admitted  ever  having  smoked  tobacco — to  say 
nothing  of  having  smoked  that  night  in  the  barn.  In  the  circum- 
stances, and  down  the  vt'ars,  the  several  schools  of  thought  insist 


OGDEN      RETIRES  *^i 

that  in  view  of  the  fearful  sequel,  ]\Irs.  O'Leary,  Mrs.  McLaughlin 
and  her  guests,  and  the  suspected  small  boj's — that  none  of  these 
had  the  nerve  to  admit  culpability;  as  to  the  pyromaniac  or  anti- 
O'Leary  theory  nobody  was  ever  brought  forward — or  came  for- 
ward. The  charred  remnants  of  a  lamp  were  found  in  the  barn — but 
nobody  admitted  ownership. 

Like  most  communities  of  that  period,  Chicago  was  largely  built 
of  lumber.  The  preceding  summer  had  been  an  exceptionally  dry  one  ; 
thus  far  the  fall  had  been  rainless ;  the  fire  apparatus,  entirely  in- 
adequate for  such  a  conflagration,  had  been  overtaxed  but  a  few 
hours  before  by  the  destruction  of  four  blocks  lying  between  the 
river.  Van  Buren,  Clinton,  and  Adams  streets — during  which  a 
large  quantity  of  hose  had  been  destroyed  and  much  fire-fighting 
machinery  incapacitated.  Most  of  the  fii-emen  who  had  worked  twen- 
ty-four hours  on  this  blaze  were  taking  much-needed  rest  at  their 
homes  when  the  alarm  was  belatedly  sounded.  On  top  of  that,  an 
exceptionally  high  wind  was  roaring  due  north.  Ogden,  in  his  notes 
gathered  after  his  arrival  in  Chicago,  makes  particular  reference 
to  this  storm : 

The  reason  that  buildings,  men,  or  anything  did  not  withstand  the 
torrents  of  flames  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  the  fire  was  accompanied 
by  the  fiercest  tornado  of  wind  ever  known  to  blow  here,  and  it  acted  like 
a  perfect  blowpipe,  driving  the  brilliant  blaze  hundreds  of  feet  with 
so  perfect  a  combustion  that  it  consumed  the  smoke,  and  the  heat  was  so 
great  that  fireproof  buildings  sunk  before  it  almost  as  readily  as  wood. 

Tiie  Chicago  Fire  was  brought  under  control  and  its  progress 
halted  on  the  afternoon  of  October  11,  largely  through  the  efficient 
methods  of  Lieutenant  General  Philip  Sheridan,  hero  of  the  Civil 
War,  then  in  command  of  the  Department  of  the  Missouri  of  which 
Chicago  was  part.  Sheridan's  troops  laid  mines  and  blasted  out  sec- 
tions of  the  city  in  the  path  of  the  flames.  On  the  South  Side  the 
southern  limit  of  the  fire  on  Michigan  Avenue  was  Congress  Street ; 
on  Clark,  Harrison,  and  on  Wells  a  point  a  little  below  Polk.  The 
area  of  this  burned  district  was  450  acres.  Three  thousand  six  hun- 
dred buildings  were  destroj'ed,  including  1,600  stores,  28  hotels, 
and  60  manufacturing  establishments.  Twenty-one  thousand  six 
hundred  people  were  turned  out  of  their  homes. 


182  THE      WAR      YEARS 

On  tlie  North  Sitic  1,300  acres  were  burned  over;  the  total  num- 
ber of  buildings  destroyed  in  this  section  was  over  ten  thousand; 
about  70,000  people  lost  their  homes.  On  the  West  Side,  194  acres 
were  burned  over,  about  600  buildings  were  destroyed,  and  more 
than  2,500  people  rendered  homeless.  The  value  of  property  in  Chi- 
cago at  this  time  has  been  estimated  at  $575,000,000;  the  fire  de- 
stroyed approximately  one-third  of  this.  That  only  about  300  lives 
were  lost  seems  improbable.  But  people  had  time  to  flee,  though  none 
in  which  to  gather  their  possessions.*  The  losses  of  the  Chicago  and 
North  Western  amounted  to  more  than  a  million  dollars. 

A  harried  employee  nut  Will  Ogdcn  on  his  arrival  in  the  burning 
city  and  informed  him  that  his  Rush  Street  mansion  was  still  stand- 
ing; but  this  man,  who  had  not  dared  venture  north  of  the  Chicago 
River,  had  obtained  his  information  from  one  who  had  confused  Will 
Ogden's  home  with  that  of  his  brother  Mahlon  whose  house,  at  Wal- 
ton Place  and  Clark  Street  (the  present  site  of  the  Newberry  Li- 
brary), was  the  only  dwelling  place  spared  on  the  near  North  Side, 
south  of  Chicago  Avenue.  Will  Ogden's  beautiful  home  and  all  his 
treasures  were  but  a  pile  of  ashes  inside  four  broken  main  walls  when 
he  finally  got  there. 

He  volunteered  immediately  for  any  duty  and  was  appointed  a 
member  of  the  mayor's  committee;  but  before  he  had  even  begun  to 
serve,  more  bad  news  came  his  way.  His  Peshtigo  village  in  Wisconsin 
and  the  adjoining  lumber  mills  and  timber  regions  by  cruel  coin- 
cidence had  caught  fire  just  as  he  arrived  in  Chicago.  He  raced  there 
as  fast  as  disorganized  traffic  could  move  him,  to  find  mills,  village, 
and  a  great  stretch  of  timber  destroyed.  More  than  a  thousand  per- 
sons, in  contrast  to  the  loss  of  life  in  Chicago,  are  said  to  have 
perished. 

"This  is  an  act  of  God,"  Ogdcn  said  as  he  stared  at  the  ruins, 
"and  we  must  not  complain.  Both  here  and  in  Chicago  we  shall  bend 
our  backs  and  build  again." 

Ogden's  losses  in  both  fires  were  over  two  million  dollars.  He  re- 
mained in  the  region  until  the  rebuilding  of  both  Peshtigo  and  Chi- 
cago was  well  on  the  way;  then  he  returned  to  Boscobcl.  In  1872,  a 

•  Angle,  Paul,  The  Orcat  Chicago  Fire,  Valentinc-N'cwman,  Chicago,  194C. 


OGDEN      RETIRES 


133 


lonely  old  man,  he  married  for  the  first  time.  His  bride,  Miss  Mari- 
anna  Arnot,  a  charming  lady  of  mature  years,  proved  a  delightful 
and  sympathetic  companion  for  the  remaining  five  years  of  Will 
Ogden's  life.  He  passed  away  in  his  sleep  on  August  3,  1877. 


By  1870  the  railroad  was  across  the  Missouri  River  into  Nebraska  while  the 
"Omaha  Line"  (dotted  lines)  was  going  through  growing  pains  in  Minnesota 
and  Wisconsin. 

Following  Ogden's  resignation  from  the  presidency  of  the  North 
Western,  Henry  Keep  was  elected  to  succeed  him  and  held  the  office 
until  his  death,  July  11,  1869.  For  several  years  there  had  been  a 
keen,  sometimes  vicious  competition  for  supremacy — and  expansion 
— between  the  North  Western  and  the  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  St. 
Paul  Railwaj^  the  North  Western's  most  potent  rival  in  the  terri- 
tory already  covered  in  great  part  by  both  roads  and  in  the  terri- 
tory that  each  concern  eventually  hoped  to  cover.  There  were  pro- 


131  T  II  E      W  A  R     Y  E  A  n  S 

posals  of  amalgamation,  of  pro-rating,  of  purclia.se  by  one  road  of 
the  other.  Soinetiincs  there  was  exceeding  friendship  and  cooperation 
between  the  two  boards ;  at  other  times  accusations  of  varying  na- 
ture were  hurled  back  and  forth  and  a  director  of  the  Milwaukee, 
passing  a  director  of  the  North  Western,  would  look  the  other  way 
— and  vice  versa. 

But  at  the  time  of  Henry  Keep's  death,  a  lengthy  truce  had  ex- 
isted, and  Milwaukee  directors  were  serving  on  the  Board  of  the 
North  Western,  and  North  Western  directors  were  serving  on  the 
Board  of  the  Milwaukee.  And  among  the  Milwaukeeans  doing  duty 
on  the  other  side  of  the  fence  when  President  Keep  passed  away  w-as 
Alexander  jMitchcll,  the  hardheaded  Glasgow  Scot  who  had  climbed 
from  penniless  emigrant  boy  to  president  of  the  Milwaukee. 

Mitchell,  grandfather  of  the  famous  flying  general,  "Billy"  INIitch- 
ell,  managed  to  get  himself  elected  president  of  the  North  Western 
at  the  first  directors'  meeting  following  Keep's  death — September  1, 
1869.  He  was  now  president  of  two  great  competing  lines  and 
easily  the  most  formidable  figure  in  middle  western  railroad  circles. 
The  North  Western  stockholders  didn't  like  it;  the  Milwaukee 
.stockholders  probably  did.  But  enough  hell  was  raised  between  the 
date  of  Mitchell's  election  and  the  next  annual  meeting  to  unseat 
him  and  send  him  back  to  the  Milwaukee.  John  F.  Tracy  was  elected 
president  in  his  place. 

On  the  morning  of  March  1,  1872,  a  tall,  good-looking,  broad- 
shouldered  young  man  entered  Tracy's  outer  office  and  was  immedi- 
ately ushered  in  to  the  president.  Half  an  hour  later  an  office  memo 
advised  all  employees  that  Marvin  Hughitt,  thirty-four-year-old 
general  manager  of  the  Pullman  Palace  Car  Company,  had  been 
appointed  general  superintendent  of  the  system. 

The  curtain  had  risen  on  the  North  Western's  second  "^lan  of 
Destiny." 


Cl 


lapter^    ^6 

MARVIN     HUGHITT 


What  james  j.  hill  was  to  the  Northern  Pacific,  what  Collis  P.  Hunting- 
ton was  to  the  Southern  Pacific,  what  Sir  William  Van  Home  was  to  the 
Canadian  Pacific,  and  what  Henry  B.  Plant  was  to  the  Atlantic  Coast 
Line,  Marvin  Hughitt  was  to  the  Chicago  and  North  Western.  Though 
the  Illinois  Central  claims  him  ...  as  one  of  its  products,  the  name  of 
Hughitt  is  and  ever  will  be  inseparably  linked  with  the  development  of 
the  great  Chicago  and  North  Western  System  with  which  he  had  been 
continuously  identified  for  the  last  fifty-five  years  of  his  life  and  which 
was  under  his  unchallenged  direction  for  thirty-eight  years.* 

Marvin  Hughitt  was  destined  for  success  under  any  circum- 
stances. He  had  made  rapid  strides  in  railroading  while  still  in  his 
early  twenties,  but  strangely  enough  it  was  a  crucial  battle  of  the 
Civil  War  that  thrust  him  into  greatness. 

The  identity  of  the  ultimate  victor  of  tlie  Civil  War — in  the 
spring  of  1862 — was  anybody's  guess.  Shiloh  (April  5  to  7)  was 
wholesale  slaughter  on  both  sides  with  no  benefit ;  possibly  a  Con- 
federate failure  but  certainly  no  complete  Union  victory,  because 
it  was  not  followed  up.  ^Miat  accomplishment  there  was  for  the  lat- 
ter belonged  to  Don  Carlos  Buell,  who  rolled  up  to  the  battle  line 
on  the  morning  of  April  7  with  20,000  fresh  troops  and  enabled 
Halleck  to  take  the  offensive,  forcing  Beauregard  and  Johnston 
(A.  S.)  to  retire  on  Corinth. 

The  Federal  high  command  was  well  aware  that  Buell's  troops 
would  be  needed  from  the  time  battle  was  joined.  The  reinforce- 
ments— infantry,   cavalry,  artillery,  munitions,   and  supplies — had 

*  From  "The  Story  of  Marvin  Hughitt,"  written  for  the  Illinois  Central  Maga- 
zine by  Associate  Editor  Carlton  J.  Corliss  and  published  in  its  issue  of  September, 
1927. 

135 


1 36  THE      WAR     YEARS 

to  be  rushed  through  Ccntrah'a,  Tllinois  to  Cairo  over  a  single  track 
of  the  Illinois  Central.  Could  it  bo  done  in  time  for  Hallcck,  Grant, 
and  Pope — thus  aided — to  throw  back  the  Southerners? 

The  answer  was  up  to  a  youthful  trainmaster  headquartered  at 
Centralia — twenty-five-year-old  Marvin  Hughitt,  a  New  York  State 
farniboy  who,  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  had  persuaded  his  parents  to 
permit  him  to  go  to  Auburn,  the  county  seat,  and  there  learn  to 
operate  the  invention  of  Professor  Morse  for  the  transmission  of 
messages  over  strung  wires.  While  he  learned,  he  followed  the  pro- 
cedure for  both  existence  and  education  taken  by  so  many  telegraph 
operators  who  became  great  executives — he  delivered  messages.  At 
the  age  of  seventeen,  while  he  was  operating  a  key  at  Albany,  his 
speed  was  noticed  b}'  Judge  John  D.  Caton,  organizer  of  the  Illinois 
and  Mississippi  Telegraph  Company.  The  judge  hired  j'oung  Hugh- 
itt for  his  Chicago  office,  and  he  became  one  of  the  first  two  teleg- 
raphers employed  in  that  city.  He  was  a  superintendent  before  his 
nineteenth  birthday. 

A  few  months  later  Marvin  Hughitt  was  appointed  superintendent 
of  telegraph  and  train  despatcher  for  the  St.  Louis,  Alton  and  Chi- 
cago Railroad,  now  the  Chicago  and  Alton.  He  remained  with  the 
Chicago  and  Alton  until  January,  1862,  when  the  Illinois  Central, 
desperately  in  need  of  eflicient  trainmasters  and  telegraphers  be- 
cause of  its  heavy  troop-train  movements,  engaged  him  for  its 
southern  division.  Hughitt  was  in  his  office  at  Centralia  when  Gen- 
eral Halleck  sent  out  his  hurry  call  for  reinforcements.  The  youth- 
ful trainmaster's  job  was  to  get  an  army  to  Cairo. 

He  was  the  boss- — but  he  would  not  delegate  the  job  to  any  sub- 
ordinate. For  thirty-six  straight  hours  he  sat  at  the  despatcher's 
table,  glued  to  his  instrument,  keeping  the  trains  moving  far  faster 
than  the  government  or  Halleck  had  hoped  for.  When  he  staggered 
out  of  his  chair  every  designated  soldier,  horse,  and  gun,  and  every 
piece  of  equipment  had  been  detrained  at  Cairo.* 

Keauregard  retreated — and  Johnston  was  killed;  Halleck  failed 
to  follow  up.  Had  he  done  so,  the  verdict  of  many  military  experts 
— from  then  up  till  now — has  been  that  he  would  have  cut  the  Con- 
federacy in  two  and  immeasurably  shortened  the  war.  President  Lin- 

*  Corliss,  The  Story  of  Marvin  Ilughitt. 


MARVIN      HUGHITT  137 

coin  demanded  relief  for  the  Unionists  in  eastern  Tennessee.  Marvin 
Hughitt  had  hardly  rested  after  accomplishing  his  despatching 
feat,  when  he  was  called  upon  to  duplicate  it ;  he  had  to  shoot  an- 
other army  east  through  Centralia,  and  time  was  again  of  the  es- 
sence. He  sat  down  to  his  key  for  another  stretch  of  thirty-six  hours 
and  when  he  rose  the  job  had  been  done.  He  received  the  thanks  of 
President  Lincoln  and  of  the  Secretary  of  War.  He  was  made  super- 
intendent of  the  southern  division  of  the  Illinois  Central  and  three 
years  later,  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight,  he  was  appointed  general 
superintendent  of  the  road — the  youngest  man  ever  to  hold  such  a 
position  on  a  major  line.  He  remained  with  the  Illinois  Central  for 
five  years  when  the  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul  offered  him 
the  job  of  assistant  general  manager. 

Things  were  not  to  Marvin  Hughitt's  liking  on  the  Milwaukee, 
and  a  year  later  he  accepted  the  post  of  general  manager  of  the 
Pullman  Palace  Car  Company.  It  did  not  take  him  long  to  realize 
that  he  preferred  building  and  developing  railroad  track  to  build- 
ing railroad  cars — no  matter  how  sumptuous — and  after  a  year's 
service  he  parted  company  with  George  Pullman  with  the  best  of 
wishes  on  both  sides.  Hughitt  then  took  over  the  general  superintend- 
ency  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western — a  job  that  had  been  offered 
him  twice  before  over  the  passage  of  four  years. 

At  the  age  of  thirty-eight  Hughitt  became  general  manager  of 
the  road;  four  years  later  he  was  made  a  vice-president.  In  1882  he 
was  elected  president  of  the  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and 
Omaha  at  the  time  it  became  the  principal  subsidiary  of  the  Chicago 
and  North  Western.  Later,  as  they  passed  into  control  of  the  Chi- 
cago and  North  Western,  he  became  president  of  the  Fremont,  Elk- 
horn  and  Missouri  Valle}- ;  the  Sioux  City  and  Pacific ;  and  the  Mil- 
waukee, Lake  Shore  and  Western.  He  was  made  president  of  the 
North  Western  in  June,  1887. 

To  Barret  Conway,  vice-president  and  secretary  of  the  North 
Western,  who  was  secretary  to  the  president  for  thirteen  years,  from 
June,  1902,  to  August,  1915,  we  are  indebted  for  the  following  inti- 
mate paragraphs  regarding  Hughitt : 

From  1887  until  1910,  when  Mr.  Hughitt  resigned  the  presidency  and 
assumed  the  position  of  Chairman  of  the  Board  of  Directors,  he  operated 


THE      WAR      V  K  A  n  S 


a  one-man  road.  Even  after  he  became  Chairman  of  the  Board,  he  still 
remained  the  very  active  head  of  tlie  property,  At  the  time  it  was  pre- 
dicted that  tlie  change  of  title  would  mean  little  in  the  way  of  shelving 
of  responsibility  and  active  management  by  Mr.  Hughitt,  and  so  it  turned 
out  to  be.  The  new  president  was  obliged  to  continue  to  defer  to  Mr. 
Hughitt  on  questions  of  policy  and  details  of  management.  Not  until  he 
reluctantly  relinquished  the  helm  in  June  1925,  at  the  age  of  nearly  88, 
and  accepted  the  somewhat  honorary  title  of  Chairman  of  the  Finance 
Committee  (which  he  held  until  the  day  of  his  death),  was  anyone  else 
the  head  of  the  North  Western  Railway  save  Marvin  Hughitt.  During  his 
38  years  of  active,  firm  control,  he  shaped  its  policies  and  guided  its 
course.  Under  him  the  railroad  grew  and  expanded.  The  administration 
of  its  affairs  and  its  well-being  absorbed  his  ever)'  thought  and  attention. 
It  was  often  said  of  him  that  he  had  just  two  interests  in  life:  one,  his 
family,  and  the  other,  the  North  Western  Railway.  He  seemed  not  to 
know  how  to  play,  and  wasted  no  precious  time  in  frivolous  pursuits  but 
devoted  his  spare  time  to  good  reading:  history,  biography  and  philoso- 
phy. Having  had  little  formal  schooling,  through  wide  reading  he  became 
self-educated  and  highly  cultured.  Even  so,  he  is  said  to  have  stated  that 
he  would  have  given  his  right  arm  for  a  college  education.  He  was  deeply 
religious  and  a  regular  church  attendant;  dignified,  courtly,  impressive, 
not  easily  approachable  but  withal  kind,  considerate,  and  a  most  inter- 
esting, well-informed  conversationalist. 

Although  he  insisted  at  all  times  upon  strict  observance  of  all  govern- 
mental laws  and  requirements,  he  was  impatient  of  the  restraints  imposed 
by  ever  increasing  governmental  regulation.  Anent  his  insistence  on  high 
ethics  and  conformity  with  all  laws  and  regulations,  one  of  his  vice-presi- 
dents made  the  lugubrious  comment:  "Yes,  we  are  highly  moral,  but  mean- 
while the  (naming  a  certain  irritating  competitor)   is   getting  the 

business."  As  early  as  1907,  when  new  teeth  were  put  into  the  Interstate 
Commerce  Act  and  some  of  the  states  also  enlarged  and  strengthened 
their  railroad  laws  and  regulations,  Mr.  Hughitt  was  heard  to  agree  with 
a  brother  railroad  president  that  the  government  was  "fast  taking  all  of 
the  fun  out  of  the  railroad  business."  Federal  Control  of  the  Nation's 
railroads  during  World  War  I  was  a  bitter  pill.  He  chafed  and  fumed 
at  governmental  waste,  woeful  neglect  of  maintenance  and  operating  in- 
efficiency. When  that  sad  period  was  ended,  he  lost  no  time  in  resuming 
control  and  inaugurating  measures  to  rehabilitate  and  restore  the  prop- 
erty. If  Mr.  Hughitt  had  lived  to  see  the  depression  of  the  1930s,  which 
precipitated  trusteeship  and  subsequent  reorganization  of  the  North 
Western  Company,  and  the  rash  of  federal  controls  and  restrictions  im- 


MARVINHUGHITT  139 

posed  by  alphabetical  bureaus  during  the  New  Deal  regime,  that  soul- 
trying  period  would  have  been  another  sad  blow  for  him.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  would  have  had  enormous  pride  in  the  magnificent  record  which 
his  beloved  North  Western,  in  common  with  all  other  railroads  of  the 
country,  made  in  carrying  the  staggering  transportation  burden  of  World 
War  II. 

It  is  not  generally  known  that  at  an  early  time,  before  the  establish- 
ment of  friendly,  agreeable  arrangements  with  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad 
for  the  exchange  of  traffic  at  Council  Bluffs  and  Omaha  and  when  the 
Union  Pacific  was  being  a  bit  difficult  about  interchange  with  the  Sioux 
City  and  Pacific  road  at  Fremont,  Mr.  Hughitt  caused  a  reconnaissance 
to  be  made  for  an  extension  of  the  North  Western  line  from  its  then 
Wj'oming  terminus,  through  the  Wind  River  ^Mountains  of  that  state, 
pointing  towards  the  Pacific  coast.  The  subsequent  traffic  tie-up  with 
the  Union  Pacific  caused  the  reconnaissance  report  to  be  filed  and  for- 
gotten. The  prospect  of  costly  construction  through  rugged  mountain 
terrain  was  doubtless  also  a  factor  in  the  shelving  of  the  report.  Some 
wiseacres  have  stated  that  ^Ir.  Hughitt  missed  his  chance  to  acquire  the 
Union  Pacific  Railroad  for  the  North  Western  when  the  former's  finan- 
cial difficulties  of  the  early  1890s  threw  the  company  into  receivership 
which  culminated  in  its  reorganization  in  1897,  at  which  time  E.  H.  Harri- 
man  appeared  on  the  scene  and  put  the  Union  Pacific  upon  the  way  to 
its  subsequent  glory.  It  has  been  stated  in  explanation  that  Mr.  Hughitt 
was  a  Director  of  the  Union  Pacific  at  the  time  and  had  some  close  con- 
nection with  the  Kuhn-Loeb  reorganization  committee,  which  prevented 
his  taking  advantage  of  the  golden  opportunity.  It  is  not  known  certainly, 
however,  that  he  or  anyone  else  then  connected  with  the  North  Western 
recognized  the  opportunity  which,  if  seized,  would  undoubtedly  have 
magnificently  enlarged  the  road's  fortunes  and  destiny. 

When  the  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul  Railway  Company  was 
building  its  Pacific  coast  extension,  Mr.  Hughitt  was  taunted  for  letting 
the  Milwaukee  people  get  the  jump  on  him.  After  intensive  study  of 
population,  agricultural,  industrial  and  topographical  statistics  of  the 
northwestern  region  already  served  by  two  fine  railroads — the  Northern 
Pacific  and  Great  Northern — Mr.  Hughitt  was  confirmed  in  his  resolve 
to,  as  he  expressed  it,  "stick  to  our  knitting,  develop  this  railroad  In  its 
present  territory  and  let  the  ^Milwaukee  build  to  the  coast  if  it  wants  to." 
He  predicted  that  the  Milwaukee's  extension  would  prove  to  be  a  heavy 
financial  burden  and  would  very  probably  bring  trouble  in  its  wake,  and 
so  it  turned  out  when  the  INIilwaukee  went  into  receivership  in  1925  and 
was  reorganized  in  1927. 


Cl 


lapter    /  7 

RURAL     OPPOSITION 


In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  had  started 
out  as  a  "farmers'  railroad,"  the  North  Western  was  plagued  in  the 
seventies  bj  Granger  legislation  designed  to  control  railroad  profits. 
Railroads,  by  this  time,  were  "big  business";  and  although  the 
farmers  still  invested  in  railroad  stocks,  they  felt  they  were  not  get- 
ting a  fair  deal. 

The  Grange,  as  it  came  to  be  called,  was  the  brain  child  of  Oliver 
Hudson  Kelly,  a  post-office  clerk  in  the  Federal  capitol.  Kelly  came 
of  farming  folks  and  although  he  elected  to  become  a  pen-pusher  his 
sympatliies  were  always  for  the  plow-pushers ;  he  considered  every 
railroad  an  octopus,  fattening  on  the  proceeds  of  agriculture  with- 
out giving  the  producer  his  fair  share.  On  top  of  that  he  opined,  not 
without  reason,  that  the  farmer  was  the  biggest  individual  investor 
in  the  construction  of  proposed  roads  and  deserved  a  better  deal. 
Farmers,  concluded  Kelly — again  not  without  reason — were  the 
eventual  losers  when  receiverships  and  reorganizations  came  along, 
and  he  waxed  particularly  angry  when  he  thought  of  the  closing  of 
farm  mortgages  when  the  owners  of  the  land  had  pledged  their 
property  as  security  for  railroad  stock. 

Kelly  talked  another  post-office  clerk,  William  Ireland,  into  his 
way  of  thinking,  and  they  gathered  a  third  disciple  in  William  Saun- 
ders, also  a  government  clerk  but  employed  in  the  Agricultural 
Bureau.  The  trio  incorporated  the  "Patrons  of  Husbandry"  and 
gathered  into  the  fold  a  St.  Paul  spellbinder.  Colonel  D.  A.  Robert- 
son, who  went  off  "to  set  the  prairies  afire  with  oratory."  Robertson 
changed  the  name  of  the  organization  to  the  Grange.  Shouting  his 
way  through  the  Northwest  and  the  Middle  West  for  four  years,  he 
built  up  a  powerful  organization  composed  entirely  of  farmers  and 

no 


RURAL      OPPOSITION  14X 

managed  by  farmers.  The  main  object — you  might  say  the  only 
object — of  the  Grange  was  regulation  of  the  railroads  by  the  people 
who  had  granted  the  charters  through  their  duly  elected  representa- 
tives in  the  Legislatures. 

In  the  Wisconsin  State  Legislature  of  1874,  Senator  R.  L.  D. 
Potter  introduced  the  first  Granger  law.  The  preceding  eighteen 
months  had  been  sad  ones  for  many  farmers — nor  had  they  been 
particularly  bright  months  for  the  railroads.  In  Wisconsin  alone, 
3,785  farm  mortgages  valued  at  over  $-1,000,000  had  been  fore- 
closed ;  many  of  these  mortgages  were  railroad-owned.  The  Potter 
Act  fixed  arbitrary  rates  for  freight  transported  in  the  state  and 
cut  passenger  rates  to  three  cents  per  mile,  first  class,  and  two  cents 
second  class.* 

The  railroad  attorneys  attacked  the  bill  on  constitutional  grounds, 
holding  that  nobody  but  the  roads  had  the  right  to  fix  transporta- 
tion charges.  The  reply  of  the  bill's  supporters  was  that  the  roads 
were  quasi-public  industries  and  had  accepted  public  land  grants. 
The  people  of  Wisconsin  divided  themselves  into  two  camps — as  is 
usual  between  those  who  have  and  those  who  have  not.  Northern 
Wisconsin,  still  to  get  its  railroads,  was  for  the  railroads;  southern 
Wisconsin,  beginning  to  think  in  the  light  of  lost  farms  and  bank- 
rupt lines  that  it  had  too  many  roads,  was  for  the  Potter  Act.  Writ- 
ten into  the  bill  was  something  that  particularly  infuriated  the  rail- 
roads :  members  of  the  Legislature,  state  officers,  and  judges  were 
to  be  carried  free;  not  only  were  the  solons  out  to  slice  the  fares  of 
the  common  people,  but  they  wanted  free  passes  for  doing  so ! 

Despite  the  desperate  lobbying  and  legal  work  of  the  railroads, 
the  Potter  Bill  became  law  in  the  same  session  that  had  witnessed  its 
presentation.  The  final  draft,  as  enacted,  put  maximum  first-class 
fare  at  four  cents  per  mile.  The  measure  was  signed  by  Governor 
W.  D.  Taylor,  who  had  been  elected  to  office  by  the  now  powerful 
Grange  on  a  promise  along  these  lines.  The  North  Western  and 
the  other  roads  concerned  did  not  adjust  their  tariffs  to  conform 
until  compelled,  some  six  months  later,  to  do  so  by  injunction  handed 
down  by  Chief  Justice  Edward  G.  Ryan  of  the  Wisconsin  Supreme 

*  Derleth,  August,  The  Milwaukee  Road,  Creative  Age  Press,  Inc.,  New  York, 
1948. 


THE      WAR      YEAR! 


Court.  Appeal  was  taken  to  tlie  United  States  Supreme  Court,  but 
never  reached  that  body. 

The  railroads  concerned,  working  together — for  the  menace  to 
all  was  very  clear  throughout  the  land — let  it  be  known  far  and  wide 
that  the  Potter  Law  meant  the  cessation  of  railroad  building  not 
only  in  Wisconsin  but  in  near-by  states  and  to  the  West,  the  East, 
the  North,  and  the  South.  The  country  was  slowly  recovering  from 
the  panic  of  1873;  people  were  beginning  to  move  again;  settlers 
wished  to  get  out  into  the  far  places.  True  to  their  strategy,  the 
roads  cut  down  service.  Wall  Street  and  other  eastern  money  centers 
expressed  doubt  as  to  the  wisdom  of  investment  in  existing  roads 
and  projected  roads ;  the  buttle  between  the  Grange  and  the  lines 
was  on  again  full  blast  despite  the  fact  that  tlie  latter  had  conformed 
to  the  tariff  cuts. 

In  187(5  a  Rejoublican  governor,  Harrison  Ludington,  was  elected, 
and  with  him  a  Republican  majority  took  over  in  both  houses  of  the 
Wisconsin  Legislature.  The  governor,  in  his  first  message,  eloquently 
pleaded  the  financial  plight  into  which  the  Potter  Law  had  thrust 
the  railroads ;  he  pointed  out  that  the  state  was  not  even  25  per 
cent  developed  in  the  matter  of  this  very  necessary  sort  of  trans- 
portation— and  that  he  was  talking  of  present  population  and  not 
of  population  to  come,  which  population  assuredly  would  not  come 
unless  the  railroads  built  on.  Governor  Ludington  concluded  his 
address  with  a  plea  for  repeal  of  the  Potter  Law  and  passage  of  the 
Vance  Bill — which  provided  for  a  supervising  commissioner,  re- 
pealed the  legislation  of  1874,  and  left  rates  as  they  liad  been  before 
the  Grange's  short-lived  victory. 

The  Vance  Bill  became  law  in  double-quick  time,  halting  state  and 
even  Federal  railroad  regulation  for  long  years  to  come. 

The  North  Western's  annual  report  for  1877  pointed  with  pride: 

The  three  main  lines  of  the  company's  railway  and  their  ramifications 
cover  the  quadrant  of  a  circle  whose  radius  of  over  500  miles  sweeps  to 
the  north,  northwest  and  west  from  Chicago.  Nearly  every  variety  of 
production  and  industry  incident  to  the  vigorous  activity  of  that  country, 
from  Lake  Superior  on  the  north  to  the  transcontinental  traffic  via  Oraalia 
on  the  west,  is  embraced  witliin  the  limits  of  tliese  enclosing  lines. 


RURAL      OPPOSITION  1-id 

The  iron  ore,  the  copper,  stone,  minerals  and  timber  of  the  Upper 
Peninsula  of  Michigan ;  the  manufactures,  agriculture,  commerce  and 
immense  lumber  interests  of  Wisconsin ;  the  extensive  wlieat-growing 
prairies  of  jNIinnesota  and  Dakota,  and  the  great  and  diversified  products 
of  some  of  the  fairest  and  most  thriving  portions  of  Illinois  and  Iowa, 
from  the  lakes  to  the  Missouri  River,  all  contribute  in  greater  or  less 
degree  to  the  volume  of  traffic  which  supports  our  revenues. 

A  fine  recovery  indeed  from  the  slough  of  despond  into  which  the 
road  had  admitted  being  plunged  by  the  Potter  Law ! 

In  1877,  construction  of  an  important  branch  commenced;  this 
was  the  Menominee  River  Railroad  from  a  connection  southwest  of 
Escanaba,  IMichigan,  and  designed  to  furtlier  open  up  the  rich  min- 
ing regions.  Completed  between  Powers  and  Quinnesec,  a  distance 
of  about  twenty-five  miles,  it  was  extended  between  1877  and  1882 
over  the  state  line  into  Wisconsin  and  served  various  mining  set- 
tlements at  Florence,  Wisconsin,  and  Crystal  Falls,  Iron  River 
Junction,  Stambaugh,  Narenta,  and  Metropolitan — all  in  Michigan ; 
the  latter  two  settlements  linked  up  the  Menominee  with  the  Esca- 
naba and  Lake  Superior  Railway. 

The  results  of  the  fiscal  year  ending  May  31,  1878,  were  eminently 
satisfactory.  The  net  earnings  of  the  road,  with  its  leased  and  pro- 
prietary lines,  were  $2,464,487.16 — more  than  twice  as  much  as 
those  of  the  previous  year.  Marvin  Hughitt,  now  general  manager 
of  the  road,  was  gradually  replacing  iron  rails  with  steel,  having  by 
this  time  covered,  two-thirds  of  the  trackage;  all  newly  built  lines 
and  extensions  were  steel-railed.  By  1885,  with  a  total  mileage  of 
3,843.31,  steel  rails  were  laid  over  3,302.06  miles. 

Incidentally,  while  on  the  subject  of  steel  rails,  the  Chicago  and 
North  Western  was  the  first  American  road  to  test  out  the  refine- 
ment for  track  purposes.  We  quote  from  Maintenance  of  Way  and 
Structure  by  William  C.  Willard,  assistant  professor  of  railway 
engineering  at  McGill  University : 

The  first  steel  rails  made  in  America,  six  in  number,  were  rolled  in 
May,  1865,  at  the  North  Chicago  Rolling  INIill  from  ingots  of  Bessemer 
steel  cast  at  the  Wyandotte  mills,  near  Detroit.  These  rails  were  placed  on 
the  track  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  and  are  known  to  have  car- 


1  it  THE      WAR      YEARS 

ried  traffic  for  over  ten  years,  but  there  is  no  record  of  when  the_v  were 
finally  removed.  The  first  rails  rolled  in  America  were  patterned  after 
those  rolled  in  England  and  had  a  height  of  four  to  four  and  a  half 
inches  with  a  comparatively  thin  head  and  thick  base. 

Witli  a  view  of  diminishing'  the  number  of  corporations  and  sepa- 
rate organizations  included  in  the  system  controlled  and  operated  by 
the  company,  an  effort  was  made  during  1881  to  bring  together, 
capitalize,  and  merge,  under  authority  of  law,  the  various  properties 
situated  in  each  state,  so  far  as  could  be  conveniently  effected  inde- 
pendently of  the  organization  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western 
Company. 

The  Elgin  and  State  Line  Railroad  Company',  the  St.  Charles 
Railroad  Company,  and  the  State  Line  and  Union  Railroad  Com- 
pany, in  the  states  of  Illinois  and  Wisconsin,  were  consolidated 
under  the  name  of  the  Elgin  and  State  Line  Railroad  Company'. 

The  Chicago  and  Milwaukee  Railway  Company,  the  Northwestern 
Union  Railway  Company,  the  Milwaukee  and  Madison  Railway  Com- 
pany', the  Chicago  and  Tomah  Railroad  Company  (which  had  prcvi- 
ousl}'  been  merged  with  the  Galena  and  Wisconsin  Railroad  Com- 
pany), and  the  Sheboygan  and  Western  Railway  Company  were 
consolidated  in  the  states  of  Illinois  and  Wisconsin,  under  the  name 
of  the  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  North  Western  Railway  Company. 

The  Menominee  River  Railroad  Company  in  Michigan,  and  the 
Menominee  Railway  Company  in  Wisconsin  were  consolidated  under 
the  name  of  the  Menominee  River  Railroad  Company  in  both  states. 

The  Winona  and  St.  Peter  Railroad  Company,  the  Plainview 
Railroad  Company,  the  Chatfield  Railroad  Company,  the  Rochester 
and  Northern  Minnesota  Railway  Company,  the  Minnesota  Valley 
Railway  Company,  and  the  Chicago  and  Dakota  Railway  Company 
were  united  in  Minnesota,  and  formed  the  Winona  and  St.  Peter 
Railroad  Company. 

In  1882,  much  was  done  in  the  way  of  construction.  The  Iowa 
Southwestern  was  completed,  its  length  being  51.8  miles.  The  more 
important  line  of  the  Toledo  and  Northwestern  Railway  was  pressed 
forward  and  practically  the  entire  line  was  finished  during  1883. 
An  extension  of  71  miles  of  the  St.  Peter  road  in  Dakota  was  also 


RURAL      OPPOSITION  i-*^ 

commenced  in  1SS2,  and  completed  in  1883,  as  well  as  extensions  of 
the  Escanaba  and  Lake  Superior  and  the  Menominee  River  lines.  In 
November,  1882,  purchase  was  made  of  a  majority  of  the  capital 
stock  of  tlie  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and  Omaha  Railway 
Company.*  Delivery  and  payment  were  to  be  made  during  the  sum- 
mer of  1883.  The  management  of  this  corporation  was  reorganized 
and  placed  under  the  control  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western 
Company  on  December  16,  1882.  The  so-called  "Omaha  Line"  em- 
braced 1,147  miles  of  well-equipped  railroad. 

In  1883,  an  extension  of  78.22  miles  was  made  of  the  Toledo  and 
Northwestern  Line,  securing  connection  with  the  southeastern  divi- 
sion of  the  Dakota  Central.  During  the  year,  certain  proprietary 
lines  in  Michigan  became  a  part  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway.  Two  of  the  branch  lines  in  Wisconsin  were  absorbed,  and 
on  June  8,  1883,  was  effected  the  consolidation  of  the  Elgin  and 
State  Line  and  the  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  North  Western  Rail- 
ways with  the  Chicago  and  North  Western. 

During  1884,  the  following  leased  and  tributary  lines,  operated 
by  the  company  in  Iowa,  were  purchased:  Chicago,  Iowa  and  Ne- 
braska Railroad,  from  the  Mississippi  River  bridge  at  Clinton  to 
Cedar  Rapids ;  Cedar  Rapids  and  Missouri  River  Railroad,  from 
Cedar  Rapids  to  Council  Bluffs,  these  two  constituting  the  main  line 
across  the  state,  and  the  Maple  River  Railroad,  a  valuable  connec- 
tion running  into  northwestern  Iowa — a  total  of  487.97  miles.  Con- 
trol was  acquired  through  purchase  of  the  capital  stock  of  the  fol- 
lowing: the  Sioux  City  and  Pacific  Railroad,  from  Sioux  City  to 
California  Junction  near  Missouri  Valley,  thence  across  the  Missouri 
River  to  a  connection  with  the  Fremont,  Elkhorn,  Missouri  Valley 
at  Fremont,  Nebraska ;  the  Missouri  Valley  and  Blair  Railway  and 
Bridge  Company,  owning  the  bridge  and  its  approaches  over  the 
Missouri  River  at  Blair;  and  the  Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Missouri 
Valley  Railroad,  from  Fremont  to  Valentine,  near  Fort  Niobrara, 
Nebraska,  with  the  Creighton  branch,  311  miles;  total,  418.42  miles 
of  tributaries,  and  the  Blair  Bridge  property. 

In  pursuance  of  the  company's  policy  to  reduce  the  number  of 
its  minor  corporations,  the  properties  of  the  Iowa  Midland  Railway 

*  See  separate  chapter  on  the  Omaha. 


THE    w  A  n    V  F.  A  n  s 


Company;  Stanwood  and  Tipton  Railway  Company;  Dcs  IVIoincs 
and  Minneapolis  Railroad  Conii)any;  Ottuinwa,  Cedar  Falls  and 
St.  Paul  Railwaj'  Company ;  and  Iowa  Southwestern  Railway  Com- 
pany were  acquired  by  purchase  in  October,  1884,  by  the  Chicago 
and  North  Western  Railway  Company. 


CJ  art  Kjfu 


we 


THE     LAST     FRONTIER 


Cl 


lanter    /S 

THE     OMAHA     CLIMBS     ABOARD 


While  the  North  Western  was  justifiably  taking  pride  in  its 
increased  business  during  the  seventies  and  prudently  consolidating 
many  of  its  smaller  lines,  pioneer  construction  was  still  under  way 
in  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota.  But  now  it  had  taken  on  a  broader 
significance.  The  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and  Omaha  was 
to  emerge  as  an  important  railroad.  And  the  North  Western  was 
to  take  a  new  interest  in  the  Minnesota  railroads  as  a  jumping-off 
place  for  extension  of  its  lines  into  the  Dakotas. 

Nobody  in  the  Middle  West  or  along  the  route  of  rails  toward 
the  Pacific  needed  to  be  told  any  more  about  the  speedy  miracles  of 
transportation.  Minnesota  had  had  a  series  of  sad  experiences  and 
to  a  lesser  degree  so  had  Wisconsin  and  Iowa  and  Missouri.  But 
when  one  would-be  Ogden  found  bankruptcy  at  the  end  of  his  hastily 
built  right  of  way,  there  were  alwaj's  a  few  score  waiting  to  take  up 
his  burden.  So,  presently,  hopeful  little  railways  were  extending  out 
of  undistinguished  hamlets  all  over  the  Mississippi  Valley.  Where 
they  were  bound  for  only  their  promoters  would  have  dared  to  say, 
but  it  was  obvious  that  the  bulk  of  them  came  of  ambitious  parent- 
age. They  were  all,  a  casual  observer  must  have  gathered,  destined 
to  run  as  far  as  dry  land  would  let  them. 

In  one  thing  at  least  their  imposing  names  were  all  alike :  the  Bird 
Center,  Pig's  Eye  and  Pacific ;  the  Corntown,  Chicago,  New  Orleans, 
Minneapolis  and  Pacific ;  the  This,  That  or  Other  and  Pacific.  Few 
of  them  reached  an  adult  stature  of  as  much  as  thirty  miles. 

In  Minnesota  the  state  had  been  compelled  to  take  over  the  rail- 
road properties  when  the  operating  companies  couldn't  lay  track  or 
meet  their  obligations.  In  adjoining  communities  the  state  wasn't 
involved,  but  the  process  seems  to  have  been  just  about  the  same 

149 


160  THELASTFRONTIEIl 

and  just  as  continuous.  So  the  roster  of  the  rails  took  on  new  con- 
fusion with  the  addition  of  new  names  for  new  companies  and  new 
aliases  for  old  ones. 

In  Wisconsin,  Illinois,  Iowa,  the  jumble  of  little  railroads  going 
nowhere  was  quite  as  purposeless  and  as  extensive  as  in  Minnesota 
until  the  1857  panic  that  speculation  had  engendered  wiped  most 
of  them  out.  The  North  Western,  absorbing  a  line  here  and  a  line 
there  and  building  suitable  connecting  links,  had  gone  far  afield 
from  the  little  avenue  of  strap  iron  that  Ogden  and  the  Illinois 
farmers  started  to  build  in  IS-iS.  By  18G4'  it  had  extended  itself  well 
up  into  northern  Wisconsin  and  was  over  the  Mississippi  River  at 
Clinton.  But  of  even  greater  importance  to  the  founder's  jjlans  for 
opening  up  the  Northwest  Territory  was  its  arrival  in  the  midst  of 
the  Minnesota  chaos  in  1867. 

The  chaos,  as  has  been  mentioned,  was  straightening  out  a  bit. 
After  several  false  starts,  the  land  grant  railroads  were  moving 
north,  south,  and  west  from  St.  Paul.  The  Minnesota  Valley  was 
actually  in  operation  as  far  as  Lake  Crystal  below  Mankato.  The 
Winona  and  St.  Peter  Railroad  Company,  subsidized  by  a  valuable 
state  land  grant  in  1863,  was  able  to  get  a  quantity  of  cash  out  of 
D.  N.  Barney  and  Company  and  eventually  to  lay  down  102  miles 
of  road  westward  from  Winona.  This  was  the  property  acquired  by 
the  North  Western  on  October  31,  18G7. 

The  new  owners  immediately  began  to  push  the  line  westward 
toward  the  Dakota  Territory. 

Old-timers  must  have  stood  amazed  at  the  illogical  brashness  of 
this  venture.  It  was  one  thing  to  take  over  a  road  in  southern  Min- 
nesota, traversing  a  lush  farming  area  and  linking  dozens  of  vigor- 
ous and  well-established  communities.  It  was  another  to  strike  out 
into  an  expanse  of  prairie  land  in  the  Sioux  country  where  there 
were  no  towns,  no  farms,  no  produce,  and  virtually  no  white  inhabi- 
tants save  trappers  and  soldiers  and  less  easily  identified  adven- 
turers. The  terminal  objective  was  Fort  Pierre  on  the  Missouri.  And 
the  most  enthusiastic  of  empire  builders  might  have  wondered  at 
that,  too.  Fort  Pierre  was  already  in  touch  with  the  outer  world  by 
means  of  steamboats  running  north  from  Omaha.  (Its  business  as 
late  as  1870  was  merely  that  of  a  military  post.)  Prairie  lands 
stretched  to  the  east  of  it  for  a  couple  of  hundred  miles  to  the  Min- 


THEOMAHACLIMBSABOARD  lol 

nesota  settlements  and  west  to  the  mysterious — almost  mythical — 
Black  Hills.  North  Western  scouts,  including  William  Butler  Ogden 
himself,  had  ridden  horseback  over  much  of  this  area  and  had  been 
able  to  report  that  the  sod  of  the  prairies  along  the  Missouri  looked 
much  like  the  sod  that  had  been  broken  to  the  plow  in  Wisconsin, 
Minnesota,  and  Iowa.  AVhether  the  soil  beneath  would  grow  anything 
but  buffalo  grass  they  did  not  know.  They  could  only  hope. 

The  rails  went  on  past  Mankato  and  New  Ulm  and  Tracy  toward 
Lake  Benton  and  the  state  line  and  the  great  unknown.  Those  were 
the  days  when  to  run  a  railroad  you  had  to  have  the  sort  of  vision 
denied  to  people  who  didn't  run  railroads,  and  moreover  you  had  to 
have  a  swashbuckler's  daring. 

For  a  couple  of  years  the  drive  toward  Dakota  was  the  North 
Western's  only  interest  in  Minnesota.  But  in  retrospect,  it  appears 
that  a  number  of  uncorrelated  influences  were  building  up  what  was 
to  become  one  of  the  most  important  parts  of  its  network  in  the 
Mississippi  Valley. 

For  one  thing,  there  was  the  Tomah  and  Lake  St.  Croix  Railroad 
Company  or  the  La  Crosse  and  Milwaukee  Railroad  Company  or 
the  W^estern  Wisconsin  Railroad  Company,  or  whatever  you  choose 
to  call  it. 

Its  principal  mission  under  tlie  charter  granted  by  the  state  of 
Wisconsin  was  to  build  a  line  from  Tomah  to  Lake  St.  Croix.  As  the 
Western  Wisconsin  in  1870  it  was  given  a  charter  amendment  au- 
thorizing the  construction  of  a  road  to  the  south  edge  of  the  state. 
Two  years  later  JNIinnesota  granted  permission  for  the  building  of  a 
bridge  across  Lake  St.  Croix.  In  1876  Wisconsin  legalized  an  exten- 
sion of  its  line  from  Warren's  Mills  to  Elroy.  In  1878  it  was  virtu- 
ally bankrupt  and  sold  out  to  a  syndicate  headed  by  H.  H.  Porter, 
David  Dows,  and  Walston  H.  Brown.  It  was  reorganized  as  the 
Chicago,  St.  Paul  and  Minneapolis  Railway  Company. 

Across  the  river  in  lower  Minnesota  was  the  St.  Paul  and  Sioux 
City  Railroad  Company,  formerly  the  Root  River  and  Southern 
Minnesota  and  more  recently  the  Minnesota  Valley  Railroad.  By 
1878  it  was  approaching  the  southwest  corner  of  the  state.  At  Heron 
Lake  it  made  a  junction  with  the  grandiosely  titled  Minnesota  and 
Black  Hills  road  which  had  crawled  westward  about  forty  miles. 

Somewhat   farther   south    it    encountered    the    Worthington    and 


162  THE      LAST      K  II  O  N  T  I  E  R 

Sioux  Falls  Railroad  (previously  known  by  other  names)  which 
had  been  authorized  by  act  of  Congress  to  extend  its  road  from 
Minnesota  to  Sioux  Falls,  South  Dakota,  and  had  done  so.  These 
lines,  together  with  the  St.  Paul,  Stillwater  and  Taylor  Falls  Rail- 
road (28  miles),  the  Hudson  and  River  Falls  Railroad  (12  miles), 
and  the  Omaha  and  North  Nebraska  (63  miles)  were  all  merged  into 
the  St.  Paul  and  Sioux  City  system  in  1879. 

And  finally,  or  nearly  so,  there  was  the  North  Wisconsin  Railway 
Company,  incorporated  by  the  state  of  Wisconsin  in  1871,  to  build 
a  road  between  St.  Croix  Lake  and  Lake  Superior.  It  got  on  with  its 
work  until  1880  when  it  was  consolidated  with  the  Chicago,  Saint 
Paul  and  Minneapolis  Railway  Company  under  the  name  of  Chicago, 
Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and  Omaha  Railway  Company.  In  1881 
this  new  organization  took  over  the  St.  Paul  and  Sioux  City  road 
with  all  its  newly  acquired  ramifications.  And  in  1882  the  Chicago 
and  North  Western  Railway  Company  got  control  of  the  majority 
stock  in  the  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and  Omaha  System. 
The  dream  of  William  Butler  Ogden  was  taking  on  a  tangible  pat- 
tern. 

When  the  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and  Omaha  Railway 
Company  came  into  being  in  1880,  the  citizens  of  St.  Paul  and  Min- 
neapolis were  predicting— on  somewhat  meager  evidence — that  the 
railroad  had  come  to  stay.  Another  road  had  been  linked  up  with 
Chicago,  but,  more  importantly,  there  was  now  a  band  of  steel  be- 
tween the  Twin  Cities  and  Lake  Superior. 

The  newspapers  greeted  the  event  as  an  occasion  for  great  local 
rejoicing.  Once  more  there  were  long  discussions  in  print  of  how, 
with  this  new  outlet  to  the  sea,  St.  Paul  was  destined  to  become  the 
great  rail  center  of  the  United  States.  Other  lines  had  brought  civ- 
ilization to  the  outlands  and  increasing  trade  to  the  river  settlements. 
But  this  big  consolidation  would  bring  Minnesota  squarely  into  the 
world's  markets.  This  line  was  truly  what  its  name  implied,  IMinne- 
apolis's  railroad  and  St.  Paul's  railroad. 

Only  one  small  item  in  the  structure  of  the  Chicago,  Saint  Paul, 
Minneapolis  and  Omaha  Railway  Company  seems  to  have  been  over- 
looked. As  the  result  of  having  acquired,  among  other  lines,  the  Hud- 
son  and  River  Falls  Railway  Company,  the  headquarters   of  the 


THE      OMAHA      CLIMBS     ABOARD  153 

Omaha  system  were  not  in  St.  Paul  or  Minneapolis  or  even  in  Minne- 
sota. They  were  over  the  St.  Croix  River  in  Hudson,  Wisconsin,  one 
of  the  original  points  of  the  line. 

So  it  was  to  Hudson,  Wisconsin,  that  the  directors  of  the  Chicago, 
Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and  Omaha  Railway  traveled  to  their  first 
board  meeting.  Nobody  mentioned  very  loudly  that  there  was  some 
sort  of  trouble  on  their  connecting  link  between  the  St.  Croix  bridge 
and  St.  Paul.  Nor  was  it  entered  in  the  minutes  that  President  H.  H. 
Porter  and  directors  Jacob  Humbird,  John  A.  Humbird,  David 
Dows,  Philetus  Sawyer,  Edgar  P.  Sawyer,  R.  P.  Flower,  R.  R.  Cable, 
and  W^.  H.  Ferry  had  to  ride  to  the  meeting  aboard  a  stagecoach 
from  Stillwater. 

Just  how  far  the  little  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  had  come  from 
its  first  stop  in  Oak  Park  was  evidenced  in  Albert  Keep's  presiden- 
tial report  for  1882: 

The  system  embraced  by  the  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and 
Omaha  Railway  Company  at  the  time  of  the  purchase  covered  1,147 
miles  of  well-equipped  railroad,  extending  from  ^Minneapolis  and  St. 
Paul  southeast  to  a  connection  with  the  road  of  this  company  (the  Chi- 
cago and  North  Western)  at  EIroy;  northwestwardly  to  Bayfield  and 
Superior  City  on  Lake  Superior;  southwestwardly  to  Sioux  City,  Eastern 
Nebraska,  Omaha,  and  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad,  and,  by  its  southern 
connection  at  the  Iowa  state  line,  opened  to  the  Toledo  and  North  West- 
ern railway  and  all  the  Iowa  roads  of  this  company  direct  communication 
for  the  interchanging  transportation  of  grain,  cattle,  coal,  lumber  and 
other  products  of  Iowa  and  Minnesota.  .  .  •  The  property  of  the  Chi- 
cago, Saint  Paul,  Minneapolis  and  Omaha  Railway  Company  was  much 
improved  and  enlarged  under  its  former  management,  and  some  of  its 
lines  had  become  indispensable  and  others  greatly  necessary  to  the  in- 
tegrity and  completeness  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  System  in 
the  northwest.  .  .  . 

Like  many  another  railroad  president  before  him  and  since.  Keep 
seems  a  little  formal  about  discussing  the  miracles  he  has  seen — a 
little  self-conscious  and  fearful  lest  somebody  accuse  him  of  brag- 
ging. But  the  point  of  the  matter  is  that  he  actually  saw  the  mira- 
cles and  had  his  own  part  in  their  performance.  The  greatest  and 
most  expensive  jigsaw  puzzle  from  the  beginning  of  such  things  until 
1882  had  been  completely  and  efficiently  assembled.  From  the  second- 


THE      LAST      FnONTIER 


hand  odds  and  ends  of  a  couple  of  dozen  little  railroads  designed  to 
run  only  between  brokerages  offices  and  bankruptcy  courts,  the 
North  Western's  salvage  crews  had  evolved  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able transportation  sj'stcms  in  the  world. 

At  last  they  had  contrived  a  direct  line  between  Ciiicago  and  Min- 
neapolis and  St.  Paul.  Another  direct  line  linked  Omaha  and  the 
Twin  Cities.  And  there  were  others :  Chicago  to  Sioux  City ;  Winona 
to  the  Missouri  River;  Chicago  to  Lincoln,  Nebraska;  ]\Iinncapolis 
to  Des  Moines ;  Ciiicago  to  Appleton ;  Chicago  to  Duluth  and  the 
iron  and  copper  country  and  tlie  Upper  Peninsula  of  Michigan;  Chi- 
cago to  Omaha  and  by  througii  sleeping  cars  to  the  Pacific  coast. 

The  Chicago  and  North  Western  and  the  Chicago,  Saint  Paul, 
Minneapolis  and  Omaha  systems  made  a  close-meshed  grid  across 
northwestern  Wisconsin,  southern  Minnesota,  and  northern  Iowa, 
crossing  each  other  seventeen  times.  By  a  revolution  in  transport 
they  had  made  over  the  lives  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people  in 
the  Middle  West.  And  now  they  were  moving  out  once  more  toward 
the  emptiness  of  tiie  great  plains  and  the  unknown  hazards  of  the 
broad  Miss-oo-rye. 


a 


'lapter    ^9 

EMPTY     HORIZONS 


When  Minnesota  was  made  a  state  in  1858,  the  white  population 
in  the  Dakota  Territory  adjoining  was  purely  theoretical.  Pierre 
Chouteau,  a  trapper,  had  ventured  into  the  Missouri  Valley  near  the 
junction  of  the  Sioux  in  1856  and  had  brought  some  sort  of  entour- 
age with  him.  His  camjj  was  probably  the  first  civilian  settlement 
in  the  region. 

The  great  land  stampede  that  had  outnumbered  if  not  outdis- 
tanced the  gold  rushes  of  the  forties  and  fifties  had  stopped  some- 
what short  of  the  Dakota  Territory.  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota  may 
have  been  a  wilderness,  but  they  had  been  friendly  lands  of  fertile 
promise.  Broad  river  systems  had  given  them  an  accessibility  even 
through  forest  lands  where  roads  would  be  long  arriving.  The  scat- 
tering Indian  tribes  had  been  ajjathetic  or  peaceful  or  easily  sub- 
dued. 

The  land  of  the  Dakotas  was  different.  It  was  harder  to  reach. 
True,  the  Missouri  River  led  into  it,  and  steamboats  operated  on  the 
Missouri.  But  excejjt  for  the  military,  there  were  no  scheduled  opera- 
tions to  jumping-off  places  up  in  Montana  or  intermediate  sectors. 
There  was  no  great  network  of  rivers  to  give  settlements  a  sense 
of  being  linked  with  other  settlements  and  to  provide  some  means 
of  communication  with  markets.  The  Missouri's  tributaries  were 
twisting  and  shallow,  turbulent  or  dry  depending  on  the  season, 
but  rarely  navigable.  The  mighty  Red  River  on  the  east  side  of  the 
territory  ran  north  and  south  and  flowed  into  Canada,  and  offered 
few  advantages  to  pioneers  inland  hundreds  of  miles  west. 

The  Dakotas  were  vast,  treeless  plains  surrounded  by  empty 
horizons.  They  seemed  lonelier  than  the  wooded  hinterlands  of  the 
upper  Mississippi  because  anyone  standing  in  them  could  be  in  no 

155 


1 66  T  H  E      L  A  S  T      F  It  O  N  T  I  E  R 

doubt  about  liis  own  isolation.  In  a  forest  one  might  live  in  the 
hope  that  tlie  next  turn  of  the  trail  would  reveal  a  clearing  and 
human  habitation.  On  a  Dakota  prairie  one  experienced  no  such 
delusion.  There  weren't  any  trails.  There  wouldn't  be  any  human 
habitations.  If  you  walked  fifty  yards  west  of  the  Missouri's  right 
bank  you  had  the  uncanny  sense  of  entering  into  another  world.  No 
wliitc  man  had  ever  been  here  before  you.  Most  likely  no  human  foot 
had  trod  the  soil  on  whicli  you  stood — not  since  the  beginning  of 
time. 

And  this  was  truly  Indian  country.  After  the  ]Minnesota  Valley 
uprisings  of  1862,  the  Sioux  had  been  driven  into  Dakota  to  a 
sketchily  defined  reservation  in  what  the  natives  now  call  the  "west 
river  country."  Cavalry  rode  herd  on  them  mostly  to  see  that  they 
did  not  venture  back  beyond  the  Minnesota  pale  of  settlement.  But 
generally  they  were  allowed  to  roam  about  pretty  much  as  they 
pleased,  and  few  homeseekers  craved  their  company. 

As  has  been  said,  nobody  gave  much  thought  to  the  natural  re- 
sources of  this  weird  land.  The  old  cry  was  echoing  once  more :  What 
price  crops  when  you  can't  sell  them  to  anybody?  The  boom  that 
was  one  day  to  put  the  world's  wheat  center  in  the  middle  of  Dakota 
Territory  was  a  long  time  getting  under  way. 

It  cannot  be  said,  however,  that  the  few  settlers  in  this  region 
were  without  initiative  and  resourcefulness.  Witness  their  early 
political  activities. 

Without  wishing  to  detract  from  the  stature  of  the  western  pio- 
neer as  a  person  of  courage  and  amazing  durability,  it  is  still 
possible  to  say  that  the  picture  of  him  in  moving  pictures,  school 
histories,  and  patriotic  speeches  is  somewhat  distorted.  He  is  repre- 
sented usually  as  a  starry-e^'ed  if  not  fanatical  idealist.  He  has 
come  from  Sweden  or  Ireland  or  ]\Ionaco  just  to  make  a  still  more 
glorious  country  out  of  the  United  States  which  he  has  learned  some- 
how to  love.  His  is  the  mission  to  labor  unselfishly,  to  suffer  and 
fight,  that  the  principles  of  freedom  and  democracy  shall  be  estab- 
lished here  in  the  wilderness  for  all  time.  Patiently  he  carries  on, 
come  hell  or  high  water,  not  for  himself  but  for  the  everlasting  bless- 
ing of  millions  yui  unborn.  Anyway,  that's  how  it  reads  in  tlie 
scenario. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  j'our  pioneer  was  a  iiard-bittcn  realist  wiio 


EMPTY      HORIZONS 


wouldn't  have  survived  if  he  had  been  anything  else.  His  conception 
of  a  free  country  was  one  in  which  he  could  go  around  being  a  hard- 
bitten realist  and  make  it  pay. 

He  came  to  America  and  spread  out  into  the  hinterlands  with  very 
little  worry  about  the  untold  millions  yet  unborn — hardly  any  at 
all.  His  concern  was  for  himself  and  his  immediate  family.  Here  was 
a  chance  to  pick  up  the  little  piece  of  land  that  he  never  could  have 
had  in  his  homeland.  He  would  have  to  pay  for  it  with  hard  work 
and  hard  living.  But  what  of  that?  He  was  used  to  work  and  dis- 
comfort at  home.  The  land  was  fertile — so  he  had  heard.  It  would 
raise  fabulous  crops  and  would  bring  wealth  to  him  in  his  declining 
years.  And,  if  farming  bored  him  as  it  sometimes  did,  he  was  under 
no  compulsion  to  stay  behind  a  wooden  plow.  There  were  other  op- 
portunities on  the  frontier.  A  man  with  ambition  and  intelligence 
could  do  well  for  himself  in  trade,  in  crafts,  in  politics. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  hardy  pioneer  was  the  greatest  of  our 
citizens,  a  man  of  high  moral  character,  prodigious  physical  force, 
and  unbelievable  resilience.  He  had  to  be  to  protect  himself  against 
land  agents,  Indians,  and  other  pioneers.  But  somewhere,  somehow, 
he  saw  a  practical  side  to  the  ideal  of  democracy.  He  loved  freedom 
well  enough  to  fight  for  it — as  he  did  heroically  and  in  great  num- 
bers in  the  Civil  War.  But  it  is  hardly  right  to  say  that  he  loved 
it  as  a  noble  theory.  Rather  he  loved  it  as  an  institution  that  in 
one  way  or  another  paid  a  dividend. 

When  argument  over  the  admission  of  Minnesota  to  the  Union 
began  in  Washington  in  1857,  the  echoes  of  the  debate  came  eventu- 
ally to  the  land  of  the  Dakotas.  The  boundary  lines  of  the  projected 
state  had  been  pretty  well  established  in  previous  discussions,  and 
it  was  obvious  that  the  prairie  land  west  of  the  Red  River  and  Big 
Sioux  River,  even  then  loosely  called  Dakota,  would  be  given  identity 
as  an  administrative  unit.  The  prospect  was  given  a  lot  of  serious 
discussion  in  the  bars  of  St.  Paul  and  the  cavalry  posts  along  the 
Missouri.  But  it  caused  no  waving  of  flags  or  dancing  in  the  streets 
among  the  worthy  citizens  of  Dakota.  The  white  population  of  the 
new  territory  totaled  exactly  30  souls. 

Most  of  these  worthy  pioneers,  for  some  reason  not  yet  clear, 
had  settled  in  what  is  now  Big  Sioux  County  near  Sioux  Falls.  In 
1858  they  were  pretty  well  out  of  the  world,  but  that  should  not  be 


158  THE      LAST      FnONTIF.n 

taken  as  evidencu  tluit  tlicy  were  authfiitic  yokt'ls.  'i'liey  were  not. 

It  has  been  said  that  they  received  some  instruction  in  territorial 
politics  from  men  who  had  held  fjovernuient  contracts  to  supply 
military  and  Indian  j)osts  in  IMinnesota.  If  so,  they  learned  rapidly 
and  well. 

On  May  12,  the  day  after  Minnesota  became  a  state,  the  populace 
of  Dakota  Territory  met  in  caucus.  With  great  solemnity  they  set 
out  to  elect  a  legislature  and  a  governor  pro  tern. 

In  groups  of  two  and  three  they  drove  out  over  the  prairie,  stop- 
ping every  few  hundred  yards  to  establish  a  voting  precinct  and 
hold  an  election.  The  organizers  cast  not  only  their  own  votes  but, 
to  save  time,  they  voted  also  in  behalf  of  absent  relatives  in  Sweden 
or  Chicago  or  Heaven.  Then  they  carefully  counted  the  votes,  made 
note  of  the  results,  and  moved  on  to  establish  and  operate  the  next 
voting  precinct. 

There  was  little  variation  in  the  process  throughout  the  after- 
noon. ^^^len,  eventually,  the  election  commissioners  reconvened,  they 
discovered  that  they  had  established  a  territorial  government,  com- 
plete with  a  governor,  lower  house,  and  territorial  council.  They 
drew  up  a  constitution,  enacted  laws,  and  arranged  for  tax  levies — 
this  time  most  assuredly  for  the  "generations  yet  unborn." 

Then  they  memorialized  Congress  to  recognize  their  de  facto 
government  and  maintain  them  in  the  offices  to  which  they  had  been 
so  painstakingly  elected  by  themselves.  They  also  petitioned  that 
Sioux  Falls  be  given  official  designation  as  the  territorial  capital. 

They  had  more  than  a  year  to  argue  the  point  before  Washington 
took  any  notice  of  Dakota  Territory's  existence  and  in  the  end 
nothing  came  of  it — Congress  said  no.  But  one  of  the  lesser  known 
emoluments  of  pioneering  had  been  brought  out  where  everybody 
could  see  it.  From  then  on  your  plainsman  was  first  a  politician  and 
then  a  drawer  of  water  (if  any)  and  a  hewer  of  wood.  He  has  looked 
at  public  office  with  a  sort  of  proprietory  interest  ever  since. 


Cl 


ADVANCE     ON     THE     DAKOTAS 


The  rails  came  slowly  out  of  Minnesota  to  feel  their  way  across 
the  Dakota  prairies — a  great  faith  behind  them  and  an  unreasoning 
hope  ahead. 

Elsewhere — in  the  develojDment  of  Illinois,  Wisconsin,  Iowa,  and 
Minnesota — the  people  had  been  first  in  the  wilderness.  Communities 
had  appeared  in  the  clearings  and  in  the  meadowlands  at  the  bends 
of  rivers,  and  crops  had  been  harvested  before  the  coming  of  the  first 
tracklayer. 

Here  in  a  newer  and  more  lonesome  world,  everything  was  changed 
about.  Surveyors  and  graders  and  gandy  dancers  were  striking  out 
into  a  vast  emptiness  as  wide  as  the  continent  of  Europe  and  as  far 
from  civilization  as  the  plains  of  Mars.  Over  the  endless  carpet  of 
grass  they  were  laying  out  their  fretwork  of  ties  and  iron.  Behind 
them  on  the  far  horizon  unfamiliar  plumes  of  smoke  marked  the 
advent  of  the  pot-stacked  locomotive  that  tomorrow  would  be  at 
today's  end  of  the  rail,  rousing  echoes  never  heard  in  this  land  since 
the  creation  of  the  world.  Swarms  of  men  would  come  out  of  nowhere, 
drop  their  odd  loads  of  wood  or  stone  or  metal,  and  move  on  toward 
nowhere  across  the  horizon.  Presently  the  trains  would  be  here  and 
over  the  hill  after  them.  And  that  would  be  the  oddest  feature  of 
all  this  odd  undertaking  because  there  would  be  nobody  here  to 
ride  on  trains — not  today  or,  some  skeptics  felt  certain,  tomorrow, 
or  ever. 

The  Dakota  Southern  Railroad  Company,  over  which  the  redoubt- 
able John  I.  Blair  was  presently  to  trip  himself  up,  was  first  into  the 
territory  with  a  line  from  Sioux  Falls  to  Yankton  which  was  com- 
pleted and  in  operation  early  in  1873.  Promoted  by  Yankton  busi- 
nessmen to  meet  a  purely  local  situation,  it  could  hardly  be  con- 

159 


1 60  T  H  E      L  A  S  T      F  U  O  N  TI  E  R 

sidcrcd  a  part  of  the  great  conquest  of  the  West  by  steam,  altliough 
it  played  its  part.  For  one  thing,  it  proved  tiiat  a  railroad  might 
be  run  with  profit  in  the  territory  if  people  could  survive  there,  and 
its  construction  was  convincing  proof  to  hesitant  land-seekers  that 
settlers  were  finally  moving  into  southeastern  Dakota's  fertile  val- 
leys. 

As  has  been  mentioned  elsewhere,  the  white  influx  into  the  land 
of  the  Dakotas  began  somewhere  near  the  junction  of  the  Big 
Sioux  and  the  Missouri  rivers  and  extended  in  a  leisurely  fashion  up 
the  Missouri.  This  was  not  because  land  in  that  region  was  any 
more  promising  than  elsewhere  along  the  east  side  of  the  territory. 
But  it  was  closer  to  transportation  and  therefore  closer  to  the 
civilization  that  newcomers  to  these  parts  seemed  reluctant  to  leave. 

The  depression  of  1873,  which  was  to  hamper  railroad  construc- 
tion in  the  prairie  country  for  many  years,  seems  to  have  had  its 
midwestern  debut  in  a  North  Western  special  train  at  Winona,  Min- 
nesota. There  had  been  considerable  progress  during  the  first  part 
of  the  year.  The  Baraboo  Air  Line  had  been  completed,  connected 
with  the  La  Crosse,  Trcmpleau  and  Prescott  road,  and  opened  for 
business  to  Winona  on  September  1-i.  The  Winona  and  St.  Peter 
road  was  finished  to  Lake  Kampeska  in  the  Dakota  Territory  and 
was  opened  by  a  gala  excursion  of  bankers,  merchants,  grain  brok- 
ers, industrialists,  and  other  important  citizens  from  Chicago,  leav- 
ing on  Monday,  September  15. 

All  was  good  cheer  until  the  party  arrived  in  Winona  and  got  off 
the  train  for  what  was  to  have  been  a  roaring  local  reception.  They 
were  met  by  a  harried  telegrapher  with  a  message.  Jay  Cooke  & 
Company  had  failed,  and  the  panic  was  on. 

Probably  no  group  of  men  with  a  more  vital  interest  in  the  news 
could  have  been  found  anywhere  in  the  Mississippi  Valley.  But  de- 
spite anxiety  and  alarm,  most  of  the  traveling  tycoons  decided  to 
go  ahead  and  get  what  consolation  they  might  out  of  the  develop- 
ment of  the  West.  At  St.  Peter  that  same  evening  they  got  another 
shock.  Another  telegram  was  handed  aboard  the  train,  this  one  stat- 
ing that  Chicago  was  burning  down  for  a  second  time  and  that  the 
partly  rebuilt  business  district  had  ah-eady  been  totally  destroyed. 

This  time  the  train  was  held.  Quick  telegrams  to  Chicago  proved 
that  there  was  no  truth  in  the  report,  that  it  had  not  originated  in 


ADVANCE  ON   THE   DAKOTAS  161 

Chicago,  but  possibly  from  Milwaukee,  Madison,  or  St.  Paul,  and 
nothing  more  than  that  was  ever  learned  about  it. 

Relieved  by  one  bit  of  good  news  to  balance  the  bad,  the  excur- 
sionists went  on  to  reach  Lake  Kampeska  and  what  must  have  looked 
like  them  to  be  the  ultimate  in  desolation,  the  next  morning. 

There  was  little  here  in  a  rail  end,  64:0  miles  from  Chicago,  sur- 
rounded by  Indians  and  roving  herds  of  buffalo,  to  make  them  for- 
get that  the  financial  structure  of  the  whole  country  was  falling 
down.  There  were  virtually  no  settlers  in  South  Dakota  save  the  fur 
traders  along  the  Missouri.  Western  Minnesota,  through  which  they 
had  just  passed,  was  practically  unknown. 

So  they  went  home,  to  worry  about  the  future  of  the  country, 
through  a  territory  that  was  to  be  in  one  generation  one  of  the  rich- 
est in  the  world.  Where  the  buffaloes  had  grazed  would  be  trim,  fer- 
tile farms  with  comfortable  homes  and  capacious  barns.  Land  that 
might  have  been  theirs  as  a  gift  was  in  the  near  future  to  sell  for 
$1,000  an  acre.  And  they  had  seen  not  so  much  the  building  of  a 
railroad  as  the  beginning  of  a  miracle. 

From  this  point  on,  according  to  Doane  Robinson,*  for  many 
years  state  historian  of  South  Dakota,  "railroad  building  in  the 
larger  sense  was  due  to  the  forward  vision  of  Marvin  Hughitt,  presi- 
dent of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  line,  who  after  a  personal 
inspection  of  the  Dakota  prairies  concluded  that  it  was  good  busi- 
ness to  extend  railroads  across  them  as  an  inducement  to  business. 
This  had  not  previously  been  done  except  to  hold  grants  of  land." 
He  continues : 

Following  his  vision  he  projected  the  Dakota  Central  division  of  the 
North  Western  road  west  from  a  connection  with  the  Winona  and  St. 
Peter  division  at  Tracy,  Minnesota  to  Pierre  in  1879-80.  His  theory  was 
promptly  confirmed  by  an  influx  of  settlers,  which  justified  the  construc- 
tion of  the  other  lines  that  make  up  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Sys- 
tem east  of  the  Missouri  River. 

When  Mr.  Hughitt  announced  his  plans,  the  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and 
St.  Paul  Railroad,  his  chief  competitor  in  the  northwestern  field,  accepted 
it  as  a  challenge  and  forthwith  projected  its  own  system  into  the  state. 
In  due  course  other  lines  followed.  .  .  . 

•  Robinson,  Doane,  Encyclopedia  of  South  Dakota,  published  by  the  state  of 
South  Dakota  at  Pierre,  S.D.,  1895. 


162  THE      LAST      mONTIER 

It  was  at  this  point,  in  May,  1879,  that  John  Blair  came  to  Yank- 
ton to  see  about  buying  a  railroad — and  met  defeat.  He  was  an  old 
man,  and  tlie  competition  proved  to  be  too  much  for  him. 

John  Blair's  party  consisted  of  C.  E.  Vail  of  Blairstown,  New 
Jersey;  D.  C.  Blair,  Belden,  New  Jersey;  John  Bain,  Scranton, 
Pennsylvania;  and  sundry  others  who  had  been  identified  with  him 
in  the  railroad  business.*  They  had  come  from  the  East  to  meet 
C.  G.  Wicker  and  George  E.  Marchant  of  the  Dakota  Southern 
Railroad  Company.  These  men  had  recently  constructed  a  branch 
line  called  the  Sioux  City  and  Pembina  which  followed  the  Big  Sioux 
Valley  nortliwurd  as  far  us  Beloit,  Iowa,  opjjosite  Canton,  South 
Dakota. 

The  line  had  strategic  value  to  the  North  Western  system.  Con- 
struction of  a  short  spur  would  have  connected  it  with  the  Omaha's 
east  and  west  road  at  Sioux  Falls.  And  Blair  wanted  it.  He  bought 
52  per  cent  of  the  Dakota  Southern  stock  for  cash  after  a  brief 
negotiation  and  changed  the  title  of  the  road  to  the  Sioux  City  and 
Dakota  Railway  Company.  After  that  he  did  nothing  much  for  a 
year. 

Yankton,  currently  the  capital  of  the  territory,  was  without  a 
railroad  and  possibly  seemed  a  better  prospect  for  exploitation  than 
Sioux  Falls.  At  any  rate,  Blair  turned  his  attention  to  Yankton. 

At  a  meeting  with  the  local  businessmen  and  officials  he  pointed 
out  that  the  Milwaukee  road  was  just  about  to  bring  Sioux  City 
and  Sioux  Falls  closer  to  numerous  points  in  the  Missouri  Valley 
than  Yankton.  He  proposed  to  extend  the  Sioux  City  and  Pembina 
branch  up  the  James  River  to  Yankton,  providing  the  people  of 
Yankton  would  build  a  depot  and  donate  a  right  of  way  through 
the  county.  Yankton  agreed.  Surveyors  came  along  to  plot  the 
right  of  way.  But  about  that  time  Wicker  became  restive.  He  paid 
a  visit  to  Blair. 

He  had  received  an  offer  from  the  Milwaukee  road,  he  said,  for 
the  remaining  48  per  cent  of  his  stock.  The  Milwaukee,  he  explained, 
was  anxious  to  take  over  the  whole  road  for  which  reason  he  sug- 
gested that  Blair  sell  out  to  his  competitors  or  buy  the  48  per  cent 
minority  block  himself. 

•  Kingsbury,  G.  W.,  Tlistorii  of  Dakota  Territory,  privately  printed  by  Mr. 
Kingsbury  "at  Yankton,  S.D.,  IHBS. 


ADVANCE   ON   THE  DAKOTAS  163 

What  Blair  thought  of  this  proposition  is  difficult  to  establish. 
Wicker  says  that  he  agreed  to  buy  and  resorted  to  evasive  tactics 
when  held  to  his  promise.  But  Wicker  may  have  been  a  little  biased. 

For  some  months  negotiations  remained  at  a  standstill.  Then 
along  about  March  15,  1880,  AVickcr  got  impatient  and  sold  his 
stock  to  the  Milwaukee. 

Up  to  that  point  the  relationship  between  the  Milwaukee  officials 
and  Blair  had  been  considerably  short  of  lethal.  In  the  Sioux  City 
terminal  area  the  Milwaukee  had  been  operating  on  a  rental  basis 
over  Sioux  City  and  Dakota  railway  tracks,  and  all  had  been  sweet- 
ness and  light.  But  four  days  after  Wicker's  defection  there  were 
changes. 

Blair  issued  an  order  denying  the  Milwaukee  the  use  of  his  tracks, 
sheds,  roundhouses,  and  shops. 

Next  day  the  Milwaukee  came  back  vnih  a  writ  restoring  all 
former  privileges  and  declaring  itself  the  majority  stockholder  in 
Blair's  railroad.  Blair  and  his  associates  counted  up  the  52  per  cent 
of  stock  they  had  bought  from  Wicker,  found  that  it  was  still  52  per 
cent,  scratched  their  heads,  and  called  in  the  lawyers.  It  was  all  very 
confusing  until  March  20,  when  Wicker  issued  an  explanatory  state- 
ment: 

Mr.  Blair  had  a  52  per  cent  interest  as  against  my  48  per  cent  interest 
in  the  road  with  the  Pembina  branch  completed  to  Detroit,  Iowa.  With 
the  extension  of  the  line  from  the  latter  place  to  Sioux  Falls,  the  com- 
pany was  entitled  to  issue  additional  stock  and  bonds.  A  meeting  was 
called  and  this  was  done. 

The  additional  stock  issued  to  me  on  the  extension  added  to  what  I 
already  had,  just  oversized  Mr.  Blair's  interest.  And  this  was  transferred 
to  the  Milwaukee,  leaving  Mr.  Blair  in  the  minority. 

The  Board  of  Directors  then  leased  the  Sioux  City  and  Dakota  line  to 
the  Milwaukee,  and  bonds  issued  on  the  extension  from  Beloit  to  Sioux 
Falls  were  also  sold  to  the  same  company  for  90  per  cent  par. 

The  same  night  a  letter  was  sent  to  Mr.  Blair  containing  a  draft  for 
$198,276.47  to  his  order  and  representing  his  entire  investment  in  these 
lines  including  interest  to  date. 

This  indicates  that  there  has  been  no  intent  to  defraud  Mr.  Blair  out 
of  any  money  he  may  have  put  into  these  enterprises ;  but  as  he  would 
neither  buy  nor  sell,  he  has  just  been  forced  to  take  his  own  and  step  out. 


164  THE      LAST      FRONTIER 

Kingsbury,  the  Dakota  historian,  states  that  this  was  the  first 
time  John  I.  Blair  had  ever  been  outsmarted  in  a  railroad  deal — 
which  is  probably  true.  He  seems  to  have  known  more  about  the 
higher  mathematics  of  grants  and  subsidies  and  allowances  per  mile 
than  anybody  else  in  the  country.  But  in  this  case,  having  lost  the 
dice  he  never  got  them  back  again. 

A  week  after  Wicker's  coup  he  came  to  Yankton  and  laid  the 
matter  before  the  courts. 

He  asked  orders  against  the  present  management  of  the  Sioux  City 
and  Dakota  company  restraining  operations,  extensions,  and  ex- 
penditures. He  denied  Wicker's  contention  that  the  extension  of  the 
Pembina  branch  to  Sioux  Falls  had  justified  the  issue  of  additional 
stock.  He  contended  that  he  had  built  the  extension  himself  at  a 
cost  of  $200,000. 

He  put  up  a  good  argument.  But  Judge  Shannon  decided  against 
him  in  July.  It  was  one  of  the  few  adverse  decisions  Blair  had  ever 
experienced. 

He  took  it  calmly  enough,  thanked  the  court  politely,  and  an- 
nounced that  he  would  not  appeal  the  case.  A  few  days  later  he 
sold  his  stock  in  the  Sioux  City  and  Dakota  lines  and  went  back 
East. 

The  financial  world  stood  amazed,  not  that  he  had  been  tricked, 
but  because  he  had  been  willing  to  accept  a  humiliating  defeat  with- 
out putting  up  some  sign  of  a  fight. 

Ferguson,  who  attended  the  Yankton  hearings,  sums  it  up  in  his 
own  way. 

"Blair,"  he  says,  "had  passed  the  age  when  ambition  seeks  ag- 
grandizement.  .   .   .   He  was  old  and  he  was  tired." 

Motivated  by  the  land  rush  of  the  late  seventies,  the  drive  west- 
ward might  have  gone  on  without  predictable  limits  save  for  one 
thing.  Both  the  North  Western  and  the  Milwaukee  roads  reached 
the  Missouri  in  1880.  But  there  they  stopped.  Between  the  river 
and  the  western  boundary  of  the  territory  lay  the  great  Sioux 
reservation.  In  exchange  for  lands  in  Minnesota  and  elsewhere,  by 
virtue  of  a  solemn  pact  with  the  Sioux,  this  was  strictly  Indian 
country  into  which,  theoretically,  the  white  man  and  his  iron  horses 
would  never  be  allowed  to  penetrate.  The  government  made  a  virtu- 


ADVANCE     ON     THE     DAKOTAS 


165 


ous  show  of  maintaining  the  treaty  as  it  applied  to  the  West  River 
territory  no  matter  what  was  happening  to  it  elsewhere — which  was 
quite  a  lot.  So  the  railroads  sat  in  Chamberlain  and  Pierre  while 
their  representatives  harangued  Washington,  and  their  surveying 
crews  studied  the  trans-Missouri  flatlands  with  mixed  emotions. 


In  1880  the  pattern  of  the  present  railway  system  was  well  established  as  gaps 
between  isolated  lines  disappeared.  Gold  in  South  Dakota's  Black  Hills  was  to 
be  the  magnet  in  the  next  decade. 

The  land  beyond  the  western  bluffs  was  different  from  the  prairies 
behind  them,  now  greenly  opulent  with  growing  wheat  and  corn. 
Over  there  the  wild  little  tributaries  of  the  Missouri  had  carved 
a  disheartening  array  of  deep  gullies.  After  the  gullies  came  stretches 
of  grassland  whose  fertility  had  never  been  tested.  And  in  the  dis- 
tance, as  one  approached  the  Magic  Mountains,  stretched  the  Bad 
Lands,  a  region  that  few  men  had  seen  and  thousands  had  heard 
about  with  complete  skepticism — an  utterly  fantastic  place  of  fluted 
ravines  and  crenelated  walls — a  melange  of  glittering  towers  and 
spires  and  minarets  and  moated  castles. 


I  (56  T  II  E      L  A  S  T      r  n  O  N  T  I  E  R 

A  mysterious  and  unpredictable  area,  this  unpluiiibed  land  across 
the  river.  A  few  men  had  traversed  it — trappers,  adventurers,  out- 
riders for  the  railroads.  But  their  reports  made  little  sense.  Through 
them  ran  the  vague  influence  of  the  unknown — Indian  superstition ; 
black  magic ;  death  in  unexplainable  forms ;  charms,  taboos,  and 
deadly  curses.  The  engineering  parties,  the  land  agents,  the  town- 
site  promoters  were  agreed  on  one  point :  it  would  take  a  lot  of  argu- 
ment to  induce  peaceful  settlers  to  follow  the  rails  into  a  region  so 
damned  by  legend. 

Good  business  sense  might  have  caused  loud  rejoicing  that  the 
rails  had  come  as  far  as  they  could  and  that  the  Dakota  boom  had 
finished  in  commonplace  farms  east  of  the  river.  But  another  factor 
had  entered  into  the  lives  of  the  people  of  South  Dakota  and  the 
men  who  governed  them  and  the  railroads  that  served  them  and  the 
Indians  who  sat  at  their  western  fence  line.  Gold  had  been  discovered 
in  the  Black  Hills. 

The  history  of  the  Magic  Mountains,  awesome  uplift  at  the  south- 
west corner  of  South  Dakota,  is  extremely  meager  until  the  middle 
seventies,  when  they  were  overrun  with  trouble.  The  Verendrye 
brothers  visited  the  region  in  1743  but  weren't  sufficiently  impressed 
to  leave  a  record  of  any  value.  Standing  Buffalo,  an  Oglala,  ven- 
tured into  them  in  1775.  French  traders  and  trappers,  who  wan- 
dered for  a  hundred  years  through  adjacent  territories,  knew  of 
them,  probably  had  seen  them  closely  enough  to  call  them  the  "Black 
Hills,"  but  apparently  never  had  enough  curiosity  to  explore  them. 

The  Black  Hills,  of  course,  are  not  hills  at  all,  but  mountains  of 
impressive  proportions,  the  oldest  range  in  the  United  States  if  not 
in  the  world.  AMien  viewed  from  a  few  miles'  distance  they  really  are 
black,  taking  their  color  from  the  dense  growth  of  pines  on  their 
flanks.  Their  sombre  coloration  and  the  frequent  thunderstorms 
that  echo  through  miles  of  rocky  canyons  caused  the  Sioux  to 
stand  in  complete  awe  of  them.  They  were  hallowed  ground,  the  home 
of  the  Great  Manitou  and,  therefore,  taboo  to  humans. 

They  were  obdurate  in  their  treaty  negotiations  on  the  point 
that  the  region  should  be  held  sacred  by  the  whites  as  well  as  Indians 
and  they  received  solemn   assurance   that    the   Black   Hills   should 


ADVANCE  ON  THE  DAKOTAS  167 

remain  theirs  "as  long  as  the  grass  shall  grow  or  the  waters  shall 
run." 

The  grass  continued  to  grow  until  August,  1873,  when  a  scout 
brought  word  to  Fort  Abraham  Lincoln,  near  Bismarck,  that  he  had 
seen  indications  of  gold  on  the  west  slope  of  the  Black  Hills.  On 
orders  from  above.  General  George  Armstrong  Custer,  with  1,200 
cavalrymen,  rode  out  to  investigate.  There  had  been  a  serious  panic 
in  the  land,  and  the  economic  value  of  a  new  gold  strike  outweighed 
the  worth  of  governmental  promises. 

AVith  the  expedition  went  Horatio  N.  Ross,  about  whom  little  is 
known  except  his  name.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  he  was  a  prac- 
tical miner.  He  found  gold  in  the  sands  of  French  Creek  near  the 
present  site  of  Custer,  South  Dakota,  on  or  about  July  27,  1874. 

Some  optimist  directly  responsible  for  the  prospecting  of  the 
Hills  felt  that  any  discovery  of  gold  could  be  kept  secret.  But  inside 
of  a  month  everybody  in  the  United  States  had  heard  about  it.  And 
in  frequently  repeated  conversation  Ross's  little  show  of  dust  had 
become  a  fabulous  bonanza. 

The  rush  began  immediately'.  Hundreds  of  men  who  had  never 
before  heard  of  the  Black  Hills  were  on  their  way  overnight.  Wagon- 
train  outfitters  began  to  do  a  business  in  Sioux  City,  Norfolk,  and 
Sidney.  Before  the  winter  of  1874  considerable  camps  of  gold  seekers 
had  been  set  up  around  the  foot  of  Harney  Peak  and  loose-footed 
prospectors  were  wandering  about  the  northern  Hills. 

The  government,  belatedly  conscious  of  the  broken  treaty,  made 
some  effort  to  stop  this  influx.  Cavalrymen  were  sent  out  onto  the 
trails  from  the  south  and  east  to  drive  back  would-be  settlers.  White 
men  already  in  the  Hills  were  ordered  to  get  out.  But  by  the  time 
the  Army  got  around  to  carry  out  this  agenda,  the  damage  was 
done. 

By  1875  so  many  fortune  hunters  were  headed  for  southwestern 
Dakota,  and  so  many  hundreds  of  them  had  eluded  the  cavalrymen, 
that  the  sanctity  of  the  Hills  could  not  have  been  maintained  with- 
out a  larger  army  and  considerable  violence.  The  quarantine  order 
was  rescinded.  The  Sioux,  when  they  protested  this  flagrant  viola- 
tion of  their  rights,  were  pushed  out  onto  the  plains  beyond  the 
Hills.  In  another  few  months,  Custer  and  his  command  were  to  pay 
for  official  double  talk  in  the  battle  of  the  Little  Big  Horn. 


168  THE      LAST      FRONTIER 

In  the  fall  of  1875,  John  Pearson,  one  of  the  venturesome  pros- 
pectors who  liad  gone  into  the  northern  Hills  instead  of  loitering 
around  French  Creek,  picked  his  way  into  a  fire-hlasted  canyon 
strewn  with  dead  timber.  At  the  junction  of  two  clear  mountain 
streams,  which  were  to  run  sluggisiily  black  for  more  than  fifty 
years,  he  found  color  in  the  gravel.  He  knew  he  had  made  a  strike, 
but  he  could  not  have  foreseen  its  importance.  For  this  was  Dead- 
wood  Gulch. 

When  Pearson  gave  out  word  of  his  discover^'  in  the  spring  of 
1876,  Custer  City  on  French  Creek  was  a  community  of  7,000  inhabi- 
tants. In  a  week  all  but  a  few  hundred  had  moved  out  to  try  their 
luck  in  Deadwood.  And  j^rfsently  the  rush  to  the  Hills  had  become  a 
stampede. 

There  were  no  railroads  near  this  corner  of  Dakota  Territory. 
There  were  no  wagon  roads  leading  into  it — not  even  trails.  There 
were  no  maps  of  the  region,  or  experienced  guides,  for  only  the 
military  had  made  a  study  of  the  Magic  Mountains.  And  in  1876 
the  soldiers,  particularly  the  troopers  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  were 
occupied  with  their  own  personal  concerns.  By  the  time  the  Dead- 
wood  boom  got  under  way,  however,  the  Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  was  selling  transportation  from  Chicago  to  various  points 
in  the  northern  Hills.  The  most  favored  route  was  by  North  Western 
to  Sioux  City,  Dakota  Southern  to  Yankton,  steamboat  to  Fort 
Pierre,  and  Concord  coaches  across  the  prairie  to  Rapid  City  and 
towns  beyond.  First-class  fare  for  this  journey  was  $41. 45.  A  sec- 
ond-class ticket  sold  for  ,$34,  but  the  holder  got  only  deck  passage 
on  the  river  steamboat  and  had  to  ride  with  the  bull  teams  from 
Pierre  to  the  Hills.  The  North  Western  also  quoted  rates  over  other 
routes  from  Cheyenne,  Wyoming;  Sidney,  Nebraska;  Sioux  City; 
Yankton;  and  Bismarck.  Horse-coach  and  oxcart  transportation 
was  provided  by  an  auxiliary  service  known  as  the  North  Western 
Stage  Company. 

Reports  of  the  massacre  of  the  Little  Big  Horn  appeared  in  the 
newspapers  of  the  East  almost  alongside  the  advertisements  for 
the  Stage  Company.  But  that  made  no  difference.  All  through  that 
year  when  the  triumphant  Sioux  were  slaughtering  white  prospec- 
tors within  calling  distance  of  the  settlements,  thousands  of  new- 
comers paid  their  $41.45  and  were  dumped  into  the  roaring  camps 


ADVANCE   ON  THE  DAKOTAS  169 

at  Deadwood,  Central  City,  and  Lead.  Some  of  them  died.  Some 
moved  out  again  with  the  next  bull  train ;  more  stayed.  And  despite 
its  isolation  and  its  risks  and  its  uncertain  resources,  the  Black 
Hills  country  began  to  take  on  the  appearance  of  a  prosperous 
community. 

Up  from  Fremont,  Nebraska,  in  the  seventies,  the  Fremont,  Elk- 
horn  and  Missouri  Valley  Railway,  presently  a  division  of  the  North 
Western,  began  to  feel  its  way  in  the  general  direction  of  the  Hills. 
It  moved  slowly  at  first  when  there  was  nothing  ahead  of  it  but  the 
problematical  yield  of  prairies  not  yet  settled — 10  miles  this  year, 
17  next  3-ear.  But  despite  financial  panics,  restrictive  legislation, 
and  no  business,  it  was  still  pulling  rails  to  the  west  when  the  gold 
rush  reached  its  peak.  In  1879  it  got  ahead  58  miles  from  Wisner 
to  Oakdale.  In  1881  it  moved  98  miles  from  Neligh  to  Long  Pine. 
In  188-i  it  was  rolling  over  another  137  miles  of  track  between  Val- 
entine and  Chadron,  Nebraska.  A  year  later  it  had  come  to  Buffalo 
Gap,  South  Dakota,  at  the  south  end  of  the  range.  And  on  July  4, 
1886,  the  first  railroad  train  beat  the  last  stagecoach  in  a  race  for 
Rapid  City. 

Rapid,  then  as  now,  was  the  gateway  to  tlie  Hills.  Over  to  the  west 
of  this  one-time  hay  camp,  gold-bearing  quartz  had  been  turned  up 
at  Keystone  and  Rockerville.  Ore  was  being  hauled  by  ox  team  to 
the  Rapid  City  smelter.  And  local  enthusiasts  were  forecasting  the 
day  when  neighborhood  mines  would  absorb  such  inefficient  outfits 
as  the  Homestake,  which  was  trying  to  pay  dividends  on  rock  that 
paid  only  four  dollars  a  ton.  One  reads  in  the  home-town  newspapers 
of  the  period  that  the  first  train  was  greeted  in  a  spirit  of  high  car- 
nival as  the  harbinger  of  a  new  day. 

An  elaborate  program  had  been  arranged  for  the  entertainment 
of  the  passengers.  Hundreds  of  cowboys  had  come  in  from  the  rap- 
idly growing  ranches  in  the  Bad  Lands.  A  couple  of  local  fire  com- 
panies were  scheduled  to  compete  in  a  hose-laying  contest.  And  as 
an  added  attraction  to  amuse  the  gullible  strangers  arriving  by 
train,  a  group  of  local  businessmen  had  completed  plans  for  a  stage- 
coach holdup. 

Not  many  men  are  now  alive  wlio  remember  that  momentous  day. 
You  get  something  of  the  flavor  of  it  from  the  diary  of  Robert  H. 


170  THE      LAST      FKONTIEU 

Driscoll  of  Lead,  who  had  been  invited  to  ride  on  the  train.  Driscoll, 
who  had  come  to  the  Hills  to  take  charge  of  the  Homestake  schools 
and  became  president  of  the  Lead  City  bank  (later  the  First  Na- 
tional Bank  of  Lead)  was  the  sort  of  observer  wlio  missed  few  de- 
tails. Here  is  his  story. 

Wednesday,  June  30 — Warm.  Left  Lead  8 :30  a.m. — E.  May,  his  wife 
and  child.  Miss  Franks  and  I.  Met  others  of  the  party  in  Deadwood  at 
10:30 — A.  E.  Franks,  Miss  Barry  and  her  friends.  Had  dinner  below 
Sturgis  under  a  tree.  Reached  Rapid  at  8:30  p.m.  Good  supper. 

Thursday,  July  1 — Left  Rapid  at  10  a.m.  Drove  8  miles  to  train.   .  .   . 

This  entry  might  be  difficult  to  understand  unless  one  remembers 
that  the  arrival  of  tlie  first  train  was  not  only  an  important  event, 
but  the  biggest  show  that  had  come  to  the  Black  Hills  since  The 
Mikado  played  1-iO  performances  in  Deadwood  in  1882.  The  tracks 
apparently  had  been  completed  right  up  to  the  depot  site.  But  the 
train,  star  performer  of  the  pageant,  was  waiting  off  stage — 8  miles 
off  stage — to  make  an  entrance  at  the  proper  dramatic  moment 
amid  a  blasting  fanfare  of  trumpets  and  a  hullaballoo  of  drums. 

But  the  train,  it  seems,  wasn't  merely  loitering.  It  had  other 
things  to  do.  Driscoll  and  his  friends  got  onto  the  train  and  then — 

Arrived  Buffalo  Gap  at  5  p.m.;  Chadron  7:15.  A  number  of  friends  and 
acquaintances  were  on  the  train  including  W.  H.  Parker  and  Ben  Baer. 
At  8:30  saw  the  ladies  off  for  Omaha  in  charge  of  Mr.  West. 

Sunday,  July  4.  Took  train  at  7  a.m.  for  the  Gap.  Saw  Billy  Baird, 
Pete  Lowrey  and  others  on  their  way  to  Rapid. 

Arrived  Rapid  at  noon  on  the  first  train  that  entered  the  city.  .  .  . 
Hottest  day  ever  experienced — 110°  in  shade  at  Rapid.  Dinner  at  Park 
Hotel — its  opening  meal. 

Monday,  July  5.  About  75  people  here  from  Lead  for  celebration  which 
was  badly  managed.  The  hose  race  was  a  fizzle. 

Driscoll  makes  no  mention  of  the  mock  holdup  which  was  to  have 
terrified  the  steam-propelled  tenderfeet  from  the  East.  His  diary 
makes  the  omission  understandable.  The  first  train  arrived  according 
to  schedule  amid  the  prearranged  tumult  and  shouting.  But  the 
passengers  weren't  exactly  gullible.  Lor  the  most  part  they  were 
people  like  Driscoll,  denizens  of  Lead  and  Deadwood  and  Sturgis 
and  Rapid  who  had  ridden  the  train  to  Chadron  so  that  they  might 


ADVANCE      ON      THE      DAKOTAS  111 

come  back  on   the  so-called  maiden  voyage.    ("About   seventy-five 
people  from  Lead  were  here  for  the  celebration.") 

The  Sidney  stage,  with  perfect  timing,  was  in  the  lead  when  the 
locomotive  swung  into  the  curve  at  the  east  end  of  town.  It  was  just 
about  alongside  as  the  train  slowed  down  at  the  platform.  The  fun- 
loving  bandits,  who  have  never  been  properly  identified,  leaped  out 
from  behind  a  shed,  covered  the  bored  driver  with  shotguns,  and  cut 
the  horses  loose.  They  fired  several  shots  in  the  air,  unnoticed  by 
anybody  except  three  customers  who  scrambled  out  of  the  coach 
and  ran  away.  The  train  passengers,  busy  shaking  hands  with 
friends  on  the  reception  committee  and  with  each  other,  apparently 
saw  none  of  this.  The  only  official  notice  taken  of  the  mock  holdup 
came  from  a  doctor  who,  that  afternoon,  cared  for  a  hay  dealer  who 
had  been  cast  as  one  of  the  masked  bandits.  A  horse  had  stepped  on 
his  foot. 


a 


lav/er  2^/ 

THE     GREAT     CAPITAL     FIGHT 


From  its  territorial  days,  South  Dakota's  development  had  gone 
along  side  by  side  with  the  extension  and  expansion  of  two  great 
railway  systems,  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  and  the  Chicago, 
Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul.  Pierre  was  the  western  terminus  of  the 
North  Western's  line  through  a  region  whose  development  had  only 
just  begun.  Mitchell  was  the  terminus  of  the  Chicago,  Saint  Paul, 
Minneapolis  and  Omaha's  road  from  Bigelow,  Minnesota,  through 
Sioux  Falls,  but  it  was  also  the  crossing  of  two  of  the  Milwaukee's 
important  divisions. 

Whether  they  liked  it  or  not,  the  railroads  became  involved  in 
the  long-drawn-out  political  squabble  over  a  capital  site,  not  only 
as  interested  contenders  but  as  its  principal  causes.  Although  the 
conclusion  of  the  capital  fight  takes  us  ahead  into  the  early  1900's, 
the  story  is  worth  relating  here  for  the  light  it  throws  on  American 
politics,  human  nature,  and  certain  aspects  of  railroad  building. 

The  bill  that  established  the  Dakota  Territory  was  passed  in 
March,  1861,  and  President  Lincoln  took  over  the  work  of  appoint- 
ing officers  and  completing  a  territorial  organization.  Captain  John 
Blair  Smith  Todd,  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Lincoln,  owner  of  a  series  of 
trading  posts  through  the  Dakotas,  freely  tendered  his  advice  to  the 
President — and  it  is  possible  that  the  President,  needing  advice, 
listened. 

Dr.  William  Jaync,  who  had  been  Lincoln's  personal  physician 
in  Sjjringfield,  Illinois,  was  appointed  governor,  with  power  to  select 
the  site  for  the  territorial  capital.  Significantly  he  proceeded  di- 
rectly to  Yankton  where,  in  the  summer  of  1861,  he  opened  his  office. 
In  March,  1862,  he  convened  the  Legislature,  which  passed  a  bill 

172 


THE      GREAT      CAPITAL      FIGHT  173 

establishing  Yankton  as  the  permanent  seat  of  government.  Yankton 
retained  this  distinction  during  fifteen  sessions. 

Up  in  the  north,  so  far  away  that  the  settlers  trickling  into  the 
lower  Missouri  Valley  had  hardly  heard  of  it,  was  the  town  Bis- 
marck, named  for  a  German  chancellor  and  brought  to  life  in  the 
early  seventies  by  the  arrival  of  the  Northern  Pacific  railroad.  With 
the  railroad  came  one  Alex  McKenzie,  erstwhile  director  of  track- 
laying,  presentl}'  to  get  a  rating  as  the  first  real  political  boss  of 
Dakota. 

McKenzie  was  a  practical  man.  He  had  traded  extensively  in  ter- 
ritorial lands  and  securities  and  he  was  anxious  to  maintain  the 
value  of  his  holdings.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  Dakota  Territory 
might  operate  more  efficiently  and  so  enhance  the  worth  of  its  lands 
and  paper  if  it  had  a  capital  that  could  be  reached  in  something  less 
than  a  week's  travel.  He  thought,  although  he  didn't  talk  about  it, 
that  Bismarck  might  be  a  good  spot — particularly  now  that  Bis- 
marck had  a  railroad. 

McKenzie — handsome,  affable,  personable,  convincing — easily  got 
the  respect  and  confidence  of  Nehemiah  Ordway,  territorial  governor 
during  this  period.  Ordway  agreed  to  slip  a  bill  through  the  Legis- 
lature authorizing  a  commission  of  nine  members  to  name  a  capital 
site  without  putting  the  matter  to  a  popular  vote.  And  so  it  was 
done  while  the  free  electorate  howled  to  high  heaven. 

The  boss  from  Bismarck  was  thoroughly  unpopular  at  that  mo- 
ment. But  he  had  an  abiding  patience  and  an  unruffled  temper.  He 
knew  that  a  strong  capital-removal  party  had  been  growing  up  in 
the  Legislature  for  years  before  he  broached  his  plan  to  Governor 
Ordway.  Politicians  from  other  towns  in  the  territory  were  openly 
hostile  toward  what  they  called  "the  capital  clique."  Just  as  openly 
the  natives  of  Yankton  in  public  office  combined  forces  against  the 
outlanders. 

So  McKenzie  wandered  about  with  his  capital  commission  stir- 
ring up  Sioux  Falls  against  Pierre,  and  Huron  against  Aberdeen. 
When  he  had  built  up  enough  rancor  he  finally  introduced  the  name 
of  Bismarck.  The  majority  of  the  commissioners  who  voted  with  him 
did  so  because  they  disliked  Bismarck  less  than  Aberdeen,  Huron, 
Pierre,  Sioux  Falls,  Mitchell,  or  Chamberlain. 

Yankton  did  not  accept  the  capital  commission's  findings  without 


174  T  II  E      L  A  S  T      K  K  O  N  T  I  E  n 

a  protest.  There  were  sundry  legal  maneuvers,  but  nevertheless  Bis- 
marck put  up  a  capitol  and  began  to  transact  the  business  of  the 
territory  in  1885.  In  1889,  when  the  Dakotas  were  admitted  to  the 
Union  as  two  states,  McKenzic's  selection  became  the  permanent 
seat  of  the  government  of  North  Dakota. 

In  preparation  for  the  elevation  of  Soutli  Dakota  to  statehood, 
the  territorial  Legislature  in  1885  provided  for  a  constitutional 
convention  to  be  held  in  "that  portion  of  the  territory  south  of  the 
■leth  parallel."  The  enabling  act  provided  that  the  people  were  to 
choose  a  temporary  capital.  Alexandria,  Huron,  Pierre,  Sioux  Falls, 
and  Cliambcrlain  were  candidates.  Huron  won. 

That  didn't  settle  the  matter.  At  the  referendum  provided  by  the 
constitution  in  1889,  Pierre  competed  with  Huron,  Sioux  Falls, 
Watertown,  Mitchell,  and  Chamberlain  for  permanent  designation. 
The  campaign  turned  into  one  of  the  noisiest  wrangles  ever  heard  in 
American  politics. 

Pierre's  proponents  thought  the  capital  should  remain  where  it 
was,  because,  first,  the  town  had  2  miles  of  street  railway — horse- 
drawn  but  reasonably  speedy  and  comfortable;  second,  it  was  the 
site  of  the  Presbyterian  University  (which  later  moved  away)  ;  third, 
it  had  a  large  brick  packing  house;  and  fourth,  it  was  the  geo- 
graphical center  of  the  state. 

Into  the  argument  came  the  Woonsocket  Capital  Investment  Com- 
pany with  an  eye  to  town  lot  sales  and  a  decided  preference  for 
Pierre.  Agents  of  the  company  announced  that  they  controlled  10,- 
000  votes — a  statement  that  was  never  disproved.  These  partisans 
bought  up  land  on  the  edge  of  the  village,  opened  an  office,  and  began 
an  effective  campaign  to  boom  Pierre  as  a  fine  capital  and  also  as  a 
good  real-estate  investment. 

At  this  time  tlie  Locke  Hotel — one  of  the  largest  buildings  of  its 
sort  in  western  South  Dakota — was  under  constniction.  Presently 
festoons  of  electric  lights  were  in  the  streets.  The  lights,  the  hotel, 
and  other  indications  that  somebody  was  willing  to  gamble  on  the 
town's  future  aroused  the  indignation  of  Huron  and  Mitchell.  They 
started  an  immediate  canvass  of  their  districts  and  presently  stored 
up  enough  cash  for  some  fine  experiments  in  corruption.  In  this  they 
were  aided  by  other  towns  in  tiie  James  Valley  which,  realizing  that 
they  were  being  forced  out  of  the  running  by  lack  of  suitable  slush 


THE      GREAT     CAPITAL      FIGHT  175 

funds,  rallied  round  their  neighbors  as  against  little  Pierre  sitting 
complacently  by  its  lonesome  river  and  jingling  the  cash  in  its 
pockets. 

In  July,  1890,  one  learns  from  the  record  of  George  Martin 
Smith,*  both  Pierre  and  Huron  made  preparations  to  entertain  an 
editorial  excursion  from  Pierre  across  the  reservation  to  the  Black 
Hills  and  return.  Pierre  was  obviously  anxious  to  get  a  favorable 
press  for  the  West  River  country.  Huron  was  just  as  anxious  to 
give  the  tourists  a  lot  of  unforgettable  discomfort  in  the  wild  Indian 
country.  The  Pierre  enthusiasts  sent  down  to  St.  Louis  for  twenty- 
five  large  tents  to  house  the  editors  en  route.  They  provided  also  a 
number  of  freight  wagons  to  carry  the  tents,  wire  bedsprings,  mat- 
tresses, and  baggage.  "A  load  of  ice,"  says  Smith,  "was  taken  along 
to  cool  the  lemonade,  mineral  water  and  other  seasonable,  refreshing 
and  harmless  drinks."  The  transportation  committee  also  provided 
thirty  carriages  to  carry  four  passengers  each.  A  billeting  detail 
traveled  ahead  of  the  caravan  to  pick  out  pleasant  camping  places 
en  route.  And  everybody  seemed  well  pleased  with  the  arrange- 
ments. 

The  excursion  ended  at  Rapid  City,  and  the  editors  were  allowed 
to  wander  about  the  hills  as  they  pleased.  In  due  time  they  were  re- 
turned to  the  caravan  and  by  easy  stages  drove  across  the  prairie 
to  Pierre  and  home.  Pierre,  according  to  the  loudest  commentators 
of  the  period,  paid  all  expenses  of  the  trip  both  ways.  Other  towns 
in  the  Missouri  Valley  were  incensed  and  theoretically  shocked. 

Pierre  won  the  election.  But  that  was  only  the  beginning.  Huron's 
political  representatives  began  to  work  for  the  relocation  of  the 
capital  at  the  first  session  of  the  State  Legislature  and  continued 
their  activity  with  increasing  confidence  year  after  year. 

How  effective  the  propaganda  had  been  became  evident  in  1897 
when  a  resolution  was  introduced  in  the  Legislature  amending  the 
constitution  to  read,  "The  permanent  seat  of  government  shall  be 
at  Huron." 

It  failed  to  carry  but  it  started  an  agitation  that  continued 
through  several  sessions.  By  1901  the  proremoval  faction  had  mus- 
tered enough  strength  to  risk  a  vote.  But  once  more  there  were  diffi- 

*  Smith,  G.  M.,  South  Dakota,  Its  History  and  Its  People,  S.  J.  Clarke  Publish- 
ing Company,  Chicago,  1915. 


176  THE      LAST      FnONTIER 

cultics.  Huron's  elocutionists  were  no  longer  alone.  Mitchell  had 
come  forward  with  modest  claims  for  recognition  as  a  possible  capi- 
tal. So  had  Redfieid,  able  victor  in  the  Spink  County  wars.  Just 
around  the  corner  was  Chamberlain  with  similar  ambitions. 

The  leaders  of  the  revolt  against  Pierre  realized  that  a  split  vote 
would  ruin  them.  So  they  suggested  that  the  supporters  of  the  sev- 
eral prospective  capitals  hold  a  caucus  and  agree  to  support  the 
town  that  showed  the  best  prospects.  To  the  surprise  of  the  state's 
newspaper  readers  and  the  chagrin  of  Huron's  weary  workers, 
Mitchell  won  in  the  caucus. 

At  the  closing  session  of  the  Legislature,  a  resolution  was  intro- 
duced submitting  an  amendment  to  the  constitution  changing  the 
capital  from  Pierre  to  Mitchell.  It  provoked  a  long  filibuster  but 
eventually  passed  the  House.  The  Pierre  faction  was  strong  enough 
to  defeat  it  in  the  Senate  the  next  day. 

In  190.3  the  capital  transfer  came  up  again,  attended  by  such 
vociferous  claques,  pro  and  con,  that  it  seemed  to  be  the  only  issue 
of  any  importance  in  the  state — as  indeed  it  turned  out  to  bo.  The 
backers  of  the  status  quo  decided  there  would  be  no  peace  in  the 
Legislature  until  the  matter  was  put  to  a  popular  vote  and  they 
offered  little  opposition  as  the  removal  bill  swept  througli  both 
Houses. 

And  thus  the  stage  was  set  for  one  of  the  most  fantastic  perform- 
ances ever  seen  in  American  politics. 


C/u 


'lapter  22 

PICNICS     AND     EXCURSIONS 


Looking  back  at  the  "Great  Capital  Fight"  as  the  South  Dakota 
newspapers  called  it,  you  find  it  difficult  to  believe  that  the  issues 
involved  were  really  important  enough  to  justify  the  high  blood 
pressure  they  brought  to  an  entire  state.  People  who  had  never  been 
in  Pierre  or  Mitchell  either  and  would  have  been  hard  put  to  de- 
scribe their  whereabouts  suddenly  became  avid  partisans.  Calm 
souls,  who  never  had  known  what  a  capital  was  for  or  cared  two 
hoots  where  it  functioned,  presently  were  arguing  with  the  logic  and 
finesse  of  Arabs  embarked  on  a  jihad.  To  unsmiling  men  haranguing 
the  tense  crowds  in  a  couple  of  hundred  Odd  Fellows'  Halls  in  a 
couple  of  hundred  South  Dakota  towns,  the  whole  business  betokened 
a  great  public  awakening.  To  tired  observers  who  followed  the  popu- 
lace in  its  gyrations  for  six  or  seven  months,  it  looked  like  a  sort  of 
millennial  clambake — and  that,  one  guesses,  is  what  it  most  nearly 
was. 

For  a  year  after  the  Legislature  decided  to  submit  the  matter  to 
a  referendum,  preparations  for  listening  to  the  voice  of  the  sovereign 
people  went  on  with  commendable  calm  and  dignity.  Maybe,  after  a 
while,  the  crusade  was  to  turn  into  an  all-clown  circus.  But  in  its 
early  days  at  least  it  was  previewed  as  a  rite  of  great  significance, 
like  the  freeing  of  the  slaves  or  the  crossing  of  the  Red  Sea. 

The  pattern  of  propaganda  disclosed  in  the  preliminaries  was  re- 
maikably  complete.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  has  been  used  with  little 
change  in  two  more  recent  wars  of  greater  magnitude.  During  1903 
teams  of  "convincers"  roamed  about  the  state  visiting  editors  and 
petitioning  support.  They  scattered  a  blizzard  of  prepared  editorials 
concerning  the  justice  and  urgency  of  their  cause.  They  placed  a 
little  advertising — but  not  much — setting  forth  the  advantages  of 

177 


178  T  II  E      L  A  ST      F  It  O  N  T  I  E  n 

Pierre — or  Mitcliell — over  all  the  other  cities  in  the  world:  Pierre, 
for  exiiiiiple,  was  more  serious-minded  than  Paris;  Mitchell  was  easier 
to  get  about  in  than  London.  But,  of  course,  these  arguments  were 
advanced  only  one  at  a  time  and  b\'  one  side  at  a  time. 

They  ran  little  historical  contests  in  the  schools — a  nice  prize  for 
the  best  essay  on  the  relationship  between  truth  or  loyalty  or  beauty 
and  the  location  of  state  capitals.  The  tenor  of  the  essays  might  de- 
pend on  which  side  was  offering  the  prize,  and  though  they  were  all 
printed  in  one  or  another  of  the  local  newspapers  it  seems  doubtful 
that  they  influenced  many  votes.  On  the  other  hand  they  kept  things 
fairly  well  stirred  up  and  started  family  arguments  that  are  not 
yet  finished. 

The  missionaries  from  Mitchell  and  Pierre  were  considerably 
handicapped  by  communication  lacks.  Moving-picture  theaters  where 
an  orator  with  a  message  could  always  get  permission  to  bore  the 
audience  for  five  minutes  had  not  yet  come  into  being.  Radio  hadn't 
yet  been  thought  of  even  by  Jules  Verne.  But  the  propaganda  got 
around  just  the  same. 

"A  private  talk  with  a  good  politician  is  worth  half  a  dozen 
Fourth  of  July  orations,"  old  Pat  Kclleher  of  Rapid  City  once  ob- 
served on  this  subject.  And  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  he  knew 
what  he  was  talking  about.  Much  of  that  restless  year  was  spent  in 
conferences  between  earnest  workers  and  very  important  personages. 
It  was  thought,  of  course,  that  each  good  politician,  once  shown 
where  his  duty  lay,  would  pass  on  the  tidings  to  his  constituents — 
that  each  important  person  could  bring  influence  to  bear  on  unde- 
cided voters  in  their  own  communities.  These  subagents  took  up  their 
work  quietly  and  for  a  long  time  avoided  public  disagreement  with 
rival  "influencers"  similarly  engaged.  So  intramural  friction  didn't 
become  noticeable  in  South  Dakota's  urban  areas  until  190-i.  By 
that  time  the  orators  were  hiring  halls  and  calling  each  other  fight- 
ing names.  The  newspapers  had  quit  printing  little  essays  on  patriot- 
ism and  truth  and  beauty  and  were  substituting  invective  about  "The 
Capital  Crime!"  "The  Shame  of  South  Dakota!"  "The  Great  Be- 
trayal !"  Both  factions  presented  virtually  the  same  editorials  with 
different  names. 

For  a  time  the  two  quietest  towns  in  the  state  appear  to  have  been 
Mitchell  and  Pierre.  Everybody  in  those  communities  knew  how  he 


PICNICS     AND      EXCURSIONS  179 

was  going  to  vote,  so  there  was  no  need  for  argument.  But  elsewhere 
the  tension  began  to  increase  noticeably.  Over  in  Sioux  Falls  two 
visitors  from  New  York,  who  had  come  to  South  Dakota  looking  for 
quick  divorces,  got  into  a  fist  fight  over  the  capital  question  in  the 
Cataract  Hotel  bar.  In  Hot  Springs  a  worried  husband  complained 
to  the  authorities  that  his  wife,  a  native  of  Mitchell,  had  barred  the 
door  to  him  because  he  favored  Pierre.  And  there  was  a  lot  of  minor 
unpleasantness  at  Sunday-school  picnics,  school-board  meetings, 
high  school  debates,  and  family  reunions.  Save  for  the  business  of 
locating  the  capital,  there  was  little  political  activity  in  the  state 
that  year — there  wasn't  room  for  it. 

It  occurred  to  somebody  on  one  of  the  railroads  that  a  cheer  leader 
might  be  more  efficient  if  he  knew  what  he  was  cheering  for.  So  a 
junket  was  arranged  to  carry  a  load  of  Very  Important  People  to 
whatever  capital  site  that  railroad  reached.  There  was  no  Federal 
law  against  the  issuance  of  passes  in  those  days — which  turned  out 
to  be  unfortunate  for  both  contenders.  If  one  line  showed  favors  to 
important  people,  then  obviously  the  other  line  had  to  be  just  as 
gracious.  So  another  trainload  of  prominent  citizens  was  hauled  to 
another  capital  site.  And  then,  of  course,  there  were  other  trainloads, 
because  the  number  of  important  citizens  in  any  community  is  vir- 
tually unlimited. 

At  first  these  proceedings  were  carried  out  with  no  fanfare.  It 
is  good  business  psychology  to  let  a  special  customer  feel  that  he  is 
getting  special  attention.  But  the  decorum  didn't  last  long.  V.I.P.'s 
are  seldom  reticent  about  the  wonderful  things  that  happen  to  them. 
So  they  went  home  and  told  their  less  favored  neighbors  where  they 
had  been. 

In  great  indignation  the  slighted  ones  stormed  the  railroad  offices. 
\Miy  should  Mr.  Box  get  a  free  ride  to  Pierre  or  Mitchell  when  Mr. 
Cox  was  overlooked?  Wasn't  Mr.  Cox's  voice  in  the  capital  site  selec- 
tion just  as  important  as  his  neighbor's?  Was  something  going  to  be 
done  to  wipe  out  this  deliberate  insult?  It  was.  More  passes  were 
poured  into  the  hills.  New  regiments  of  the  electorate  were  hauled 
hundreds  of  miles  to  look  at  whatever  town  they  were  supposed  to 
vote  for.  Citizens  who  lived  in  communities  served  by  both  the  North 
Western  and  the  Milwaukee  were  singularly  blessed — they  got  to 
visit  both  towns. 


1  80  T  H  E      L  A  S  T      F  U  O  N  T  I  E  R 

Word  of  all  this  travel  got  around.  During  the  first  fiw  months 
of  the  free  excursions  only  voters  had  been  honored.  The  women 
and  children  who  had  no  vote  stayed  at  home.  So  presently  there  was 
a  new  wave  of  indication  from  a  bloc  whose  influence  with  the  free 
electors  could  not  very  well  be  denied.  More  passenger  cars  were 
deadheaded  into  South  Dakota.  More  passes  drifted  over  the  Mis- 
souri Valley  like  leaves  before  a  high  wind. 

Everybody  rode  who  could  get  to  a  railroad  station — grand- 
fathers, grandmothers,  wives,  daughters,  and  babes  in  arms.  They 
rode  not  only  to  Pierre  and  Mitchell  and  way  points  but  to  other 
possible  capital  sites  such  as  St.  Louis,  Chicago,  and  Minneapolis. 
And,  of  a  sudden,  all  bitterness  vanished.  As  Kingsbury  reported  it: 

South  Dakota  simply  suspended  business  and  went  on  a  grand  sixty 
days'  picnic.  Threshers  stood  unfed  in  the  fields  among  the  grain  shocks; 
plows  rusted  in  the  furrows  and  potatoes  crowded  undug  in  their  hills. 
Merchants  locked  their  doors  and  schools  closed  to  permit  all  the  people 
to  visit  the  rival  cities.  It  was  a  good-natured  state-wide  campaign  with 
no  feature  of  particular  interest  save  the  gay  carnival  of  the  people. 

\Miatever  else  you  may  say  about  it,  the  people  certainly  had  a 
good  time. 

What  had  started  out  as  a  free  train  ride  became  a  series  of  all- 
expense  toui's.  The  village  of  Pierre,  with  a  population  of  less  than 
2,000,  had  to  find  lodging  and  food  for  some  5,000  guests  every  day 
for  weeks  on  end.  Hotel  personnel  ran  about  frantically  trying  to 
indicate  to  the  visitors  that  a  250  per  cent  increase  in  population 
was  purely  normal.  Pierre  took  its  nonpaying  customers  for  rides 
on  Missouri  River  steamboats.  Mitchell,  lacking  steamboats,  fur- 
nished some  circus  acts.  At  every  way  station  in  South  Dakota, 
pretty  girls  distributed  campaign  badges  made  out  of  silk  and  satin 
ribbon.  Enough  of  these  gay  streamers  were  made  up  to  give  the 
state  thousands  of  patcliwork  quilts  and  pillows,  some  of  which  still 
survive  in  the  State  Museum  at  Pierre. 

The  United  States  had  never  before  seen  such  a  spectacle  as  the 
capital  fight  and  probably  never  will  again.  Federal  laws  about  the 
distribution  of  passes  undoubtedly  will  prevent  railroad  rivalry  from 
ever  again  approaching  such  a  state  of  reckless  exuberance. 

To  this  generation,  brought  up  in  the  ways  of  the  Interstate  Com- 


PICNICS      AND      EXCURSIONS  181 

merce  Commission,  it  seems  natural  to  pay  one's  fare  in  advance  of 
a  railroad  ride.  So  universal  is  the  acceptance  of  this  idea  that  the 
entire  West  River  country  still  laughs  over  the  logic  of  Nels  Larson 
who  was  a  section  hand  in  the  gay  days  of  190-1. 

Larson,  who  had  retired,  came  one  day  to  his  local  station  agent 
to  ask  for  transportation  to  Chicago.  The  agent  pointed  out  that 
Nels  was  no  longer  entitled  to  passes  and  tried  to  explain. 

"Suppose  you  were  driving  a  wagon  and  somebody  asked  you  to 
haul  him  free  in  your  wagon,  what  would  you  think  about  that?" 

"Well,"  answered  Larson,  "I  certainly  wouldn't  refuse  him  if  he 
was  going  my  way.  .   .   ." 

Whether  the  yarn  is  old  or  new  makes  no  difference.  The  point  is 
that  forty-odd  years  ago  there  would  have  been  nothing  unusual 
enough  about  it  to  make  it  funny.  Of  course,  railroads  were  expected 
to  give  j'ou  free  passes  in  those  days — and  of  course  every  train  was 
going  your  way  no  matter  what  way  you  were  going. 

Observers  outside  the  state  probably  wondered  if  South  Dakota's 
editors  were  ever  going  to  speak  to  one  another  again.  The  argument 
had  got  so  far  out  of  hand  that  by  the  end  of  July,  1904,  most  every 
newspaper  Moses  was  able  to  see  the  true  promised  land  only  in  the 
capital  site  he  favored  himself.  All  the  rest  of  the  state,  apparently, 
was  a  howling  wilderness. 

The  Rapid  City  Journal  of  July  6,  1904,  was  less  excited  than  the 
rest: 

Not  one  man  in  a  hundred  in  this  State  ever  has  actual  business  at  the 
State  capital  and  the  hundredth  man  usually  goes  on  a  pass.  To  judge 
from  the  statements  of  the  iMitchell  organs,  you  would  think  that  every 
man,  woman  and  child  in  South  Dakota  made  a  religious  pilgrimage  to 
the  State  capital  every  year,  and  that  a  dollar  or  two  more  in  the  expense 
of  getting  there  would  work  a  great  hardship  upon  the  people  of  our 
commonwealth. 

Other  commentators  came  closer  to  apoplexy ;  as,  for  example,  the 
Sioua:  Critic  of  July,  1904: 

If  the  South  Dakotan  is  a  fair  man,  he  does  not  believe  in  deceit,  hy- 
pocrisy and  tall  timber  lying.  He  doesn't  want  the  State  settled  up  if 
to  do  it  we  must  misrepresent  and  bamboozle  poor  settlers  into  squatting 
upon  those  alkali  hills  among  those  prairie  dog  towns. 


182  THELASTFKONTIEU 

The  Lcstervillc  Ledger  of  July,  190t,  coiiiiiiuiitod: 

Whenever  you  meet  a  man  that  favors  Pierre  for  the  capital,  you  will 
know  that  he  has  either  seen  the  Pierre  Boodle  Board  of  Trade  or  he  is 
from  Yankton.  If  he  is  from  Yankton,  he  is  for  Pierre  because  he  is  sore 
at  Mitchell;  and  if  he  is  not  from  Yankton  and  favors  Pierre  he  has 
been  told  he  is  a  good  fellow  and  has  been  given  a  little  coin  to  treat 
his  friends  and  make  votes  for  Pierre. 

The  Lesterville  piece  was  re])iiiite(l  on  July  16  by  the  Aberdeen 
News  witli  tliis  comment : 

Such  arguments  as  the  above  may  cause  the  people  of  South  Dakota 
to  rush  to  the  polls  to  endorse  them  by  voting  for  Mitchell,  but  they  are 
far  more  likely  to  arouse  a  just  resentment  against  the  men  who  thus 
vilify  half  of  the  State  for  purely  selfish  purposes. 

Tiiat  same  month  the  Fort  Pierre  Fair  Play,  aroused  by  the  harsh 
criticism  of  the  West  River  country,  put  out  this  information : 

Word  has  just  been  received  from  Professor  Carpenter  that  the  gumbo 
shale  and  clay  near  here  are  the  finest  material  in  the  world  for  the  manu- 
facture of  Portland  cement  and  that  samples  of  the  finished  product  will 
be  delivered  soon. 

The  Mitchell  RepiihJiran  observed  in  answer : 

They  must  be  a  queer  kind  of  agricultural  ])roduets  that  will  grow  in 
soil  best  suited  to  the  making  of  cement  blocks. 

And  so  it  went,  a  confusion  of  voices  that  got  louder  and  more 
bitter  every  day. 

And  the  capital  fight,  as  they  called  this  weird  exhibition — oli, 
yes,  the  capital  figlit. 

Well,  Pierre  won  by  a  large  majority,  put  up  a  statehouse,  and 
seems  fairly  well  established  as  a  permanent  seat  of  government. 
Nobody  has  suggested  any  change  since  the  votes  were  counted. 

And,  in  case  you  miglit  like  to  know  what  happens  when  victory 
comes  to  the  hard-working  campaigner,  well,  here  it  is  as  reported 
by  a  delirious  eyewitness  : 

Finally  the  election  was  held.  The  capital  stayed  where  it  was.  Pierre 
had  wisely  anticipated  this  victory  and  had  prepared  for  an  elaborate 
celebration.  When  the  long  train  pulled  into  the  station  that  evening,  500 


Grand-daddy  of  all  the  locomotive  giants  that  make  Chicago  their  home  today 
is  the  Pioneer,  doughty  little  engine  that  blazed  the  rail  trail  from  the  Windy 
Citv  to  the  West  in  184.8. 


Chicago's  first  r,iilici,iii  sl^ilmii,  l>iiill  in  ISIS  by  the  Galena  anil  ('lilca^o  rnioii, 
was  a  quaint  wootlen  structure  with  a  tower  from  which  the  railroad  president 
could  watch  for  incoming  trains. 


Fifth  ill  the  .series  of  North  AVestern's  Chi<-af;o  stations  was  this  jirctiiil  lous 
arch-roofed  l)uil{ling  of  1836,  the  Kiiizie  Street  Depot,  through  which  passed 
thousands  of  settlers,  traders,  Indians,  and  fortune  hunters  into  tlie  booming 
West. 


Under  the  vaull 
of  baggage,  sty 
frontier. 


llcl  sll 


•il  of  tlie  Kinzie  Street  Depot  at  train  time  was  a  melange 
111  tongues — the  great  meeting  place  of  civilization  and 


"Wells  Street  station  of  1881,  mosi 
imposing  of  Chicago's  railroa<l 
terminals  of  the  past,  was  tin- 
great  gateway  to  the  jNIiddle 
AVest's  agricultural  wealth  for  a 
horde  of  European  immigrants. 
(For  history  of  stations  see 
AppendLx.) 


r^^^^^ 


^^^ 


More  than  thirty  nullion  [iit-chis  pass  aimnally  tliroui;h  North  Western's 
present  Chicago  terminal,  a  giant  edifice  of  granite  covering  three  city  blocks. 
As  many  as  2C0  trains  arrive  and  depart  daily. 


.^i^  <%;; 


>^-         ~   V- 


i'lif  Thunder  pauses  on  the  river  hriilj^e  at  llockl'onl,  IlliMoi>.  in  Ihi^T.  'llii-.  \\;i> 
a  period  of  locomotives  res|)lendeut  in  hrifjlit  jtaiiit  and  highly  polished  brass. 
Almost  all  were  known  hv  name. 


Supplanted  in  favor  by  more  luoilrrn  cnniiio,  the  I'luiinr  in  \Si,'.\  earned  lier 
keep  in  a  construction  train.  A  few  years  later  she  was  ])ermaneully  retncd 
with  a  record  of  some  forty  years  of  service. 


'^JIS. 


The  J.  B.  Turner  of  18G7  proudly  carried  tlie  name  and  portrait  of  an  early 
president  of  the  railroad  through  the  wilderness  to  Wisconsin's  towns  and 
lumber  camps. 


The  famed  Onrlaml  Limited  as  it  appeared  in  190.").  .\s  early  as  1895  it  operated 
as  an  all-ruUman  luxury  train  between  Chicago  and  San  Francisco.  A  modern 
counterpart  still  travels  the  same  route. 


Railroiid  music  of  ninety  years 
afio.  Title  page  of  Xortli  fi'etilrrn 
liailira!/  I'olka,  tomijoseil  in  18o!) 
and  detiicaled  to  President  Ogden 
and  distinguislied  gnests  who 
made  excursion  over  newly  laid 
lines  in  Wisconsin.  As  catchy  as 
modern  jjolkas,  it  has  no  lyrics. 


North  Western  in  the  eighties 
already  was  busy  ufivertising  the 
attractions  of  the  Middle  West's 
famed  North  Wooils,  where  trav- 
elers came  with  jiarasols,  deco- 
rum, and  genteel  manners  of  tlic 
times.  Annual  editions  of  "Sum- 
mer Outings"  travel  folders  are 
still  issued  liv  the  railroad. 


^1^ 


lis  T  -  IX-l^ci 


A  fantastic  selection  of  foofls  and 
unheard-of  luxury  came  to  the 
West  in  1877  when  the  railroad 
introduced  the  fabulous  Pullman 
hotel  cars.  The  menu  included 
thirty  main  courses  and  twenty- 
fi\e  desserts.  Fine  service  ex- 
tended to  highly  polished  cus- 
pidors in  the  aisles. 


CHICAGO  &  NORTH-  WESTERN  RAIL  WA  Y. 


IK  ini>i;i<i  \i.  iii«;ii  m:sh. 


§:?UJJ>/JtJn:luSU^;5i^ 


Tin'«li<y  ■""/   ri}iiis,i:,y.  January  Hd  tiiul    /r/i,   tsTif, 


AMien  the  Grand  Duke  of  Russia  toured  America  in  187'2,  the  railroad  prepared 
a  private  timetable  to  guide  the  nobleman  as  his  special  train  took  him  through 
strange  country. 


2,000,000 


FARMS  of  Fertile  Prairie  Lands 
to  be  had  Free  of  Cost 


rie««  Land*  t^ 


30  Millions  ^^  Acres 


Of  dw  MaM  Praduethi*  Grain 


World.    Tha  aiiachad  Map  thows  tha  LocaUon  of  i^aaa  Landa. 


miciso  k  llortl);f  estern  R'r 

"nZL"  UHD  OUTEICT~Or  CEITEIL  DilOTi- 


H*r*  I*  one   vou   c>n   (el   elmplv    bv    occupying  It.      It  will  be  noticed  that  the 


Northwestern 


N«»  Tw«   Lin**  ol   Ro*d   that   run   through  to   these   Lande.       It   is   the   only    Rail    Road   that   reaches   them. 

OBTH  W£STEBH 


HOMT    TO    GET   THEI^E 


AT  craicAoo  von  can  Birr  tickets  at 

tij  CUKE  ynUXT:  75  CANAL  STREET,  Corner  of  UiAma;  at  Ihe  WELLS  STREET  DEPOT,  on  Kinzie  Street,  north 
of  Wfib  SiTrt  Bn.lge:  inH  it  KINZIE  STREET  DEPOT,  on  the  Comer  of  Kinzie  and  Cuul  Streets. 

^^B^^H^^V^k       IF^aV     ^^^V^F^HT^^^      "Voxi    cm\    not    sot    to   tlTo    Z~,/«r>cls   Vjy   Unll 

€llil<Migo  A  Blortli*  Western  R^y. 

Free  land  for  lioniestejulers  was  the  clarion  call  sent  out  by  the  railroad  ui  the 
seventies  and  early  eighties.  I'osters  were  put  up  everj-where,  even  in  Europe, 
for  the  laiid-hiiiiury  to  read  and  heed. 


XT   XS   TIXE    BEST    T^NE    FFIOBI    CHCICACiO    TO 

COUNCIL  BLUFFS 


SAN  FRANCISCO 


AND  ALL  POINTS  WEST 


?ss  skid  Fiimiie  tlik  Lise  ^u::; 

It   ia    tlie    Shortest,    Quickest 

and  Best. 
Zta   Hotel    Cirs    are    the    best 

ever  built. 
Zta  road  bed   and  bridges  are 

p«rf»ot. 
Its  rates  of  fare  are  as  I017  as 

the  lowest. 
Ib   all   improvements  it  leads 

its  competitors. 
Zt  riuis  is  an  almost  air  line 

to  the  Misaonri  River. 


h  ihoali  Pi!r::i:5  tik  lias  \v.m 

It  aloae  runs  Hotel  Cars  't^est 
of  Chicago. 

It  has  the  Best  of  Steel 
Tracks. 

Its  Passenger  Coaches  arc  mod- 
ern and  unsurpassed. 

By  it  you  can  be  ticketed  to 
all  Western  Points. 

It  is  by  all  odds  the  best 
Western  Road. 

Its  trains  are  always  on  time. 
and  do  not  miss  connections. 


n  If- 


i'oi'TJi     \  i^    wr 


rtCRN  .TRTTNTK    LINIC 


■TMDnil/^IJ     irtf*ieCrC    vis   thi>   Route   to   all    WESTERN    POINTS,   ran    I 
I  nnWUVarl      ■  l\#nK  I  O  coupon  Ticket   Office  In  the  United   States 


riiacc   H<.!e!  nf-!    Slci.  f --g  Cars  on  this  Line    alone? 


».  ».  Mwn,         V.  M.  MIK, 


W.  H.  STEKKTT. 


Ill  liS7!)  the  luilruiul's  allveI•li.■^iug  was  a,^  agyre.N.>ivo  a>  cuuld  lie  luuml  anywhere. 
It  (lid  not  hesitate  to  give  every  possible  reason  why  it,  and  it  alone,  provided 
the  only  proper  transportation  to  the  West. 


Kowlaml   L.    Williams,    t(Ml:i\'>    picsiilfiit    of   the 
North  Western  .system. 


Kidv  Sliciicy,  wiio  was  nwar.lc.i  for  licv  licrnism  l,y  iM-iiii;  appointed  station 
agent  at  Moinf^ona,  Iowa,  was  almost  forgoLlen  by  \wv  once  adoring  pnhlic 
when  she  posed  for  this  picture  in  1904. 


Greatest  storm  in  North  AVostern's  history  was  in  1880-1881,  when  diamond- 
stackers  worked  all  winter  in  sonthern  Minnesota  to  break  through  a  snowfall 
reported  "14  feet  deep  on  the  leveL" 


over  a  new  North  Western  roundli^ 
was  operated  by  hand. 


it   Waseca,  Minnesota.  The  lurnt.ible 


A  far  cry  from  the  scene  on  the  opposite  page  is  this  modern  North  AVestem 
streamliner  servicing  yard  in  Chicago,  where  millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  sleek, 
colorfvil  passenger  trains  stop  briefly  each  day  for  complete  grooming  before 
hitting  the  road  again.  In  left  foreground  is  a  mechanical  car  washer,  which 
washes  cars  at  the  rate  of  almost  one  a  minute. 


^UMpt****    •fcA.TKaqWIWBI 

BWi^^^^^PMBBHB^BUpr^Wpy^WBBHB^WIC^MBP 

9Hi 

^^^^■^^^^        '     ^  '* 

:'>.^ 

IJinl  s  eye  view  of  part  of  Proviso  yard,  largest  freicht  classificatioM  yard  of  its 
kind  in  the  world.  A  train  of  freight  cars  7  miles  long  can  fit  in  the  huge  freight 
house  in  center  background. 


The  streamliner  era  includes  more  than  diesel  locomotives  on  the  Xortli  Western, 
which  has  a  fleet  of  these  fast  powerful  "steamliners"  pulling  long  trains  over 
its  main  line  to  the  West. 


The  City  of  Los  Angeles,  one  of  the  railway's  fast  luxury  trains,  as  it  glides  out 
of  Chicago  in  early  evening  for  its  dash  to  the  west  coast  in  less  than  forty  hours. 


Hu&Aui' 

Mk' 

m 

|PH|i 

i    ■ 

.  A 

i"r_..  .  .^^^^ 

^^H^^^IP  ^^^^H 

1  -"^yH 

z^^   Ig 

■  '~4l^^^^^ 

^^^Essrr— ^ 

"i^^^Ml 

'I^^^" 

wSBr  tfStWK?' 

IV^Ti'^ 

EP^    r.M 

BQ^ISr       jH^Hff'  V^K^^Kw^^ 

^e  .i.^m 

/^r    %\vn; 

^  S!uSK§     ^^^v 

/  ^,t~'           \  W  \S.^ 

'"\                      ■    VJ<'%StU^ 

^l&W  M  1 

V      t^I^ 

Pride  of  tlic  Xortli  Western  toilav'  is  the  Twin  Cities  },IH),  one  of  u  fleet  of  similar 
streamliners  wliicli  operate  between  Chicago  and  nuiny  niidwestern  cities  on 
fast  daytime  seliedules. 


North  ^\e.sleln  as  it  starteil  ont  a  century  ago  and  as  it  is  today  is  the  story 
told  in  this  meeting  of  tlie  rioiwi'r  of  18-18  and  a  jOO  streamliner  of  1948. 


PICNICS     AND      EXCURSIONS  183 

people  stepped  off  amid  cheers  and  joyous  acclamations,  waving  banners 
on  which  were  emblazoned  the  words,  "Pierre  Is  the  Capital."  At  once 
the  whole  population  turned  out  and  bedlam  for  a  season  reigned.  Bells 
were  tolled,  engine  whistles  were  blown,  guns  were  shot  off,  cannons  were 
fired,  and  a  genuine  feast  of  delight  swept  the  young  city  for  thirty  min- 
utes. The  leading  men  were  called  out,  both  in  the  street  and  at  the  opera 
house  and  compelled  to  give  voice  to  the  joy  that  possessed  the  city. 

A  large  number  of  Two  Kettle's  Indian  band  was  encamped  on  the 
river  and  they  too  soon  joined  in  the  revelry  with  an  energy  that  dwarfed 
the  transports  of  the  whites.  But  their  enthusiasm  was  forgiven  and  even 
applauded  under  the  extraordinary  circumstances.  At  night  the  revelry 
was  continued  with  fireworks,  torches,  bonfires  and  dancing  in  the  streets. 

People  don't  seem  to  care  as  much  about  where  capitals  are  lo- 
cated as  they  once  did  and  the  cost  of  a  state-wide  fiesta  nowadays 
would  run  to  something  like  five  cents  the  mile. 


■te'.rv^  y  C^^^tfjK.' 


J/ art  Qjix 


PALACE     CARS,     HEROES 
AND     BLIZZARDS 


lapter  23 

LUXURIOUS     TRAVEL 


The  railway  sleeper  of  the  late  fifties  was  not  much  better  than 
the  makeshifts  of  the  tliirties  and  forties;  just  bunks  and  shelves 
with  narrow  mattresses,  stuffed,  in  the  opinion  of  most  travelers, 
with  granite  rocks ;  unaired  blankets,  unlaundered  sheets — if  any. 
Your  carpetbag  was  your  pillow.  A  stern  warning  was  there  for  all 
to  see: 

Passengers  will  remove  their  boots  before  getting  into  their  berths. 

There  were  no  curtains,  no  divisions — just  no  privacy  whatso- 
ever. Then  along  came  George  M.  Pullman ! 

The  reader  may  remember  Pullman  as  the  young  man  who  helped 
put  what  is  now  the  Chicago  Loop  on  stilts  to  halt  its  slow  but  sure 
descent  into  the  lake.  With  the  money  he  had  made  jacking  up  Chi- 
cago, he  determined  to  build  comfortable  sleejiing  cars  for  the  rail- 
roads and  to  put  them  on  the  tracks  on  a  sort  of  royalty  basis.  The 
first  man  approached  on  the  matter  was  John  B.  Turner,  president 
of  the  Galena,  who  was  contacted  by  Benjamin  Field,  attorney  for 
Pullman,  and  the  latter's  associate,  Norman  Field.  This  interview 
took  place  on  April  6,  1858,  and  a  contract  was  drawn  up  between 
the  Galena  and  George  M.  Pullman,  Norman  Field,  and  Benjamin 
Field,  whereby  these  three  associates  were  to  furnish  the  Galena 
with  sleeping  cars  to  run  between  Chicago  and  Freeport  and  Du- 
buque and  "between  Lake  Michigan  and  the  Mississippi  River." 
According  to  North  Western  Historian  W.  H.  Stennett,  these  cars 
were  placed  in  service  as  soon  as  the  contract  was  executed.*  But, 
according  to  the  Pullman  Company,  the  contract  was  signed  and 

*  Stennett,  \V.  H.,  Yesterday  aiid  Toclai/  (A  History  of  the  C  &  N  W). 
187 


188  PALACE      CARS,      HEROES,      AND      BLIZZARDS 

sealed — but  the  cars  were  never  delivered.*  Later  in  the  year  Pull- 
man, in  the  shops  of  the  Chicago  and  Alton  Railroad  at  Blooniing- 
ton,  remodeled  a  passenger  car  of  that  line  into  a  sleeper.  This  was 
placed  on  the  rails  as  the  first  Pullman  car.  It  would  appear,  how- 
ever, that  if  the  North  Western — through  the  Galena — cannot  claim 
the  first  Pullman,  it  can  claim  the  first  encouragement  to  the  inven- 
tor through  a  contract. 

However,  there  can  be  no  dispute  over  the  fact  that  Pullman  bor- 
rowed from  the  Galena  wlieii  lie  actually  launched  his  first  "real" 
Pullman  sleeper;  this  luxurious  affair — as  of  those  days — cost 
$21,178  and  was  constructed  in  the  shops  of  the  Chicago  and  Alton; 
but  Pullman  named  it  the  Pioneer — already  the  name  of  the  Galena's 
first  locomotive.  Begun  in  the  summer  of  ISG-i,  it  was  completed  in 
]March,  1865,  and  was  being  readied  for  a  triumphal  debut  when  the 
news  was  flashed  around  the  world  that  Abraham  Lincoln  had  been 
assassinated  by  John  Wilkes  Booth. 

The  Pullman  Pioneer's  first  job  was  not  as  joyful  and  triumphant 
as  that  of  the  Galena's  Pioneer.  The  luxury  car  was  given  the  sad 
honor  of  carrying  the  martyred  Emancipator  on  his  last  journey 
from  Chicago  to  Springfield. 

W^ell,  anyway,  you  could  get  almost  anything  you  needed  for  a 
light  snack  in  those  days.  Pullman  hotel  cars  were  put  into  service 
by  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  in  1877.  No  other  road 
ran  them  west  of  Chicago,  which  probably  caused  a  great  deal  of 
hardship.  They  left  Chicago  at  10 :30  a.m.  and  arrived  in  Omaha  at 
10  A.M.  the  next  day.  W.  H.  Stennett,  in  his  early  history  of  the 
North  Western,  says  that  they  attracted  travelers  to  the  road  from 
all  over  the  world — and  indeed  they  might. 

Herewith  is  a  copy  of  the  standard  bih  of  fare: 

•  From  the  records  of  the  Pullman  Company. 


LUXURIOUS     TRAVEL 


189 


Beverage 

Tea 
Coffee 
Chocolate 
Iced  Milk 

Soup 

Beef 

Mock  Turtle 

Fish 

White  Fish,  Broiled 
Broiled  Mackerel 
Boiled  Trout,  Cream 

Sauce 
Fish  Balls 

Broiled 

Sirloin  Steak 
Tenderloin  Steak 
Tenderloin  Steak  with 

Mushrooms 
Porterhouse  Steak 
Porterhouse   Steak 

with  Mushrooms 
Mutton  Chops,  Plain 
Mutton  Chops,  with 

Tomato  Sauce 
Lamb  Chops,  Plain 
Lamb  Chops,  with 

Mint  Sauce 
Venison  Steak,  with 

Jelly 
Veal  Cutlets,  Breaded 
Ham 
Breakfast  Bacon 


DINNER 

Sweetbreads 
Sweetbreads  with 

French  Peas 
Sweetbreads  with 

Mushrooms 
Spring  Chicken, 

Whole 
Spring  Chicken,  Half 

Roast 

Sirloin  Beef 
Turkey,  Cranberry 

Sauce 
Saddle  &  Southdown 

Mutton 
Lamb 

Chicken,  Brown  Sauce 
Loin  of  Veal,  Stuffed 

Boiled 

Leg  of  Mutton,  Caper 

Sauce 
Ham,  Champagne 

Sauce 

Game 

Prairie  Chicken 
Pheasant 
Snipe  on  Toast 
Quail  on  Toast 
Golden  Plover  on 

Toast 
Blue  Winged  Teal 
Woodcock  on  Toast 
Broiled  Pigeon 
Mallard  Duck 


Pigeon 

Canvas  Back  Duck 

Cold 

Boiled  Ham 

Boiled  Tongue 

Chicken 

Pressed  Corned  Beef 

Roast  Beef 

Sardines 

Pork  and  Beans 

Lobster 

Turkey 

Potted  Game 


Pork  and  Beans, 

Yankee  Style 
Beef  Pot  Pie,  Family 

Style 
Chicken  Croquettes 

Vegetables 

Green  Corn 
Stewed  Tomatoes 
Stewed  Potatoes 
Sweet  Potatoes 
Lima  Beans 
French  Peas 
Stewed  Mushrooms 
Fried  Potatoes 
Asparagus 
Lyonnaise  Potatoes 
New  Beets 
Onions 
Cabbage 


1!)0 

Oysters 
(In  Season) 

Raw  Oysters 
Stewed  Oysters 
Broiled  Oysters 
Fried  Oysters 
Faney  Roast  Oysters 
Spiced  Oj'sters 
Pickled  Oysters 
Raw  Clams  on  Shell 
Stewed  Clams 
Roast  Clams 
Fried  Clams 

Eggs 

Boiled 

Fried 

Poached 

Shirred 

Omelet 

Omelet  with  Rum 

Omelet  with  Ham 

Omelet  with  Parsley 

Scrambled 


palace    cars,    iikroes,    and    blizzard! 
Bread  Dessert 


French  Bread 
Boston  Brown  Bread 
Hot  Biscuit 
Dry  Toast 
Buttered  Toast 
^lilk  Toast 
Dipped  Toast 
Albert  Biscuit 
Corn  Bread 

Pastry 

Apple  Pie 
Peach  Pie 
Custard  Pie 
Lady  Pudding 
Cocoanut  Pie 
Blackberry  Pie 
Cherry  Pie 
Indian  Pudding 
Rice  Pudding 
Plum  Pudding 


Assorted  Cake 
Strawberry  Short 

Cake 
Blackberries  &  Cream 
California  Grapes 
Oranges 
Apples 
Bananas 

Strawberries  &  Cream 
Delaware  Grapes 
Plums 

Assorted  Nuts 
Ice  Cream 

Preserved  Frtits 

Peaches 

Raspberries 

Cherries 

Plums 

Spiced  Peaches 

Currant  Jelly 


Cl 


lapter  24^ 

'*AH,     NOBLE     KATE     SHELLEY" 


American  railroad  history  has  many  stories  of  its  heroes.  Trains 
have  been  saved  from  head-on  collision,  from  being  swept  down  a 
mountainside  by  an  avalanche  of  rock,  from  plunging  through  a 
wrecked  bridge.  But  the  North  Western  has  a  heroine ;  and  there  has 
been  no  greater  act  of  courage  than  when  Kate  Shelley  saved  the 
Midnight  Express. 

Number  15  clattered  over  the  Kate  Shelley  Bridge  and  came  into 
Ogden,  Iowa,  at  12:10  p.m.  The  conductor,  beset  by  a  large,  wet 
man  looking  for  his  wife,  seemed  pained  when  we  asked  him  why  he 
hadn't  stopped  at  Moingona.  He  made  some  answer,  most  of  which 
was  lost  in  a  shriek  of  wind.  He  waved  a  highball  to  the  engineer  and 
swung  aboard  his  train. 

A  taxicab  driver  was  more  helpful. 

"Moingona,"  he  said.  "Sure.  I  can  take  you  there.  It's  off  the  slab 
on  the  river  just  this  side  of  Boone.  In  weather  like  this  the  hill  out 
of  Coal  Valley's  going  to  be  plenty  slippery.  But  I  can  get  you 
there."  So,  in  one  of  the  worst  tempests  the  region  had  experienced 
since  the  night  of  July  6,  1881,  we  set  out  to  see  for  ourselves  the 
treacherous  crossing  of  the  Des  Moines  River  and  reconstruct  the 
tragedy  of  Honey  Creek. 

It  was  a  fine  day  for  it.  Rain  was  trailing  across  the  valley  in 
shredded  streamers  out  of  a  corpse-colored  sky.  The  creeks  were 
high,  and  wide  pools  of  water  stretched  out  over  the  black  corn- 
land.  That  was  an  incongruous  note,  you  thought — not  the  water, 
the  black  earth.  The  corn  had  been  fairly  high  and  green  that  other 
day — but  there  had  been  just  as  much  water,  probably  more. 

It's  about  four  miles  from  Ogden  to  the  river  over  a  straight  road. 
191 


192  PALACE    CAns,    iinnoEs,    and    blizzards 

There  seemed  to  be  fairly  precipitous  hills  on  citlier  side.  You  could 
barely  see  tlieni  tlirough  the  streaming  windshield  but  you  could  fig- 
ure out  why  helper  engines  liad  been  needed  to  haul  the  North  West- 
ern trains  up  these  grades.  It  was  just  the  same  over  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  toward  Boone.  That's  why  there  had  been  a  loco- 
motive with  steam  up  at  Moingona  that  night — it  was  just  the  usual 
assignment. 

It  didn't  take  much  imagination  to  picture  that  engine  starting 
out  on  the  last  trip  to  Honey  Creek,  one  of  those  little  tin  teakettles 
with  a  pot  stack  and  a  hoarse  whistle.  All  you  had  to  do  was  stare 
hard  enough  into  the  storm  you  couldn't  see  through,  and  the  whole 
thing  was  right  there  before  your  eyes — Ed  Wood  getting  up  into 
the  cab;  George  Olmstead,  the  fireman,  beside  him;  Adam  Agar,  the 
brakeman,  and  Pat  Donohue,  section  boss,  on  the  running  board. 
It  seemed,  somehow,  that  the  affair  of  the  Honey  Creek  bridge  was 
something  very  imminent  and  recent.  I  wondered  if  the  taxi  driver 
felt  the  same  way  about  it.  So  I  asked  him  if  he  remembered  any  local 
stories  about  Kate  Shelley. 

"Kate  Shelley,"  he  repeated.  "Who's  she?" 

"Well,"  I  said,  "she  was  a  girl  who  lived  on  a  farm  near  Honey 
Creek.   .   .  ."  He  was  patient. 

"If  you're  goin'  to  Honey  Creek  we'd  better  go  around  by  Boone," 
he  said  pontifically.  "You  don't  get  to  it  through  Moingona.  It's 
other  side  of  the  river — mile  and  a  half  or  so.  But  maj'be  you  got 
business  there.'"' 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "I've  got  to  light  a  lantern  'to  keep  my  spirit 
warm.' " 

We  went  the  rest  of  the  way  in  silence,  up  the  slithery  hill  out  of 
Coal  Valley,  left  on  a  road  that  was  virtually  awash,  to  the  edge 
of  the  Des  Moines  River  bluffs.  We  passed  an  old  and  somewhat 
neglected  cemetery,  turned  left  on  another  mud-covered  road,  and 
slid  half  sidewise  down  toward  a  lifeless  and  sodden  village. 

Kate  Shellej',  the  greatest  of  the  railroad  heroines,  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  Michael  J.  Shelley,  an  Irish  immigrant  who,  for  thirteen  years 
before  his  death  in  1878,  had  been  a  section  hand  on  the  North 
Western.  Mike's  widow  and  five  children  lived  in  a  mortgaged  cottage 


"ah,     noble      KATE      SHELLEY"  193 

on  a  farm  plot  near  the  Honey  Creek  bridge.  On  the  night  of  July  6, 
1881,  Kate,  eldest  of  the  children,  was  fifteen  years  old. 

She  was  a  quiet  child,  bashful  before  strangers  and  somewhat 
dependent  on  her  mother's  direction.  But  she  was  lai-ge  for  her  age, 
and  strong. 

The  tiling  about  her  heroism  that  seemed  most  to  astonish  the 
world  in  which  she  lived  was  that  it  had  been  displayed  by  a  woman, 
"a  mere  slip  of  a  girl."  Railroads,  telegraph,  and  telephone  had 
brought  people  probably  closer  to  the  realities  of  life  than  ever  be- 
fore in  the  world's  history,  but  the  delusion  seems  to  have  persisted 
that  females  were  fragile,  helpless  beings  allergic  to  thought  and 
incapable  of  action.  True,  everybody  was  still  singing  songs  about 
Grace  Darling  who  saved  a  lot  of  shipwrecked  sailors  near  her 
father's  lighthouse — but,  of  course,  she  was  a  foreigner  and  somehow 
different. 

How  anybody  could  have  associated  frailt}'  and  inaction  with  a 
girl  like  Kate  Shelley  is  difficult  to  see.  Of  all  the  family  she  was  the 
only  one  big  enough  to  look  after  the  little  farm.  So  she  did.  She 
hoed  and  plowed  and  fed  the  stock,  and  did  all  the  odd  chores  from 
early  morning  till  late  at  night.  She  had  the  self-assurance  that 
comes  of  doing  a  hard  job  by  one's  self.  She  was  competent  to  make 
a  decision  and  able  to  carry  it  out. 

The  day  of  July  6  had  been  dark  and  stormy,  like  many  other 
days  during  the  week  before.  In  the  waning  light  as  she  went  to  milk 
the  cows  that  evening,  Kate  noticed  that  Honey  Creek  was  out  of  its 
banks.  When  she  came  out  of  the  barn  she  noticed  a  widening  finger 
of  water  between  the  lower  edge  of  the  farm  and  the  embankment 
that  carried  the  rails  up  to  the  bridge. 

The  3'ounger  Shelley  children  had  their  supper  about  half  past 
six.  The  world  outside  was  then  perfectly  dark.  The  rain  was  coming 
down  harder  and  spattering  against  the  north  windows  in  a  high 
wind.  After  they  had  eaten  and  washed  and  dried  the  dishes  the  chil- 
dren went  to  bed.  Kate  and  her  mother  sat  watching  the  clock  by 
candlelight  and  listening  to  the  noise  of  the  storm. 

About  ten  o'clock  the  girl  wrapped  herself  in  a  coat  and  started 
out  to  see  how  the  livestock  were  faring. 

"On  a  night  like  this  anything  can  happen,"  she  explained. 

"And  probably  will,"  observed  her  mother  with  a  Tyrone  woman's 


lot  PALACE   CARS,  HEnOES,  AND  BLIZZARDS 

gift  of  prophecy.  (Eleven  of  the  twenty-one  bridges  in  the  Des 
Moines  valley  were  washed  out  that  night.) 

Kate  found  herself  walking  in  water  before  she  had  gone  a  hun- 
dred feet  down  the  slope  from  the  house.  She  opened  the  barn  door 
so  the  cows  could  get  to  higher  ground,  and  rescued  some  little  pigs 
that  had  burrowed  into  a  haymow  on  the  edge  of  the  rising  tide. 
The  light  from  her  lantern  as  she  bent  her  head  against  the  tempest 
on  the  way  back  to  the  house  showed  no  trace  whatever  of  the  familiar 
creek.  On  three  sides  of  the  little  knoll  on  which  the  house  stood  was 
ii  boiling  lake. 

From  the  front  window,  when  the  lightning  flashed,  as  it  did  fre- 
quently, she  could  see  that  the  band  of  water  between  the  farm  and 
the  embankment  had  come  up  several  feet.  White  froth  was  churning 
up  around  the  piers  of  Honey  Creek  bridge. 

About  eleven  o'clock,  above  the  steady  scream  of  the  wind,  the  two 
women  caught  the  low  note  of  an  engine  whistle.  They  glanced  appre- 
hensively at  one  another  and  went  back  to  the  window  overlooking 
the  bridge  approach.  No  train  was  scheduled  in  either  direction  at 
this  hour.  Both  of  them  knew  that.  They  watched  in  puzzlement 
until  the  rain-pierced  beam  of  a  headlight  picked  out  the  bridge  and 
they  recognized  the  Moingona  "helper"  swaying  from  side  to  side 
on  a  mushy  track  and  headed  east. 

They  judged  correctly  that  the  locomotive  had  been  sent  out  to 
test  the  right  of  way  along  the  4-mile  stretch  to  Boone.  But  they  had 
no  time  to  consider  the  matter.  Ed  Wood's  engine  ran  out  onto  the 
bridge,  then  veered  crazily,  the  headlight  striking  up  through  the 
trees  on  the  bluffs  ahead.  Then  it  disappeared  altogether.  The  crash 
of  rending  wood  and  an  explosive  hiss  of  steam  came  back  out  of 
the  storm. 

The  noise  brought  all  the  family  out  of  bed.  But  then  they  all 
stood  about  in  shocked  helplessness.  Kate  lighted  her  father's  old 
railroad  lantern,  wrapped  herself  in  her  wet  coat,  and  went  back 
into  the  storm. 

The  water  between  the  Shelley  fence  and  the  North  Western  right 
of  way  was  now  too  deep  for  her  to  cross.  But  from  the  high  ground 
behind  the  house  she  was  able  to  cross  a  ridge  to  a  stretch  where 
the  tracks  skirted  the  bluffs.  There  was  no  water  here.  She  ran  along 
the  roadbed  past  her  own  home  to  the  bridge. 


"ah,     noble      KATE      SHELLEY"  195 

Part  of  the  structure  was  still  intact,  but  beyond  that  two  rails 
dipped  down  into  emptiness.  Far  below  the  lightning  revealed  white 
water  swirling  through  the  wheels  of  an  upside-down  locomotive. 

Instinctively  she  called  out  to  Wood,  Olmstead,  and  Agar — the 
men  she  knew  must  have  been  aboard  the  engine.  And  presently  she 
got  a  faint  response.  Wood  and  Agar  had  been  thrown  out  of  the 
wreck  and  were  clinging  to  the  branches  of  a  submerged  tree.  The 
others  were  dead. 

The  girl  knew  instantly  that  there  was  nothing  she  could  do  here. 
The  most  remarkable  thing  about  her  performance  is  that  she  cor- 
rectly estimated  each  phase  of  the  situation,  knew  what  ought  to  be 
done,  and  did  it  without  wasting  time  in  tears  or  hysteria.  The  so- 
called  Midnight  Limited  from  the  west,  due  to  pass  through  Moin- 
gona  at  11 :27,  would  be  along  pretty  soon — she  did  not  know  how 
soon,  for  she  had  no  watch.  She  would  have  to  get  along  toward  the 
river  where  she  could  flag  it  down  before  it  went  crashing  into  Honey 
Creek  after  Wood  and  Olmstead  and  Agar.  She  turned  around  and 
started  to  run  down  the  track  toward  the  long  trestle  over  the  Des 
Moines. 

With  the  stinging  rain  in  her  face  and  the  lantern  mcrel}'  a  lumi- 
nous blur  at  her  side,  she  couldn't  see  where  she  was  going.  At  the 
first  curve  she  tripped  over  a  rail  and  fell,  skinning  her  knees  and 
hands  and  cracking  the  top  of  her  lantern  globe.  After  that  she 
went  more  slowly  but  just  as  blindly.  She  was  almost  on  the  eastern 
approach  to  the  trestle  when  she  stumbled  again.  That  time  the 
lantern  went  out. 

The  thought  of  crossing  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  of  trestle  and 
a  long  stretch  of  swamp-fill  in  a  cloudburst  had  not  occurred  to  her 
— not  at  first.  The  river  was  about  a  mile  from  Honey  Creek  bridge 
and  she  could  have  stopped  the  passenger  train  with  her  lantern  in 
plenty  of  time  to  keep  it  from  disaster.  But  now  the  lantern  was 
broken,  the  flame  had  blown  out,  and  she  had  no  way  of  lighting  it. 

Without  hesitation  she  started  out  across  the  trestle. 

How  she  stayed  on  it  in  the  half-gale  that  was  blowing  down- 
river was  the  thing  that  most  puzzled  trainmen  who  happened  to  be 
abroad  that  night.  She  was  upright  when  she  came  off  the  approach 
but  not  for  long.  When  a  sudden  swirling  blast  of  wind  threw  her 
partly  off  balance,  she  dropped  to  her  knees,  then  flattened  herself 


196  PALACE      CARS,      HEROES,      AND      IlLIZZAltOS 

on  her  stomach  and  snaked  her  way  forward  literally  inch  by  inch. 

The  river,  as  she  could  sec  whenever  the  lightning  flashed,  had  risen 
almost  to  the  level  of  the  tics  and  was  roaring  down  toward  the  Mis- 
sissippi with  a  seventcen-mile-an-hour  current.  Piling  up  against  the 
north  side  of  the  trestle  was  the  usual  loot  of  rivers  gone  berserk — • 
snags,  posts,  planks,  sticks,  and  straws  and  even  sizable  trees.  Where 
enough  of  these  things  collected  to  form  a  barrier  the  water  broke 
over  tiicni  and  over  the  ties.  Half-drowned  Kate  fought  her  way 
through  these  cataracts  clinging  to  the  rails.  Spikes  and  splinters 
tore  her  clothes  to  rags. 

The  worst  of  her  ordeal  was  tliat  she  speedily  lost  all  conccjjtion 
of  time.  For  all  she  knew  as  she  pulled  herself  forward  from  one  tie 
to  another,  the  limited  might  even  now  be  snaking  its  way  down 
through  the  western  bluffs.  It  might  catch  her  out  here  on  this  bridge 
and — she  said  some  prayers.  She  couldn't  leave  the  trestle  except 
to  give  herself  up  to  the  murderous  river.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she 
must  still  be  somewhere  in  midstream  hours  away  from  Moingona 
when  suddenly  the  lightning  showed  mud  instead  of  running  water 
between  the  ties. 

She  got  to  her  feet  once  more  and  stumbled  an  interminable  quar- 
ter mile  to  the  Moingona  station.  The  agent  didn't  recognize  her 
when  she  reeled  in  out  of  the  storm.  He  saw  a  wet,  wild-eyed  girl  with 
straggly  hair  and  clothes  torn  like  a  scarecrow's,  clutching  an  un- 
lighted  lantern  in  her  rigid  hand. 

"My  God !  What's  this !"  he  said. 

"Honey  Creek  bridge  is  out,"  reported  Kate  Shelley  in  a  matter- 
of-fact  tone.  "You'd  better  stop  the  express.  .   .  ." 

Everybody  knows  wliat  happened  then — how  the  agent  ran  out 
with  his  red  lantern  and  stopped  the  express — how  300  grateful  men 
and  hysterical  women  spilled  out  onto  the  Moingona  platform  to 
fling  their  arms  around  the  embarrassed  girl  and  fight  to  kiss  her 
cold  hands,  how  they  took  up  a  collection  for  her.  Kate  presently 
rode  home  in  the  cab  of  the  engine  that  was  taking  a  rescue  party 
out  to  Honey  Creek.  She  was  up  early  the  next  morning  to  look 
after  liie  cows  and  chickens.  But  her  life  was  never  to  be  the  same 
again. 


"ah,     noble      KATE     SHELLEY"  197 

Reporters,  photographers,  theatrical  agents  poured  into  Moin- 
gona.  They  found  a  little  girl,  who  couldn't  understand  what  all  the 
excitement  was  about.  In  forty-eight  hours  she  was  the  most  talked- 
of  person  in  the  United  States. 

In  Chicago  a  newspaper  took  up  a  collection  to  pay  off  tlie  mort- 
gage on  the  Shelley  farm.  Frances  Willard,  the  temperance  advo- 
cate, contributed  twenty-five  dollars  toward  a  fund  to  provide  the 
girl  with  a  scholarship  at  Simpson  College,  Indianola,  Iowa.  The 
school  children  of  Dubuque  gave  licr  a  medal.  The  state  of  Iowa  gave 
her  another  accompanied  by  an  award  of  two  hundred  dollars.  She 
got  a  gold  watch  and  chain  from  the  Order  of  Railway  Conductors, 
and  a  half  a  barrel  of  flour,  a  load  of  coal,  one  hundred  dollars,  and 
a  lifetime  pass  from  the  North  Western  Railway. 

She  missed  much  of  the  strain  of  this  notoriety  because  she  col- 
lapsed on  the  afternoon  of  July  7,  1881,  and  was  kept  in  bed  for 
three  months.  But  the  turmoil  was  still  going  on  when  she  got  around 
again. 

She  went  to  Simpson  College  for  a  year  but  didn't  like  it.  She  got 
a  schoolteaching  post  near  Moingona  but  found  that  the  routine 
made  her  nervous.  In  1903  the  North  Western  gave  her  a  place  as 
station  agent  at  Moingona,  where  she  stayed  until  her  death  in  1912. 

Twice  each  day  she  walked  from  her  home  near  Honey  Creek  to 
the  railroad  station  following  the  same  route  she  followed  on  the 
night  of  July  6,  1881,  and  stepping  the  ties  on  the  same  bridge. 
When  she  died  the  railroad  provided  a  special  train  to  carry  mourn- 
ers to  and  from  her  funeral.  In  1926  the  old  trestle  was  torn  out,  and 
a  modem  steel  structure  184  feet  high  was  built  4>  miles  upstream 
to  carry  the  streamliners,  red-ball  freights,  and  lesser  traffic  be- 
tween Chicago  and  the  Pacific  coast.  The  top  officials  of  the  organi- 
zation were  present  at  the  dedication  of  the  new  trestle.  They  called 
it  the  Kate  Shelley  Bridge. 

The  memory  of  Kate  Shelley  was  green  enough  as  the  taxicab 
skidded  down  the  slope  into  Moingona.  The  railroad  had  seen  to 
that,  and  so  had  the  balladists — never,  so  the  story  goes,  were  so 
many  songs  written  in  such  great  praise  of  a  living  American 
heroine. 


198  PALACE      CARS,      HEROES,      AND      BLIZZARDS 

TIktc  was  of  course  Eugene  J.  Hall's  striking  lyric,  still  to  be 
found  in  the  elocution  books: 

Ah,  noble  Kate  Shelley,  your  mission  is  done; 

Your  deed  that  dark  night  will  not  fade  from  our  gaze. 

And  endless  renown  you  have  worthily  won; 

Let  the  nation  be  just  and  accord  you  its  praise 

Let  your  name,  let  your  fame  and  your  courage  declare 

What  a  woman  can  do  and  a  woman  can  dare. 

You  wonder,  as  the  wind  shifts  a  bit  and  you  can  see  the  river 
riding  down  through  the  mud  flats,  if  the  local  enthusiasts  are  still 
singing  the  carol  of  the  Reverend  Francis   Schreiber  of  Havana, 

Up  to  the  station,  her  steps  she  bent 
To  state  the  doleful  incident; 
And  when  she'd  done  and  knew  no  more. 
She  swooned  and  reeled  and  hit  the  floor. 

Conjecture  was  interrupted  by  the  voice  of  the  taxi  driver. 

"This  is  Moingona,  brother,"  he  said.  "Where  to  now.'"' 

We  stopped  in  front  of  a  garage  where  a  young  man  was  trying 
to  open  a  drain.  I  asked  him  the  way  to  Honey  Creek. 

"Gotta  go  around  now,"  he  said.  "They  took  the  trestle  out." 

"\\Ticre's  the  railroad  station?"  I  went  on. 

"Right  here,"  he  said.  "This  is  it.  Or  it  was." 

"And  whcre's  the  railroad?" 

"I  couldn't  rightly  say.  Over  the  hill  someplace." 

"But  where  do  the  trains  stop  here?"  He  looked  at  me  queerly. 

"They  don't,"  he  said.  "There  ain't  any."  And  then  I  realized  what 
the  conductor  on  Number  15  had  been  trying  to  tell  me  about 
Moingona. 

So  we  started  back  through  the  mud  and  wet  to  Ogden.  ]\Ioingona, 
the  shrine  of  an  authentic  heroine,  had  faded  out  in  a  veil  of  rain 
before  we  were  halfway  up  the  hill. 

"What  was  that  you  were  saying  about  lighting  a  lantern?"  in- 
quired the  taxi  driver. 


Cl 


lapter  25 

THE     GREAT     BLIZZARD 


It's  been  a  long  time,  now,  since  blizzards  have  been  able  to  tie  up 
the  railroads  on  the  western  prairies  for  longer  than  a  few  hours  at 
a  time.  Only  a  few  of  the  oldest  inhabitants  of  such  towns  as  Water- 
town  and  Huron,  South  Dakota,  can  recall  the  last  time  a  man  was 
frozen  to  death  between  his  woodshed  and  his  kitchen  door.  No  one 
is  over-worried  if  the  children  are  a  few  minutes  late  getting  home 
from  school  at  Geneva  or  Cordova,  Nebraska.  Hardly  anj-body  in 
recent  years  has  gone  20  miles  out  of  his  way  on  the  10-mile  stretch 
of  straight  road  between  Atlantic  and  Lewis,  Iowa.  And  yet  such 
things  happened  regularly  and  almost  unexplainably  within  the 
memory  of  living  men  and  women. 

The  Blizzard  Club  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  has  recently  published 
a  book  setting  forth  the  personal  experiences  of  hundreds  of  people 
who  survived  the  freak  snowstorm  that  on  January  12,  1888,  swept 
down  from  Canada  across  the  Dakotas,  Nebraska,  Kansas,  Minne- 
sota, Iowa,  Missouri,  and  parts  of  Montana,  Wyoming,  Colorado, 
and  Oklahoma.  The  volume  is  a  stirring  record  of  a  little-known 
tragedy,  but  even  nature  doesn't  seem  to  repeat  herself  any  more, 
and  no  latter-da}'  resident  of  the  Middle  AVcst  can  possibly  imagine 
such  a  storm. 

Alex  Johnson,  who  looked  on  these  things  first  through  the  eyes 
of  a  homesteader  and  then  as  a  railroad  official,  records  what  he  saw 
in  a  detailed  journal  and  comments  that  the  physical  world  must  be 
changing.  On  the  surface  there  appears  to  be  plenty  of  evidence  to 
support  his  theory. 

The  hardship  of  life  in  the  prairie  states  during  the  first  few  years 
after  the  North  Western  came  up  to  the  Missouri  River  is  barely 

199 


200  PALACE      CAHS,      HEROES,      AND      BLIZZARDS 

credible.  Johnson's  record  shows  that  he  was  continually  getting  lost 
not  only  on  journeys  of  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  along  a  dim  trail 
but  in  trying  to  get  from  his  claim  to  town,  three  or  four  miles  away. 
To  travel  the  prairie  on  a  starless  night  was  alwaj's  a  perilous  ad- 
venture. To  travel  the  prairie  on  a  starless  night  in  winter  was  little 
short  of  suicide. 

One  night,  aecompaiiied  by  a  cousin,  he  set  out  from  Rcdfield, 
South  Dakota,  with  a  wagonload  of  household  goods  headed  for 
Doland,  25  miles  away.  He  writes : 

A  snowstorm  caught  us  after  wc  left  Rcdfield.  The  ground  became 
covered  and  we  lost  the  trail.  It  was  soon  dark.  We  went  on  and  after 
whUe  got  to  the  Jim  River. 

There  had  been  continuous  spring  rains  before  the  snow,  and  the  water 
was  very  high.  We  could  hear  it  running  and  the  roar  was  frightening. 
Not  knowing  whether  it  was  safe  or  not,  we  were  afraid  to  drive  the 
horses  into  it. 

It  was  decided  that  we  would  unhitch  the  team  and  I  would  ride  one 
of  the  horses  across  as  a  test.  I  couldn't  see  anything  when  I  started,  but 
as  a  matter  of  fact  we  were  at  the  edge  of  a  high  bank  and  on  a  bend  in 
the  river  where  the  water  was  very  deep. 

The  horse  went  under  at  the  first  plunge,  then  became  frantic  and 
started  to  swim.  I  hung  on.  He  reached  the  high  bank  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river  and  it  was  impossible  to  make  a  landing.  He  turned  suddenly 
and  I  fell  in  the  river.  I  tried  to  grab  the  harness  and  he  kicked  me  pain- 
fully in  the  leg.  I  drifted  downstream  to  a  ford  in  shallow  water  and 
walked  ashore. 

In  time  we  got  the  horses  together  and  crossed.  We  got  lost  again.  I 
had  to  walk  in  my  wet  clothes  to  keep  from  freezing.  We  arrived  in  Frank- 
fort at  5  A.M.  We  had  traveled  all  night. 

In  the  open  saloon  that  served  the  public  of  Frankfort  a  card  game 
was  going  on — even  at  that  hour.  We  came  in  and  the  men  at  the  table 
saw  my  condition  and  stopped  the  game.  One  was  particularly  kind  to 
me.  He  gave  me  his  bed  and  next  morning  fitted  me  out  with  a  suit  of 
dry  clothes.  .  .  .  He  was  just  about  my  size.  He  left  the  state  afterward 
for  cause.  But  he  did  me  a  service  I  have  never  forgotten. 

We  reached  the  homestead  eventually  and  I  slept  most  of  two  days. 

That  was  the  worst  of  his  journeys  between  towns.  But  there  were 
others  almost  ns  bad.  If  the  snow  fell,  one  got  lost.  Tiien  to  stay  alive 


THE      GREAT      BLIZZARD  201 

he  had  to  wander  all  night  and  get  his  bearings  by  daylight.  Fortu- 
nately the  terrain  was  such  that  he  seldom  got  more  than  eight  or 
ten  miles  out  of  his  way. 

Johnson,  who  got  a  job  at  the  grain  elevator  in  Doland,  picked 
up  telegraphy  practicing  with  D.  A.  Paulson,  the  North  Western 
station  agent,  and  eventually  was  himself  appointed  station  agent  at 
Raymond.  He  went  up  to  the  county  seat  at  Old  Ashton  that  year 
to  prove  up  on  his  claim.  He  wrote  in  his  diary : 

Got  lost  coming  back.  In  the  morning  I  found  out  that  I  had  passed 
close  to  my  home  several  times. 

He  moved  into  town.  On  another  date  he  wrote : 

We  were  snowbound  many  times  that  winter. 

Two  young  men  named  Cochrane  and  Parrott  had  opened  a  store.  In 
the  dead  of  the  winter  Mrs.  Cochrane,  Parrott's  sister,  died  in  childbirth 
— there  were  no  doctors  in  the  town. 

On  that  day,  with  the  bright  sun  shining,  the  thermometer  30  degrees 
below  zero,  four  feet  of  snow  on  the  level  and  no  trains  operating,  the 
sad  news  soon  passed  to  the  dozen  men  and  fewer  women  in  town.  We  got 
together  to  see  what  could  be  done. 

Mrs.  Cochrane,  before  her  marriage,  had  filed  on  a  claim  a  mile  from 
the  village  and  it  was  decided  to  bury  her  there.  Three  of  us  walked 
over  the  frozen  snow  to  dig  the  grave. 

The  ground  was  frozen,  and  when  it  turned  dark  we  came  back  with 
the  work  half  finished.  Others  had  begun  to  build  a  casket. 

The  next  day  I  was  assigned  to  the  grave  work  again.  We  took  another 
man  with  us,  but  even  so  we  couldn't  finish  the  work  projseidy  before 
dark  came  again. 

On  our  return  we  found  it  necessary  to  dig  some  sort  of  roadway  to 
the  grave.  We  studied  the  matter  and  decided  it  would  be  best  to  dig 
down  about  halfway  to  the  ground  and  in  some  fashion  pack  the  rest  of 
the  snow  down.  The  next  morning  we  had  a  partly  completed  roadway 
and  with  the  aid  of  section  men  from  the  railroad  it  was  completed  late 
in  the  day. 

We  had  to  put  the  coffin  on  holding  timbers  because  the  road  was  too 
narrow  for  it  with  men  ranged  alongside.  That  night,  with  Walter  Wilson, 
a  hardware  man,  I  was  a  watcher.  Next  to  Cochrane  and  Parrott's  store 
was  a  saloon,  open  all  night.  Wilson  and  I  would  take  turns  going  to  this 
place  to  get  warm  and  then  resume  our  watch.   The  next  morning  the 


202  PALACE      CARS,      HEROES,      AND      BLIZZARDS 

thermometer  registered  tliirty-five  below  at  the  time  wlien  a  dozen  friends 
made  tlicir  way  througli  tlic  tunnel  trail  to  the  grave.   .  .  , 

And  there  seemed  to  be  no  end  to  such  li.-irdsliij)  and  .suffering  as 
tliis.  A  later  entry  in  his  journal  reads: 

Till'  cycle  of  drouth  years  from  1886  to  1892  caused  many  who  could 
do  so  to  leave  the  state,  and  on  the  roads  covered  wagons  filled  with  fam- 
ilies and  household  goods  were  many.  Those  who  remained  found  priva- 
tion, discouragement  and  in  many  eases  acute  suffering. 

Twisted  prairie  hay  was  used  in  this  country  for  fuel.  At  first  it  was 
burned  in  ordinary  cook  stoves.  Later  a  sheet-iron  stove  was  designed  for 
hay  fuel  and  was  quite  generally  used.  I  recall  that  a  man  in  De  Smet 
made  one  of  these  hay  burners  that  sold  for  $2.50.  It  required  time  and 
work  to  keep  from  freezing. 

The  following  spring  after  the  big  exodus  it  was  found  that  those  who 
remained  had  disposed  of  their  seed.  ...  It  was  all  a  one  year  crop  then 
— all  spring  wheat.  Counties  like  Brown  brought  seed  in  the  market  and 
loaned  to  farmers  on  chattel  mortgages.  .  .  . 

The  rain  makers  were  active  in  the  district  that  year.  The  town 
of  Doland  built  high  platforms  to  aid  these  magicians,  Johnson 
noted.  But  the  rain,  wiicthcr  produced  by  them,  or  gratuitous,  came 
too  late  to  save  the  crop. 

In  1886  Johnson  moved  to  Watcrtown  as  traveling  auditor  for 
both  the  North  Western  Railway  and  the  Van  Deusen  grain  com- 
pany. He  was  in  Rcdfield  making  a  routine  examination  of  the  sta- 
tion agent's  accounts  on  the  morning  of  January  12,  1888. 

In  the  states  of  Montana,  North  Dakota,  South  Dakota,  Iowa,  Minne- 
sota and  Nebraska,  this  was  a  memorable  day. 

It  had  been  a  winter  of  deep  snow  and  rail  traffic  wasn't  dense  at  any 
time.  But  there  had  been  repeated  rail  blocks  and  the  snow  had  drifted 
to  unusual  depths  in  the  small  towns  and  along  the  countrj^side.  Rail 
traffic  was  so  much  delayed  that  for  long  periods  it  was  in  a  virtual  state 
of  blockage.  Mail  was  delayed  for  many  days  and  in  some  localities  for 
weeks. 

The  railroads  at  that  time  were  not  provided  with  rotary  snowplows. 

I  was  in  a  rail-snow  block  that  day  at  Clark,  thirty-one  miles  west  of 
Watertown  and  had  been  there  two  and  a  half  days  previously.  The  wires 
were  down  and  it  was  about  fifteen  degrees  below  zero  during  the  day. 
Before  communication  broke  I  had  sent  a  message  to  my  wife  and  chil- 


THE      GREAT      BLIZZARD  203 

dren  in  Watertown  that  I  was  all  right  and  had  received  an  answer  that 
all  was  well  at  home. 

At  Clark  there  was  a  passenger  train  and  a  snowplow  engine,  and  an 
engine  with  two  cabooses  and  a  box  car.  This  outfit  was  the  usual  one 
where  snow  drifts  made  going  difficult  for  trains.  The  last  train  with 
engine,  cabooses  and  box  car  was  usually  called  a  "dragout."  And  in  addi- 
tion to  a  regular  crew  it  would  carry  an  accumulation  of  section  men 
from  several  adjoining  sections,  sometimes  in  charge  of  a  roadmaster. 

The  snowplow  would  make  a  run  for  a  drift — always  to  be  found  in 
cuts  with  high  banks  on  either  side  of  the  rails.  The  engine  would  back 
up  from  100  to  1,000  feet  in  order  to  attack  the  drift  at  full  speed.  If 
it  did  not  succeed  in  getting  through,  it  generally  became  wedged.  Then 
the  dragout  would  move  in  to  pull  it  out. 

The  section  men  would  shovel  the  snow  out  and  over  the  banks,  and  the 
snowplow  would  make  another  run  for  it.  This  might  go  on  for  days  be- 
fore the  cuts  were  opened.  On  January  12,  1888,  the  work  had  been  go- 
ing on  for  more  than  four  days.  A  general  tie-up  was  ordered. 

The  banks  were  piled  up  high  on  either  side  of  the  track  by  repeated 
attacks  of  snowplow  and  shovel.  Frequently  after  the  cuts  had  been 
opened  a  night's  snow  and  wind  would  fill  them  up  again.  In  places  along 
the  road  to  Watertown  the  drifts  were  higher  than  the  telegraph  poles. 

The  dragout  train  usually  carried  food  for  the  crews.  The  passenger 
train  was  less  well  equipped.  Frequently  they  were  stalled  between  sta- 
tions with  no  supplies  at  all.  The  passengers  would  have  to  sleep  in  their 
seats  and  often  the  engine  fires  would  be  killed  to  provide  fuel  for  stoves 
in  the  coaches.  Many  times  passengers  would  strike  out  into  the  country 
to  settlers'  homes  looking  for  food  and  warmth. 

Snow  fences  were  erected  at  short  distances  from  the  cuts  to  divert 
the  drifts  around  the  end  so  that  they  would  cross  the  track  and  be  dis- 
tributed in  the  open  prairie.  But  the  snow,  after  two  or  three  days  of 
drifting,  would  generally  pile  up  over  the  snow  fence.  Such  days  came 
frequently  every  winter,  and  looking  back  on  them  they  seem  to  have 
been  unendurable.  Yet  they  were  accepted  as  part  of  the  price  for  the 
settlement  of  the  prairie. 

Newcomers  to  the  West  sometimes  wonder  if  weather  conditions  have 
changed.  ...  It  is  an  arguable  point.  In  the  early  days  the  snowplows 
were  small  and  inadequate  and  heavy  snows  were  expected  every  winter. 
Then  came  the  rotary  snowplow.  It  was  most  effective,  getting  the  work 
done  quicker  and  better  than  had  been  possible  with  the  three  train 
arrangement  and  forty -man  shoveling  teams.  But  it  was  seldom  required. 
Some  winters  there  was  not  a  single  call  for  it  and  for  many  winters  it 


204  PALACE      CARS,      HEROES,      AND      BLIZZARDS 

was  of  little  use.  ...  A  strange  situation  and  I'd  like  somebody  to  offer 
an  explanation  for  it. 

We  were  snowbound  at  Clark  on  January  12.  .  .  .  The  day  was  bright 
and  warm  and  we  ex))eeted  to  got  through  with  little  or  no  delay  until 
the  word  came  through  to  stoj)  all  efforts  to  open  tlie  road  until  further 
orders. 

At  3  P.M.  I  left  the  station  to  go  to  the  hotel — a  distance  of  not  more 
than  three  blocks.  For  the  first  two  blocks  the  sun  was  shining  and  there 
was  no  change  in  the  weather.  ]5ut  in  two  minutes  a  mist  came  with  the 
wind  and  in  two  more  the  sun  was  gone,  the  wind  was  whirling,  and,  as 
I  crossed  the  street  and  approached  the  hotel,  I  could  barely  see  the  out- 
line of  the  building. 

When  I  entered  the  hotel  a  number  of  people  were  about,  most  of  them 
traveling  salesmen.  They  were  visiting  and  playing  cards,  oblivious  of 
the  storm  that  had  begun  to  rage  outside.  They  asked  me  about  the  train. 
I  told  tliem  the  news  and  went  to  the  window.  I  saw  a  sight  that  I  had 
never  seen  before  nor  will  ever  see  again,  and  one  that  I  certainly  wOl 
never  forget. 

The  snow,  in  fine  flakes,  was  whirling  in  every  direction  and  getting 
denser  and  denser.  Nothing  was  visible  except  this  spinning  cloud.  In 
just  a  few  minutes  the  street  outside  the  window  was  entirely  dark. 

Some  of  the  company  stayed  up  all  night.  Many  of  us,  knowing  that 
we  could  not  get  away  in  the  morning,  retired.  There  was  little  sleep.  The 
blizzard  had  a  roaring  sound — not  the  sound  of  a  wind-storm  but  a  howl 
unlike  anything  any  of  us  had  ever  heard  before. 

The  next  morning  it  was  the  same — indescribable.  And  while  everyone 
was  apprehensive  none  of  us  could  know  of  the  terrible  conditions  in 
the  night  when  112  men,  women  and  children  had  lost  their  lives  and 
scores  had  suffered  crippling  injuries. 

The  effects  of  the  storm  were  not  realized  until  days  afterward.  Many 
people  remained  on  the  lists  of  missing  until  two  months  later  when  the 
snow  melted  and  their  bodies  were  found. 

Many  of  those  who  died  were  found  near  home  or  some  shelter  that 
they  had  been  unable  to  locate.  Many  had  fallen  in  an  attitude  of  reach- 
ing. Some  had  been  frozen  in  a  standing  position,  propped  against  trees 
or  fences.  Obviously  they  had  been  wandering  in  circles  until  death  over- 
took them. 

In  the  central  and  eastern  part  of  the  state  the  storm  came  during  that 
part  of  the  day  when  the  children  were  in  school — and  many  teachers  be- 
came heroines  of  a  high  order.  They  told  stories  to  the  children,  led  them 
in  singing,  played  games  with  them  and  kept  the  fires  going. 


THE      GREAT      BLIZZARD  205 

Scarves  were  tied  together  to  make  a  rope  one  end  of  which  was  held 
by  all  the  pupils  in  the  schoolroom  while  the  teacher,  holding  the  other 
end,  went  out  into  the  storm  to  get  snow  for  water.  Fuel  was  conserved. 
And  while  in  a  few  instances  youngsters  wandered  away  and  got  lost, 
most  of  those  who  were  still  at  their  desks  at  three  o'clock  that  after- 
noon were  safely  cared  for  until  the  blizzard  passed. 

Parents  were  not  so  fortunate.  INIany  of  them  made  attempts  to  locate 
the  schoolhouses  and  missed.  Some  were  saved  by  friends  or  the  off 
chance  that  led  them  to  run  into  a  fence  or  a  building.  Many  turned  their 
wagons  upside  down  and  took  shelter  under  the  boxes.  Some  were  saved. 
Others  were  smothered  as  the  drifts  piled  high  above  the  wagons. 

The  suffering  of  families  during  the  remainder  of  the  winter  or  until 
the  snow  had  gone,  was  horrible. 

Cattle  caught  in  the  storm  wandered  farther  than  humans.  Stock  losses 
were  terrific.  Such  animals  as  were  found  generally  could  not  be  identi- 
fied and  financial  embarrassment  and  an  exodus  of  population  followed 
loss  of  life  and  ghastly  suffering. 

There  were  clear  skies  and  crisp  calm  air  on  January  15.  Rail 
traffic  was  still  tied  up  indefinitely.  Food  supplies  were  diminishing, 
and  the  traveling  salesmen  marooned  in  the  hotel  began  to  get  restive. 
A  large  man,  representing  a  Sioux  City  shoe  dealer  presided  over  a 
meeting  in  the  dining-room  to  decide  on  a  program  of  mutual  assist- 
ance. Fourteen  men,  including  A.  C.  Johnson,  decided  to  walk  the 
31  miles  to  Watertown. 

The  chairman  tried  to  exclude  one  William  Cole  from  the  walking 
tour  because  he  was  too  old  (fifty-five).  Cole  said  that  he  would  go 
in  company  or  he  would  go  by  himself.  So  the  fourteen  started 
bravely  out  over  the.drifts.  En  route  the  voyagers  dropped  off  one 
after  another,  at  settlers'  homes  or  snowbound  villages. 

Only  Cole  and  Johnson  got  through. 

The  1888  blizzard  is  remembered  by  most  survivors  of  early 
days  on  the  prairies  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others.  That  is  probably 
because  in  a  few  hours  it  caused  greater  loss  of  life  and  impoverished 
more  people  than  the  rest  of  the  West's  recorded  storms  put  to- 
gether. But  as  a  phenomenon  of  a  roaring  wind  mixed  with  snow  it 
was  by  no  means  unusual.  Every  year  brought  its  blizzards  to  the 
great  plains,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  disastrous  results  of  the 


PALACE   CARS,   HEnOES,  AND  BLIZZARDS 


one  in  1888,  the  storm  of  1880-1881  iniglit  reasonably  have  been 
recorded  as  the  worst  in  history. 

Dr.  Stennett,  mentioning  it  in  Yesterday  and  Today,  tells  a  story 
that  might  seem  fantastic  if  one  did  not  know  that  he  had  access  to 
reports  of  construction  in  the  ^lissouri  Valley. 

The  Dakota  F'xtcnsion  to  the  Missouri  River  at  Pierre  was  finished  in 
the  early  fall  of  1880,  and  it  was  the  intention  of  the  management  to  he 
at  Pierre  on  the  day  when  the  first  through  traffic  train  reached  there 
from  the  east.  The  last  bridge  over  the  Yellow  Medicine  River  was  to 
be  finished  and  the  last  rail  laid  October  16. 

In  the  night  of  October  15  it  began  to  snow,  and  that  storm  scarcely 
ceased  until  May  5,  1881. 

Such  a  storm  was  nearly  or  quite  unprecedented  in  the  Northwest. 
Thousands  of  settlers  had  in  the  summer  and  fall  of  1880  flocked  to  Min- 
nesota and  Dakota  and  settled  along  the  lines  of  this  road ;  and  every 
one  of  them  was  dependent  on  the  trains  of  this  company  for  fuel  and 
food  and  light,  as  all  were  pioneers,  and  had  no  accumulated  stores  to 
draw  from.  Hence  it  seemed  incumbent  on  the  company  to  open  its  lines 
and  to  keep  them  open.  Its  snowplows  wers  kept  going  daj-  and  night 
and  thousands  of  men  were  hired  to  shovel  snow. 

I^iterally  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  were  spent  in  shoveling 
snow  in  these  six  months ;  and  when  spring  came  there  was  nothing  to  be 
seen  as  a  return  for  it.  The  road  that  was  cleared  in  the  day  would  be 
covered  again  in  the  night,  and  where  it  was  cleared  at  night  the  next 
day  was  sure  to  overwhelm  it  again;  and  so  the  fight  teas  kept  up  day 
and  night  for  practically  six  months.  Though  many  had  to  live  on  wheat 
or  corn  ground  in  coffee  mills,  none  was  allowed  to  starve.  And  when 
May  came  all  were  ready  for  the  work  that  should  have  been  begun  in 
February  or  March. 

It  is  said,  and  probably  truly,  that  over  fourteen  feet  of  snow  fell  that 
winter  on  a  level  in  Central  Minnesota  and  what  is  now  South  Dakota. 
...  In  many  places  the  cuts  made  b_v  the  snowplows  and  shovelers  were 
twenty  to  forty  feet  deep,  so  that  there  had  to  be  six  or  seven  ranks  of 
shovelers,  one  above  the  other,  on  the  slope  of  the  bank  to  move  the  snow 
above  the  track  and  far  enough  back  to  keep  it  from  rolling  into  the  cut 
as  fast  as  it  was  shoveled  out. 

In  March,  1881,  one  snowstorm  brought  a  full  four  feet  on  a  level  of 
snow.  The  last  snowstorm  and  blockade  did  not  occur  until  May  5,  1881. 

During  that  period  eastern  South  Dakota  was  virtually  isolated. 
Mitchell,  in  the  James  Valley,  was  completely  cut  off  from  the  rest 


THE      GREAT      BLIZZARD  207 

of  the  world  and  didn't  see  a  railroad  train  for  almost  sixteen  weeks. 

As  Alex  Johnson  observed  in  his  diary,  we  don't  see  such' winters 
any  more.  We  might  almost  convince  ourselves  that  the  climate  of 
the  Middle  West  is  changing  if  it  weren't  for  reminders  of  our  own 
little  snow-shoveling  problems.  The  latest  came  with  the  story  of 
T.  N.  Meyers  of  Alliance,  Nebraska,  who  remembered  about  twenty- 
eight  years  late  that  he  had  been  in  a  Class-A  blizzard  at  Chadron, 
Nebraska,  in  April,  1920. 

Meyers,  one  learns,  was  running  a  race  with  the  stork  from  In- 
terior, South  Dakota,  to  his  home  in  Alliance  when  the  train  buried 
itself  in  an  old-fashioned  snowdrift  at  Chadron  and  stopped.  A 
section  foreman  came  around  offering  to  pay  sixty  cents  an  hour  to 
anybody  who  would  help  excavate  the  train,  and  Meyers,  anxious  to 
get  home,  volunteered. 

It  took  eight  hours  to  clear  the  cut  and  get  the  train  on  its  way, 
but  Mej'ers  arrived  home  in  time  to  welcome  a  baby  daughter  on 
April  22.  Not  until  the  same  daughter's  birthday  this  year  did  it 
occur  to  him  that  he  had  failed  to  pick  up  his  pay.  He  thought  it 
might  be  interesting  to  find  out  if  the  North  Western  Railway  could 
remember  blizzai-ds  and  snow-shovelers  so  long  a  time.  He  wrote  a 
letter  to  the  Chadron  office,  which  referred  it  to  Chicago,  where  the 
auditing  department  found  that  his  check  had  been  waiting  for  him 
twenty-eight  years.  It  was  for  $4.80. 

He  was  delighted.  By  this  time,  he  says,  the  drift  probably  would 
have  melted  anyway. 


Cl 


lapler  26 

CASEY     AT     THE     THROTTLE 


Along  in  the  nineties  the  heroic  figure  of  tliis  country  was  no  war- 
rior or  man  of  violence.  He  was  a  paladin  of  peace — the  man  at  the 
throttle,  the  brave  engineer.  And  in  the  eyes  of  youth  he  rated  just 
above  the  driver  of  the  three  white  horses  on  the  fire  engine  as  the 
most  glamorous  exhibit  that  modem  civilization  had  produced. 

Little  boys  gazed  at  him  slack-jawed  as  he  leaned  from  the  cab 
of  his  panting  locomotive  at  way  stations.  Station  agents,  mayors, 
and  other  potentates  greeted  him  with  deference  and  obvious  high 
regard.  Any  bit  of  information  about  him  and  his  mysterious  life  was 
a  matter  of  intense  public  interest.  It  always  merited  first-page  posi- 
tion in  the  newspapers  and  never  failed  in  its  dramatic  effect  merely 
because  many  of  its  details  were  familiar,  not  to  say  standardized. 
Here  is  "the  brave  engineer,"  alert,  nerveless,  godlike  in  his  calm. 
His  "steady  hand"  is  "on  the  throttle,"  his  keen,  unwavering  eyes 
are  "fixed  on  twin  ribbons  of  steel"  ahead  of  him  as  he  "plunges  on- 
ward into  the  night."  "The  screaming  wind"  from  out  of  the  gloom 
is  "a  wild  song  of  daring  in  his  ears"  as  he  "spurs  his  iron  horse  to 
greater  bursts  of  speed."  When  suddenly  "in  the  ghastly  glare  of 
the  headlight"  he  is  aware  of  a  looming,  horrible,  deadly  menace — 

At  this  point  the  motivation  might  vary — a  bridge  out,  a  broken 
rail,  an  obstruction  on  the  track,  an  oncoming  locomotive  driven  by 
another  engineer  just  as  alert,  nerveless,  and  calm.  But  the  climax 
was  predictable.  Whatever  the  other  details  of  the  crash,  the  engi- 
neer would  be  there  at  his  post  when  it  happened — his  hand  still  on 
the  throttle  at  the  finish. 

Laymen,  in  those  days,  looked  upon  engineers  as  one  of  the  finest 
developments  of  American  society,  and  envied  tlicir  exalted  status 
in  public  esteem,  their  freedom  from  the  petty  cares  and  concerns  of 

208 


CASEY      AT     THE      THROTTLE  209 

ordinary  men.  Railroaders  admitted  that  maybe  they  might  be 
classed  as  a  species  of  aristocracy  a  bit  more  elevated  than  the  other 
aristocrats  in  a  very  upper-class  business.  The  brave  engineers, 
themselves,  weren't  so  sure. 

One  may  consider  the  episode  of  John  Casey,*  a  brave  engineer, 
who  ran  a  locomotive  between  Eyota  and  Chatfield,  Minnesota,  a 
spur  on  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  about  ten  miles 
long.  There  was  never  verj'  much  doing  on  this  line — no  Indians, 
burning  bridges,  hurricanes,  washouts,  or  train  robberies.  Certainly 
there  were  never  any  runaway  trains  roaring  toward  one  on  the  same 
track.  For  John's  train,  which  consisted  of  a  locomotive,  two  box- 
cars, and  a  caboose,  was  the  only  one  on  this  bit  of  track.  That  it 
was  called  Number  108  southbound  and  Number  109  northbound 
did  not  alter  this  basic  fact. 

John's  duties  weren't  very  exhausting.  Twice  each  day  he  would 
haul  his  train  from  Eyota  to  Chatfield,  pick  up  what  shipments  hap- 
pened to  be  waiting,  and  come  back  again.  On  his  first  round  trip  he 
was  supjjosed  to  leave  Eyota  at  8:00  a.m.  and  Chatfield  at  11:00 
A.M.  And  he  had  no  trouble  maintaining  this  schedule  until  one  day 
when  he  had  to  delay  the  morning  stai't  for  the  transfer  of  an  un- 
usual amount  of  farm  equipment.  It  was  after  11  a.m.  when  he  finally 
got  under  way  and  he  reached  Planks's  station  with  southbound  train 
Number  108  just  about  the  time  he  was  normally  due  there  with 
northbound  train  109. 

Inasmuch  as  he  had  no  fear  of  bumping  into  himself  on  a  bright 
day  with  a  clear  track,  he  waved  at  the  Planks's  station  agent  cheer- 
ily and  rattled  along  toward  Chatfield  which  he  reached  in  good 
order  along  about  11:40. 

There  was  some  more  delay  as  the  freight  was  unloaded,  but  John 
got  under  way  about  his  usual  afternoon  returning  time  and  was  in 
Eyota  in  time  for  supper.  He  thought  no  more  about  the  episode 
until  an  inspector  came  to  visit  him  about  a  week  later. 

"It's  about  Number  109,  on  July  fifteenth,"  the  inspector  told 
him.  "They  want  to  know  what  you  did  with  it." 

"I  didn't  do  anything  with  it,"  said  John.  "I  suppose  it  was  can- 
celed." His  visitor  shook  his  head  sadly. 

*  Uncle  of  author  Robert  J.  Casey. 


210  PALACE      CAKS,      UK  HOES,      AND      ULIZZAKDS 

"It  wasn't  canceled,"  he  answered.  "It  must  liave  just  disap- 
peared. And  I  think  maybe  you'll  be  hearing  about  it." 

So,  two  days  later,  John  tjol  down  from  his  cab  in  Eyot.i  af  the 
end  of  the  afternoon  run  and  received  an  order  to  report  at  once  to 
headquarters  in  St.  Paul.  The  next  day  he  was  on  the  carpet  be- 
fore a  grim-faced  superintendent. 

"As  engineer  of  Number  108  out  of  Isyota  on  July  fifteenth," 
stated  this  critic  after  reading  from  some  notes,  "you  should  have 
gone  onto  the  siding  at  Planks  to  permit  the  passage  of  Number  109 
out  of  Chatfield.  Instead  of  that,  without  waiting  even  to  ask  for 
instructions,  you  proceeded  the  rest  of  the  way  on  Number  109's 
time.  Such  conduct  is  indefensible  and  inexcusable." 

"But,"  gasped  John,  "there  wasn't  any  Number  10!).  There 
couldn't  be  until  I  got  to  Chatfield  and  turned  Number  108  around. 
I  was  running  the  only  locomotive  on  that  track." 

The  superintendent  listened  to  the  explanation  unmoved. 

"You  have  taken  too  much  for  granted,"  he  said.  "The  rule  on 
this  point  is  plain.  You  had  no  right  to  proceed  against  the  time 
of  a  train  tliat  theoretically  had  already  left  Chatfield." 

"But  there  was  no  other  train." 

"You  had  no  way  to  determine  that.  For  all  you  knew  to  the  con- 
trary, we  might  have  hauled  a  locomotive  and  a  couple  of  cars  over- 
land on  wagons  from  La  Crosse." 

John  studied  him  in  some  surprise. 

"Yes,"  he  said  finally,  "you  might  have  done  just  that.  It's  what 
they  call  operating  logic.  So  now  you  can  have  your  tin  teapot  and 
my  overalls.  I'm  going  out  West  and  raise  sheep." 

So  he  did  go  out  West  and  he  did  raise  sheep,  with  some  success. 
But  his  name,  from  that  time  to  this,  was  never  mentioned  by  the 
lads  who  compiled  the  stories  of  the  brave  new  engineers. 

In  the  history  of  nearly  ever}'  railroad  is  the  poignant  record  of 
the  relationship  that  sprang  up  between  an  engineer  and  some  for- 
lorn child  who  stood  each  day  at  a  desolate  crossroads  to  wave  a 
friendly  hand.  Some  of  these  are  the  most  beautiful  stories  in  an 
amazing  folklore.  But  every  gold  medal  has  its  reverse. 

Plenty  of  people  arc  still   alive  who   remember   the  erratic   per- 


CASEY     AT      THE      THROTTLE  211 

formance  of  the  Slim  Princess,  the  North  Western  narrow-gauge 
train  that  once  ran  between  Deadwood  and  Lead. 

The  course,  if  it  could  be  measured  horizontally,  was  about  two 
and  a  half  miles  long.  The  vertical  distance  was  about  a  thousand 
feet,  much  of  which  was  covered  over  a  series  of  shelves  pasted 
against  the  mountainside.  As  one  straightened  out  at  the  summit, 
however,  the  track  ran  briefly  along  a  gentler  slope.  And  in  this 
stretch,  every  few  trips,  the  train  would  come  to  a  sudden  halt  while 
the  engineer  tooted  his  whistle  and  roared  imprecations  at  some- 
thing hidden  in  the  brushwood. 

There  wasn't  anything  mysterious  about  this  rite — not  unless  you 
happened  to  be  a  very  recent  arrival  in  the  Hills.  The  engineer's 
explanation  had  been  recorded  in  print  the  first  time  the  startled 
passengers  asked  him  about  it. 

"That  little  kid  comes  down  here  and  monkeys  around  the  track," 
he  said.  "I'm  scaring  hell  out  of  him." 

Almost  of  a  piece  with  this  is  the  story  of  Earl  Gilette  who  had  a 
run  on  the  Omaha  line  with  a  terminus  at  Park  Falls,  Wisconsin. 
There  is  a  rumor,  which  now,  unfortunately,  cannot  be  disproved, 
that  in  ten  years  of  service  on  this  route  Gilette  was  never  better 
than  an  hour  late  at  his  destination  until  the  momentous  Decora- 
tion Day  when  he  came  roaring  past  the  town  of  Radisson  a  good 
twenty  minutes  ahead  of  schedule.  Midway  to  the  next  town  he  slid 
to  a  grinding  stop  alongside  somebody's  farm,  leaped  from  his  cab, 
and  dashed  up  an  embankment.  When  the  startled  conductor  caught 
up  with  him  a  few  minutes  later  he  was  sitting  on  a  stump,  spank- 
ing a  small  boy. 

"He's  been  throwing  things  at  me,"  explained  Gilette.  "He's  been 
needing  this  spanking  for  nearly  a  year,  but  this  is  the  first  chance 
I  had  to  give  it  to  him  without  wasting  the  passengers'  time." 

It  wasn't  only  at  the  far  ends  of  the  rail  that  the  brave  engineers 
displayed  their  occupational  whimsy.  An  engineer  seems  always  to 
have  been  an  engineer,  even  inside  the  city  limits.  And  for  that  we 
have  the  testimony  of  Caroline  Goldacker  of  Chicago. 

Some  time  before  the  turn  of  the  century.  Miss  Goldacker's  family 
lived  on  Belmont  Avenue  across  from  the  suburban  stop  then  known 
as  Gross  Park  station.  Belmont  Avenue  is  now  a  business  artery 
with  factories  pressing  close  to  the  North  Western  tracks.  But  in 


212  PAL  AC  K      CARS,      HEHOES,      AND      BLIZZARDS 

those  days  it  was  a  dusty,  quiut,  almost  empty  trail  throuf^h  a  (juiet 
community  of  homes. 

Living  there,  Miss  Goldacker  remembers,  was  much  like  living  in 
the  country,  and  like  other  people  beyond  the  edge  of  urban  excite- 
ment, her  family  developed  a  keen  interest  in  passing  trains.  In  time 
they  came  to  know  as  much  about  the  schedule — freight  and  pas- 
senger— as  the  dispatcher  downtown.  The  morning  milk  train  was 
a  more  reliable  awakener  than  an  alarm  clock.  There  was  a  Wau- 
kcgan-bound  passenger  train  that  signaled  their  bedtime  at  10:00 
P.M.  And  only  on  occasion  were  they  awake  to  hear  the  "theater 
special"  which  was  due  to  pass  Gross  Park,  without  stopping,  at 
11:30, 

Back  and  forth  shuttled  the  trains  as  regularly  as  the  clock 
ticked,  always  interesting  to  the  Goldackers  but  never  what  you 
might  call  intimately  associated  with  their  lives  until  a  brave  engi- 
neer found  a  job  to  do  in  1898. 

That  evening  the  familj'  had  retired  as  usual  at  10:00  p.m.  All 
of  them  were  asleep  before  eleven  and  none  stirred  when  the  tracks 
began  to  rumble  with  the  approach  of  the  "theater  special"  from 
Deering.  So  presently  they  leaped  from  their  beds  in  a  state  of  shock 
into  a  world  filled  with  the  clanging  of  a  locomotive  bell  and  the 
rapid  tooting  of  a  whistle. 

"It's  the  theater  train,"  observed  Miss  Goldacker  in  surprise. 
"It's  stopped  and  it  isn't  supposed  to  stop  here." 

She  leaned  from  her  window  and  found  herself  looking  into  the 
face  of  the  brave  engineer  gazing  up  at  her  through  a  weird,  flicker- 
ing light. 

"Your  house  is  afire,"  he  yelled  at  her.  "Get  everybody  out." 

So  evervbody  got  out.  The  whistle  stopped  blowing.  The  train 
proceeded  on  its  way  north.  The  house  burned  down. 


^art  ofe 


ei^en 


THE     LAST     LAP 


C/u 


lapter  27 

ENTRANCE   TO   THE  NEW   CENTURY 


When  Marvin  Hughitt  took  over  tlie  presidency,  the  Chicago  and 
North  Western's  trackage  as  of  May  31,  1887,  was  4,037.23  miles; 
its  gross  earnings  were  $26,321,315.15;  its  net  income  $6,056,- 
775.77.  When  he  resigned  that  office  on  October  20,  1910,  tlie  road 
operated  7,629.45  miles  of  tracks;  its  gross  earnings  were  $74,175,- 
684.69;  its  net  income  .$22,022,005.48.  The  line  had  progressed  far 
from  "the  farmer's  railroad"  which  William  Butler  Ogden  had  vi- 
sioned  in  the  activation  of  the  old  Galena.  Then  its  genesis  had 
been  a  one-lmndred-thousand-dollar  corporation ;  authorized  capital 
stock  on  the  day  Marvin  Hughitt  stepped  down  was  $200,000,000. 
It  should  be  of  interest  to  those  who  appreciate  railroad  history 
to  glance  over  the  roster  of  directors  and  general  officers  of  the 
North  Western  as  of  August  1,  1887 — the  day  Hughitt  actually 
took  over  the  presidency.  Even  after  a  lapse  of  sixty-one  years, 
names  legendary'  in  the  big  business  of  their  day  can  be  recognized — 
a  far  call  from  the  farmers,  country  lawyers,  and  Chicago  pioneers 
who  had  made  up  Ogden's  first  Board  of  Directors.  The  road  had 
become,  thus  early,  a  national  institution. 

Directors 

Albert  Keep Chicago  Chauncey  M.  Depew New  York 

Marvin  Hughitl Chicago  Samuel  F.  Barger New  York 

N.  K.  Fairbank Chicago  H.  McK.  Twombly New  York 

Horace  Williams Clinton,  Iowa      W.  K.  A'aiiderbilt New  York 

David  P.  Kimball Boston  F.  W.  Vanderbilt New  York 

William  L.  Scott Erie  D.  O.  Mills New  York 

A.  G.  Dulman New  York  ]M.  L.  Sykes New  York 

John  M.  Burke New  York  Percj'  R.  Pyne New  York 

John  I.  Blair Blairstown,  New  Jersey 

215 


216  the    last    i,  a  i' 

Executive  Committee 

All)crl  Keep,  chairniaii  of  tlie  Board 
Marvin  Hiigliill  William  L.  Scott 

C  M.  Depow  A.  G.  Dulman 

Samuel  F.  IJarger  H.  MoK.  Twomhly 

David  P.  Kimball 

General  Officers 

IMarvin  Ilugliitt President 

*  M.  L.  Sykes Vice-president,  treasurer,  and  secretary 

*  S.  O.  Howe Assistant  treasurer  and  assistant  secretary 

M.  M.  Kirkman Comptroller 

J.  B.  Redfiekl Auditor,  assistant  secretary,  and  assistant  treasurer 

W.  H.  Stennett Auditor  of  expenditures 

John  M.  AVhitnian General  manager 

Sherburne  Sanborn General  superintendent 

Horace  G.  Burt Chief  engineer 

William  C.  Goudy General  counsel 

William  B.  Keep General  attorney 

H.  C.  Wicker Traffic  manager 

II.  R.  McCullough General  freight  agent 

W.  A.  Thrall General  ticket  agent 

Edward  P.  Wilson General  passenger  agent 

R.  W.  Hamer Purchasing  agent 

Charles  E.  Simmons Land  commissioner 

Frank  P.  Crandon Tax  commissioner 

George  W.  Tilton Superintentient  of  motive  power  and  machinery 

*  Located  in  New  York;  all  olliers  were  in  Chicago. 

The  Middle  West  and  Northwest  of  President  Hughitt's  carlv 
days  had  no  money.  The  frontier  was  always  in  debt — a  gambler's 
risk  in  the  short  spells  of  prosperity  in  between  panics  and  depres- 
sions. Hughitt,  at  the  start,  had  to  depend  on  his  intestinal  fortitude 
as  a  pioneer — which  he  certainly  was  in  the  industrial  sense  if  not 
in  the  trapper,  hunter,  and  ground-breaker  sense — and  he  had  to 
depend  also  on  the  gambling  instincts  of  the  big  bugs  of  the  eastern 
and  foreign  money  marts.  So,  in  the  second  phase  of  middle  western 
and  northw-cstcrn  development  j'ou  see  Chauncey  Depew,  two  Van- 
dcrbilts,  a  Twombly,  and  a  INIills  seated  on  the  Board  of  Directors 
of  the  North  Western.  Jay  Gould  tried  long  and  hard  to  get  on  that 
board  and  managed  to  serve  one  term;  had  he  succeeded  in  digging 


ENTRANCE  TO   THE   NEW   CENTURY  217 

in,  he  might  have  contrived  to  bleed  the  North  Western  as  white  as 
he  bled  so  many  other  roads.  But  the  line  had  a  bulldog  of  a  watch- 
man for  president.  A  rarity  among  the  great  railroads  of  the 
eighties,  the  nineties,  and  the  turn  of  the  century,  Hughitt's  road 
was  untouched  by  the  scandals  of  stock-jobbing,  stock- ribbing,  treas- 
ury bleeding.  Possibly  there  may  have  been  attempts  along  these 
lines — but  they  got  nowhere. 

His  task  was  to  construct  or  otherwise  to  bring  together  an  iron- 
clad sj'stem  radiating  out  of  Chicago,  tapping  a  new  and  growing 
spread  of  producing  and  consuming  country  the  future  vastness  of 
which,  in  terms  of  people  and  cities,  forest  and  farms,  lumber,  iron, 
gold,  lead,  and  manufactured  products,  was  realized  by  compara- 
tively few  men  of  his  day.  When  he  stepped  down  from  the  presi- 
dency of  the  North  Western  he  could  truthfully  have  said — though 
he  probably  never  said  it — that  he  had  taken  a  major  part  in  the 
social,  economic,  and  industrial  development  of  his  country.  He  had 
practically  doubled  the  trackage  of  his  railroad ;  he  had  more  than 
trebled  its  net  income.  He  must  have  been  very  tired,  but  he  must 
also  have  been  very,  verj'  pleased. 

Hughitt's  first  report  to  the  stockholders  of  the  Chicago  and 
North  Western  was  that  ending  the  fiscal  year  of  1888.  (Elected 
president  in  June,  he  signed  the  1887  report  in  August  because  of 
the  illness  of  Keep,  the  retiring  president.)  He  showed  a  total  of 
4,210.75  miles  composed  as  follows: 

Chicago  and  North  Western 2,521 .51 

Winona  and  St.  Peter 448.48 

Dakota  Central 723.93 

Toledo  and  North  Western 385 .  19 

Northern  Illinois 75.78 

Princeton  and  Western 16.06 

Sycamore,  Courtland  and  Chicago 4 .64 

Iron  River 35 .  16 

Total  mileage 4,210.75 

Hughitt  also  reported  on  the  leased  Trans-Missouri  River  lines — 
the  Sioux  City  and  Pacific,  the  Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Missouri  Val- 
ley, and  the  Wyoming  Central,  the  latter  short  line  under  construe- 


218  THE      LAST      LAP 

tioii  l)_v  the  Fremont,  Klkhorn  and  Missouri  Valley.  As  has  been 
stated,  he  was  president  of  these  leased  lines.  The  Sioux  City  and 
Pacific  had  107.42  miles,  the  Fremont,  Klkhorn  and  Missouri  Valley 
l,15-t.45  miles.  The  Wyoming  liad  built  26  miles  during  the  year. 
Adding  these  three  subsidiaries  to  the  North  Western  system  mile- 
age, Hughitt  was  operating  5,497.62  miles  of  railroad. 

His  second  year  of  office  was  a  bad  one  financially — through  no 
fault  of  his  ;  gross  earnings  took  a  dive  to  the  extent  of  $1,005,299.82 
— more  than  90  per  cent  of  which  was  decrease  in  freight  revenue, 
due  partly  to  the  failure  of  the  crops  in  Iowa  and  western  Illinois 
and  in  much  greater  measure  to  regulatory  laws — the  new  Inter- 
state ConuTicrce  Law  and  the  actions  of  state  legislatures  in  giving 
rate-making  powers  to  commissioners.  In  Minnesota  the  state  com- 
mission had  fixed  prices  for  service  at  less  than  the  actual  cash  cost 
of  performing  it.  The  commissioners  in  the  state  of  Iowa  had  estab- 
lished rates  for  the  business  of  interstate  lines  which  seemed  to  halt 
any  chance  of  return  on  capital  stock  investments. 

In  the  belief  that  "in  union  there  is  strength"  the  North  Western, 
in  company  with  the  other  railroads  concerned,  had  during  the  year 
become  a  party  to  the  "presidents'  agreement,"  which  was  launched 
because  of  complications  which  had  arisen  due  to  the  intrusion  of 
lines  which,  because  of  their  position  on  foreign  soil  (Canada),  were 
not  responsible  to  the  Interstate  Commerce  Law  under  which  the 
American  lines  had  to  contend  for  traffic.  Hughitt,  in  his  report, 
observed  that  "there  were  other  elements  of  disturbance  between  im- 
portant lines  running  out  of  Chicago." 

In  brief,  there  was  a  rate  war  on. 

1889  was  a  good  year  despite  the  Interstate  Commerce  Law  and 
the  various  state  railroad  commissions.  Although  the  average  rate 
for  each  ton  of  freight  had  been  pushed  down  from  $1.63  to  $1.50 
these  earnings  were  $19,651',21 13.21' — or  more  than  8  per  cent  over 
the  previous  year.  The  regulatory  lawmakers  probably  patted  them- 
selves on  their  backs  and  said,  "We  told  you  so."  Business  was  so 
good  that  the  railroads  forgave  the  commissioners — for  the  time 
being;  after  all,  the  more  you  haul  the  less  you  can  charge — and 
still  do  well. 

During  1890  the  North  Western  absorbed  one  of  the  largest  of 


ENTRANCE   TO   THE   NEW   CENTURY 


its  proprietary  lines — the  Toledo  and  North  Western  Railway,  con- 
sisting of  285.19  miles  of  track  in  Iowa.  It  also  completed  the  Junc- 
tion Railway  in  Cook  County,  Illinois,  completing  the  system  of  out- 
side connections  between  the  three  main  lines  of  the  company  enter- 
ing Chicago- — enabling  the  transfer  of  freight  without  bringing  it 
into  the  crowded  city  yards.  The  Paint  River  Railway  was  built 
as  an  extension  to  the  Crystal  Falls  branch  of  the  North  Western 
to  afford  transportation  facilities  to  the  tremendously  productive 
Hemlock  mine  as  well  as  to  the  other  iron  ore  mines  being  developed 
in  the  locality.  Land  grants  to  the  extent  of  53,639  acres  in  Michi- 
gan, Wisconsin,  and  Minnesota  were  sold ;  Minnesota  acres  averaged 
$6.63 ;  Wisconsin,  $2.87 ;  Michigan,  $3.08.  The  net  surplus  from  all 
sources  for  the  year  was  as  follows:  from  the  Chicago  and  North 
Western,  $234,758.60;  from  the  Trans-Missouri  River  lines,  $51,- 
951.87;  from  the  Land  Department,  $433,126.97.  Total  $719,- 
837.53. 

The  report  for  the  fiscal  year  ending  May  31,  1892,  covers  the 
operation  of  4,273.07  miles  in  so  far  as  the  Chicago  and  North 
Western  Railway  proper  and  its  proprietary  lines  were  concerned. 
The  proprietary  lines  contributed  1,188.47  miles  of  this  total,  these 
being  the  Dakota  Central,  the  Winona  and  St.  Peter,  and  the 
Princeton  and  W^estern.  The  Trans-Missouri  River  lines — the  Sioux 
City  and  Pacific  and  the  Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Missouri  Valley  (not 
yet  included  in  the  accounts  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western) 
had  1,401.96  miles — bringing  a  total  of  5,675.03  miles  of  track 
under  President  Hughitt's  supervision.  Hughitt  announced : 

The  great  extent  of  the  Company's  lines,  its  variety  of  agricultural, 
mineral  and  manufacturing  traffic,  its  movement  of  livestock,  forest  prod- 
ucts, merchandise  and  many  other  commodities,  together  with  the  growth 
of  passenger  traffic  in  all  the  growing  cities,  towns  and  country  served 
by  the  railroad,  compel  large  outlays  for  increased  terminal  facilities, 
side  and  store  tracks,  depot  enlargements,  station  accommodations,  addi- 
tional real  estate,  equipment  of  engines  and  cars,  and  double  track  con- 
struction on  many  crowded  parts  of  the  system,  to  keep  pace  with  the 
business.  In  these  respects  the  Company  has  the  past  year  provided  for 
current  requirements  with  prudent  regard  to  future  needs,  and  has  ex- 
pended the  net  sum  of  $3,911,711.17.  This  includes  $1,821,147.86  for 
new  and  additional  equipment  of  engines  and  cars,  $110,826.45  for  sec- 


220  THE      LAST     LAP 

ond  track,  $22C,C50.01  for  balance  of  cost  of  completed  roads,  $771,- 
020.18  for  8C.53  miles  new  road  laid  as  side  tracks,  $218,756.17  for  real 
estate  and  rij;lit-of-way,  and  $160,310.47  for  other  items  of  miscellaneous 
construction  and  improvements  on  the  various  lines. 

r'reight  terminals  at  West  Chicago  Shop  grounds,  with  track  capacity 
for  receiving,  switching  and  handling  1,700  cars  were  constructed,  with 
the  combined  facilities  of  a  large,  new  engine-house,  coal  sheds,  water 
supply,  etc.  Improvements  requiring  large  expenditures  arc  in  progress 
at  the  Wells  Street  passenger  station  and  yard,  and  at  other  city  stations 
in  Chicago  and  at  Milwaukee,  and  many  points  upon  the  road. 

During  the  lattei*  half  of  1892,  Hughitt  was  busy  arranging  de- 
tails for  the  acquisition  of  the  Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and  Western 
Railway  Company.  At  the  annual  meeting,  May  31,  1893,  he  was 
able  to  state  that  "the  concluding  steps  are  in  progress  at  this  time 
and  are  expected  to  be  fully  accomplished  during  the  present  sea- 
son." The  sale  was  completed  August  19,  1893. 

The  Lake  Shore,  as  it  was  generally  called  before  it  lost  its  iden- 
tity, ran  from  Milwaukee  to  Manitowoc,  its  main  line  tiien  i-unning 
inland  and  northwest  to  Little  Falls,  crossing  the  North  Western 
tracks  at  Appleton  and  forming  junction  at  Interior  Junction, 
which  was  then  a  North  Western  terminus.  The  Lake  Shore  con- 
tinued to  Little  Falls  and  from  Interior  Junction  to  Ashland  with 
lines  from  Clintonville  to  Oconto,  from  Eland  Junction  to  Marsh- 
field,  and  from  Monico  to  Hurley,  with  a  spur  between  Pratt  Junc- 
tion, Harrison,  and  Parrish  Junction.  It  added  757.71  miles  to  the 
Chicago  and  North  Western  System  along  with  60  miles  of  road 
leased  from  the  St.  Paul  Eastern  Grand  Trunk. 

In  1891  the  mileage  by  states  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western 
was  as  follows : 

In  Illinois 693.97 

In  Wisconsin 1 ,579.62 

In  Michigan 521 .19 

In  Iowa 1,163.12 

In  Minnesota 414.47 

In  South  Dakota 744.13 

In  North  Dakota 14.28 

Total 5,030.78* 

*  Exclusive  of  the  Trans-Missouri  Hivcr  lines. 


ENTRANCE  TO  THE   NEW   CENTURY  221 

In  189-i  business  was  still  in  the  doldrums  because  of  the  general 
depression  of  the  two  previous  years.  Industry  had  declined,  and 
freight  earnings  had  fallen  off  heavih' ;  passenger  traffic  had  held  its 
own  only  because  of  Chicago's  AVorld's  Fair  (a  situation  that  re- 
peated itself  during  the  second  World's  Fair  of  1933).  A  strike 
which  originated  in  the  Pullman  car  shops  spread  through  all  the 
roads  running  southwest,  northwest,  and  west  out  of  Chicago.  The 
strikes,  when  settled,  were  followed  almost  at  once  by  complete  fail- 
ure of  the  crops  in  Iowa,  Nebraska,  and  South  Dakota.  However, 
net  earnings  were  sufficient  to  pay  7  per  cent  on  the  pi'eferred  stock 
and,  after  drawing  on  the  undivided  surplus  of  previous  years,  to  pay 
4  per  cent  on  the  common — the  only  road  in  the  region  to  pay  any- 
thing. 

In  1895  the  Chicago  and  North  Western,  through  Hughitt,  turned 
its  attention  to  its  Wisconsin  grant,  then  consisting  of  284,000  acres 
of  timberlands  near  the  northern  boundary  of  Wisconsin  and  Michi- 
gan. The  land,  as  has  been  noticed,  had  been  selling — when  it  was 
selling — for  less  than  two  dollars  an  acre,  and  at  that,  the  demand 
was  light.  Hughitt  decided  to  make  the  region  accessible,  and  for 
that  jjurpose  the  Wisconsin  Northern  Railway  Company  was  formed 
to  connect  with  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  at  Big  Suamico  in 
Brown  County,  to  run  through  Brown,  Oconto,  Shawano,  Forest, 
and  Florence  counties  to  the  state  border,  a  distance  of  about  115 
miles.  The  road  was  built  on  contract  and  purchased  by  the  Chicago 
and  North  Western  in  1897 — so  some  of  Wisconsin's  finest  agricul- 
tural land  came  to  be  redeemed  from  the  forest. 

The  3'ear  1896  was  indeed  a  sad  one.  To  quote  President  Hughitt: 

A  summary  of  the  general  results  of  the  year  shows  a  decrease  in  gross 
earnings  derived  from  traffic  of  $2,51 1,517.62,  compared  with  the  earnings 
of  the  previous  year;  passenger  earnings  fell  off  $445,248.84,  and  freight 
earnings  decreased  $2,118,009.77,  with  an  increase  in  earnings  from  mail, 
express  and  miscellaneous  of  $51,740.99.  The  shrinkage  in  passenger 
business  was,  for  the  most  part,  due  to  the  decline  in  first-class  travel, 
and  evidenced  the  dulness  and  hesitation  of  business  consequent  upon  the 
uncertainties  of  financial  and  political  affairs,  which  characterized  the 
agitation  of  the  Presidential  election  during  the  greater  part  of  the 
fiscal  year. 

These  effects  were  more  disastrouslv  felt  in  reduction  of  freight  earn- 


inps.  The  tonnage  movement  fell  off  1,857,251  tons,  or  10.87  per  cent, 
and  the  reduction  in  rates  was  equal  to  a  loss  of  $903,153.92  on  the  re- 
duced traffic  of  the  year.  The  principal  decline  in  tonnage  was  in  the 
transportation  of  iron  ore  and  other  ores,  which  fell  off  1,792,526  tons, 
leaving  the  total  comparative  loss  in  tonnage  of  other  articles  which  made 
up  the  year's  movement  at  C  1,725  tons ;  there  was  a  decline  in  lumber  of 
191,221  tons;  in  wheat  and  flour  5,40-i  tons;  in  oats  2t,931  tons;  in  barley 
50,420  tons,  and  an  increase  in  corn  and  rye  of  237,000  tons ;  the  balance 
of  the  tonnage  was  made  up  of  miscellaneous  articles  as  compared  with 
the  same  articles  transported  in  the  preceding  year,  the  decrease  in  the 
movement  of  which  amounted  to  29,71'9  tons. 

The  annual  report  for  the  thirty-ninth  fiscal  year  of  existence  for 
the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway,  ending  May  31,  1898,  and 
recounting  the  accomplishments  of  the  previous  twelve  months,  was, 
dating  from  the  Galena  start,  delivered  on  the  road's  fiftieth  anni- 
versary. Hughitt  may  have  mentioned  the  matter  to  some  of  his  fel- 
low directors — but  there  is  no  reference  to  it  in  the  records ;  maybe 
folks  were  not  as  anniversary-minded  in  those  days, 

William  Jennings  Bryan,  his  "Cross  of  Gold,"  liis  "Crown  of 
Thorns,"  and  his  "Free  Silver"  had  been  successfully  buried  under 
an  avalanche  of  Republican  votes.  Major  William  McKinley  was 
President,  capital  loosed  its  purse  strings,  and  prosperity  was  again 
with  us.  Hugliitt  joyously  recited  this  ode  to  good  times: 

The  revival  in  business  during  the  past  fiscal  year  has  resulted  in  an 
increase  in  the  gross  receipts  of  the  company  of  $5,073,317.57.  After 
paying  the  current  expenses  and  taxes,  the  fixed  charges  and  usual  divi- 
dends on  preferred  and  common  stock,  there  is  a  surplus  of  $2,235,322.59. 

The  new  century  started  well  for  the  ]Middle  West  and  for  the 
railroads  that  had  contrived  it  out  of  the  wilderness.  Markets  for 
farm  products  were  good.  Building  was  active.  Manufacturers  were 
prosperous.  And  there  was  no  lack  of  money  for  land  and  town-lot 
speculation.  New  Chicagos  were  advertising  themselves  blatantly  at 
every  crossroads  or  river  landing,  and  the  burden  of  their  song  was 
always  the  same:  If  the  railroads  could  make  one  miracle  city,  they 
could  make  another,  and  this  time,  of  course,  the  hub  of  the  universe 
was  going  to  be  I.ostvillo  on  the  prairie. 

Sioux  City,  wliicli  had  been   an   imiMirtant   point    in   the   Missouri 


223 


224  THE      LAST      LAP 

Ilivcr  traffic  continued  to  be  important  with  the  early  aid  of  several 
raih'oads.  Witliin  a  few  years  it  became  a  great  com  market  and 
livestock  center.  Quite  obviously  it  was  scheduled  to  grow.  The  only 
question  was  how  much.  E.  C.  Peters  and  some  other  local  promoters 
thouf>ht  it  would  be  wise  to  set  no  limits. 

Peters  owned  a  tract  of  land  in  the  somewhat  swampy  valley  of 
the  Floyd  River.  It  was  definitely  outside  the  city  limits  and  not 
too  accessible.  So  Peters  promoted  an  elevated  railroad,  the  third 
one  ever  seen  in  the  United  States,  and  sold  building  lots  at  the  end 
of  it.  New  York  banks  that  bought  Sioux  City  mortgages  paid  a 
large  percentage  of  the  cost  of  development,  and  though  the  ele- 
vated collapsed,  Peters's  suburb  turned  out  to  be  permanent. 

Far  from  being  unique,  the  Sioux  City  case  was  typical  of  the 
period.  Prosperity  was  definitely  at  hand,  and  not  even  the  worst 
pessimist  would  venture  to  forecast  an  end  to  it.  Such  things  had 
happened  before  and  have  happened  since. 

All  the  railroads  were  doing  well  in  those  years,  the  North  West- 
ern better  than  ever.  The  3'ear  1900  was  one  of  intensive  building 
and  improvement.  Double  tracking  had  been  completed  over  333  of 
the  487  miles  between  Chicago  and  Council  Bluffs.  All  the  track 
elevation  required  by  the  Chicago  City  Council  up  to  that  date  had 
been  completed. 

A  bridge  2,750  feet  long  and  184  feet  high  was  built  across  the 
valley  of  the  Des  Moines  River  to  eliminate  a  bad  pull  over  the 
Moingona  hill  between  Boone  and  Ogden,  Iowa.  New  stations  of 
stone  and  brick  replaced  the  classic  red  wooden  depots  not  only 
along  the  main  line  but  at  such  outposts  as  Sleepy  Eye,  Minnesota, 
and  Pierre,  South  Dakota. 

A  new  line  was  extended  from  Nelson,  Illinois,  to  Peoria  and 
thence  southward  to  an  East  St.  Louis  connection  to  tap  the  Illinois 
coal  fields. 

In  1902,  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  company  offi- 
cially took  over  the  railroad,  franchise,  and  property  of  the  Fre- 
mont, Elkhorn  and  Missouri  Valley  Railroad.  The  Fremont,  Elk- 
horn  and  Missouri  Valley  Railroad,  which  had  1,372  miles  of  road, 
was  operating  lines  from  Fremont,  Nebraska,  to  Hastings,  Lincoln, 
and  Superior,  Nebraska;  to  the  Black  Hills;  and  into  Wyoming  as 
far  as  Casper. 


ENTRANCE  TO  THE   NEW   CENTURY  ^dO 

In  1905  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  extended  the  line  148 
miles  to  Lander  to  prepare  for  the  rush  that  would  come  with  the 
opening  of  1,410,000  acres  of  the  Shoshoni  reservation. 

New  extensions  were  authorized  in  1909  for  lines  in  the  St.  James 
district  and  Belle  Fourche  Valley  of  South  Dakota.  In  1911  the  new 
passenger  terminal  in  Chicago  was  opened,  and  Will  Ogden's  rail- 
road seemed  to  have  reached  the  peak  of  its  prosperity. 


Cl 


lap/er   2S 


Y  E  S  T  E  R  n  A  Y '  S     FRONTIER 


The  Northwest,  that  promised  land  of  wliicli  Will  Oydtii  had 
dreamed  and  preached,  had  cliangcd  prodigiously  since  he  had  first 
set  foot  on  it  at  the  mouth  of  the  Chicago  River  in  1835.  For  one 
tiling  it  was  no  longer  the  Northwest  any  more  than  Ohio,  Indiana, 
Illinois,  and  Wisconsin,  which  had  been  so  marked  on  tiie  maps  of 
revolutionary  times.  It  was  a  region  unlike  tlie  New  World  of  which 
it  was  a  contiguous  part  or  the  Old  World  that  had  populated  it, 
a  region  out  of  whose  mixed  bag  of  races  and  creeds  and  philosophies 
were  emerging  a  unity  of  spirit  and  something  like  an  indigenous 
culture.  And  this,  which  had  been  yesterday's  frontier,  was  now  the 
Middle  West,  axis  of  a  nation  and  potentially  the  richest  area  on 
earth. 

Ogden  had  ridden  horseback  over  the  dangerous  trails  out  of  Chi- 
cago into  the  wilderness  of  the  North  Woods,  the  unpromising  groves 
and  rolling  meadows  of  what  was  to  be  Iowa,  the  desolate  emptiness 
of  uncharted  valleys  in  the  territory  beyond  the  upper  jMississippi — 
even  to  the  barren  edges  of  the  red  Missouri.  And  he  had  seen  things 
in  these  vast  solitudes  that  other  men  could  not  see.  He  had  pictured 
the  advance  of  civilization  a  thousand  miles,  not  in  a  hundred  years 
or  two  hundred,  but  in  a  single  generation.  He  had  lived  to  see  the 
fulfillment  of  his  vision  but  not  to  realize  the  extent  of  it.  He  died 
most  likely  without  knowing  that  he  had  earned  a  place  among  the 
empire  builders. 

William  IJutler  Ogden  had  been  a  prophet  but  he  had  never  been 
enough  of  a  prophet  to  foresee  the  caprices  of  steam  transport. 

He  had  believed  that  the  railroad  would  bring  some  big  business 
to  the  sprawling  town  that  accident  had  dropped  at  the  foot  of  I-ake 
Michigan.  But  never  in  his  right  mind  would  lie  have  predicted  that 

226 


YESTERDAY     S      FRONTIER 


227 


the  steam  locomotive,  passing  by  more  logical  prospects,  would  drag 
this  improbable  village  out  of  a  swamp  to  a  place  among  the  world's 
first  five  cities.  Out  of  an  abiding  and  convincing  faith  he  had 
preached  of  wonders  that  would  one  day  come  out  of  the  never-never 
land  beyond  the  end  of  the  rail.  But  he  could  not  have  told  what  the 
wonders  would  be.  He  had  looked  into  the  future  to  see  great  oceans 
of  ripening  wheat  and  Babylonian  towers  filled  with  yellow  com.  He 
knew  all  about  the  treks  and  traffic  of  the  voyageurs,  hunters,  and 
traders.  But  he  died  without  ever  having  heard  of  the  Merritt 
brothers  or  of  the  fabulous  Mesabi  iron  range.  He  had  heard  that  a 
gold  strike  had  been  made  in  the  Black  Hills — but  there  was  no  rail 
into  the  Black  Hills,  not  yet. 

The  wealth  of  the  land  had  been  sufficient  to  bring  his  railroad 
through  depressions  he  had  not  envisioned.  Transcontinental  trains 
were  rolling  in  and  out  of  Chicago  over  the  tracks  of  the  Chicago 
and  North  Western  Railway.  Frontiers  were  rapidly  receding.  The 
Indians  were  quiet  now  .  .  .  there  wouldn't  be  any  more  blood- 
letting like  the  affair  of  the  Little  Big  Horn — not  likely.  Will  Ogden 
could  die  content  in  the  thought  that  the  pioneers  had  won  the  West 
and  that  the  nation  was  now  a  glorious  prosperous  unit  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  A  lot  of  his  contemporaries  shared  the 
thought:  Have  I  flayed  well  the  -part?  Give  me  then  your  applause. 
Not  even  then  was  any  man  in  America  seer  enough  to  foretell  what 
the  trend  of  the  drama  was  going  to  be  or  its  climax. 

Ogden  had  been  dead  some  twenty  years.  Across  the  skyline  above 
Pig's-Eye  on  the  Mississippi  stretched  the  tall  massed  cylinders  of 
the  grain  elevators,  in  many  ways  the  most  tremendous  architecture 
that  had  been  given  to  the  world  since  Egypt.  Towering  cities  had 
grown  out  of  the  settlements  about  St.  Anthony  Falls  and  out  of  the 
hamlets  of  Omaha  and  Council  Bluffs  and  Sioux  City  and  Sioux 
Falls  and  Des  Moines  and  Rockford  and  Elgin  and  out  of  the  dreamy 
villages  by  the  Lake  Michigan  shore.  A  great  university  had  risen 
between  the  lakes  at  Madison.  The  barren  reaches  of  upper  Michi- 
gan were  alive  with  a  new  sort  of  pioneering  citizenry  that  attacked 
the  earth  with  dynamite  and  drills  instead  of  plows.  There  was  no 
longer  any  wilderness  in  Wisconsin.  Green  fields  had  replaced  the 
cutover  lands,  and  dairy  herds  roamed  picturesquely  and  profitably 


228  TUB      LAST      LAP 

tliroiif^h  tlie  ^rccn  fields.  And  population  was  virtually  continuous 
from  Beloit  to  Superior. 

The  milling  industry  had  already  made  the  Twin  Cities  famous. 
The  greatest  primary  wheat  market  in  the  world  had  sprung  up  in 
South  Dakota.  As  a  cattle  shipping  center,  Omaha  was  beginning 
to  rival  Chicago.  A  truly  remarkable  clinic  in  the  cornfields  at 
Rochester,  Minnesota,  was  attracting  international  attention.  Iowa 
corn  and  hogs  liad  become  a  principal  factor  in  the  nation's  food 
supply,  and  a  dozen  industrial  enterprises  were  getting  under  way 
in  a  dozen  Iowa  towns.  The  Black  Hills  hud  become  one  of  the  great- 
est gold-producing  areas  in  the  world.  Thousands  and  thousands  of 
head  of  cattle  were  on  the  ranges  about  Belle  Fourche  and  the  green 
plateaus  of  the  Bad  Lands.  Indian  reservations  were  being  opened 
up,  and  the  tide  of  settlement  was  still  flowing  West.  Day  and  night 
the  copper  and  iron  poured  into  the  loading  hoppers  along  the 
Lake  Superior  littoral. 

Out  to  the  far  corners  of  a  region  that  fifty  j'ears  before  had  been 
virtually  unexplored  went  long  trainloads  of  manufactured  goods, 
building  materials,  farm  implements,  industrial  tools,  hardware,  and 
the  like.  Back  came  an  incredible  avalanche  of  wheat,  oats,  barley, 
rye,  hay,  potatoes,  fish,  livestock,  dressed  meat,  gold,  silver,  arsenic, 
granite,  brick,  fire  clay,  cement,  feldspar,  sausage,  soy  beans,  fruit, 
spodumene,  gypsum,  cement,  lumber,  butter,  marble,  salt,  mica,  rock 
wool,  eggs,  nuts,  sugar  beets,  poultry,  cheese,  corn,  clover  seed, 
money — the  list  is  endless. 

This,  then,  is  the  Middle  West. 

It  is  also  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway.  Look  at  the 
map  of  this  amazing  region  from  the  Kansas  state  line  to  Duluth 
and  from  Milwaukee  to  Lander,  Wyoming.  You  find  the  white  spaces 
of  Ogden's  time  filled  up  now  with  the  names  of  literally  hundreds  of 
towns  that  have  come  to  mean  something  in  the  American  economy, 
and  laced  across  the  picture  in  a  pattern  that  looks  something  like 
a  graph  of  the  human  circulatory  system  is  the  chart  of  North 
Western's  9,729  miles  of  steel. 

The  reason,  of  course,  is  obvious.  The  steam  railroad  made  these 
towns  just  as  it  made  a  fertile  homeland  out  of  the  barren  West. 

In  Europe,  when  finally  practical  necessity  overcame  public 
phobia  and  the  laj'ing  of  rails  began,  the  problem  of  the  surveyors 


YESTERDAY     S      FRONTIER 


229 


was  to  link  up  existing  towns  as  best  they  could.  In  the  old  North- 
west Territory  and  the  unknown  lands  beyond,  there  were  no  towns. 
The  railroad  laid  them  out,  named  them,  populated  them,  and  nursed 
them  through  their  formative  years.  It  gave  them  an  excuse  for  ex- 
istence hundreds  of  miles  from  deep  rivers  and  scores  of  miles  from 
other  human  habitation.  It  enabled  them  to  thrive  in  isolation  in  the 
midst  of  forests  or  on  prairies  as  free  of  track  or  trail  as  the  bosom 
of  the  Atlantic.  And  whatever  the  lavish  natural  resources  of  this 
area,  the  advantages  of  benign  weather  and  the  enterprise  of  the 
people  who  followed  the  locomotive  whistles  westward,  the  great  Mid- 
dle West,  as  a  region,  a  culture,  or  an  attitude  of  mind,  is  definitely 
the  creation  of  the  railroad. 

The  North  Western's  progress  into  this  mysterious  realm,  like 
that  of  all  lines  west  of  the  Mississippi,  was  in  three  stages.  First  the 
trains  came  after  the  pioneer,  as  in  the  Des  Plaines  Valley  in  IS^S 
and  later  among  the  marooned  towns  of  the  lush  valley  of  the  Min- 
nesota. Then,  as  in  the  mining  country  and  parts  of  Iowa,  they 
moved  forward  virtually  at  his  side.  And  finally  they  were  ahead  of 
him  out  on  the  flats  and  into  the  Indian  country,  leading  him  on 
to  a  promised  land. 

Will  Ogden  lived  to  see  some  of  this  transition,  but  by  no  means 
its  most  important  part.  Today  he  probably  would  be  unable  to 
recognize  the  names  of  dozens  of  men  who  helped  give  substance  to 
his  vision.  In  his  declining  years  perhaps  he  had  heard  of  Carl 
Schurz  who  had  led  a  number  of  German  intellectuals  and  liberals 
into  Wisconsin  after  the  unsuccessful  revolution  in  Baden  in  18-18. 
Schurz  had  been  the  friend  and  advisor  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  He  had 
been  Secretary  of  the  Interior  and  an  advocate  of  timber  conserva- 
tion, and  his  voice  had  been  heard  far  across  the  land.  But  it  is  less 
likely  that  the  great  railroad  builder  had  ever  met  or  been  concerned 
with  a  Scotch  lad  named  John  Muir  whose  father  followed  the  lure 
of  the  railroad  to  a  spot  near  Madison.  Certainly  he  would  have 
no  ideas  about  Robert  M.  La  Toilette  or  Frank  Lloyd  Wright  or 
what  they  might  stand  for. 

On  the  whole  the  characters  of  the  period  were  as  fantastic  as  the 
conditions  that  produced  them.  Ignatius  Donnelly,  erratic  genius, 
came  to  Minnesota  in  1856  to  map  the  town  of  Nininger,  stir  the  ter- 
ritory's political  and  social  life,  establish  the  authorship  of  Shake- 


230  T  II  K      LAST      LAP 

spcarc's  plays,  and  explore  the  lost  continent  of  Atlantis.  His  weird 
essays  into  the  unknown,  his  striking  success  as  a  best-selling  author 
had  no  effect  on  the  westward  course  of  the  rails.  The  fact  that  he 
was  able  to  get  elected  to  a  scat  in  the  United  States  Senate  did. 
He  didn't  like  tlie  policies  of  the  railroad  operators — and  he  was  as 
powerful  as  he  was  prejudiced. 

Wiien  Douglass  Houghton,  a  young  explorer,  wrecked  his  dory 
and  drowned  off  the  Keeweenaw  peninsula  in  Lake  Superior,  the  news 
was  a  long  time  getting  down  to  tlic  Chicago  and  North  AVestcrn 
Railway  offices  in  Chicago.  Destiny  is  never  in  much  of  a  hurry.  But 
from  tlie  wreck  of  Houghton's  boat  an  Indian  guide  saved  his  field 
notes,  and  the  notes  told  about  the  wonderful  copper  ore  of  upper 
Michigan. 

The  Mcrritt  brothers,  I.eonidas,  Napoleon,  Jerome,  Cassius,  Al- 
fred, Lucius,  and  Lewis,  were  timber  cruisers  who  found  some  red 
dust  on  a  slope  just  west  of  Lake  Superior  in  Minnesota  that  the 
Indians  call  "the  height  of  land."  The  other  name  for  it  is  Mesabi. 
A  bo3'  set  out  from  a  little  town  in  the  Root  River  Valley  on  a 
dubious  venture.  With  a  gift  of  persuasion  that  cannot  be  over- 
appraised  he  had  succeeded  in  borrowing  a  team  of  horses  from  his 
cautious  father.  "The  lumber  companies  are  getting  away  from  the 
rivers,"  he  said.  "They  will  need  transport.  With  a  team  of  horses  I 
can  earn  enough  money  hauling  logs  in  one  season  to  buy  a  share  of 
a  business  for  myself."  The  little  boy's  name  was  Weyerhaeuser. 

A  doctor  in  Le  Sueur,  who  never  could  collect  his  bills  and  so  was 
forced  to  run  a  steamboat  on  the  Minnesota  River  as  a  side  line,  got 
some  original  ideas  about  surgery.  He  went  to  Chicago,  conferred 
with  medical  rebels  like  Occhsner,  Billings,  and  Murphy,  and  came 
home.  He  never  had  any  notions  about  being  a  miracle  man  and  he 
had  had  no  experience  in  the  building  of  better  mousetraps.  But 
presently  the  world  was  beating  a  path  to  his  door.  He  took  his 
talent  and  his  sons.  Will  and  Charlie,  to  Rochester  and  opened  a 
larger  office.  He  was  Dr.  William  Worrell  Mayo. 

H.  N.  Ross,  a  professional  miner  with  the  Custer  expedition  sent 
out  to  examine  the  resources,  if  any,  of  the  Black  Hills,  looked  at 
the  sand  remaining  in  his  pan  and  saw  gold.  Chief  Sitting  Bull  and 
his  Sioux  braves  rode  north  and  got  ready  for  the  massacre  of  tlie 
Little  Biy  Horn. 


YESTERDAY     S     FRONTIER 


231 


More  gold  was  discovered  in  Deadwood  Gulch,  and  a  town  sprang 
up.  Wild  Bill  Hickok  was  shot  in  it.  Jack  McCall  was  hanged.  Beadle 
began  to  print  a  dime  novel  entitled  Deadwood  Dick,  and  presently 
all  the  rainbow  chasers,  gamblers,  thieves,  roustabouts,  harlots,  and 
high-graders  in  the  Missouri  Valley  were  on  their  way  to  the  gold 
fields. 

Captain  Meriwether  Lewis  and  Lieutenant  William  Clark  passed 
along  the  route  of  the  Chicago,  St.  Paul,  Minneapolis  and  Omaha 
Railway  between  Council  Bluffs  and  Sioux  City  long  before  the  sur- 
veyors or  the  now-forgotten  Kilroy.  One  of  their  party.  Sergeant 
Floyd,  was  stricken  with  what  one  of  them  diagnosed  as  a  "Billiouse 
Chorlick."  He  died  at  the  mouth  of  the  little  river  that  now  bears 
his  name.  The  expedition  went  on  to  plant  the  flag  on  the  Pacific 
shore  and  to  claim  what  was  actually  the  Northwest  Territory  for 
the  United  States. 

Mike  Fink,  legendary  trapper  and  river  boatman,  was  up  in  these 
parts  when  no  man's  land  began  twenty  feet  from  either  side  of  the 
Missouri.  He  left  a  record  for  mayhem  and  murder  all  the  way  from 
St.  Louis  to  the  Yellowstone. 

After  these  worthy  pioneers  came  Pierre  Chouteau,  the  fur  dealer, 
who  opened  a  trading  post  west  of  the  river.  The  LTnited  States  Cav- 
alry came  along  in  1854  and  took  advantage  of  Chouteau's  spade- 
work  to  establish  a  military  base.  They  called  it  Fort  Pierre.  It 
seemed  to  offer  few  advantages  as  a  railroad  terminal,  even  had  there 
been  any  railroads.  Considered  with  information  denied  the  aging 
Will  Ogden,  it  seems  unlikely  even  now. 

There  were  giants  or  a  reasonable  facsimile  along  the  river  in 
those  days.  The  North  Western  came  into  Sioux  City  in  1868.  Wait- 
ing for  it  was  one  E.  C.  Peters  who  figured  the  influx  of  population 
it  was  presently  to  bring  and  decided  to  do  something  about  it.  He 
built  an  elevated  railroad. 

Ogden  probably  heard  the  tragic  news  of  General  George  Arm- 
strong Custer  before  his  passing.  Word  of  the  encounter  with  Sitting 
Bull  was  a  long  time  filtering  back  to  civilization  and  difficult  to  be- 
lieve, but  it  got  there  eventually.  Custer  and  the  276  men  of  his  com- 
mand had  been  wiped  out  in  half  an  hour's  fighting.  But  the  railroad 
builder  knew  nothing  of  the  end  of  hostilities  and  the  treaty  by 
which  the  Indians  gave  up  all  claim  to  western  South  Dakota.  Nor 


282  THE      LAST      LAP 

did  he  have  any  inkling  of  the  advent  of  the  medicine  man  Wovoka 
wlio  promised  to  raise  up  the  ghosts  of  dead  Sioux  warriors  to  lead 
the  living  in  the  extermination  of  the  whites. 

Up  from  Chadron,  Nebraska,  the  Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Missouri 
Valley,  later  part  of  the  North  Western,  came  into  the  hills — to 
Rapid  City  in  188G,  Whitcwood  in  1887,  Belle  Fourchc  and  Dead- 
wood,  1890.  Westward  from  Chadron  at  the  same  time  the  tracks 
were  pushed  to  the  Wyoming  state  line  in  188G;  Douglas,  Wyoming, 
1887;  Casper,  1888. 

The  great  Sioux  reservation  was  about  to  be  broken  up.  Cattle 
were  already  running  in  the  West  River  country.  Scotty  Philip 
had  a  tremendous  ranch  near  Pierre  where  he  was  trying  to  breed 
the  biggest  herd  of  buffalo  on  earth.  On  White  River,  near  the  Hills, 
Corbin  Morse  of  Rapid  City  was  grazing  a  couple  of  thousand  iicad 
of  white-faced  Herefords. 

The  gold  camps  were  still  roaring,  but  in  no  considerable  volume. 
The  overnight  millionaire  hadn't  been  seen  in  Deadwood  for  a  long 
time  now.  There  weren't  any  pockets  left  along  Elacktail  Creek  or 
Gold  Run. 

Claims  were  being  consolidated  and  passing  into  the  hands  of 
four  or  five  wealthy  operators.  Individualists — lone  sourdoughs 
with  pick  and  pan — no  longer  could  hope  to  find  a  footing  in  Lead. 
Lead  belonged  to  the  Homestake.  And  the  Homcstake  belonged  to 
Phoebe  Hearst. 

Across  the  hill  were  enough  paying  mines  to  provide  some  compe- 
tition— the  Oro  Hondo  (said  to  be  owned  by  Millikin  who  had  just 
sold  the  (jolden  Cycle  of  Cripple  Creek)  ;  the  Wasps,  Number  1  and 
Number  2;  the  Montezuma;  and  the  Wiiizzers.  Most  of  these  were 
low-grade  mines,  and  it  was  obvious  that  any  operator  might  easily 
put  more  gold  into  them  than  he  was  likely  to  take  out.  There  was 
plenty  of  nervous  tension  up  in  the  northern  Hills — and  drama  and 
suspense — and  good  business  for  the  railroad. 

Poker  Alice  was  playing  a  few  hands  nightly  in  Sturgis,  unaware 
that  it  was  a  matter  of  anybody's  business  but  her  own.  Potato  Creek 
Johnny,  not  yet  looked  upon  as  a  quaint  old  character  by  the  other 
denizens  of  the  Hills,  was  trying  to  keep  body  and  soul  together 
j)anning  a  dollar  or  two  every  day  or  so  out  of  Potato  Creek.  Dead- 
wood  Dick  was  still  just  a  character  in  Beadle's  dime  novels. 


YESTERDAY     S     FRONTIER 


233 


On  December  15,  1890,  cavalry  and  Indian  police  were  sent  to 
arrest  Sitting  Bull  to  keep  him  from  joining  a  Sioux  uprising.  The 
chief  resisted  and  was  shot  through  the  head. 

A  week  later  in  the  Harney  bar  in  Rapid  City  a  general  stared 
glassily  into  his  whisky  while  at  Wounded  Knee  Creek  a  regiment  of 
trigger-happy  soldiers  slaughtered  a  couple  of  hundred  Indians,  in- 
cluding women  and  children,  who  had  already  surrendered.  Buffalo 
Bill,  with  Mayor  John  R.  Brennan  of  Rapid  City,  paid  a  visit  to  the 
Wounded  Knee  "battlefield."  He  refused  to  talk  about  it. 

C.  D.  Crouch  and  a  young  British  army  engineer,  ¥.  S.  D.  Brough- 
ton,  began  to  promote  a  railroad  through  the  Black  Hills  from 
Rapid  City  to  Mystic  on  the  west  slope,  by  way  of  Rapid  Canyon, 
a  tortuous  pass.  His  backers,  it  was  said,  were  hoping  to  sell  their 
34  miles  of  right  of  way  to  some  railway  that  might  need  it  as  a 
link  in  a  transcontinental  route. 

All  of  this  was  in  the  backgi-ound  as  the  Chicago  and  North  West- 
ern Railway  entered  upon  the  last  168  miles  of  its  western  advance 
at  the  turn  of  the  century.  Most  of  the  characters  were  on  the  stage. 
But  not  all.  Still  to  be  heard  from  were  Gutzon  Borglum,  the  moun- 
tain-carver, silent  Cal  Coolidge,  a  visitor  from  New  Hampshire, 
Governor  William  J.  Bulow,  a  harried  reception  committee,  and  Alex 
Johnson,  an  able  diplomat — nobody  could  have  predicted  any  of 
them,  either,  in  the  days  when  William  Butler  Ogden  was  urging  the 
Pioneer  on  its  solemn  round  to  Oak  Park.  But  it  seems  to  have  been 
that  way  with  most  of  the  people  whose  destiny  was  linked  with  the 
railroad's  varied  progress.  When  there  was  need  for  them  to  appear, 
they  appeared.  It  was  inevitable. 


C/iap/er   29 


r 

AGAIN     A     FARMER'S     RAILROAD 


One  of  the  results  of  tlie  contest  over  the  state  capital  site  previ- 
ously referred  to  was  that  the  North  Western  Railway  set  out  from 
Pierre,  South  Dakota,  to  tiie  Black  Hills  with  what  was  to  be  the 
last  important  building  program  up  to  the  present  day.  In  this  as 
in  the  campaign  for  votes  there  was  open  rivalry  with  the  Milwaukee 
road  which  had  also  become  interested  in  the  West  River  country. 
It  was  one  of  those  shows  that  for  so  many  years  made  Dakota  rail- 
roading so  interesting  and  unpredictable.  The  two  lines  started  West 
together. 

They  moved  away  from  the  IMissouri  River  at  the  height  of  iin 
important  boom.  By  the  turn  of  the  century  the  effects  of  the  slump 
of  the  late  eighties  were  disappearing.  Crops  were  good,  transporta- 
tion was  good,  and  prices  were  liigh  in  the  eastern  markets.  Once 
more  the  farmers  were  prosperous. 

At  the  same  time  changes  had  occurred  in  the  hill  country.  No 
new  strikes  of  any  significance  had  been  made  in  the  Deadwood  area. 
The  gold  ore  was  still  low  grade.  But  there  was  plenty  of  it,  and  new 
extraction  processes  and  efficient  operating  methods  had  made  it 
extremely  profitable. 

The  Holy  Terror  mine  at  Keystone,  in  the  southern  hills,  had  be- 
come a  big  producer,  and  small,  high-grade  mines  in  the  vicinity 
were  keeping  the  Rapid  City  smelter  busy.  Tiiere  were  the  cus- 
tomary bonanza  tides  of  loose  money  in  the  district  and  almost  un- 
limited markets  for  whatever  anybody  might  want  to  sell. 

Also,  along  the  White  River  and  both  forks  of  the  Chej^eniie,  cattle 
were  being  run  in  increasing  numbers.  Areas  that  had  not  been  con- 
sidered suitable  for  farming  were  being  put  to  jiractical  use.  And 

234 


AGAIN      A     farmer's     RAILROAD  235 

South  Dakota's  overenthusiastic  champions  were  beginning  to  tell 
the  world  that  there  was  no  wasteland  in  all  the  state. 

Inasmuch  as  the  bad  years  had  most  affected  the  country  west  of 
the  river,  it  was  the  West  River  country  that  profited  most  by  chang- 
ing conditions.  The  population  of  this  region,  largely  with  railroad 
assistance,  was  to  increase  from  50,600  to  136,700  between  1900 
and  1910.  In  the  same  period  the  state  census  was  to  Icngtiicn  from 
401,500  to  583,800. 

The  railroads  had  brought  their  lines  to  the  Missouri  River  in 
1880.  From  that  point  expansion  had  been  hampered  by  the  fact 
that  most  of  the  land  to  the  west  was  taken  up  by  tlie  Great  Sioux 
reservation,  but  along  about  1900  the  government  began  to  make 
plans  to  release  some  of  the  region  for  white  settlement.  In  1902,  the 
Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Missouri  Valley  branch  of  the  North  West- 
ern built  69  miles  of  road  from  Verdigre,  Nebraska,  to  Bonesteel  in 
the  Rosebud  reservation  district,  west  of  the  Missouri  and  in  the 
soutliern  part  of  the  state.  In  190-1  the  Rosebud  was  thrown  open. 

The  ensuing  land  rush,  the  first  South  Dakota  had  seen  in  many 
years,  was  spectacular,  exciting,  and,  so  far  as  the  North  Western 
was  concerned,  a  commercial  success.  The  government  followed  a 
new  procedure  in  the  distribution.  Two  thousand  five  hundred  claims 
of  160  acres  each,  a  total  of  400,000  acres,  were  put  up  for  sale  at 
four  dollars  an  acre.  The  wild  scramble  of  the  "Cherokee  Strip" 
and  similar  land  grabs  had  taught  the  Department  of  the  Interior 
some  valuable  lessons.  So  prospective  buyers  were  required  to  regis- 
ter for  an  assignment  of  claims  as  drawn  by  lot. 

AVith  2,500  claims  available,  106,308  persons  signed  their  names 
for  the  lottery.  Most  of  them,  of  course,  were  speculators  who  hoped 
to  win  a  good  claim  and  sell  it  to  some  actual  settler  at  a  profit. 
Others  were  just  the  same  sort  of  land  gamblers  who  had  followed 
the  rails  West  in  the  first  place.  Literally  thousands  of  such  people 
rode  the  North  Western's  new  extension  up  into  the  reservation  just 
to  look  at  land  that  might  or  might  not  be  like  what  they  could  or 
could  not  hope  to  win  in  a  lottery  with  the  chances  forty-two  to  one 
against  them. 

The  registration  offices  were  swamped.  More  than  7,000  filed  past 
the  clerks  in  Yankton  in  one  day.  A  thousand  were  in  line  at  opening 
time  the  next  morning.  They  had  slept  all  night  in  the  streets. 


880  THE      LAST      LAP 

A  carload  of  eatables  was  brought  down  from  Sioux  Falls  to  feed 
these  enthusiasts.  It  was  sold  out  before  noon. 

It  was  obvious  after  such  demonstrations  that  movement  into 
other  parts  of  the  West  River  country  was  inevitable.  Alex  Johnson, 
then  general  agent  for  the  North  Western  at  Winona,  Minnesota, 
loader  of  the  Pierre  forces  in  the  capital  fight,  tells  of  the  situation 
in  his  diary : 

In  the  latter  part  of  1904  it  was  decided  to  extend  the  road  to  Rapid 
City. 

Immediately  after  tlie  vote  in  the  capital  fight,  local  representatives 
of  the  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul  had  announced  that  they  would 
build  from  Chamberlain  to  the  Black  Hills.  President  Ilugliitt  made  no 
comment  on  tliis  subject  except  tliat  if  any  road  were  to  be  built  to  Rapid 
City  his  would  be  first.  And  it  was. 

Both  roads  started  working  out  of  their  East  and  West  terminals  at 
once — the  Milwaukee  from  Cliamberlain  and  Rapid,  the  North  Western 
from  Pierre  and  Rapid.  On  the  Pierre,  Rapid  City  line  the  construction 
crews  met  near  Pliilip  and  drove  the  theoretical  gold  spike  without  cere- 
mony. 

Tlie  first  train  to  enter  Rapid  City  from  the  ^Missouri  was  the  North 
Western.  It  arrived  on  August  7,  1907.  Milwaukee's  line  wasn't  completed 
until  three  months  later.  Considering  that  we  had  to  go  only  167  miles 
against  the  Milwaukee's  220  it  had  been  an  unequal  contest  from  the 
beginning. 

The  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  purchased  right  of  way  for 
a  part  of  the  distance  and  followed  the  Bad  River  to  the  Cheyenne.  The 
Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul  followed  the  White  River  and  crossed 
through  the  Bad  Lands.  The  North  Western  passed  within  eight  miles  of 
the  Bad  Lands  at  Wall. 

The  two  roads  were  thus  actively  competitive. 

Better  transportation  as  usual  brought  settlers  into  the  west 
country.  More  land  was  offered  for  settlement  on  the  Rosebud 
reservation. 

In  1908,  6,000  homesteads  were  put  on  sale,  most  of  them  at  six 
dollars  an  acre,  the  remainder  at  $4'. 50  and  $2.50  an  acre.  There 
were  114,769  registrations  in  the  lottery  that  governed  the  sale. 
Fifteen  trains  a  day  brought  landseekers  into  the  Dallas,  South 
Dakota,  terminal  of  a  North  Western  line  extended  from  Bonesteel. 


AGAIN     A      farmer's     RAILROAD  237 

Fifteen  thousand  persons,  including  a  number  of  women,  registered 
in  one  day. 

The  west  end  of  the  Lower  Brule  reservation,  on  the  Missouri 
about  halfway  between  Pierre  and  Chamberlain,  was  opened  in  1907. 
Two  years  later  parts  of  the  Cheyenne  River  and  Standing  Rock 
reservations  were  made  available.  Thousands  upon  thousands  of 
hopeful  people,  a  large  portion  of  them  strangers  to  farming  even 
in  theory,  poured  into  the  West  River  country.  Barbed-wire  fences 
began  to  appear  in  the  most  unlikely  places.  The  free  ranges  on 
which  the  great  herds  had  been  wandering  since  the  middle  eighties 
were  split  up.  The  native  grasses  which  had  made  this  a  favored 
grazing  area  in  wet  season  or  dry  went  under  the  plow.  There  were 
loud  outcries  from  the  cattlemen.  And  there  were  warnings  from 
railroad  men  who  knew  the  country,  including  Alex  Johnson. 

"We  had  solicited  livestock  business  in  this  entire  area,"  he  said,  "so 
it  was  well  known  that  by  me  and  many  others  it  was  classed  as  an  ex- 
clusive livestock  grazing  range.  Others,  obviously,  thought  it  was  an 
agricultural  country.  But  it  has  been  pretty  well  demonstrated  that  it  is 
an  agricultural  country  only  when  there  is  sufficient  rainfall — and  the 
rainfall  is  not  dependable." 

He  spoke  from  experience  on  this  point.  He  and  Marvin  Hughitt, 
Jr.,  bought  a  ranch  near  Midland,  South  Dakota,  in  the  dry  farm- 
ing area  and  worked  it  with  the  best  available  scientific  advice  but 
otherwise  as  any  settler  would  have  had  to  work  it.  They  just  about 
broke  even  for  five  years.  After  that  they  sold  at  a  price  twelve 
hundred  dollars  above  what  they  had  paid  for  the  land.  After  pay- 
ing outstanding  bills,  Johnson's  share  of  this  profit  was  $134.  But 
he  emerged  from  the  transaction  with  some  understanding  of  what 
would  have  to  be  done  if  the  West  River  country  and  the  railroads 
serving  it  were  to  survive. 

Apparently  he  had  some  serious  talks  on  the  subject  with  Presi- 
dent Hughitt.  He  wrote: 

Mr.  Hughitt  was  convinced,  when  he  found  out  how  many  settlers  were 
moving  into  our  territory,  that  many  of  them  were  prepared  to  do  grain 
farming  on  the  basis  of  land  agents'  estimates,  activities  and  publicity. 
And  again  and  again  he  instructed  that  plans  should  be  made  to  help 


238  THE      LAST      LAP 

these  settlers.  We  culled  on  the  State  Agricultural  College  at  Brookings 
for  help  as  we  had  done  many  times  before. 

We  brought  in  experts  in  dairy  grasses  and  hardy  seeds,  livestock  and 
subjects  that  pertain  to  tliat  part  of  the  country  and  we  started  on  an 
agricultural  program. 

We  were  not  so  successful.  Tlie  settlers  were  all  range  livestock  men. 
They  were  not  radical.  But  their  recitals  of  personal  experience  were  not 
encouraging  to  newcomers  and  there  were  many  obstacles  to  be  over- 
come. .  .  . 

The  program  went  on  nevertheless.  The  North  Western's  farm 
experts  finally  got  some  cooperation  in  plans  for  crop  rotation  and 
diversification  and  soil  conservation.  Corn  began  to  grow  in  regions 
that  had  been  thought  unsuited  to  it.  Great  wheat  districts  like  the 
St.  James  Valley,  no  longer  dependent  on  a  single  crop,  have  since 
come  through  all  disasters  save  collapsing  money  markets  and 
droughts  like  that  of  1936  with  some  show  of  profit. 

As  for  the  cattle  country,  the  Federal  government  started  to  do 
something  about  saving  it  in  lO.'JO.  Numbers  of  claims  tiiat  liad  been 
futilely  worked  as  farms  were  brought  back  from  the  settlers  taken 
out  of  cultivation  and  seeded  with  grass.  Earthen  dams  were  built 
to  impound  rainfall  and  increase  the  number  of  watering  places.  The 
program  is  by  no  means  comprehensive  but  it  has  had  its  beneficial 
effects.  Western  South  Dakota  is  still  one  of  the  world's  great  live- 
stock producing  areas. 

It  was  the  livestock  business  that  lured  the  North  Western  sub- 
sidiar}',  the  Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Missouri  Valley  Railroad,  to  the 
Wyoming  state  line  in  188G,  and  another  subsidiary,  the  Wyoming 
Central  Railway,  from  that  point  to  Casper  in  1888  and  on  to  Lan- 
der in  1905.  The  cowboy  is  still  the  most  important  figure  in  that 
end  of  the  country,  and  livestock  movements  are  still  sufficient  to 
justify  an  outpost  of  the  old  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  Railroad 
at  the  foot  of  the  Tetons. 

But  that  isn't  all  of  tlic  stor^'.  The  visionaries  who  were  still  in- 
sisting on  pushing  the  North  Western  across  the  great  plains  had 
more  than  their  usual  luck.  In  1890  oil  was  found  in  the  Salt  Creek 
field — a  high  quality  of  oil  that  amazed  the  experts.  A  refinery  was 


AGAIN      A      FARMER     S      RAILROAD 


built  at  Casper  in  1895.  Two  pipe  lines  were  run  to  tjic  field  in  1916, 
and  the  boom  was  on. 

The  period  of  mass  h^-stcria  ended  some  time  after  World  War  I, 
and  Casper  has  gone  about  its  business  more  quietly  ever  since. 
But  there  is  still  oil  in  the  Salt  Creek  field  and  plenty  of  demand 
for  it  back  where  the  North  Western  Railway  comes  from. 

As  for  the  rest  of  this  Wyoming  line,  you  can  find  coal  along  it 
almost  anywhere  you  look. 

Rapid  City,  terminus  of  the  line  from  Pierre,  had  been  a  place  of 
many  guises  during  the  brief  but  spectacular  history  of  the  Black 
Hills.  It  had  been  located  by  John  Brennan,  Samuel  Scott,  and 
others  as  the  prospective  center  of  a  prospective  farming  com- 
munity. The  farms  were  a  long  time  coming. 

With  the  arrival  of  the  stage  line  from  Sidney-,  Nebraska,  in  1876, 
the  town  became  a  supply  station  and  hay  camp.  Despite  intermit- 
tent gold  discoveries  in  the  neighborhood  it  remained  a  hay  camp 
until  the  advent  of  the  railroad  ten  years  later. 

In  the  eighties  quartz  mining  was  going  on  extensively  in  the 
Keystone  and  Rockerville  districts,  and  ore  was  being  hauled  in  by 
ox  teams  to  a  smelter  in  Rapid.  The  community,  then,  was  a  counter- 
part of  Deadwood  or  Lead  or  any  of  the  other  gold-mining  towns 
in  the  northern  hills. 

The  high-grade  ores  of  the  neighborhood  played  out,  or  lack  of 
water  or  litigation  stopped  the  operation  of  the  mines  that  had  been 
feeding  Rapid.  So  the  smelter  closed  up  and  eventually  collapsed. 
But  the  town  had  no  concern  about  that.  Lady  Luck  still  walked 
with  it — this  time  to  point  out  the  lucrative  cattle  business  over  east 
a  bit. 

So  Rapid  City  became  a  cow  town  complete  with  saloons,  harness 
shops,  gambling  joints,  and  hitching  racks.  That  was  the  town  that 
the  passengers  from  Pierre  discovered  on  August  7,  1907.  But  it 
was  already  getting  ready  to  dress  for  a  new  part.  The  land  agents, 
townsite  agents,  and  barbed-wire  salesmen  were  flocking  into  town. 
Dozens  of  them  had  come  across  the  prairie  in  buggies  before  the 
first  train  whistle  was  heard  in  the  Bad  Lands. 

The  hardy-perennial  seers  of  Rapid  City  knew  what  was  going 
to  happen.  The  fences  were  coming,  and  the  little  farms  and  the  net- 
works of  roads  and  the  breaking  up  of  the  sod.  And  the  cattlemen 


240  THE      LAST      LAP 

were  going  to  have  to  go  out  of  business  or  move.  But  it  wasn't 
going  to  be  too  much  of  a  IjIow.  Presently  all  the  land  between  the 
hills  and  the  river  was  going  to  be  filled  with  homesteaders — thou- 
sands of  them — raising  wheat,  or  tr^'ing  to  raise  it,  on  the  old 
ranges. 

The  old-timers  of  Rapid  Citj'  had  seen  too  many  projects  come 
and  go  to  venture  a  guess  whether  the  agricultural  theory  of  these 
newcomers  might  be  right  or  not.  It  was  the  homesteader's  privilege 
to  find  out  for  himself.  As  Tom  Sweeny,  the  myriad-minded  merchant 
put  it : 

If  they  say  this  is  going  to  be  a  great  agricultural  community,  then 
we  shall  be  the  willing  suppliers  of  this  great  agricultural  community.  It 
is  not  for  us  to  ask  what  use  a  man  may  make  of  the  goods  he  purchases 
from  us,  nor  how  much  benefit  they're  going  to  be  to  him.  If  a  sad-eyed, 
shaky,  dcfeated-looking  man  comes  to  you  to  buy  a  cheap  revolver,  by 
all  means  sell  it  to  him  .  .  .  but  don't  be  foolish  about  extending  him 
credit. 

So  Rapid  City  became  a  distributing  center  for  the  southern  Hills 
and  a  great  part  of  the  West  River  country  and  maintained  a  com- 
fortable existence  for  just  about  twenty  years.  The  solid  populace 
that  had  succeeded  the  stage  drivers  and  miners  and  cowboys  may 
not  have  had  an  exciting  life  but  it  w  as  a  lot  less  tiring  than  the  rou- 
tine their  fathers  remembered. 

Something  of  the  same  metamorphosis  had  come  to  the  northern 
Hills,  too.  The  Homestake  had  tahcn  in  most  of  the  competing  mines 
in  the  district,  and  gold  production  had  become  about  as  romantic 
as  the  running  of  a  steam  laundry.  Wild  Bill  Hickok,  a  badman  of 
dubious  stature,  and  Calamity  Jane,  an  unprepossessing  harlot,  had 
been  dead  for  quite  a  long  time.  Deadwood  Dick — save  in  reason- 
able facsimile  provided  by  the  chamber  of  commerce — had  never  ex- 
isted. National  prohibition  had  come  along  to  close  up  the  mildewed 
honky-tonks.  And  the  normal  people  left  in  these  towns  to  carry  on 
a  normal  business  took  a  deep  breath,  kicked  off  their  shoes,  put  on 
their  slippers,  and  sat  down  to  lead  a  normal  life. 

About  this  time  (1927)  two  unforeseen  influences  came  westward 
to  affect  the  destiny  of  the  Black  Hills.  One  was  Gutzon  Borglum, 
the  sculptor,  who  had  been  invited  by  State  Historian  Doane  Robin- 


AGAIN      A      FARMER     S      RAILROAD 


241 


son.  The  other  was  Calvin  Coolidge,  President  of  the  United  States 
and  particular  concern  of  the  North  Western  Railway. 

Borglum,  who  had  been  frustrated  in  his  plan  to  carve  the  story 
of  the  Confederacy  on  the  side  of  Stone  Mountain,  Georgia,  was 
looking  for  a  new  project  of  similar  scope.  Robinson  suggested  that 
he  chisel  out  a  bust  of  Washington  four  times  larger  than  the  Egyp- 
tian Sphinx  on  one  of  the  Black  Hills  peaks.  Borglum  came,  selected 
a  granite  knob  called  Mount  Rushmore,  and  went  to  work. 

There  had  been  some  tourist  business  in  the  Hills  since  the  coming 
of  the  railroad — there  had  always  been  some  of  it  even  back  in  the 
stagecoach  days.  But  some  of  the  local  boys,  including  Paul  Bel- 
lamy who  operated  a  bus  line  out  of  Rapid  City,  didn't  think  there 
was  enough.  You  could  get  to  the  towns  on  the  railroads  all  right. 
But  not  much  farther.  The  hill  roads  were  bad  and  those  that  were 
passable  seldom  led  to  any  points  of  interest. 

So  Bellamy  and  his  committee  had  played  some  politics  and 
brought  about  the  establishment  of  Custer  Park,  a  state  game  pre- 
serve and  recreation  center.  They  got  an  appropriation  for  some 
road  improvements.  Then,  having  viewed  their  handiwork  and  found 
it  good,  they  invited  Calvin  Coolidge  to  spend  his  vacation  in  the 
enjoyment  of  it. 

While  the  world  was  still  laughing  at  the  preposterous  brashness 
of  these  naive  people  of  the  Hills,  Coolidge  accepted  the  invitation. 

The  job  of  bringing  the  President  from  Washington  to  Rapid 
City  devolved  on  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railwa}'.  It  in- 
volved logistics  generally  associated  with  the  movement  of  an  army 
corps.  Not  only  the  President  but  his  official  family  had  to  be  trans- 
ferred: Cabinet  members,  officials  outside  the  Cabinet,  corps  of  sec- 
retaries, assistant  secretaries,  stenographers,  messengers,  advisors 
— correspondents,  photographers,  secret-service  operatives,  and 
carloads  of  people  still  unidentified.  North  Western  tacticians  went 
to  work  on  this  problem  two  months  before  a  solution  was  going  to 
be  needed  and,  well  in  advance  of  the  departure  from  Washington, 
had  arranged  for  the  arrival,  spotting,  and  unloading  of  every  car 
in  the  movement ;  the  feeding,  transfer,  and  billeting  of  every  pas- 
senger ;  arrangement  for  priority  over  regular  trains — one  of  the 
most  intricate  schedules  that,  up  to  the  moment,  had  ever  been  seen 
in  railroading. 


2i2  THE      LAST      LAP 

It  hiul  just  been  complctwl,  and  tlie  arriiiigers  had  sunk  back  into 
their  ciiairs  wiicn  Senator  Pete  Norbcck  called  tiie  office  of  the  gen- 
eral passenger  agent  in  Chicago. 

"I  hate  to  mention  it,"  lie  said.  "Jkit  President  Coolidge  has 
changed  his  mind  about  going  with  you  to  the  Black  Hills.  He  wants 
to  visit  the  grave  of  a  distant  relative  who,  unfortunately,  is  buried 
somewhere  near  Mitchell." 

The  general  passenger  agent  was  too  tired  to  argue. 

"You'll  have  a  copy  of  the  schedule  in  the  mail  this  morning,"  he 
said.  "It  takes  care  of  every  minute  the  President  and  his  party  will 
be  on  our  line  and  it  provides  specific  instructions  for  every  man 
who  will  have  anything  to  do  with  the  trip.  It  represents  two  months' 
work  on  the  part  of  several  people,  and  I  should  like  to  have  3'ou 
show  the  President  a  copy  of  it.  If  he  has  the  sense  of  economy  peo- 
ple say  he  has,  he  may  not  want  to  throw  it  away." 

Senator  Norbeck  called  back  some  hours  later  to  say  that  Presi- 
dent Coolidge  was  going  to  the  Black  Hills  over  the  North  Western 
as  originally  j)lanned.  And  so,  in  due  course,  he  did.  Not  until  months 
afterward  did  Senator  Norbeck  tell  what  happened  when  he  went 
to  the  White  House  to  deliver  the  schedule. 

"I  told  him  that  the  North  Western  officials  were  anxious  to  co- 
operate with  him  if  he  wanted  to  see  the  grave  of  this  distant  cousin 
or  whatever  it  was,"  he  said.  "But  I  said  that  they  wanted  a  sort  of 
friendly  compromise  so  all  that  work  wouldn't  be  wasted.  I  told  him 
the  railroad  would  be  willing  to  move  the  relative's  body  to  Rapid 
City  or  to  Washington- — which  would  cost  less." 

Whether  this  was  actually  Senator  Norbeck's  solution  of  a  per- 
plexing problem  will  never  be  known.  But  anyway  it  is  a  matter  of 
history  that  the  President  came  to  Rapid  City  by  way  of  Rochester, 
Mankato,  Huron,  and  Pierre. 


Cl 


lapter  30 

TOURISTS,  SCULPTURE,  AND 
CATTLE 


Rapid  City  became  the  most  famous  town  of  its  size  in  the  world 
during  that  summer.  President  Coolidge  Kved  at  the  game  lodge  in 
Custer  Park  and  established  his  summer  White  House  at  the  high 
school.  The  town  was  frightfully  overcrowded  with  the  influx  of 
about  a  thousand  people  who  made  up  the  official  entourage.  In  ad- 
dition to  that  people  came  journeying  on  business  from  Europe, 
Asia,  Africa,  and  all  parts  of  the  United  States.  Thousands  of  others 
came  across  the  prairie  as  visiting  neighbors.  Tlie  passenger  traffic 
between  Chicago  and  the  Hills  approached  an  all-time  peak. 

Next  3'ear  the  hegira  continued,  for  though  Coolidge  was  gone, 
Gutzon  Borglum  was  there  and  he  was  beginning  to  make  some  prog- 
ress on  the  sculpture  of  his  great  stone  faces.  New  roads  had  to  be 
constructed  to  make  his  work  accessible  and  they,  in  turn,  opened 
up  new  vistas  of  the  Hills  to  sight-seers.  So  year  by  year  the  tide  of 
visitors  increased.  And  presently  Rapid  City,  always  adaptable,  had 
taken  on  a  new  role  as  a  tourist  center. 

It  was  probably  Marvin  Hugliitt  who  said  that  the  Black  Hills 
embraced  the  richest  hundred  square  miles  of  territory  on  earth. 
Stewart  Edward  White  declared  that  nowhere  else  on  the  globe  was 
such  a  variety  of  scenery  to  be  found  in  so  small  a  compass.  They 
were  both  very  close  to  right. 

Scenery  and  riches  are  where  you  find  them.  You  can  climb  the 
corkscrews  of  the  Iron  Mountain  road  and  emerge  among  the 
"Needles,"  a  breath-taking  concourse  of  stone  spires  on  the  roof  of 

243 


244  THE      LAST      LAP 

the  world.  Or  you  may  ride  over  the  prairie  4  miles  from  the  railroad 
station  at  Wall  to  the  Bad  Lands  and  look  down  upon  the  majestic 
beauty  of  chaotic  desolation.  And  as  for  riches — gold  may  come  in 
many  ways — out  of  a  gold  mine  or  over  a  table  at  the  old  Bodega 
in  Deadwood,  or,  if  you  are  running  a  railroad,  it  may  lie  in  the 
undisclosed  products  of  a  new  land.  It  may  also  come  from  a  cow's 
willingness  to  cat  buffalo  grass. 

As  we've  mentioned  elsewhere  cattle  came  into  the  Hills  almost  as 
soon  as  the  gold  seekers.  The  earliest  arrivals  were  brought  in  be- 
cause the  miners  had  chased  away  the  Indians  from  broad  pastures, 
new  trails  were  open  out  of  Cheyenne  and  Sidney,  and  there  had  been 
three  successive  years  of  grassless  drought  in  the  South.  So  the 
thundering  herds  came  up  from  Texas  to  the  new  open  range  from 
Buffalo  Gap  to  the  North  Dakota  Bad  Lands.  In  the  summer  of 
1882,  27,000  head  of  Texas  longhorns  came  in  a  single  drive.  And 
the  hard-bcatcn  tracks  of  their  passing  can  still  be  seen  along  the 
Belle  Fourclie  River. 

This,  the  Texas  travelers  discovered,  was  good  grazing  ground. 
Winters  at  the  north  end  of  the  Hills  were  seldom  severe.  Snows 
weren't  often  deep,  and  the  tough  prairie  grasses  that  curled  up 
close  to  the  ground  in  the  fall  provided  adequate  food  in  all  sorts  of 
weather.  The  herds  that  had  been  brought  for  an  emergency  feeding 
stayed  in  the  region  from  then  on. 

About  1890  when  there  began  to  be  signs  of  the  passing  of  the  old 
open  range,  more  or  less  modern  cattle  ranches  sprang  up  along  the 
north  fork  of  the  Cheyenne  River.  The  largest  was  the  Diamond  A, 
which  controlled  400,000  acres  and  at  one  time  had  about  50,000 
steers  under  its  brand.  Six  or  seven  other  outfits  in  the  same  region 
ran  herds  of  from  ten  to  fifteen  thousand  head  apiece.  And  this  in  a 
region  that  has  never  been  celebrated  in  the  movies,  pulp  magazines, 
or  ranch-house  laments  as  part  of  the  cow  country. 

Until  1886,  livestock  went  out  to  market  the  same  way  it  had 
come  into  the  Hills — on  the  hoof.  The  cows  were  herded  down  along 
the  old  stage-line  routes  and  put  aboard  the  trains  at  Cheyenne  or 
Chadron.  So  money  came  into  the  Belle  Fourche  River  district,  and 
a  town  grew  up  as  was  to  be  expected. 

The  town,  4  miles  southeast  of  the  present  railhead,  is  remem- 


TOURISTS,      SCULPTURE,     AND      CATTLE  245 

bered  by  a  few  old-timers  as  "Old  Minnesela."  It  didn't  last  long 
enough  to  get  a  place  on  many  of  the  maps,  but  the  smart  citizenry 
remedied  that  condition  in  1890  by  making  one  of  their  own.  The 
North  Western  (Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Missouri  Valley  Railroad) 
came  up  from  Whitewood  that  year,  skipped  Old  Minnesela,  and 
laid  out  the  town  which  is  now  Belle  Fourche.  The  Minneselans  were 
incensed  at  what  they  considered  an  unnecessary  slight  to  a  going 
community.  Belle  Fourche,  of  course,  had  nothing  but  a  temporary 
railroad  station.  Old  Minnesela  had  a  drugstore,  a  large  hotel,  a 
blacksmith  shop,  one  church,  one  school,  some  homes,  and  quite  a 
lot  of  saloons. 

So  when  the  townsite  company  held  its  sale  of  lots  in  Belle  Fourche, 
the  Minneselans,  in  every  buggy,  cart,  and  wagon  they  could  mobi- 
lize, brought  copies  of  their  map  to  the  end  of  the  rail  and  tried  to 
lure  the  customers  to  a  sale  of  their  own.  The  •i-mile  jaunt  between 
Old  Minnesela's  hotel  and  the  railroad  station  was  too  obvious,  and 
the  trick  failed.  The  citizens  accepted  defeat  and  moved  over  to 
Belle  Fourche,  saloons  and  all. 

Belle  Fourche  was  a  thriving  cow  town  and  still  is,  although  it 
has  lost  some  of  the  old  look.  As  you  stepped  off  a  train  in  the  1900's 
you  stood  at  the  head  of  a  two-block  street  in  which  virtually  all  the 
business  houses  were  saloons,  gambling  halls,  or  a  combination  of 
both.  There  were  few  women  on  the  streets  and  \Trtually  no  children. 
Nearly  all  the  men  who  wove  in  and  out  of  the  scene  were  cow- 
punchers  in  the  garb  of  their  trade.  At  the  curbs  stood  scores  of  cow 
ponies,  fetlock-deep  in  mud,  with  their  heads  drooping  between  their 
knees. 

Today  Belle  Fourche  has  paved  streets  and  brick  buildings,  a  new 
hotel,  and  a  couple  of  modern  moving  picture  theaters.  The  galaxy 
of  grogshops  burned  down  sometime  before  Prohibition  and  has 
never  been  replaced.  The  town  gets  along  quite  well  with  a  single 
municipal  saloon  and  night  club.  Cowboys  still  fill  up  the  town,  but 
most  of  them  seem  to  be  there  on  business.  The  cow  ponies  come  off 
the  ranches  only  at  rodeo  time.  Travel  between  home  and  market  is 
now  done  more  quickly  by  automobile. 

There  is  no  outward  resemblance  between  the  sprawling  town  of 
Belle  Fourche  and  the  Homestake  gold  mine,  but  picking  one  or  the 


THE      LAST      I-  A  : 


other  of  thcin  as  a  revenue  source,  a  railroad  freiglit  agent  would 
undoubtedly  choose  Belle  Fourche.  In  1893  it  established  a  record 
as  the  most  important  shipping  point  for  range  cattle  in  tlie  world. 
And  it  has  never  been  far  away  from  that  mark  since. 

In  18913,  4,700  carloads  of  stock  went  out  to  the  Chicago  and 
Omaha  markets.  Since  then  such  outfits  as  the  Diamond  A  have 
gone  out  of  business.  The  big  ranges  are  cut  up,  and  the  problems 
of  cattle  raising  have  multiiilied  a  hundred  per  cent.  But  Belle 
Fourche  unobtrusively  reaps  a  high  rating  year  by  year.  In  19-i-t 
the  town  shipj)ed  7,1.53  carloads  of  mixed  products;  in  19-15,  7,i01< 
cars;  in  19-i6,  7,495  cars;  and  in  1947,  7,848  cars. 

In  1947  the  local  livestock  exchange  sold  104,540  cattle  and  60,- 
249  sheep.  And  several  times  that  year  Belle  Fourche  rated  as  the 
number  one  primary  cattle  market  in  tlie  United  States,  if  not  in 
the  world. 

Cattle  raising  ceased  to  be  the  community's  lone  industry  in  1907 
when  the  government  completed  the  Orman  irrigation  dam  across 
the  Belle  Fourche  River.  Since  then  there  has  been  a  great  diversifi- 
cation of  farm  products. 

The  production  of  sugar  beets  became  an  important  industry  in 
1917.  Beets  were  shipped  out  by  the  trainload  to  mills  outside  the 
state  until  1927  when  the  Utah-Idaho  Sugar  Company  built  a  fac- 
tory at  Belle  Fourche.  This  plant  turned  out  250,000  bags  of  sugar 
in  1940.  One  hundred  and  eighty-eight  carloads  were  sent  to  mid- 
western  markets  in  1947. 

Other  shipments  during  1947  were:  sheep,  989  cars;  lumber,  301 
cars;  wheat,  278  cars;  brick  and  tile,  163  cars;  wool,  117  cars; 
hogs,  82  cars ;  molasses,  68  cars ;  horses,  16  cars ;  scrap  iron,  9  cars  ; 
bentonite,  4,469  cars ;  miscellaneous,  39  cars. 

Bentonite,  a  claylike  mineral  whose  absorbent  qualities  make  it 
valuable  in  well-drilling,  iron  molding,  and  cosmetic  manufacture,  is 
becoming  one  of  the  district's  principal  products.  At  this  writing 
the  North  Western  is  building  a  spur  track  from  Belle  Fourche  to 
the  district  where  the  large  deposits  have  been  located. 

The  tourist  trade,  so  highly  spoken  of  in  the  lower  Hills,  does  not 
come  to  Belle  Fourche  much  except  for  the  "Roundup,"  a  local  rodeo 
show  held  in  the  fall.  But  nobody  seems  to  care  much  about  visitmg 


TOURISTS,     SCULPTURE,     AND     CATTLE  247 

sight-seers.   There   aren't   any  dude   ranches   in   the   neighboi-hood, 
either. 

Although  you'd  have  some  trouble  buying  beaded  moccasins  and 
souvenir  paperweights  in  the  place,  the  merchants  have  little  cause 
for  worry.  Postal  receipts  last  year  (1947)  were  $32,579.03.  And 
the  banks  did  a  business  of  $58,820,000. 


Cl 


'lanter    S  / 

r  R  O  G  H  E  S  S  —  A  N  D     SETBACK 


In  1910  IMakvix  IlrcinTT  rclinquislicd  tlie  prcsidcnc^^  to  William 
A.  Gardner  and  became  chairman  of  the  Board.  Gardner's  regime 
was  brief.  He  died  in  1916  and  was  succeeded  by  Richard  H.  Aish- 
ton.  The  road  continued  to  flourish.  There  was  still  plenty  of  money 
in  the  till.  And  Gardner  was  spared  the  headaches  of  wartime  gov- 
ernment control  that  nobody  in  those  halcyon  days  could  have  fore- 
seen. 

The  Federal  director  general  of  railroads  took  over  the  North 
Western  s3\stem  on  December  28,  1917.  For  1918  the  company  got 
$23,201,01.5.60  as  rent  from  the  government,  and  paid  out  $8,816,- 
106.;39  interest  on  bonds,  .$925,000  war  tax,  $149,577.01<  corporate 
operating  expenses,  and  $1,201,762  for  all  other  expenses.  After 
payment  of  dividends  there  remained  $2,418,956. 

The  government's  report  for  1918  showed  $127,295,678.35  oper- 
ating revenues  as  against  $108,264,983.32  received  by  the  Chicago 
and  North  Western  in  1917— a  gain  of  $19,030,695.03.  On  the  other 
hand  1917  operating  expenses  had  been  .$78,758,988.73  against 
$109,498,572.24  in  1918.  All  other  expenses  (net)  were,  1917— 
$5,108,138.58;  1918— .$5,355,668.98.  So  the  net  revenue,  which  had 
been  .$24,397,856.01  in  1917,  dropped  under  government  operation 
to  .$12,441,437.13,  or  very  nearly  twelve  million  dollars. 

On  March  4,  1920,  the  railroads  were  given  back  to  their  owners. 
Under  the  Transportation  Act  of  1920,  the  railroads  were  guaran- 
teed six  months'  compensation  equal  to  half  of  what  they  had  re- 
ceived from  the  government.  And  there  were  some  new  woes.  The 
Chicago  and  North  Western  Company  in  November,  1920,  filed 
claims  against  the  United  States  Railroad  Administration  "for  un- 
dermaintenance;  deficiencies  in  materials  and  supplies  turned  back 

248 


PROGRESS AND     SETBACK 


249 


at  the  end  of  Federal  control,  as  compared  with  the  amount  taken 
over ;  unpaid  compensation ;  balances  on  open  accounts ;  and  for 
the  value  of  property  retired  during  the  Federal  control  period  and 
not  replaced — less  all  credits  due  the  Railroad  Administration." 

The  government  allowed  the  claim  and  paid  a  total  of  $15,500,000 
cash  to  the  company  in  1921.  This  was  one  of  the  few  bright  spots 
in  the  annual  report.  Nineteen  twenty-one  was  a  year  of  wide- 
spread depression.  Railway  wages  were  up  until  July  1,  when  the 
United  States  Railroad  Labor  Board  established  a  new  scale  aver- 
aging about  11  per  cent  lower  than  the  year  before.  Operating  ex- 
penses continued  to  be  abnormally  high. 

Business  picked  up  a  bit  in  1922,  and  revenues  climbed  during  the 
next  three  years.  But  the  difference  between  gross  income  and  oper- 
ating expenses  somehow  never  seemed  to  approach  a  prewar  adjust- 
ment. 

]\Iarvin  Hughitt,  who  had  been  president  of  the  company  from 
1887  until  1910  wiien  he  was  elected  chairman  of  the  Board  of  Di- 
rectors, resigned  that  post  in  1925  to  become  chairman  of  the 
finance  committee.  On  January  6,  1928,  he  died.  He  was  nearly 
ninety-one  years  old  and  for  fifty-six  years  had  been  continuously 
associated  with  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway  Company, 
the  directing  genius  of  its  spectacular  journeyings  into  new  coun- 
tries. The  resolution  adopted  by  the  Board  of  Directors  observed : 

His  courage  and  foresight  overcame  the  obstacles  of  the  pioneer  days, 
while  his  optimism  and  faith  in  the  destinies  of  the  nation  led  him  far 
in  advancing  steam  transportation  beyond  the  rugged  frontiers. 

His  guiding  influence  and  sound  judgment  were  keenly  felt  in  the 
trying  days  of  the  railroad's  expansion.  With  the  coming  of  the  ever  ex- 
panding scope  of  Governmental  regulation  of  railroads,  Mr.  Hughitt 
readily  adapted  himself  to  the  altered  environment  and  never  lost  con- 
fidence in  the  ultimate  fairness  of  the  American  people. 

Marvin  Hughitt's  successors  were  concerned  as  he  had  been — and 
with  greater  reason — at  what  seemed  to  be  the  increasing  illogic 
in  Federal  control. 

The  fiscal  year  1926-1927  had  been  fairly  profitable,  but  there 
were  signs  that  gave  the  auditors  concern.  During  1927  wage  in- 


250  THE      LAST      LAP 

cruascs  liiul  btin  f^riuitcd  tlmt  added  about  $1,300,000  to  the  pay- 
roll. 

A  coal  strike  had  been  in  prospect  at  the  beginning  of  the  _ycar 
so  the  farsighted  purcliasing  department  had  laid  in  1,000,000  tons 
of  coal  as  a  reserve.  The  strike,  however,  went  on  so  long  that  the 
company  had  to  go  into  the  open  market  and  buy  coal  from  eastern 
fields.  Tliis  increased  operating  expenses  approximately  $685,000, 
and  a  further  increase  was  caused  by  the  replacement  of  worn-out 
and  obsolete  equipment,  $841,057  worth  more  than  required  the 
year  before.  The  surplus,  after  interest  and  dividends,  decreased 
$2,583,757.  The  gross  revenue  was  $4,202,764  below  that  of  the 
preceding  year. 

Meanwhile,  improvements  were  going  ahead  as  if  no  dire  omens 
could  be  noted  in  the  annual  report.  The  company  had  put  5,122 
new  and  rebuilt  freight  cars  into  service  that  year.  It  is  interesting 
to  note  that  a  thousand  of  these  were  automobile  cars — motor-car 
competition  was  still  being  compensated  for  by  tlie  revenue  that 
came  from  transporting  motor  cars. 

New  grain  elevators,  engine  houses,  coal-handling  plants,  gas 
plants,  and  water-treating  plants,  shops,  docks,  and  tracks  had 
been  built.  At  Proviso,  Illinois,  32  new  tracks  had  been  added  to 
the  classification  yard,  each  with  a  capacity  of  100  cars.  Subways 
were  constructed  under  the  south  end  of  the  yards  to  carry  Lake 
Street  and  North  Avenue  under  the  tracks.  Work  was  started  on 
a  merchandise  freight  house,  and  the  program  that  was  to  make 
this  one  of  the  world's  greatest  marshaling  yards  was  well  under 
way. 

In  1929  it  was  completed,  with  features  that  made  it  probably 
the  most  remarkable  freight  terminal  in  the  country.  Certainly  it 
was,  and  is,  one  of  the  largest.  As  it  went  into  service  its  electric 
retarder  yard  alone  contained  59  tracks  with  individual  capacities 
of  from  38  to  76  cars  each,  a  total  capacity  of  3,220  cars  on  an 
aggregate  track  length  of  33  miles. 

Its  function,  of  course,  is  to  take  individual  cars  out  of  one  train 
and  put  them  into  other  trains  where  they  belong.  And  this,  as  in 
other  great  switchyards,  since  the  London  and  Northwestern  Rail- 
way invented  the  idea  in  1873,  is  done  by  gravity: 

A  group  of  cars  are  shoved  to  the  summit  of  an  elevation.  One 


PROGRESS AND     SETBACK  201 

by  one  or  in  small  groups,  according  to  the  classification  required, 
they  are  allowed  to  coast  down  an  incline  into  a  maze  of  branching 
trackage.  Originally  the  progress  of  each  car  was  directed  by  a 
tender  at  every  switch  and  a  brakeman  "riding  the  top." 

In  the  Proviso  3'ards,  however,  the  movement  of  cars  into  the 
classification  yards  from  the  hump  is  controlled  by  30  mechanically 
operated  retarders.  The  retarders,  located  on  leads  to  the  various 
tracks,  together  with  the  58  switches  connecting  the  yard  tracks 
with  the  leads,  are  operated  from  three  elevated  towers. 

A  teletype  communicating  system  transmits  switching  lists  from 
the  agent's  office  simultaneously  to  the  hump,  the  yardmaster's  office, 
and  each  of  the  three  towers.  The  movements  of  trains  approaching 
the  hump  are  controlled  by  a  series  of  signals  operated  by  the  yard- 
master. 

The  yard  is  electrically  lighted  by  floodlights  of  1,000-watt  ca- 
pacity on  four  towers  whose  height  varies  from  100  to  120  feet. 

A  departure  yard,  operating  in  connection  with  the  classification 
yard,  contains  21  tracks  (combined  length  17  miles)  with  capaci- 
ties of  60  to  100  cars  each — a  total  capacity  of  1,760  cars.  A  pneu- 
matic tube,  a  mile  and  a  quarter  long,  connects  the  agent's  office 
with  the  departure  yard  for  quick  transmission  of  outgoing  way- 
bills. 

Engine  houses  at  Proviso  were  rebuilt  to  make  room  for  larger 
locomotives.  Two  electrically  operated  cinder-handling  plants  were 
installed,  and  among  other  improvements  was  a  water-softening 
plant  in  conjunction  with  a  reservoir  of  500,000  gallons  capacity. 
These  are  only  parts  of  Proviso.  So  huge  is  the  freight  yai'd  that 
for  operating  efficiency  it  is  divided  into  nine  smaller  yards,  each 
with  its  individual  yardmaster  supervised  by  the  general  yardmaster. 
Approximately  230  miles  of  track  were  laid  down  in  the  yard  area 
5  miles  long  and  half  a  mile  wide — enough  trackage  to  hold  26,000 
cars.  The  location  of  this  sixteen-million-dollar  freight  yard,  only 
13  miles  west  of  Chicago,  was  also  strategic  since  it  kept  freight 
operations  close  to  the  city,  yet  just  far  enough  away  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  congestion  of  various  forms  of  traffic.  Undoubtedly, 
this  was  one  of  the  biggest  construction  jobs,  within  a  comparatively 
small  area,  ever  undertaken  by  the  \orth  Western. 

All  that  happened  in  1929,  in  October  of  which  year  had  come 


THE      LAST      LAP 


the  big  market  collapse  and  the  hoginiiiiig  of  a  depression  that 
seemed  likely  never  to  end.  The  railroads  didn't  feel  the  shock  im- 
mediately— at  least  not  enough  of  it  to  hurt.  The  officials  knew  as 
everybody  did  that  the  country  was  in  for  plenty  of  trouble,  but 
at  first  there  was  some  hope  that  it  might  not  be  permanent.  A  group 
of  railroad  presidents  conferred  with  President  Hoover  and  prom- 
ised to  spend  millions  in  a  recovery  program.  Some  of  them  may 
have  thought  they  could  find  the  money  and  that  the  scheme  would 
work. 


Cl 


lapter  32 

TRUSTEESHIP  AND 
REORGANIZATION 


In  the  year  1930  the  North  Western  built  the  Wood  Street  j'ard  in 
Chicago,  a  series  of  tracks  alongside  paved  driveways  to  facilitate 
handling  of  potatoes  and  vegetables.  Its  constructors  still  point  to 
it  with  considerable  pride  after  nearly  eighteen  years.  Unemploy- 
ment was  increasing,  and  the  stock  market  was  virtually  out  of  busi- 
ness. But  there  were  still  indications  that  some  people  still  had  hope 
in  the  country.  During  the  year,  528  new  industries  were  established 
along  the  company's  lines.  Most  of  them  had  to  do  with  petroleum 
products,  but  machinery  manufacturers,  miscellaneous  manufac- 
turers, building-material  distributors,  and  automobile  companies 
were  included  in  the  list.  Whatever  hope  had  buoyed  them  when  they 
came  looking  for  switch-track  facilities  had  faded  before  the  end  of 
1931. 

It  was  fairly  obvious  by  that  time,  even  to  the  most  hearty  opti- 
mists, that  the  railroads  were  going  to  bear  their  share  of  the 
disaster — and  more.  Railroad  managers  became  aware  of  an  in- 
creasing and  malignant  menace  in  unregulated  truck  traffic.  At  the 
moment  there  seemed  to  be  no  satisfactory  answer  to  it.  Class  rate 
increases  requested  by  the  western  lines  were  not  allowed  by  the 
Interstate  Commerce  Commission  until  December  3,  1931,  when  the 
truck  competition  had  increased  to  such  an  extent  that  the  effect 
of  the  decision  was  virtually  nullified.  A  reduction  in  grain  rates 
that  would  have  cost  the  western  carriers  an  annual  loss  of  twenty 
million  dollars  was  voided  by  the  United  States  Supreme  Court.  But 
livestock  rates  were  reduced. 

253 


THE      LAST      I,  AP 


Kconomy  measures  were  discussed  without  encouraging  results. 
The  North  Western  had  nhvays  done  a  large  passenger-carrying 
business.  Now  it  was  unable  to  reduce  passenger-train  mileage  as 
rapidly  as  the  passenger  business  declined.  Authority  had  to  be  ob- 
tained from  regulatory  bodies  which  would  not  act  without  tests 
to  demonstrate  that  a  particular  train  was  not  needed.  Dcsjiite  this 
difficulty,  some  three  million  passenger  miles  were  eliminated — not 
nearly  enough  to  make  any  great  difference  in  the  widening  spread 
between  revenue  and  operating  cost. 

Nine  hundred  and  sixty  banks  failed  in  North  Western  territory 
tliiit  year.  The  company  was  doing  business  with  sixty-five  of  them 
but  with  what  tlie  directors  sourly  considered  unusual  luck  lost  only 
tliree  thousand  dollars.  An  additional  117  banks  closed  their  doors 
in  the  same  nine  states  served  by  the  North  Western  in  January, 
1932,  and  35  in  February. 

With  undecorated  realism  the  directors'  annual  report  for  1932 
observes:  "The  result  of  the  operation  of  the  company  for  the  year 
reflects  general  business  conditions."  And  so  it  diti,  for  that  year, 
and  the  next  year,  and  long  years  afterward. 

There  were  better  than  average  crops  in  1932 — but  that  was  of 
small  benefit  to  anybody,  including  the  producers.  Prices  were  low, 
and  there  wasn't  any  market  anyway.  As  compared  with  1931,  the 
railroad's  revenue  from  agricultural  products  had  dropped  26  per 
cent. 

At  the  same  time  the  movement  of  manufactured  products  had 
decreased  64  per  cent,  and  the  traffic  in  iron  ore  was  only  about  5 
per  cent  of  normal.  Business  in  building  materials  was  little  better. 

In  previous  years,  as  has  been  mentioned,  the  loss  of  traffic  di- 
verted to  motor  vehicles  was  offset  somewhat  by  the  revenue  that 
came  from  hauling  automobiles  and  parts.  But  at  this  stage  of  the 
depression  the  automobile  industry  had  just  about  hit  bottom. 

There  was  only  one  bit  of  cheer  in  the  record  of  this  unfortunate 
year:  "All  of  tlie  coinj)any's  high-grade,  overnight  trains  are  pay- 
ing." 

Passenger  travel  in  general  had  declined  73  per  cent.  The  Chicago, 
Saint  Paul,  Miimeapolis  and  Omaha  Railway  Company  (the  Omaha 
line)  was  unable  to  jjay  $2,485,230  interest  on  its  bonds.  The  North 
Western  Comj)any  was  forced  to  borrow  funds  to  pay  interest  on 


256  THE     LAST     LAP 

its  own  debentures  sold  to  refinance  the  Omaha  bonds  in  19;J0.  The 
conij)any  up  to  December  31,  1932,  liad  borrowed  $17,039,933  from 
tlic  lleconstriiction  Finance  Corporation,  used  $5,000,000  to  refund 
half  of  a  teii-million-dollar  loan  with  the  banks,  and  the  remainder 
to  retire  equipment  trust  certificates. 

The  net  increase  of  the  company's  indebtedness  for  the  year  added 
uj)  to  $13,880,333. 

There  was  almost  a  respite  in  1933.  Grain,  iron  ore,  and  forest 
products  started  to  move  again.  Thanks  to  the  Century  of  Progress 
Exposition  in  Chicago,  passenger  traffic  picked  up  a  bit.  Operating 
expenses  were  reduced  $2,889,451,  to  produce  a  net  operating  in- 
come of  $6,031,714. 

But  there  were  complications.  Two  issues  of  long-term  bonds  ma- 
tured tliat  year:  $0,355,000  of  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway 
Company  debentures,  and  .$7,725,000  of  Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri Valley  Railroad  Company  consolidated  mortgage  bonds.  It 
was  arranged  to  refinance  these  issues  by  paying  50  per  cent  cash 
borrowed  from  R.F.C.  and  50  per  cent  in  general  mortgage  bonds 
of  1987.  The  statement  at  the  end  of  the  year  showed  a  net  increase 
in  indebtedness  of  $20,527,426.48. 

There  was  no  relief  the  next  year.  Operating  expense  increased  7 
per  cent,  and  net  operating  income  was  down  14  per  cent.  There  was 
a  drought  in  parts  of  Iowa,  Minnesota,  South  Dakota,  and  Ne- 
braska. Suburban  passenger  revenue  dropped  14  per  cent.  Additional 
borrowings  less  some  repayments  brought  the  total  loans  to  the  com- 
pany from  governmental  agencies  on  December  31,  1934,  to  .$44,- 
410,133.  The  net  increase  in  the  system's  indebtedness  was  $22,087,- 
874. 

Then,  on  June  28,  1935,  President  Fred  W.  Sargent,  by  direction 
of  the  Board  of  Directors,  filed  a  petition  in  bankruptcy  with  the 
United  States  District  Court  of  the  Northern  District  of  Illinois. 
The  petition  set  forth  "that  on  May  1,  1935,  the  interest  of  the  com- 
pany's 4%  per  cent  Convertible  Bonds  of  1949,  Scries  A,  in  the  sum 
of  $1,717,956.50  became  due  and  jDayable  subject  to  a  sixty-day 
grace  period ;  and  that  since  funds  w-ere  not  available  on  June  27, 
1935,  the  Board  of  Directors  voted  to  default  on  the  payment.  It 
was  set  forth  that  on  December  31,  1935,  obligations  totaling  $29,- 
464,891.50  would  mature.  Of  this,  $11,185,308.50  was  for  interest. 


TRUSTEESHIP      AND     REORGANIZATION  257 

including  tliat  already  due  on  the  previously  mentioned  bonds,  and 
$18,279,583  for  principal  maturities." 

United  States  District  Judge  John  P.  Barnes  approved  the  peti- 
tion as  properly  filed  and  authorized  the  company  to  continue  opera- 
tion under  the  supervision  of  the  court,  until  further  order.  Effec- 
tive October  21,  1935,  the  court  appointed  Charles  P.  Megan  trustee 
of  the  property  of  the  company. 

Reasons  for  the  petition,  as  they  appeared  in  press  interviews 
with  sundry  officials,  were  hardly  necessary.  Among  the  battered 
industries  of  the  country  the  experience  of  the  North  Western  Rail- 
way was  far  from  unique. 

There  was  something  dishearteningly  familiar  in  the  catalogue 
of  trouble:  the  long  continuation  of  the  depression;  four  years  of 
unprecedented  drought  in  the  regions  served  by  the  railroad ;  in- 
creased competition  with  unregulated  truck  traffic  and  subsidized 
air  transportation ;  inordinately  high  taxes ;  restoration  to  labor  of 
previously  authorized  10  per  cent  wage  cuts,  with  price  of  rail- 
road service  limited  by  law.  Appointment  of  a  trustee  made  little 
difference  in  the  general  state  of  the  country.  Business  for  the  rail- 
roads continued  bad. 

Nineteen  thirty-seven  saw  what  was  probably  the  worst  drought 
since  the  first  settlers  moved  westward  across  the  Mississippi  River. 
Corn  shriveled  not  only  in  the  semiarid  regions  of  the  Dakota  West 
River  country,  but  in  Iowa  bottomlands  that  yesterday  had  been 
moist  and  fertile.  Minnesota  wheat  was  parched.  And  all  across 
Nebraska  and  all  along  the  Missouri  Valley  the  plains  were  dusty 
gray  under  a  shriveling  sun  in  a  brassy  sky. 

Passenger  traffic,  however,  began  to  show  some  recognizable  signs 
of  improvement.  The  400,  the  one  feature  of  depression  railroad 
operation  that  its  founders  could  look  at  with  any  degree  of  pleasure, 
was  still  flashing  back  and  forth  between  Chicago  and  the  Twin 
Cities  with  a  customer  in  every  seat.  The  diesel-powered  streamliners 
operated  jointly  with  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad  Company  between 
Chicago  and  Denver,  Los  Angeles  and  Portland  and,  with  the  Union 
Pacific  and  Southern  Pacific  to  San  Francisco,  were  booked  up  weeks 
in  advance.  These  trains,  together  with  low-fare  limiteds  of  the 
Challenger  type,  produced  an  increase  of  22  per  cent  in  passenger 
revenue. 


THE      LAST      I-  A  P 


This  and  otliir  factors  made  it  possible  to  show  a  little  gain  over 
19.'35.  The  deficit  in  net  income  was  $9,674,005  as  against  last  year's 
deficit  of  $11,070,;548. 

Hearings  before  the  Interstate  Commerce  Commission  on  a  plan 
of  financial  reorganization  under  Section  77  of  the  Bankruptcy  Act 
began  in  Sej)teniber,  193G,  and  continued  from  time  to  time.  At  the 
December,  1937,  hearing,  the  company  filed  an  amended  plan  which 
had  been  approved  by  the  Board  of  Directors  in  October.  The  I^ife 
Insurance  Group  Committee  and  the  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Group 
Committee  opposed  this  plan  vigorously  and  filed  their  own  pro- 
posed plan  of  reorganization  for  the  company. 

The  two  hearing  examiners  of  the  Interstate  Commerce  Commis- 
sion's Bureau  of  Finance,  at  their  own  suggestion  and  in  order  to 
aid  in  expediting  the  proceeding,  prepared  and  filed  a  memorandum 
concerning  certain  features  of  the  proposed  plan  of  reorganization. 
The  memorandum  suggested  a  total  capitalization  of  $468,000,000 
and  concluded  as  follows : 

It  is  suggested  that  not  less  than  one  share  of  new  common  stock  be 
issued  for  each  5  shares  of  existing  preferred  stock  and  that  not  less 
than  one  share  of  new  common  stock  be  issued  for  each  10  shares  of  ex- 
isting common  stock,  in  recognition  of  the  existing  equity  of  the  holders 
of  those  classes  of  stock  in  the  property. 

Considerable  time  was  consumed  in  the  preparation  of  briefs  and 
oral  arguments  and  in  the  presentations  of  the  views  and  pleas  of 
the  various  interested  groups  and  parties.  It  was  not  until  April  18, 
19,39,  that  the  report  of  the  Interstate  Commerce  Commission's  ex- 
aminers in  the  North  Western  case  was  released.  This  report  found 
the  equity  of  the  preferred  and  common  stockholders  to  be  without 
value.  On  December  12,  1939,  the  Commission  approved  a  reorgani- 
zation plan  under  which  debt  was  chopped  from  $366,210,000  to 
$210,161,000,  and  fixed  charges  were  slashed  75  per  cent — to  $3,- 
934,000.  There  was  also  contingent  interest  of  $4,728,000  and  divi- 
dend requirements  on  tlie  new  preferred  of  $5,349,000  a  year.  The 
Commission  approved  the  finding  of  the  examiners  to  the  effect  that 
the  holders  of  the  "investment  type"  preferred  and  common  stock 
(in  the  lush  twenties  these  shares  sold  at  $150  for  preferred  and  at 
$108  for  common)  were  to  be  wi})ed  out. 


TRUSTEESHIP     AND     REORGANIZATION  259 

Of  course  there  ensued  a  new  flood  of  petitions.  District  Judge 
Barnes  and  learned  counsel  for  all  sides  spent  a  weary  and  perspir- 
ing summer  (1940)  in  court.  There  is  nothing  duller  or  drier  than 
presentation,  testimony,  and  argument  in  such  cases.  On  September 
11,  the  court  filed  an  opinion  finding  that  the  plan  met  the  require- 
ments of  the  statute.  The  road  and  eight  other  parties  appealed.  In 
January,  1941,  the  Interstate  Commerce  Commission  asked  accep- 
tance or  rejection  by  the  creditors  on  vote.  The  plan  won,  and  in 
May  the  Conmiission  certified  the  result  of  the  vote  to  the  District 
Court.  The  road,  fighting  for  its  preferred  and  common  stockholders, 
sought  a  stay  from  the  Circuit  Court  of  Appeals.  This  was  denied. 
On  June  27,  a  decree  confirming  the  plan  was  entered  by  Judge 
Barnes.  The  case  was  carried  to  the  Circuit  Court  of  Appeals  which, 
in  an  opinion  handed  down  in  February  of  1942,  approved  Judge 
Barnes's  findings  and  confirmed  the  plan. 

The  North  Western  and  the  other  interested  parties  petitioned 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  for  writs  of  certiorari  to 
the  Circuit  Court.  That  took  time,  as  do  all  cases  so  headed.  On 
April  19,  1943,  the  Supreme  Court  denied  the  petition  but  granted 
motions  for  leave  to  supplement  the  record.  The  road  then  went 
back  into  the  District  Court  seeking  leave  to  file  a  petition  to  remand 
the  proceedings  to  the  Interstate  Commerce  Connnission  for  a  modi- 
fication of  the  plan.  In  denying  the  motion.  Judge  Barnes  (April  27, 
1943)  said: 

I  tliought  the  plan  was  good.  I  still  think  it  is  good.  It  is  very  fortu- 
nate that  the  road  is  accumulating  some  cash  wherewith  to  meet  the  ob- 
ligations of  the  plan,  give  it  a  good  start  upon  what  we  hope  will  be  a 
long  course  of  prosperity  and  long  life.   ...  * 

There  is  no  reason  that  I  can  see,  why  I  should  change  the  plan,  and 
certainly  no  overpowering  reason  to  cause  me  to  appear  to  overrule  the 
Circuit  Court  of  Appeals  of  this  Circuit,  and  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States. 

The  road,  still  fighting,  sought  a  rehearing  of  the  petitions  for 
writs  of  certiorari  and  for  a  rehearing  before  the  District  Court. 
The  Supreme  Court  denied  both  sets  of  petitions.  The  road  then  be- 
sought a  reopening  of  the  case  by  the  Interstate  Commerce  Com- 

*  The  war  was  on,  and  all  railroads  were  busv  as  beavers. 


260  THE      LAST      LAP 

mission,  which  was  also  denied.  On  July  1,  1943,  under  the  Urgent 
Deficiencies  Act,  the  road  sought  to  set  aside  approval  of  the  Com- 
mission's plan.  The  three-judge  court,  convened  in  accordance  with 
that  act,  held  tliat  the  Circuit  Court  of  Appeals  had  exclusive  juris- 
diction to  review  decisions  in  bankruptcy  matters  and  pointed  out 
the  fact  that  the  earnings  and  cash  position  of  the  road  had  im- 
proved and  that  this  condition  had  been  forcefully  called  to  the 
attention  of  the  appellate  tribunals.  The  court  entered  a  decree  dis- 
missing the  bill  of  complaint,  and  on  December  20  the  Supreme  Court 
affirmed  the  decision.  The  fight  was  over  and  done  with. 

During  the  nine  years  that  it  took  to  complete  the  North  West- 
ern's reorganization,  three  sole  trustees  of  the  property  of  the 
debtor  (the  term  used  for  a  financially  embarrassed  corporation  in 
Section  77)  served  under  court  appointment.  These  were  Charles  P. 
Megan,  appointed  October  3,  1935,  who  took  office  on  October  21. 
Megan  served  until  May  of  1939,  when  he  resigned  to  devote  his  en- 
tire attention  to  his  law  practice.  He  was  succeeded  by  Charles  ]M. 
Thomson,  former  judge  of  the  Appellate  Court  of  Illinois  and  trus- 
tee of  the  Chicago  and  Eastern  Illinois  Railroad  when  that  organi- 
zation had  its  own  spell  of  difficulties.  Judge  Thomson  remained  as 
trustee  of  the  North  Western  until  his  death  December  30,  19-13 — 
just  ten  days  after  the  United  States  Supreme  Court  put  an  end 
to  the  fight  against  the  reorganization  plan.  Claude  A.  Roth  fol- 
lowed Judge  Thomson  and  was  serving  as  trustee  on  June  1,  lO-i-i, 
wjicn  the  consummation  order  went  into  effect,  and  title  to  the  North 
Western  was  vested  in  the  reorganized  company — whereupon  Row- 
land "Bud"  Williams,  chief  executive  officer  of  the  road  since  1939, 
was  elected  president. 


C/u 


lapter^   33 

"BUD"     WILLIAMS     TAKES     OVER 


There  was  nothing  accidental  about  the  appearance  of  Rowland  L. 
Williams  ("Bud"  to  his  friends)  as  chief  executive  officer  of  the 
North  Western  in  1939  at  a  time  when  the  company  was  in  the  mid- 
dle of  its  reorganization  procedure.  Williams  came  to  the  North 
Western  with  thirty-six  years  of  railroad  experience  behind  him. 
He  had  been  known  for  many  years  in  the  Middle  West  as  a  practical 
railroad  man.  But  he  was  more  than  that.  He  was  generally  reputed 
to  be  one  of  the  top-ranking  railroad  analysts  in  the  United  States. 

Like  many  of  his  contemporaries  and  predecessors,  Williams  came 
up  the  hard  way ;  the  knowledge  and  experience  gained  in  each  rail- 
road job  held,  plus  some  extra  qualities  of  initiative  and  drive,  hold- 
ing him  in  good  stead  for  one  promotion  after  another. 

He  was  born  in  1888  in  the  small  town  of  Salem,  Illinois,  where 
farming  and  railroading  were  the  principal  occupations.  The  son 
of  an  insurance  salesman  of  moderate  means,  Williams  got  his  edu- 
cation in  the  local  schools  and  at  the  age  of  fifteen  decided  to  go  to 
work.  He  selected  railroading  not  because  of  any  outside  influences 
but  because  he  thought  his  chances  were  best  in  that  direction. 

Williams  took  a  summer  job  as  messenger  boy  for  the  Baltimore 
and  Ohio  Southwestern  (now  B  &  O)  in  1903  with  no  remuneration 
except  the  privilege  of  learning  telegraphy.  He  went  back  to  school 
that  winter  but  the  following  summer  returned  to  his  job  for  a 
salary  of  five  dollars  a  month.  Within  the  next  three  years  he  did 
a  stint  as  freight  and  yard  clerk,  then  as  telegrapher,  and  in  1907 
switched  allegiance,  for  a  raise  in  salary,  to  the  Chicago  and  Eastern 
Illinois  Railroad.  Williams  was  destined  to  stay  with  the  C  &  E  I 
for  the  next  thirty-two  years. 

Those  years,  however,  were  the  ones  in  which  he  absorbed  a  great 
261 


THE      LAST      LAP 


deal  of  iiiforinntion  on  tlic  ramifications  of  rail  transportation.  He 
held  a  variety  of  positions,  each  one  better  than  the  lust.  He  was 
first  an  operator,  then  trans])ortation  timekeeper,  division  chief 
accountant,  assistant  chief  clerk,  and  then  chief  clerk  to  the  division 
superintendent,  chief  clerk  to  the  division  engineer,  chief  statistician, 
and  special  representative  of  the  president.  In  19.'}2  he  was  promoted 
to  assistant  to  president  only  to  move  up  afraiii,  four  years  latir,  to 
executive  %'ice-president. 

The  variety  of  positions  he  held  hi-oui^lit  him  in  contact  with  all 
phases  of  operations  on  the  C  &  E  I,  including  its  financial  structure. 
When  the  C  &  E  I  landed  in  the  Federal  courts  after  failing  to 
weather  the  great  depression  of  the  1930's,  Williams  obtained  still 
more  experience  on  the  problems  of  railroad  reorganization. 

He  was  executive  vice-president  of  the  C  &  E  I  when  the  North 
Western  called  to  him  in  1939  to  take  over  as  chief  executive  officer. 
Fred  W.  Sargent  had  resigned  in  June  of  that  year  with  the  illness 
that  was  to  cause  his  death  a  few  months  later.  Taking  over  the  helm 
of  the  North  Western  was  undoubtedly  a  unique  experience  for  Wil- 
liams, who  admits  that  up  to  that  time  he  had  never  set  foot  on  the 
property.  But  it  was  also  a  challenge  that  was  to  require  him  to 
draw  deep  on  his  knowledge  of  railroad  matters.  With  the  return  of 
the  railroad  to  private  management,  Williams  on  June  1,  1944,  was 
elected  president  of  the  North  Western. 

When  Williams  came  to  the  North  Western  he  knew  he  had  a  job 
on  his  hands.  On  the  one  hand  operating  costs  had  to  be  kept  down 
and  reduced  wherever  possible;  at  the  same  time  every  effort  was 
to  be  made  to  get  new  business.  The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  review 
the  property,  personally  as  well  as  through  detailed  reports  sub- 
mitted to  him. 

Out  of  this  survey  came  what  he  calls  his  "house  cleaning"  pro- 
gram. He  ordered  the  tearing  up  of  a  lot  of  unprofitable  and  un- 
necessary trackage.  Some  of  the  company's  branch  lines  had  served 
their  purpose  in  the  horse-and-buggy  days  of  the  Middle  West.  They 
had  done  their  job  well,  but  had  been  staggering  on  more  or  less  use- 
lessly since  the  advent  of  the  Model-T  Ford.  There  was  no  longer 
any  purpose  or  profit  in  maintaining  a  one-train-daily  passenger 
service  on  short  branch  lines  whose  potential  customers  were  all 
automobile  owners.  There  were  longer  stretches  so  expensive  to  main- 


"bud"      WILLIAMS      TAKES      OVER  263 

tain  and  operate  that  freight  competition  against  the  new  truck 
lines  would  have  cost  more  than  the  rewards  gained  thereby. 

One  branch  line  after  another,  and  hundreds  of  side  tracks  and 
spurs  all  over  the  map  were  pulled  up  after  careful  study  showed 
Williams  this  was  the  action  to  take.  Thirty-five  miles  of  track  was 
pulled  up  by  the  end  of  1939;  50  by  1940;  101.  by  1941;  162  by 
1942;  and  266  by  1943.  These  figures  do  not  include  a  total  of  557 
miles  of  unnecessary  side  tracks.  But  the  "house  cleaning"  went  even 
further.  Since  1939,  195  freight  and  passenger  depots  have  been 
removed  along  with  634  other  station  buildings,  577  shop  buildings, 
1,118  minor  structures,  and  1,226  miles  of  right-of-way  fence.  Wil- 
liams was  determined  to  streamline  the  railroad  as  well  as  its  trains. 

Williams  had  watched  with  approval  the  performance  of  the 
streamliners  City  of  Portland,  City  of  San  Francisco,  City  of  Los 
Angeles,  and  City  of  Denver,  which  were  operated  in  cooperation 
with  connecting  lines  to  the  West.  He  also  saw,  in  1939,  the  great 
enthusiasm  with  which  the  streamliner  Twin  Cities  Ji.00  was  received. 
Orders  were  placed  for  more  equipment  of  the  JfOO  type,  which  was 
delivered  and  placed  into  service  only  a  few  weeks  after  the  attack 
on  Pearl  Harbor. 

Williams  was  convinced  that  the  customers  would  pay  for  the 
comfort,  safety,  and  dependability  of  his  sleek  diesel-powered  green 
and  yellow  streamliners.  In  1941  the  Twin  Cities  400  brought  in 
$1,263,905,  an  increase  of  $162,689  over  1940.  The  new  400  fleet 
placed  in  service  in  January  of  1942  to  serve  southern  Minnesota, 
Wisconsin,  and  upper  Michigan  brought  an  additional  rush  of 
patrons.  "All  these  trains,"  says  the  report  for  that  year,  "have 
been  most  favorably  accepted  by  the  public  and  carried  a  very  heavy 
traffic  and  contributed  greatly  to  increased  revenues." 

Of  course  the  war  with  its  heavy  movement  of  troops,  families  vis- 
iting loved  ones  in  widely  scattered  military  and  naval  bases,  gas 
rationing,  and  the  tight  tire  situation  were  principal  contributors  to 
the  crowding  of  railroad  stations.  But  even  so,  the  popularity'  of 
the  streamliners  was  easy  to  see,  for  these  were  the  trains  on  which 
reservations  and  accommodations  were  in  greatest  demand. 

The  heavy  war  traffic  helped  the  North  Western  considerably, 
just  as  it  helped  all  railroads,  bus  lines,  and  air  lines.  But  this  im- 
petus of  new  business,  coming  unexpectedly'  on  the  heels  of  the  North 


264  THE      LAST      LAP 

Western's  reorganization,  gave  it  extra  hope  in  facing  tlie  future. 
After  tlic  war  the  "recession"  forecast  by  some  people  failed  to  ar- 
rive. North  Western's  operating  revenues  for  1947  were  the  largest 
in  the  history  of  the  company. 

Operating  revenues  are  not  profits,  liowever.  The  war  period  as 
well  as  the  years  following  can  be  characterized  as  an  era  of  spiral- 
ing  costs  in  materials,  supplies,  and  labor.  Taxes,  too,  took  a  tre- 
mendous portion  of  North  Western's  earnings  into  state  and  Fed- 
eral coffers. 

What  is  the  answer.''  Williams  is  an  active  proponent  of  the  theory 
tiiat  the  railroads  can  save  themselves  if  they  are  allowed  to.  He  is 
also  convinced  that  overcomplicated  Federal  regulation  of  the  rail- 
roads isn't  doing  them  and — therefore — the  nation  any  good.  In  a 
top  national  magazine  he  pointed  out  the  essential  trouble  with  the 
railroads — he  makes  no  distinction  because  they  are  all  in  the  same 
galley.  They  are  allowed  to  make  3  per  cent  or  less  on  a  capital  in- 
vestment of  twent^'-seven  billion  dollars.  They  are  among  the  poor- 
est earners  in  industry  and,  he  observes  bleakly,  some  of  them  are 
going  broke.  This  in  a  lush  period  of  dollar-a-pound  butter  and  cus- 
tomers' lines  in  front  of  the  automobile  agencies. 

Williams  is  surprised  that  there  are  so  many  people  who  still 
seriously  think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  nationalize  the  railroads. 
He  wonders  how  anyone  could  overlook  the  time  the  government  ran 
the  trains  during  the  first  World  W^ar.  That  experiment,  he  points 
out,  cost  the  taxpaj'ers  about  two  million  dollars  a  day  in  deficits 
and,  in  addition,  saw  one  of  the  greatest  snarls  of  freight  cars  in 
history.  In  World  War  II  the  railroads  were  left  to  run  their  own 
business.  The  result  was  that  they  handled  more  men  of  the  armed 
forces  than  most  folks  believed  possible,  hauled  their  civilian  passen- 
gers without  much  difficulty,  did  the  biggest  freight  transporting 
job  in  all  history,  and  to  top  it  aU,  paid  out  more  than  three  million 
dollars  a  day  in  taxes. 

He  is  against  government  bonuses  or  subsidies  or  other  paternal- 
istic largess.  All  the  railroads  need,  or  want,  he  says,  is  a  recognition 
of  the  right  to  earn  a  living.  He  is  not  opposed  to  high  wages  for 
employes  if  the  cmplo^'ers  are  allowed  to  get  enough  money  out  of 
their  operations  to  pay  the  wages  without  going  into  bankruptcy. 
But  when  railroads  are  getting  a  .'3  per  cent  return  wliile  otlirr  ])ul)lic 


WILLIAMS     TAKES     OVER 


utilities  are  earning  8  per  cent  and  manufacturing  generally  is 
averaging  17  per  cent,  something  is  definitely  wrong  with  the  gov- 
ernment regulations  that  permit  such  a  disparity. 

A  case  in  point  is  that  concerning  the  new  freight  car  which  costs 
in  the  neighborhood  of  $4<,500.  Williams  believes  railroads  should  be 
permitted  to  set  aside  enough  funds  to  replace  worn-out  equipment. 
Yet  the  government  permits  setting  aside  a  depreciation  fund  only 
at  the  rate  of  about  .$1,800  per  freight  car,  since  that  was  what  an 
old  freight  car  cost  some  thirty  years  ago  when  it  was  purchased 
new.  Somewhere  it  has  to  dig  up  $2,700  in  new  money  or  it  doesn't 
get  its  new  freight  car. 

That  also  holds  true  in  any  modernization  a  railroad  may  at- 
tempt. It  must  be  progressive  if  it  is  to  stay  in  the  transportation 
picture,  yet  it  costs  money  to  conduct  research,  build  new  modern 
passenger  stations,  and  make  its  plant  efficient  enough  so  that  it  can 
compete  with  other  forms  of  transportation. 

As  for  the  North  Western,  Williams  maintains  that  only  constant 
improvement  and  a  constant  increase  in  operating  efficiency  have 
kept  it  alive.  Service  is  better  and  faster,  but  most  of  the  things  that 
go  into  it  cost  the  railroad  twice  as  much  as  they  did  in  1929.  True, 
the  improved  equipment  results  in  better  performance — it  just  has 
to  be  that  way.  He  points  out  that  an  average  trainload  in  1929 
was  1,536  gross  tons  as  against  2,288  gross  tons  in  1947. 

Williams  is  a  determined  railroad  man  but  he  is  no  zealot.  He  is 
interested  in  any  and  all  improvements  in  rail  transportation,  pro- 
vided those  improvements  are  real  in  the  sense  that  they  will  pay 
their  own  way.  His  interest  in  progress,  however,  goes  beyond  the 
confines  of  railroads.  He  has  a  refreshing  curiosity  in  foreign  fields 
of  endeavor,  such  as  television  or  industries  that  are  producing  com- 
paratively new  products.  His  interest  goes  to  people,  which  is  un- 
doubtedly one  of  the  reasons  why  he  has  a  host  of  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances throughout  the  country.  And  he  has  real  faith  in  the 
youth  of  the  nation.  Recently  he  had  this  to  say  about  the  oppor- 
tunities for  }'oung  men  and  women: 

Despite  appearances  to  the  contrary,  the  road  to  success  and  happi- 
ness for  young  men  and  women  embarking  on  their  life  careers  is  still 
the  same  road  it  has  alwavs  been.  As  long  as  we  think  and  act  like  human 


2C6  THE     LAST     LAP 

beings,  the  formula  for  success,  wliidi  includes  liapj)incss,  will  never 
clmnfcc.  Its  elements  require  seleetion  of  work  the  individual  will  enjoy; 
incentive,  or  the  quality  of  wanting  something  sufficiently  to  work  hard 
to  attain  it;  initiative,  or  the  willingness  to  accept  increasing  responsibili- 
ties; and,  finally,  courage  to  "take  a  chance"  when  opportunity  knocks. 
These  are  the  elements  that  have  helped  make  America  great.  Our  young 
men  and  women  who  use  them  honestly  will  find  that  their  success  will 
be  as  enduring  as  the  American  way  of  life. 


-■  ■  ■    ■  -^^fy^^r.!!:,...  ■■^..■$',c.^'?t?jl 


tJ/art  LJuj/it 


CENTURY    OF     SERVICE 


C/u 


lapter  34 

NOTES     ON     A     SOUTHPAW     RAILROAD 


Up  and  down  through  the  hierarchy  of  the  Chicago  and  North  West- 
ern Raihvaj'  you  can  always  start  an  argument  about  why  the  trains 
run  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  road.  The  one  peculiarity  that  dis- 
tinguishes this  line  from  all  other  major  railroads  in  the  United 
States,  the  mark  of  rugged  individualism  that  has  been  noted  by 
railroad  historians  since  the  first  double  track  ran  out  of  Chicago, 
really  merits  a  simple  explanation — so  you'd  think.  Unlike  other 
folkways  of  pioneer  Chicago  that  survive  only  in  old  pictures, 
crumbling  letters  or  the  erratic  memories  of  graybeards,  this  one 
has  been — and  still  is — out  where  everybody  could  look  at  it  and 
nearly  everybody  has.  Long  before  now,  you  might  imagine,  the 
archaeologists  should  have  dug  up  some  well-authenticated  reason 
for  this  phenomenon.  But  they  haven't.  The  most  obvious  thing 
about  the  North  Western  is  still  the  most  mysterious. 

The  first  guess  of  the  casual  observer  is,  of  course,  that  old  Eng- 
land, which  still  stands  virtually  alone  in  all  the  world  on  the  left 
side  of  the  street,  had  something  to  do  with  it — along  with  English 
cash,  allegedly  invested.  Harried  researchers,  who  have  gone  through 
all  the  archives  saved  on  the  subject  before  and  since  the  Great 
Chicago  Fire  say  no. 

It  started  off  as  an  accident — is  the  burden  of  their  song— and  it 
continued  as  a  convenience.  And  one  must  admit  that  they  did  not 
arrive  at  this  conclusion  without  a  lot  of  long,  tiresome  work.  It 
may  be  correct.  Among  the  people  who  have  listened  to  it  one  finds 
no  great  unanimity. 

In  a  Directory  of  Industries  published  by  the  Chicago  and  North 
Western  line,  one  reads  this  : 

269 


270  CENTUnV     OF      SERVICE 

In  speaking  of  the  construction  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway,  tliere  is  one  fact  that  cannot  be  omitted — the  "North  Western" 
is  the  only  railroad  in  the  United  States  that  is  left-handed  in  its  opera- 
tion, trains  running  on  the  left  rather  than  on  the  right  side  wherever  the 
road  is  double  tracked. 

Wlien  the  railroads  of  the  countr\'  first  started  building  lines,  many 
of  them  were  financed  by  English  and  Dutch  capital.  The  Galena  and 
Chicago  Union,  parent  road  of  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  Railway, 
was  one  of  these.  English  and  Dutch  engineers  were  schooled  in  left- 
handed  operation  and  built  all  roads  for  that  system.  Consequently  when 
double  tracking  was  started  on  what  is  now  the  Galena  division  of  the 
North  Western  toward  Oak  Park  and  West  Chicago  in  1855,  switches  and 
equipment  were  designed  for  operation  opposite  to  the  right-hand  system 
practiced  on  all  other  railroads  in  the  United  States  today.  By  1882 
double  tracking  had  been  started  on  all  three  divisions  of  the  road  in 
what  is  known  as  the  Chicago  suburban  territory. 

Along  with  construction  and  the  laying  of  rails  goes  the  planning  of 
stations  and  by  1882  many  stations  in  the  Chicago  area  had  been  built. 
Since  commuters  frequently  arrive  at  the  station  several  minutes  before 
train  time  in  the  morning  and  have  need  for  a  waiting  room  while  they 
head  for  home  immediately  in  the  evening,  almost  all  stations  were  built 
to  serve  the  track  on  the  in-bound  movement.  Naturally  when  other  rail- 
roads were  changing  to  right-hand  operation  late  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, the  North  Western  officials  had  not  only  the  reversing  of  switches 
and  the  changing  of  their  signal  system  to  consider. 

They  had  also  the  problem  of  changing  all  suburban  stations.  Since 
the  advantages  of  right-hand  operation  were  about  equalized  by  the 
advantages  of  the  left-hand  system,  the  expense  of  changing  was  not 
thought  justified. 

That  ought  to  settle  the  matter.  But  it  doesn't. 

Some  North  Western  men  Iiave  an  entirely  different  idea.  Their 
principal  point  is  that  British  capital  had  no  part  in  the  financing 
of  the  road  in  the  beginning  or  at  any  other  time  and  that  no  im- 
ported engineers  were  required  to  help  Ogdcn  lay  out  the  right  of 
way  of  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union. 

With  no  local  precedent  to  guide  them,  the  construction  crews 
puslied  westward  from  tlic  Chicago  terminal,  hauling  up  supplies 
from  behind  as  the  rails  went  down  aliead.  They  pushed  tics,  spikes, 
and  strap  iron  for  rails  from  the  riglit  side  of  the  flatcars  as  they 


NOTES     ON      A      SOUTHPAW      RAILROAD  271 

went  ahead,  presumably  because  the  surveyors'  stakes  had  been 
planted  on  the  left.  And  thus  was  established  an  unloading  technique. 

The  tracks  went  down,  the  trains  moved,  and  presently  stations 
were  built.  But  materials  still  had  to  be  hauled  from  town  and  they 
were  still  unloaded  on  the  right-hand  side  as  one  faced  in  the  out- 
bound direction.  And  for  convenience  the  stations  were  erected  close 
to  the  stockpiles. 

When  it  came  time  to  double  track  there  was  no  place  to  lay  the 
new  line  except  on  the  side  of  the  right  of  way  opposite  the  stations, 
whose  usefulness  to  inbound  passengers  was  already  fairly  obvious. 
The  original  track,  because  it  was  nearer  the  stations,  was  given  the 
inbound  traffic,  and  the  new  rails  took  what  went  out.  That  trains 
were  thus  made  to  run  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  course  was,  of 
course,  purely  incidental. 

Well,  maj'be.  Ask  a  dozen  railroad  men  and  ^'ou'll  get  a  dozen 
theories.  But  no  matter  how  much  or  how  little  they  were  mixed  up 
with  the  destinies  of  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union,  it  isn't  possible 
to  rule  them  out  altogether.  William  Strickland,  sent  abroad  by  the 
Pennsylvania  Society  for  the  Promotion  of  Internal  Improvements, 
brought  back  a  report  on  English  railroading  in  1826.  Five  years 
later  several  steam  lines  were  operating  on  the  Atlantic  seaboard, 
and  English  locomotives  were  in  great  demand. 

In  1831  the  first  John  Bidl  had  gone  into  the  service  of  the  Cam- 
den and  Amboy  road.  Shortly  afterward,  another  John  Bull  was 
pulling  trains  on  the  Mohawk  and  Hudson.  And  before  Ogden  got 
his  idea  for  a  railway  into  the  Northwest,  British  machines  were 
too  numerous  to  be  noticed. 

These  locomotives  were  wrapped  up  in  mystery.  They  arrived 
with  English  assemblers  and  mechanics.  English  engineers  came 
along  to  drive  them  and  protect  them  from  the  inquisitive  eyes  of 
Yankee  inventors  and  designers. 

The  secrets,  such  as  they  were,  got  out.  Local  talent  promptly 
began  to  discard  them.  John  B.  Jervis  devised  a  front  truck  with 
two  axles  and  four  wheels  to  replace  the  British  rigid  front  axle  with 
its  two  wheels.  To  the  designs  of  Henry  R.  Campbell,  James  Brooks 
made  a  locomotive  equipped  with  four  drive  wheels  connected  with 
outside  rods.  The  American  locomotive  was  in  business.  But  it  was 
not  yet  independent  of  tradition. 


272  CENTunv    oi-    sehvice 

As  in  t]ie  United  States,  England's  only  pattern  for  railroad 
operation  liad  been  the  business  of  turnpikes  and  stagecoaches.  In 
England  it  was  customary  for  the  coachman  to  sit  on  the  right-hand 
side  of  the  box  so  he  would  have  his  right  hand  free  to  swing  the 
whip.  As  a  corollary  he  drove  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  road  so 
that  he  could  see  his  clearance  when  he  had  to  pass  somebody  com- 
ing toward  him. 

Thus,  when  locomotives  came  onto  the  English  scene  they  oper- 
ated on  the  left  side  of  the  right  of  way — in  so  far  as  there  was  any 
left  side — and  the  drivers  (paralleling  the  case  of  stagecoach  team- 
sters), were  given  a  place  at  the  right-hand  side  of  the  engine.  Engi- 
neers sit  on  tlie  right-hand  side  of  locomotive  cabs  to  this  day. 

Why  the  United  States  decided  to  break  away  from  the  road 
traditions  of  old  England  isn't  quite  clear.  Psychologists  say  that 
most  human  beings  are  right-handed  and  that  there  is  a  tendency 
among  right-handed  people  to  keep  to  the  right.  A\liich  is  probably 
true. 

England's  rule  of  keeping  to  the  left  on  the  highway  was  based 
on  the  principle  every  automobile  driver  knows,  that  in  traffic  it's 
better  to  see  the  middle  of  the  road  than  the  edges.  It  might  have 
been  adopted  without  question  by  the  United  States  save  that  the 
first  post  roads  had  no  right  and  left.  Like  the  pioneer  rail  lines 
they  were  single  track.  To  pass  somebody  else  you  got  off  the  high- 
way on  whichever  side  happened  to  be  convenient.  Early  American 
drivers  acquired  the  habit  of  keeping  to  the  right  because  there  was 
no  good  reason  for  doing  otherwise. 

With  the  coming  of  the  automobile  and  the  growing  congestion  of 
the  cities  in  the  1900's  it  was  discovered  that  Americans  hadn't  been 
entirely  logical  in  their  application  of  new  road  rules.  Horse  driv- 
ers, engine  drivers,  and  automobile  drivers  all  had  been  kept  in  their 
right-hand  seats.  And  some  of  them  were  beginning  to  find  out  why 
the  English  stage  driver  had  established  his  odd  coaching  tradition. 
It  hadn't  made  so  much  difference  to  the  locomotive  engineers,  who 
didn't  have  to  worry  much  about  steering.  And  unless  they  were  in 
an  unusual  hurry  the  surviving  specimens  of  horse  pilots  seldom 
locked  hubs  with  passing  traffic.  But  the  automobile  drivers,  who  had 
a  knack  of  smashing  tiie  left-hand  fenders  that  tliev  couldn't  see, 


NOTES     ON      A      SOUTHPAW      RAILROAD  273 

raised  a  protest  that  echoed  across  the  countr}'  and  in  all  parts  of 
Canada  except  Halifax. 

The  steering  wheel  of  the  automobile  was  then  moved  over  to  the 
left-hand  side  of  the  car — where  it  belongs  in  right-handed  traffic 
movements.  The  old-fashioned  buggy  went  out  of  business.  And  the 
engineer  continued  to  occupy  a  seat  on  the  right-hand  side  of  his 
cab. 

If  there  was  any  justification  for  the  changeover  of  automobile 
steering  apparatus,  his  perch  seems  a  little  illogical  except,  of 
course,  in  the  case  of  a  left-handed  railroad. 

We  seem  to  be  right  back  where  we  started  from. 

Maj'be  the  British  investors  weren't  more  interested  in  the  Galena 
and  Chicago  Union  or  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  any  more 
than  in  any  other  railroad  venture  of  the  sixties  and  seventies.  But 
it  is  interesting  to  study  some  of  the  place  names  that  lie  in  clusters 
along  the  right  of  way  between  Chicago  and  Lander,  Wyoming,  or 
Perth,  IMinnesota,  and  London,  Wisconsin. 

One  of  j'our  present  chroniclers  was  born  in  Beresford,  South 
Dakota,  about  the  time  the  railroad  was  hopefully  pushing  on  in  the 
direction  of  the  Big  Bad  Lands.  The  signs  on  the  stations  north  of 
Sioux  City  were  all  of  an  age  and  all  bright  and  new.  And  three  of 
them  appeared  in  interesting  sequence:  Hawarden,  named  for  the 
home  of  Gladstone;  Beresford,  titled  in  honor  of  Admiral  Lord 
Charles  Beresford;  and  Alcester,  so  called  for  Colonel  Alcester  of 
the  British  Army,  currently  hero  of  a  battle  in  the  Sudan.  Not  far 
away  was  Turton,  South  Dakota,  named  for  a  town  in  Lancashire, 
England.  And  over  around  the  corner  in  Iowa  was  Sutherland,  keep- 
ing green  the  memory  of  a  duke. 

There  are  plenty  of  other  such  evidences  of  hands  across  the  seas 
and  prairies:  Cobden,  Minnesota,  named  in  1886  for  the  great  Eng- 
lish liberal;  Brampton,  Michigan,  for  the  English  city;  Carnarvon, 
Iowa,  for  Carnarvon,  Wales;  Caledonia,  Illinois,  for  poetic  Scot- 
land; Dundee,  Illinois,  for  Dundee;  Esmond,  South  Dakota,  for 
Thackeray's  novel;  Ivanhoe,  Minnesota,  for  Scott's  novel;  Glad- 
stone, Michigan,  for  the  great  Gladstone;  Seaforth,  Minnesota,  for 
the  home  of  the  Seaforth  highlanders;  Mayfair,  Illinois,  for  guess 
where ;  Ipswich,  Wisconsin,  for  Ipswich,  England ;  Exeter,  Iowa,  for 


C  E  N  T  U  II  Y      OK      S  K  R  V  I  C  E 


the  cathedral  city;  Guernsey,  Iowa,  for  the  island  of  Guernsey; 
Avoiidale,  Illinois,  for  the  river  Avon;  Stratford,  Wisconsin,  for  the 
home  of  Shakespeare;  Argyle,  Illinois,  for  the  Scottish  Argyle; 
Bangor,  Wisconsin,  for  IJangor,  Wales;  Wolsey,  South  Dakota,  for 
Thomas  Cardinal  Wolsey. 

And  you  have  Bayfield,  Wisconsin,  honoring  the  British  officer 
who  first  explored  the  shores  of  Lake  Superior,  and  Pender  and 
Hartington,  both  in  Nebraska,  recalling  a  pair  of  English  lords  who 
invested  in  the  district  if  not  in  the  railroad  that  made  the  invest- 
ment worth  while.  Along  the  line  of  the  C  St  P  M  and  0,  the  names 
are  strung  out  as  thickly  as  the  stripes  on  an  old  school  tie:  Buxton, 
Nebraska;  Bramhall,  South  Dakota;  Derby,  Minnesota;  Albany, 
Wisconsin ;  Coleridge,  Wisconsin ;  Perth,  Minnesota ;  Eton,  Minne- 
sota. 

There  might  be  noted  also  Auburn,  Wisconsin,  named  for  Gold- 
smitli's  deserted  village,  and  Randolph,  Nebraska,  which  adds  to  the 
fame  of  Randolph  Churchill.  Afton  ("Flow  gently  .  .  .  among  thy 
green  braes")  is  on  the  Wisconsin  timetable.  W^ellington  is  to  be 
found  in  Michigan,  and  Nelson  in  Illinois. 

One  admits,  of  course,  that  this  roster  of  familiar  names  may 
mean  nothing  more  than  the  nostalgia  of  a  dozen  or  more  lonesome 
wanderers  from  the  British  Isles.  An  English  engineer,  whose  name 
escapes  us,  laid  out  much  of  the  original  townsite  of  Sioux  City, 
Iowa.  He  was  going  to  make  another  London  out  of  it  and  he  had 
plans  for  a  near-by  industrial  district  which  he  was  going  to  call 
Leeds. 

It  is  certainly  within  the  range  of  possibility  that  his  voice  may 
have  been  heard  in  the  naming  of  Hawarden,  Alcester,  and  Bercs- 
ford  only  a  few  miles  to  the  north.  On  the  other  hand,  he  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  left-handed  operation  of  the  Chicago  and  North  West- 
ern Railway  because  a  single  track  is  neither  right  nor  left. 

More  tangible  evidence  of  England's  friendship,  if  not  financial 
interest,  in  Will  Ogden's  railroad  is  oflTcrcd  by  Ernest  Poole  whose 
family  had  a  part  in  the  building  of  early  Chicago.  In  Giants  Gone 
he  tells  of  Ogden's  difficulties  in  the  panic  of  1857.  The  railroad 
builder,  he  recounts,  found  himself  heavily  obligated  for  the  debts  of 
his  roads,  for  one  of  which  he  alone  had  endorsed  notes  totaling  one 
and  a  half  million  dollars.  At  this  point,  Poole  observes,  his  failure 


NOTES     ON     A     SOUTHPAW     RAILROAD  275 

would  have  been  inevitable  save  for  his  connections  abroad.  However, 
it  is  to  be  doubted  that  any  "friendships"  had  an  effect  on  "left- 
hand"  building — which  actually  began  in  1855. 

What  one  seldom  reads  in  the  histories  of  the  period  is  that  Will 
Ogden  was  something  more  than  a  mousetrap  builder  waiting  for  a 
world  to  come  to  his  door.  He  was  also  an  international  trade  am- 
bassador— the  ubiquitous  evangelist  of  the  great  Northwest. 

By  the  early  fifties,  interest  in  railroads  had  begun  to  sweep 
Europe  as  well  as  the  United  States,  and  Ogden  was  received  for 
what  he  was — an  expert  in  a  new  and  amazing  field  of  enterprise.  He 
was  visited  by  engineers  in  France,  locomotive  makers  in  Germany, 
bankers  in  Holland,  and  investors  in  England. 

That  he  left  many  friends  in  the  British  Isles  and  that  his  enthusi- 
asm for  the  Northwest  had  been  contagious  is  obvious  in  the  sequel. 
Offers  of  help  came  quickly  when  word  got  abroad  that  he  was  in 
trouble.  One  man,  Poole  recounts,  tendered  all  his  fortune — a  half 
million  dollars.  A  Scottish  laird  made  a  similar  gesture  of  good  will 
and  verified  it  with  the  deposit  of  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  to 
Ogden's  credit  in  a  New  York  bank. 

Ogden  declined  the  offers,  appealed  to  the  faith  of  the  farmer 
customers  to  whom  he  had  sold  stock  in  his  railroads,  and  presently 
talked  himself  out  of  the  depression.  His  English  friends  presumably 
wrote  him  messages  of  congratulation  and  went  back  to  running 
their  own  railways  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  road.  All  of  which, 
of  course,  has  little  to  do  with  the  subject  under  discussion,  but 
makes  an  interesting  footnote. 


a 


hapter   35 

LOCALS     AND     STREAMLINERS 


If  yott  believe  the  maps,  the  Chic.if^o  and  North  Wostcrn  Railway 
consists  of  9,^62  miles  of  track  stretching  out  across  Illinois,  Wis- 
consin, Iowa,  Minnesota,  and  South  Dakota  into  Nebraska  and 
AVj'oming.  But  a  lot  of  grizzled  suburban  conductors  will  argue  the 
point  with  you.  To  them  the  whole  system  is  the  cluster  of  rails  hug- 
ging the  North  Shore  of  Chicago,  plus  the  route  that  follows  Ogden's 
old  survey  out  west  of  town  and  some  more  of  the  same  out  Wood- 
stock way — a  hundred  miles  or  so,  they  calculate  it — and  they'll  tell 
you  that's  enough.  When  you  have  to  run  over  it  five  or  six  times  a 
day,  the  mileage  adds  up. 

IManagcment  probably  will  agree  with  the  conductors.  It  is  an 
axiom  of  the  railroad  business  that  there  is  little  money  in  short 
hauls — whether  of  freight  or  of  passengers.  Until  the  advent  of  the 
streamliners  there  has  been  a  general  belief  that  profits  from  carr}'- 
ing  passengers  are  negligible  wherever  you  carry  them.  Freight  is 
easier  to  handle  and  it  doesn't  make  noises  about  sticking  windows 
or  the  springs  in  the  red  plush  seats. 

On  the  other  hand,  whether  it  is  profitable  or  not  or  a  public  bene- 
faction or  not,  the  North  Western's  suburban  service  is  as  much  a 
part  of  the  North  Western  as  the  main  line  up  into  the  iron  coun- 
try. If  the  railroad  is  going  to  be  a  hundred  years  old  this  year — 
well,  so  is  the  suburban  service.  (The  two  grew  up  simultaneously.) 
And  so,  one  may  presume,  are  some  of  the  customers.  Will  Ogden 
may  have  been  reaching  out  for  the  farm  products  of  the  Rock 
River,  Fox,  and  Dcs  Plaines  valleys  when  he  projected  the  Galena 
and  Chicago  Union  Railway.  But  it  is  liistory  that  he  was  presently 
hauling  the  former  carriage  trade  into   town   from   Cottage  Hill, 

276 


LOCALS     AND     STREAMLINERS 


277 


Aurora,  and  Cherry  Valley  at  from  twenty-five  to  seventy-five  cents 
a  head. 

While  considering  the  manner  in  which  the  North  Western  system 
helped  to  bring  Minnesota  out  of  the  wilderness  and  brought  civili- 
zation to  the  trans-Missouri  prairies,  historians  generally  overlook 
what  was  going  on  at  the  railroad's  point  of  origin.  It  was  the  subur- 
ban service  that  broke  the  sod  in  Rogers  Park  and  brought  the 
wealth  to  Lake  Forest  and  civilization  to  Evanston  and  pickle  fac- 
tories to  Clybourn  Junction.  Chicago  in  1891  had  a  population  of 
1,250,000  and  save  for  a  couple  of  cable  lines  under  construction  was 
still  traveling  about  in  horsecars.  It  was  the  suburban  service  that 
made  it  possible  for  people  to  move  out  into  the  fresh  country  air 
as  much  as  five  miles  from  the  center  of  the  city.  The  suburban  ser- 
vice made  possible  changes  in  the  horrible  housing  conditions  close 
to  the  river.  And  it  gave  commuting  office  workers  some  sense  of 
punctuality. 

Here  is  a  picture  of  suburban  travel  as  it  was  practiced  by  the 
hardy  pioneers  of  the  seventies.  Town  dwellers  who  occasionally  went 
to  Winnetka  or  Palatine  just  for  the  ride  were  generally  surprised 
at  the  large  collections  of  oil  lanterns  on  the  station  platforms. 
Word  got  around  that  in  railroading  the  wear  and  tear  on  lanterns 
was  terrific  and  that  every  switchman  had  to  carry  a  spare. 

The  largest  string  of  lanterns  was  outside  the  Davis  Street  station 
in  Evanston.  And  a  stranger,  who  inquired  about  them,  discovered 
that  they  belonged  not  to  the  railroad  personnel  but  to  commuters, 
men  who  had  taken  the  early  morning  trains  to  Chicago. 

"Raymond  Park,"  says  the  antiquarian  who  looked  into  the  mat- 
ter, "was  a  thickly  wooded  section  in  the  1870's,  and  on  an  early 
winter  morning,  those  woods  were  as  dark  as  the  inside  of  a  fireman's 
glove.  .  .  ." 

So  you  can  see  the  picture.  Father,  late  as  usual,  looks  up  at  the 
cuckoo  clock  as  he  scalds  his  throat  with  a  last  quick  cup  of  coffee. 
In  the  still,  empty  air  he  can  hear  the  engine  whistle  blowing  for 
Elser's  Crossing  up  there  on  the  other  side  of  Grosse  Point.  He  wipes 
his  mustache,  gives  Mamma  a  peck  on  the  check,  picks  up  his  lantern, 
and  starts  his  trek  through  the  black  forest  to  the  North  Western 
station. 

Survivors  of  those  fascinating  daj's  say  that  the  lanterns  of  com- 


278  CENTURY     OF     SERVICE 

niuters  loping  over  the  snow  trails  for  the  7:23  were  generally  so 
thick  that  the  woods  seemed  to  be  swarming  with  fireflies.  During 
the  day  the  station  attendant  would  service  the  lanterns,  trimming 
the  wicks,  and  filling  them  with  oil  so  that  the  owners  would  be  able 
to  find  their  way  home  in  the  evening. 

The  camaraderie  that  you  used  to  find  aboard  transcontinental 
trains  when  the  journey  from  Chicago  to  San  Francisco  took  three 
or  four  days  is  still  a  part  of  suburban  travel.  Everybody  rides  the 
same  train  every  weekday  for  years  on  end.  By  a  sort  of  squatter's 
right  he  establishes  title  to  his  own  seat,  and  this  is  respected  by 
people  who  have  laid  similar  claim  to  seats  of  their  own.  In  due  time 
he  gets  to  know  everybody  aboard  and  all  about  his  family.  There 
is  no  such  clearinghouse  for  gossip  in  the  world. 

A  card  game  got  started  on  the  Waukcgan  run  thirty  years  ago 
and  it's  been  going  on  ever  since.  The  cards  aren't  the  same,  or  the 
card  table  supplied  by  the  conductor — who  isn't  the  same  either — 
or  the  upholstery  on  the  plush  seats.  The  game  that  started  out  as 
cinch  has  gone  through  some  metamorphoses — whist,  auction  bridge, 
contract — but  the  players  haven't  changed,  nor  apparently  have 
they  ever  finished  a  rubber. 

The  society  of  the  suburban  trains  develops  Its  pets  and  bores 
just  like  other  societies.  The  late  Lew  Ferguson,  who  established  a 
record  for  endurance  as  a  conductor  on  the  North  Shore  haul,  re- 
called one  old  lad  who  was  virtually  ostracized  because  of  one  bad 
habit. 

Ferguson  observed :  "He  read  his  paper  too  early." 

Amplified,  this  meant  that  he  was  the  sort  of  man  who  combines 
his  reading  with  buttered  toast  and  soft-boiled  eggs  and  so  had  fin- 
ished his  absorption  of  the  morning's  news  by  the  time  he  got  to  the 
station.  With  nothing  much  to  do  between  Evanston  and  Chicago 
it  was  his  custom  to  flop  down  alongside  somebody  who  hadn't  read 
his  paper  and  engage  in  sprightly  conversation  about  his  grand- 
children or  his  setter  dog. 

"He  was  shunned  like  the  plague  by  everybody,"  said  Ferguson, 
"until  finally  he  had  nobody  to  talk  to  but  me.  Then  I  shunned  him 
too." 

The  conductors,  like  the  coninniters,  are  sid  generis.  They  are 
])e()ple   of  great   tact,   jiatience,   and    friendliness.   And    they   git    to 


LOCALS     AND     STREAMLINERS  279 

learn  more  about  human  beings  than  would  ever  be  possible  on  one 
of  those  long  runs  where  they  see  the  passenger  only  when  he  gets 
on  and  six  hours  later  when  he  gets  off.  There  have  been  times  when 
this  intimate  knowledge  of  how  people  behave  has  soured  them.  But 
usually  they  are  philosophically  tolerant.  Sometimes  the  urge  to  do 
something  for  people  whose  lives  are  spent  shuttling  to  and  from 
work  overpowers  them.  And  on  at  least  one  occasion  this  impulse 
took  a  novel  form.  One  conductor  on  the  Milwaukee  division  figured 
out  that  the  operating  corporation  had  a  lot  more  money  than  the 
poor  people  who  rode  the  trains.  Therefore,  it  seemed  logical  that 
the  corporation  ought  to  pay  the  fare.  So,  for  a  couple  of  years,  he 
made  a  practice  of  letting  everybody  travel  free.  He  would  snap  his 
punch  at  a  commutation  ticket — but  never  a  ride  came  off.  Eventu- 
ally the  corporation  caught  up  with  him  and  disagreed  with  his 
theory. 

Man}'  articles  reach  the  lost  and  found  department  from  the 
suburban  runs.  Since  the  first  time  a  North  Western  engineer  safely 
piloted  his  train  back  from  Waukegan,  the  inbound  traveler  has 
heard  the  conductor  bawl  his  last  warning:  "Chicago — remember 
your  parcels !"  It  is  as  much  a  slogan  of  the  North  Western  as 
"Safety  first."  But  there's  more  to  it  than  that.  The  conductor,  who 
knows  everybody  on  his  train,  is  sometimes  his  own  lost  and  found 
department.  If  you  forget  anything  going  into  town,  you  get  it 
back  on  your  way  home. 

In  a  fair  year  the  suburban  service  carries  about  nineteen  million 
passengers — an  expensive,  unremitting,  and  sometimes  thankless 
job.  But  after  a  hundred  3'ears  of  operation  it  is  still  one  of  the 
dominant  factors  in  Chicago's  transportation  system,  and  until 
somebody  discovers  what  you  do  with  an  automobile  when  you  get 
it  into  a  big  city,  it  is  going  to  be  increasingly  important. 

While  the  suburban  trains  plod  their  faithful  course  day  in  and 
day  out.  The  J^OO  and  other  high-speed  trains  flash  like  comets  across 
the  countryside.  In  an  age  of  speed,  the  North  Western  was  the  first 
to  put  superspeed  trains  on  long-distance  runs,  perhaps  because  of 
their  experience  with  the  "silk  train." 

Almost  forgotten,  now,  is  the  periodical  run  of  the  silk  train.  It 
hasn't  flashed  across  the  Northwest  since  the  attack  on  Pearl  Har- 


280  CENTURY     OF     SERVICE 

bor,  (ind  perhaps,  thanks  to  nylon  and  other  artificial  fibers,  may 
never  be  culled  upon  to  make  its  spectacular  dash  again.  But  it  gave 
the  world  a  grand  show  while  it  lasted. 

For  many  years,  when  there  were  no  imitations  worthy  of  the 
name,  virtually  all  of  America's  supply  of  silk  was  bought  in  the 
Japanese  market,  and  dealing  in  it  entailed  many  complications. 
Silk  was  definitely  what  you  might  call  a  cash  crop.  There  was 
always  a  market  for  it,  and  the  price  didn't  vary  much  from  year 
to  year.  As  a  medium  of  barter  and  exchange  it  would  have  had  just 
about  the  same  currency  as  the  gold  with  which  you  bought  it  on 
the  Yokohama  exchange.  It  differed  from  invested  money  only  in 
that  it  bore  no  interest. 

Therefore,  if  a  producer  owned  ten  thousand  yen  worth  of  silk, 
it  behooved  him  to  sell  it  and  get  his  pay  as  soon  as  possible.  Other- 
wise he  was  losing  the  interest  on  ten  thousand  yen  as  long  as  he  held 
it.  For  the  same  reason  the  buyer  had  to  deliver  it  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible to  a  manufacturer,  who  didn't  let  it  acquire  much  age  in  his 
stockroom.  The  bigger  the  operator,  of  course,  tlie  greater  his  fi- 
nancial interest  in  speed. 

So  the  silk  would  be  purchased  in  Japan  and  shipped  to  America 
by  the  shortest  route  on  the  fastest  available  ship.  It  would  be  in 
the  slings  ready  for  landing  before  the  ship  came  to  her  berth  in 
Seattle  and  San  Francisco.  And  before  the  passenger  list  had  been 
cleared,  stevedores  would  be  trundling  it  into  the  cars  of  the  waiting 
silk  train.  Once  the  train  was  loaded,  and  heavily  armed  guards 
mounted,  the  conductor  without  further  preliminaries  waved  his  hand 
and  hopped  aboard.  He  had  the  right  of  way  over  the  Great  North- 
ern tracks  all  the  way  to  St.  Paul  and  over  the  Union  Pacific  to 
Omaha. 

There  was  no  nonsense  involved  in  this  routine.  The  train  on  oc- 
casion might  be  hauling  a  shipment  worth  millions  of  dollars,  on 
which  investment  a  day's  additional  interest  might  be  considerable. 
So  the  crack  limiteds  and  the  red-ball  freights  got  out  of  the  way 
while  a  relay  of  the  best  locomotives  and  best  train  crews  on  the 
road  rolled  their  freight  across  the  continent.  At  Minnesota  transfer 
a  North  Western  locomotive,  guards,  and  crew  were  waiting  to  take 
it  to  Chicago,  and  the  same  procedure  took  place  at  Council  Bluffs. 

Unfortunatclv  the   records  of  the  train  on  the  first   stage  have 


LOCALS     AND     STREAMLINERS  281 

not  been  published.  But  it  is  known  that  the  Chicago  and  North 
Western  managed  to  maintain  an  average  speed  of  around  a  mile  a 
minute,  which  experience  may  well  have  prompted  such  innovations 
as  what  the  trade  calls  "superspeed  trains."  On  January  2,  1935, 
the  North  Western  put  the  first  ^00  on  the  Twin  City  run — the  fast- 
est train  for  such  a  distance  in  the  world. 

The  performance  astonished  operations  experts  on  other  roads 
because  it  involved  no  radically  designed  equipment.  Four  Pacific- 
type  locomotives  were  taken  into  the  Chicago  shops  and  refitted  with 
79-inch  drive  wheels  at  a  cost  of  fourteen  thousand  dollars  each. 
Tenders  were  equipped  to  carry  15,000  gallons  of  water  and  5,000 
gallons  of  oil — enough  for  a  nonstop  trip.  The  train  was  made  up 
of  all-steel  cars,  not  radically  different  in  design  from  cars  on  other 
crack  trains.  The  ensemble  was  called  The  Ji-OO  because  it  is  about 
400  miles  to  St.  Paul,  and  the  scheduled  running  time  was  slightly 
less  than  400  minutes. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  initial  time  was  seven  hours  from  Chicago 
to  St.  Paul.  This  was  reduced  a  half  an  hour  in  the  first  six  months, 
and  from  then  on  the  train  regularly  ran  409  miles  in  390  minutes, 
a  little  better  than  an  average  of  60  miles  an  hour. 

The  IfiO  was  the  fastest  train  between  starting  point  and  terminus 
in  America.  As  the  first  train  on  the  continent  to  run  at  high  speeds 
for  sustained  periods  on  scheduled  runs,  it  set  new  standards  for 
much  of  the  country's  passenger  train  service.  The  diesel-powered 
streamliners,  the  City  of  San  Francisco  and  the  City  of  Los  Angeles, 
run  in  cooperation  with  the  Union  Pacific  and  Southern  Pacific, 
have  also  been  pace-setters. 


Ci 


lapter   36 

THE     FIRST     HUNDRED     YEARS 
ARE     THE     HARDEST 


The  North  Westekx's  most  spectacular  contribution  to  recent 
railroading  was  its  demonstrations,  begun  in  19.'55,  that  superspeed 
trains  are  not  only  feasible  but  profitable.  The  success  of  the  first 
J^OO  was  the  success  of  every  streamliner  that  has  come  since,  revolu- 
tionizing the  country's  passenger  service  and  making  possible  such 
luxuries  as  the  daily  Cliij  of  San  Francisco.  But  it  wasn't  the  com- 
pany's first  newsworthy  innovation,  or  the  most  important. 

When,  in  1863,  a  North  Western  freight  conductor  stuck  his  head 
through  the  hole  in  the  roof  of  his  damaged  caboose  and  discovered 
that  he  had  an  excellent  view  of  his  train  ahead,  he  was  inadvertently 
demonstrating  that  safety  innovations  are  not  always  premeditated. 
The  view  through  the  caboose  roof  gave  the  conductor  an  idea;  he, 
in  turn,  transmitted  it  to  officei-s  at  the  railroad's  nearest  car  shops 
where  new  cabooses  were  a-buildiiig.  The  results  were  apparent  a 
few  weeks  later  when  the  first  cabooses  with  cupolas  rolled  off  the 
line.  The  cupola  has  been  a  caboose  characteristic  until  recent  years, 
when  boxcars  got  too  high.  Bay  windows  that  permit  a  view  along- 
side the  train  are  taking  the  place  of  the  sun  parlor  on  top.  But  the 
principle  is  the  same,  and  still  sound. 

The  North  Western  was  the  first  railroad  to  run  sleeping  cars 
west  of  Chicago  (1858);  the  first,  in  conjunction  witli  the  Union 
Pacific  and  Central  Pacific,  the  latter  now  the  Southern  Pacific,  to 
carry  dining  cars  between  Chicago  and  San  Francisco  (1869);  the 
first  to  install  a  permanent  railway  post-office  service  (1864');  the 
m;unif;u-turer  of  the  first   railway  post-office   cars   for   the   United 


THE     FIRST     HUNDRED     YEARS     ARE     THE      HARDEST  ZOd 

States  Government  (1865).  But  what  is  more  significant  than  all 
of  this  is  the  fact  that  in  1857 — eight  years  after  the  running  of  its 
first  train — the  railroad  was  tlie  first  in  the  West  to  operate  by  tele- 
graph. 

In  1910  Ralph  C.  Richards,  general  claim  agent  for  the  railroad, 
took  the  phrase  "Safety  first"  and  sent  it  on  its  way  to  become  the 
slogan  of  the  thoughtful  and  the  careful  all  over  the  United  States. 
He  had  previously  written  a  book  called  Railroad  Accidents,  Their 
Caiise  and  Prevention,  setting  forth  tlie  thesis  that  accidents  are  the 
result  of  a  chain  of  circumstances  that  can  be  stopped  at  the  begin- 
ning. The  nation's  railroads  were  interested,  but  it  was  the  North 
Western  that  first  set  up  a  department  dedicated  to  safety  and  the 
prevention  of  crippling  mishaps. 

Richards's  demonstration  that  it  was  possible  to  reduce  worka- 
day casualty  lists  through  organized  effort  led,  in  1912,  to  the 
formation  of  the  National  Safety  Council.  On  this  subject  the  Coun- 
cil is  now  one  of  the  final  authorities  in  the  United  States. 

In  1913  the  rate  of  casualties  of  all  sorts,  nonfatal  as  well  as 
fatal,  was  about  39  for  each  million  man-hours.  Thirty  years  later 
the  rate  was  below  12  casualties  for  each  million  man-hours.  This 
was  about  the  same  as  400  working  years.  As  it  is  now,  a  railroad 
employee  has  one  chance  of  a  fatal  accident  every  4,000,000  man- 
hours  or  roughly  1,600  working  years. 

In  1948  the  National  Safety  Council  honored  the  North  Western 
with  a  special  Council  award  for  exceptional  service  to  safety.  The 
certificate  presented  to  R.  L.  Williams,  president  of  the  railway,  by 
Ned  H.  Dearborn,  president  of  the  Council,  bore  this  citation:  "A 
pioneer  in  safety,  the  Chicago  and  North  Western  has  steadfastly 
sought  over  the  years  to  protect  its  passengers  and  employees  from 
accidents,  with  conspicuous  success." 

The  railway  has  a  far  better  than  average  record  in  the  Railroad 
Employees  National  Safety  Contest  conducted  annually  by  the 
Council.  Since  the  first  contest  in  1927,  it  has  won  five  first-place 
awards,  and  while  its  safety  record  did  not  stand  high  consistently 
every  year,  it  has  achieved  an  employee  accident  rate  over  the  past 
twenty  years  26  per  cent  better  than  the  average  for  all  Class  1 
railroads. 

Among  the  safety  firsts  of  recent  years   credited  to   the  North 


284  CENTURY     OF     SERVICE 

Western  is  the  development  of  the  Mars  light,  a  powerful  beam  that 
oscillates  with  a  figure-eight  motion  at  the  front  of  a  train.  This 
light  changes  to  red  automatically,  and  a  similar  red  light  goes 
on  at  the  rear  of  the  train,  whenever  the  train  makes  an  emergency 
stop  or  the  engineer  releases  air-brake  pressure  to  a  certain  point. 
The  development  of  the  oscillating  light  goes  back  to  1936  when  it 
was  first  installed  on  the  high-speed  JfOO.  Like  many  inventions,  the 
light  had  many  "bugs"  in  it,  but  operating  officials  saw  great  prom- 
ise in  its  possibilities.  They  worked  patiently  on  the  "gadget"  in 
the  face  of  disinterest  by  other  railroads.  Theirs  and  the  manufac- 
turer's efforts  were  rewarded  when  they  finally  got  the  light  per- 
fected to  its  present  state  so  that  it  would  be  an  advance  warning 
to  all  of  the  onrush  of  a  fast  train,  as  well  as  a  "stop"  order  to  all 
other  trains  when  the  light  turned  red. 

"This  is  an  important  development  in  the  art  of  railroading,"  says 
C.  H.  Longman,  vice-president  in  charge  of  operations.  "It's  purpose 
is  to  protect  trains  making  emergency  stops  from  rear  end  collisions 
or,  in  the  event  of  derailment,  from  being  sidcswipcd  by  trains  on 
other  tracks.  The  red  lights  operate  instantaneously,  should  the 
engineer  apply  the  brakes  or  throw  a  control  switch,  or  should  an 
air  hose  part  between  cars.  The  lights  serve  as  stop  warnings  to 
trains  approaching  from  either  direction.  They  are  visible  for  sev- 
eral miles  on  a  clear  night  and  have  a  long  range  in  daylight." 

All  North  Western  through  and  suburban  trains  have  been 
equipped  with  these  lights  front  and  rear.  It  is  interesting  to  note 
that  the  usefulness  of  the  lights  has  reached  beyond  the  confines  of 
the  North  Western  to  the  point  that  scores  of  crack  trains  of  many 
of  the  nation's  railroads  now  flash  the  oscillating  lights. 

Another  of  the  railroad's  striking  efforts  to  make  life  safe  for 
passengers  as  well  as  freight  was  the  completion  in  1928  of  the  first 
large-scale  system  of  continuous  automatic  train  control.  The  in- 
stallation between  Chicago  and  Council  Bluffs  on  the  railroad's 
high-speed  heavy-density  main  line  cost  two  and  a  half  million  dol- 
lars and  was  looked  upon  by  old-time  railroad  men  as  a  species  of 
black  magic.  Through  electronic  relays  the  control  permits  trains 
to  go  no  faster  than  a  previously  set  maximum.  But  it  docs  more  than 
that.  It  permits  discarding  of  wayside  signals  by  installation  of 
those  same  signals  rigiit  in  the  engineer's  cab.  The  control  constantly 


THE      FIRST      HUNDRED     YEARS     ARE     THE      HARDEST  ^iHS 

tells  the  engineer  through  those  signals  what  the  condition  of  the 
track  ahead  may  be,  day  or  night  and  in  all  kinds  of  weather.  At 
times  it  signals  the  engineer  to  reduce  speed  or  stop.  If  the  engineer 
fails  to  respond,  it  gives  him  a  leeway  of  a  few  seconds,  and  then 
moves  in  to  do  the  job  for  him.  It  is  one  of  the  miracles  that  have 
made  American  railroads  consistently  the  safest  mode  of  transpor- 
tation in  the  world. 

When  you  stand  in  the  concourse  of  the  Chicago  and  North  West- 
ern Railway  terminal  in  Chicago,  you  are  probably  in  closer  touch 
with  distant  places  than  anywhere  else  on  earth.  Here,  during  the 
summer  months  when  resort  travel  is  at  its  peak,  you  can  board  a 
train  and  without  changing  cars  or  leaving  the  North  Western  sys- 
tem's tracks  you  can  ride  to  the  Upper  Peninsula  of  Michigan;  to 
the  North  Woods  of  Wisconsin ;  to  Duluth,  gateway  to  IMinnesota's 
Arrowhead  recreation  country ;  across  Wisconsin,  Minnesota,  and 
South  Dakota  to  the  Black  Hills ;  across  Northern  Illinois,  Iowa 
and  Nebraska  into  the  Black  Hills ;  or  straight  west  to  Lander,  Wy- 
oming, in  the  foothills  of  the  Grand  Tetons.  And  certainly  without 
leaving  your  car  and  almost  without  getting  out  of  your  seat,  you 
can  travel  over  North  Western  and  connecting  lines  across  the 
Canadian  border  to  Banff,  Lake  Louise,  and  Vancouver;  to  Yellow- 
stone Park,  Sun  Valley,  and  the  Pacific  Northwest ;  to  the  Grand 
Canyon,  Bryce  Canyon,  Zion  National  Park,  Kaibab  National  For- 
est ;  or  you  can  go  directly  to  Denver  and  Portland  and  San  Fran- 
cisco and  Los  Angeles.  And  aboard  the  new  streamliners  you  can  go 
with  speed  and  comfort. 

The  little  strap-rail  track  that  ran  out  of  Chicago  toward  Cot- 
tage Hill  over  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  road  has  stretched  a 
lot  since  1848.  Today,  even  after  the  removal  of  duplicate  lines  and 
unprofitable  spurs,  it  consists  of  14,158.65  miles  of  track  (including 
double  track)  and  9,3.32.91  miles  of  road. 

William  Butler  Ogden's  first  equipment  of  a  few  cars  has  length- 
ened into  a  train  of  52,700  cars  of  all  classes.  And  the  little  old  third- 
hand  Pioneer  has  turned  out  to  be  the  great-grandfather  of  1,242 
locomotives,  including  165  diesels,  the  latter  an  unheard-of  breed 
of  power  100  years  ago. 

To  Chicago's  gates  the  North  Western  brings  a  varied  wealth 


286  CENTURY     OF      SEHVICE 

from  a  vast  productive  land:  wheat,  corn,  oats,  flour,  hay,  straw, 
alfalfa,  citrus  and  other  fruits,  potatoes,  vegetables ;  livestock,  poul- 
tr}',  fresh  meat,  eggs,  butter,  cheese;  coal,  coke,  iron  ore,  crude 
petroleum,  gravel,  sand,  crushed  stone;  logs,  pulpwood,  lumber; 
gasoline,  sugar,  syrup,  cement,  brick,  autos,  trucks,  tires,  parts ; 
beverages,  canned  foods,  iron  and  steel,  paper.  In  19-i7  the  total 
tonnage  was : 

Agricultural  products 10,638,384 

Animals  and  pro(Uicts 1  ,!)()8, 13G 

Products  of  mines 23,474,037 

Forest  products 5,701 ,871 

Manufactures 18,145,984 

Operating  revenue  of  $207,660,480  in  1947  was  the  greatest  in  the 
system's  history. 

The  old  Icft-lmndcd  railway  has  had  an  interesting  if  somewhat 
difficult  century.  It  has  fought  with  bankers,  with  legislatures,  with 
courts,  with  drought,  floods,  blizzards,  and  Federal  tax-makers.  One 
of  the  most  powerful  influences  in  the  development  of  the  country 
between  Chicago  and  the  Black  Hills  to  the  west  and  Lake  Superior 
to  the  north,  it  must  now  be  appraised  by  a  generation  that  never 
saw  an  Indian  or  a  virgin  prairie.  It  must  go  on  and  on  meeting  new 
competition,  new  restrictions,  new  taxes  and  costs.  But  at  any  rate 
it  has  what  the  engineers  call  the  "habit  of  existence."  It  has  sur- 
vived financial  panics  and  wars  as  well  as  prairie  fires  and  Sioux 
massacre.  It  has  learned  to  work  its  miracles  in  adversity. 

If  there  is  any  truth  to  the  fact  that  history  repeats  itself,  ahead 
of  it  the  railroad  must  face  still  more  adversities.  It  must  face  them 
because  it  has  become  so  important  in  the  economy  of  the  people  of 
the  Middle  West  that  it  is  unthinkable  for  it  to  stop.  The  men  at 
its  helm  aren't  thinking  of  stopping  because  they  are  purchasing 
new  and  better  locomotives,  expanding  its  fleet  of  freight  and  passen- 
ger cars,  rebuilding  or  remodeling  its  stations,  and  in  hundreds  of 
other  ways  demonstrating  that  the  railroad  intends  to  be  a  charac- 
teristic of  the  Middle  West's  terrain  for  a  long  time  to  come. 

Unlike  its  existence  in  the  early  days  when  it  was  the  only  railroad 
in  the  Middle  West,  today  it  competes  vigorously  with  many  other 
lines  as  well  as  with  other  forms  of  transportation  for  tlie  patronage 


THE     FIRST     HUNDRED     YEARS     ARE     THE      HARDEST  ZOV 

of  the  public.  A  century  ago  it  pioneered  in  a  wilderness ;  in  future 
years  it  must  pioneer  to  hold  its  own.  AVliatever  its  future  holds  out, 
the  railroad's  directorate,  perhaps,  is  justified  in  the  belief  that 
the  first  hundred  years  are  the  hardest. 


APPENDIX 

PRESIDENTS    OF     CHICAGO    AND     NORTH 
WESTERN    RAILWAY    COMPANY 

Name  Date  elected 

William  B.  Ogden June  7,  1859 

Henry  Keep June  4,  1868 

Alexander  Mitchell Sept.    1,  1869 

John  F.  Tracy June  3,  1870 

Albert  Keep June  19,  1873 

Marvin  Hughitt June  2,  1887 

William  A.  Gardner Oct.  20,  1910 

Richard  H.  Aishton May  23,  1916 

WUliam  H.  Finley June  11,  1918 

Fred  W.  Sargent June  23,  1925 

R.  L.  Williams July  25,  1939  * 

June  1,  1944  t 

*  Chief  executive  officer  for  trustee. 

t  President. 

PRESIDENTS  OF  GALENA  AND  CHICAGO 
UNION  RAILROAD  COMPANY 

Name  Date  elected 

Theophilus  W.  Smith July     3,  1836 

Elijah  K.  Hubbard Nov.  29,  1837 

James  H.  Collins Dec.  29,  1845 

William  B.  Ogden Feb.  17,  1846 

John  B.  Turner June    5,  1851 

Walter  L.  Newberry June     1,  1859 

William  H.  Brown June    4,  1862 

John  B.  Turner June     1,  1864 

BRIEF    HISTORY    OF    CHICAGO    AND    NORTH 
WESTERN'S    CHICAGO    PASSENGER    STATIONS 

Station  No.   1 

1848:  Built  in  fall  of  this  year  just  south  of  Kinzie  Street  and  just  west 
of  Canal  Street  a  few  feet  west  of  current  location  of  bridge  crossing 
North  Branch  of  Chicago  River  at  Kinzie  Street.  Depot  which  was 
289 


2i)0  APPENDIX 

Cliicago's  first  railroad  station  ran  east  and  west  with  railroad  tracks 
along  soutli  side  of  building.  In  I848  station  had  one  story.  Second 
story  added  to  wooden  frame  structure  in  1819.  Used  for  both  freight 
and  passengers  by  Galena  and  Cliicago  Union  Railroad,  now  part  of 
North  Western.  Burlington  Road  also  used  this  station  for  some  time 
after  1850  as  well  as  tracks  from  Chicago  to  West  Chicago  until  it 
could  build  its  own  tracks  in  Chicago.  Building  was  used  by  Galena 
road  until  1853  when  it  was  converted  to  a  railroad  employee's  read- 
ing room.  It  was  torn  down  in  the  1880's.  Bronze  plaque  today  marks 
site  of  station. 

Station   No.   2 

1853:  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  built  station  of  brick  and  stone  in  1852- 
1853  on  west  side  of  Wells  Street  and  on  north  bank  of  Chicago  River. 
Station  was  two  stories  high,  running  east  and  west  with  tracks  on 
south  side  of  station,  and  with  passenger  entrance  from  Wells  Street. 
In  1862—1863  Wells  Street  was  raised  about  eight  feet,  the  railroad 
temporarily  closing  station  to  make  this  work  possible.  At  the  same 
time  railroad  took  advantage  of  closing  to  add  30  feet  to  its  length 
and  to  add  a  third  story.  The  station  remained  in  use  until  destroyed 
by  the  Great  Chicago  Fire  of  1871. 

St.4tion   No.   3 

1854:  Built  by  Illinois  and  Wisconsin  Railroad  Company,  one  of  early 
components  of  the  North  Western.  Station  was  of  wood  with  a  general 
shanty  appearance,  with  back  to  West  Water  Street  if  it  had  been 
opened  north  of  Kinzie  Street,  with  its  gable  end  toward  Kinzie  Street, 
the  building  running  north  and  south  parallel  and  close  to  west  bank 
of  North  Branch  of  Chicago  River.  Trains  operated  northward  out  of 
it.  Building  was  torn  down  in  1856  to  make  room  for  a  new  station 
(No.  5). 

Station  No.  4 

1855:  Chicago  and  Milwaukee  Railroad  (early  component  of  North 
Western)  operated  trains  from  Chicago  northward  to  Wisconsin  state 
line.  In  1855  it  built  what  was  then  called  Milwaukee  Passenger  Depot. 
In  those  days  a  street  known  as  Dunn  ran  from  West  Kinzie  north- 
westerly and  along  east  side  of  what  is  now  Milwaukee  Avenue.  North 
and  parallel  to  Kinzie  was  a  street  known  as  Cook.  The  one-story 
wooden  building  was  erected  in  the  triangle  formed  by  Dunn,  Cook, 
and  Kinzie  streets.  Building  ultimately  passed  into  hands  of  North 
Western. 


appendix  291 

Station  No.  5 

1856:  A  pretentious  wooden  structure  with  a  huge  domed  train  shed  was 
built  by  the  Chicago,  St.  Paul  and  Fond  du  Lac  Railroad  in  place  of 
Station  No.  3  which  was  torn  down.  With  the  consolidation  of  the 
Chicago  and  Milwaukee  and  the  Milwaukee  and  Chicago  railroads  and 
ultimately  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union,  this  station  was  used  for 
all  the  passenger  traffic  of  those  lines  which  eventually  became  part  of 
the  North  Western.  It  stood  just  north  of  Kinzie  Street  on  the  west 
bank  of  the  North  Branch  of  the  river.  It  was  known  as  the  Kinzie 
Street  Depot.  It  was  abandoned  with  the  completion  in  1881  of  the 
Wells  Street  Depot  (Station  No.  8). 

Station  No.  6 

1862:  In  1851  the  Galena  road  bought  land  (block  1  of  original  town  of 
Chicago)  on  north  bank  of  river  just  east  of  Dearborn  Street  and 
south  of  Kinzie.  There  it  erected  in  1862  a  building  two  stories  high, 
first  stor_v  to  be  used  for  freight.  Because  of  changing  of  elevation  of 
Wells  Street  in  1862  and  the  temporary  closing  down  of  Station  No.  2 
for  passenger  use  for  a  period  of  about  one  year.  Station  No.  6  was 
opened  to  passenger  traffic  during  this  period.  This  building  was  de- 
stroyed in  the  Chicago  Fire  of  1871. 

Station  No.  7 

1871:  A  wooden  structure  hastily  built  by  North  Western  in  late  fall  of 
1871  to  take  the  place  of  Station  No.  2  which  had  been  destroyed  in 
the  Chicago  Fire.  Its  entrance  was  from  Wells  Street  and  its  location 
the  same  as  that  of  Station  No.  2. 

Station  No.  8 

1880:  Built  during  years  1880-1881  by  North  Western,  and  the  railroad's 
largest  Chicago  terminal  up  to  that  time.  Located  on  corner  of  Wells 
and  Kinzie  streets.  Building  was  of  stone  with  several  towers  carrying 
out  the  elaborate  architecture  common  in  that  period.  First  trains  ran 
into  it  on  May  23,  1881.  Later  an  annex  for  suburban  traffic  was  added 
to  station  which  was  known  as  Wells  Street  Depot.  It  was  used  until 
present  terminal  built  in  1911.  Wells  Street  Depot  was  eventually  torn 
down  and  in  its  place  the  Merchandise  Mart  was  erected. 

Station  No,  9 

(911:  Built  by  Chicago  and  North  Western  at  a  cost  of  approximately 
twenty-four  million  dollars,  of  which  about  six  million  dollars  was  for 


292 


APPENDIX 


Station  building  and  train  shed  alone.  Constructed  largely  of  steel, 
stone,  and  concrete,  it  covers  several  city  blocks  with  almost  three  miles 
of  track  under  its  passenger  train  sheds  having  a  capacity  of  229  cars. 
About  80,000  passengers  pass  through  the  station  daUy,  with  this  figure 
often  reaching  100,000  during  the  peak  jjcriods  of  World  War  II. 
Building  and  train  sheds  are  bounded  by  Madison,  Clinton,  Lake,  and 
Canal  streets  witli  front  of  building  facing  south  on  Madison  Street. 
Building  is  only  a  few  hundred  feet  from  site  of  original  station  of 
1848. 


A    LIST    OF    THE    DIRECTORS    OF    THE    CHICAGO 

AND     NORTH    AV  E  S  T  E  R  N     RAILWAY     C  O  :M  P  A  N  Y 

AND    THEIR    TERMS    OF     OFFICE 

From  the  organization  of  the  company  to  May  1,  1948 


William  B.  Ogden June 

Perry  H.  Smith Juue 

E.  W.  Hutcliings June 

Charles  Butler June 

Thomas  H.  Perkins June 

Mahlon  D.  Ogden June 

Alex  C.  Coventry June 

Henry  Smith June 

James  R.  Young June 

J.  J.  R.  Pease June 

M.  C.  Darling June 

Albert  Winslow June 

George  M.  Bartholomew June 

H.  H.  Boody June 

William  C.  Langley June 

James  A.  Edgar June 

A.  L.  Pritchard June 

L.  M.  Miller June 

Jolun  Maxwell June 

William  A.  Booth June 

T.  H.  Perkins June 

William  II.  Dyckman Nov. 

David  Dowcs June 

I>owell  Ilolbrook June 

C.  S.  Sey ton June 


'^ror 

I 

To 

7 

1859 

June 

4,  1808 

7, 

1859 

June 

3,  1809 

7, 

1859 

June 

7,  1800 

7, 

1859 

June 

0,  1801 

7, 

1859 

June 

7,  1800 

7, 

1859 

June 

8,  1859 

7, 

1859 

June 

8,  1859 

7, 

1859 

June 

8.  1859 

7, 

1859 

June 

7,  1800 

7, 

1859 

Nov. 

17,  1805 

7, 

1859 

Aug. 

18,  1804 

7, 

1859 

Juue 

0,  1801 

7, 

1859 

June 

2,  1804 

8, 

1859 

June 

2,  1804 

8, 

1859 

June 

7,  1800 

8, 

1859 

June 

7,  1800 

7, 

1800 

June 

3,  1804 

7, 

1800 

June 

0,  1801 

7, 

1800 

June 

6,  1801 

7, 

1800 

June 

2,  1804 

7, 

1800 

Nov. 

23,  1800 

23, 

1800 

June 

6,  1801 

C, 

1801 

June 

5,  1803 

G, 

1801 

June 

2,  1804 

C, 

1801 

Fell. 

18,  1804 

i 


APPENDIX 


293 


From 


Austin  Baldwin June     6 

George  Smith June     6 

George  L.  Duiilap June 

J.  D.  Fish June 

Joseph  A.  Wood June 

WUliam  B.  Scott Feb. 

James  AV.  Elwell June 

Samuel  J.  Tilden June 

William  H.  Ferry June 

John  B.  Turner June 

Thomas  D.  Robertson June 

H.  H.  Boody June  11 

Lowell  Ilolbrook June  11 

William  A.  Booth June  11 

George  i\I.  Bartholomew June  11 

A.  L.  Pritchartl June  11 

Jolui  M.  Burke Aug.  18 

Benjamin  Nathan June     1 

Julien  S.  Rumsey June 

James  D.  Fish June 

William  B.  Scott Nov. 

Samuel  Sloan June 

Adrian  Islin June 

M.  L.  Sykes,  Jr July 

Henry  Keep Nov. 

H.  H.  Baxter May  15 

James  H.  Benedict June 

George  S.  Scott June 

John  Bloodgood June 

F.  P.  James June 

W.  S.  Gurnee June 

Russell  Sage June 

Alexander  Mitchell June 

Henry  R.  Pierson Apr. 

A.  G.  Dulman June 

J.  L.  Ten  Have June 

John  B.  Turner June 

John  E.  Williams Sept. 

Alanson  Robinson Oct. 

Charles  R.  Marvin June 

Harvey  Kennedy June 

A.  B.  Baylis June 

W.  L.  Scott June 

Milton  Courtright June     2 


,  1861 
,  1861 
,  1862 
,  1803 
,  1803 
,  180-i 
,  1864 
,  1804 
,  1864 
,  1804 
,  1864 
,  1864 
,  1864 
,  1864 
,  1864 
,  1864 
,  1864 
,  1865 
,  1865 
,  1865 
,  1865 
,  1807 
,  1807 
,  1867 
,  1807 
,  1868 
,  1868 
,  1868 
,  1868 
,  1808 
,  1868 
,  1808 
,  1868 
,  1809 
,  1809 
,  1809 
,  1809 
,  1809 
,  1869 
,  1870 
,  1870 
,  1870 
,  1870 
,  1870 


To 
June  4 
June 
June 
June  1 
June  2 
June  1 
June  4 
June 
June 
Apr. 
June 
May  15 
June  4 
June 
June  6 
June  4 
June 
June 
June 
Nov.  25 
July  22 
June  3 
June  4 
Nov.  11 
July  11 
Mar.  10 
Oct.   6 
June 
June 
June  2 
June 
June 
June 
June 


Oct.  20 
Ju 

June  1 
June 
June  2, 
INIar, 
June  C 
June 
Sept.  19 
June  1 


,  1863 
,  1863 
,  1871 
,  1865 
,  1864 
,  1865 
,  1868 
,  1868 
,  1869 
,  1809 
,  1867 
,  1808 
,  1868 
,  1868 
,  1807 
,  1868 
,  1873 
,  1870 
,  1865 
,  1807 
,  1867 
,  1809 
,  1868 
,  1902 
,  1869 
,  1871 
,  1809 
,  1875 
,  1870 
,  1870 
,  1870 
,  1870 
,  1870 
,  1871 
,  1890 
,  1879 
,  1871 
,  1870 
,  1870 
,  1877 
,  1878 
■,  1877 
,  1891 
,  1876 


APPENDIX 


From 
June    2,  1870 


R.  P.  Flower 

II.  II.  Porter June 

Jolin  F.  Tracy June 

David  Dowes June 

F.  II.  Tows June 

William  H.  Ferry June 

B.  F.  Allen June 

Albert  Keep June 

S.  M.  Mills June 

James  H.  Howe June 

John  Bloodgood June 

Jay  Gould Mar. 

William  H.  Ferry Mar. 

Sidney  Dillon Mar. 

Oliver  Ames Mar. 

John  M.  Burke June 

Marvin  Hughitt June 

David  Jones June 

Perry  H.  Smith June 

Frank  Work June 

C.  J.  Osborn June 

D.  P.  Morgan June 

Augustus  Schell June 

Chaiincey  M.  Depew June 

Samuel  F.  Barger June 

D.O.Mills June 

Anson  Stager June 

F.  W.  Vanderbilt June     2 

N.  K.  Fairbank June     7 

II.  McK.  Twonibly June     5 

J.  B.  Rcdfield June     5 

W.  K.  Vanderbilt Sept.  27 

Horace  Williams Sept.  2' 

David  P.  Kimball Sept.  2' 

John  I.  Blair June 

Percy  R.  Pyne June 

Frederick  L.  Ames June 

James  C.  Fargo June 

Byron  L.  Smith June 

Oliver  Ames  II June 

Cyrus  II.  McCormick June 

James  Stillman June 

Zenas  Crane June 

Marshall  Field Dec. 


1870 
1870 
1871 
1871 
1871 
1871 
1873 
1875 
1875 
1870 
1877 
1877 
1877 
1877 
1877 
1877 
1878 
1878 
1878 
1878 
1878 
1879 
1879 
1879 
1880 
1881 
1881 
1883 
1884 
1884 
1884 
1884 
1884 
1885 
1886 
1889 
1891 
1892 
1894 
1895 
1895 
1895 
1899 


June 

June 

Mar. 

June 

Mar. 

Mar. 

June 

May 

June 

June 

June 

Sept. 

Jime 

Sept. 

June 

June 

Jan. 

June 

June 

June 

Nov. 

June 

Mar. 

Apr. 

Oct. 

June 

Nov. 

June 

Nov. 

Jan. 

Sept. 

July 

Aug. 

Aug. 

Dec. 

Feb. 

Sept. 

Feb. 

Mar. 

June 

Jan. 

Mar. 

Dec. 

Jan. 


To 
5, 
6, 
3, 
7, 
3, 
3, 
3, 

20, 
C, 
C. 
6, 

27, 
5, 

27, 
7, 
6, 
6, 


APPENDIX 


295 


From 

Henry  C.  Frick Nov.  11,  1902 

Frank  Work Nov.  11,  1002 

Chauncey  Keep Feb.   19,  1906 

E.  E.  Osborn Oct.    17,  1907 

John  V.  Farwell Oct.    21,  1909 

Homer  A.  Miller Oct.    21,  1909 

W.  A.  Gardner Apr.    13,  1910 

William  K.  Vanderbilt,  Jr Apr.    12,  1911 

Harold  S.  Vanderbilt May     4,  1914 

Edward  M.  Hyzer June     8.  1915 

Richard  H.  Aishton May  2.S,  191G 

Edmund  D.  Hull)ert Feb.  26,  1918 

Henry  C.  McEldowney Apr.     9,  1918 

William  H.  Finley June  11,  1918 

ChUds  Frick Apr.     8,  1919 

James  A.  Stillman Apr.     8,  1919 

Samuel  A.  Lynde Apr.     8,  1919 

Gordon  Abbott Apr.   13,  1920 

James  B.  Sheean Oct.    14,  1920 

MarshaU  Field  HI Feb.     8,  1921 

Albert  A.  Sprague Apr.   10,  1923 

Walter  W.  Head Sept.  11,  1923 

Fred  W.  Sargent Apr.     8,  1924 

Ray  N.  Van  Doren Nov.  10,  1925 

John  D.  Caldwell Apr.    13,  1926 

W.  Seward  Webb Dec.  14,  1926 

Charles  W.  Nash Apr.   12,  1927 

John  D.  CaldweU Apr.   10,  1928 

John  Stuart Jan.      8,  1929 

Edson  S.  Woodworth Nov.    7,  1929 

Arthur  S.  Pierce Apr.     8,  1930 

W.  Rufus  Abbott Apr.   15,  1930 

Samuel  H.  Cady Apr.   11,  1933 

Barret  Conway Apr.   11,  1933 

W.  Dale  Clark Apr.   10,  1934 

Walter  J.  Kohler Apr.     9,  1935 

Harry  W.  Rush Apr.     9,  1935 

Benjamin  F.  Kauffman Apr.    13,  1937 

John  H.  MacMUlan,  Jr Apr.    13,  1937 

R.  L.  Williams Dec.     6,  1939 

William  H.  Schellberg Apr.     9,  1940 

Chester  O.  Wanvig Apr.     9,  1940 

Robert  K.  Stuart ' Apr.     9,  1940 

Robert  E.  Smith Apr.     9,  1940 


To 
Dec.  2 
Mar.  16 
Aug.  12 
Oct.  21 
Apr, 
Apr 
May  11 
Dec.  14 
Dec.  3 
Apr.  8 
June  11 
Mar.  30 
Mar.  9 
June  23 
Oct.  13 
Feb.  8 
Feb.  22 
Apr.  17 
Apr.  8 
Apr.  13 
Oct.  14 
Apr.  10 
June  1 
Jan.  12 
Apr.  12 
Nov.  9 
May  19 
Feb.  5 
Sept.  12 
July  24 
May  19, 
May  19 
June  30 
June  1 
Feb.  15 
Apr.  21 
Dec.  6 
May  19 
Mar.  3 
Oct.  9 
May  19 
May  19 
May  19 
July     2 


,  1919 
,  1911 
,  1929 
,  1909 
,  1919 
,  1919 
,  1916 
,  1926 
,  1940 
,  1919 
,  1918 
,  1923 
,  1935 
,  1925 
,  1925 
,  1921 
,  1940 
,  1935 
,  1924 
,  1937 
,  1936 
,  1934 
,  1939 
,  1933 
,  1927 
,  1939 
,  1944 
,  1933 
,  1934 
,  1935 
,  1944 
,  1944 
,  1942 
,  1944 
,  1940 
,  1940 
,  1939 
,  1944 
,  1948 
,  1940 
,  1944 
,  1944 
,  1944 
,  1942 


29G 

From 

Guy  A.  Tliomas Apr.  9,  1940 

Ix'onanl  E.  Iliirtz Apr.  8,  1941 

Harry  \V.  HarrLsoii Apr.  8,  1941 

John  L.  Banks Apr.  8,  1941 

William  E.  Buclianan Jinie  1,  1944 

William  T.  Faricy June  1,  1944 

William  C.  Frye June  1.  1944 

Meyer  Kestnbaum June  1,  1944 

Howard  J.  Klossner June  1,  1944 

John  Nuveen,  Jr June  1.  1944 

Frefl  N.  Oliver Juno  1,  1944 

Walter  P.  I'aepeke June  1,  1944 

Eugene  A.  Schmidt,  Jr June  1,  1944 

Harold  W.  Sweatt June  1,  1944 

Frcleriek  W.  Walker June  1,  1944 

Harry  L.  Wells June  1,  1944 

R.  L.  Williams June  1,  1944 

Arthur  R.  Seder Apr.  3,  1947 

Walter  Geist May  20,  1947 

Harry  G.  McNeely Mar.  3,  1948 

Barret  Conway Mar.  3,  1948 

*  Incumbent  as  of  May  1,  1948. 


API' 

E  N  D  I  X 

To 

May 

19,  1944 

* 

May 

19,  1944 

May 

19,  1944 

Mar.  31,  1947 


Mar.     3,  1948 


May  20,  1947 


STATIONS     OF     THE     CHICAGO    AND     NORTH 
WESTERN     RAILWAY     SYSTEM 


Aberdeen,  S.D. 
Abie,  Neb. 
Adams,  Wis. 
Adrian,  Minn. 
Afton,  Wis. 
Agar,  S.D. 
Agiiew,  III. 
Ainsworth,  Neb. 
Akron,  III. 
Albion,  Neb. 
Alcester,  S.D. 
Alden,  Iowa 
Algona,  Iowa 
Algonouin,  III. 
Allen,  111. 
Allcnville,  W'is. 


AUouez,  Wis. 
Almond,  Wis. 
Almont,  Iowa 
Alpha,  Mieh. 
Altamont,  S.D. 
Alton.  Iowa 
Alloona,  Wis. 
Amasa,  Mich. 
Amber,  Iowa 
Amboy,  Minn. 
Ames,  Iowa 
Amiret,  Minn. 
Anamosa,  Iowa 
Andover,  Iowa 
Andrews,  Neb. 
Aniwa,  Wis. 
Ankcny,  Iowa 


Anoka,  Neb. 
Anson,  W'is. 
Anston,  Wis. 
Antigo,  Wis. 
Antoine,  Mich. 
Appleby,  S.D. 
Aiipleton,  Wis. 
Appleton  Jet.,  Wis. 
Arabia,  Neb. 
Arapahoe,  Wyo. 
Arcadia,  Iowa 
Archer,  III. 
Arco,  Minn. 
Aredale,  Iowa 
Argonne,  S.D. 
Arion,  Iowa 
Arlington,  Neb. 


APPENDIX 


297 


Arlington,  S.D. 
Arlington  Heights,  111. 
Arpin,  Wis. 
Arthur,  Iowa 
Ashippun,  Wis. 
Ashland,  Wis. 
Ashland  Jet.,  Wis. 
Ashton,  111. 
Ashton,  Iowa 
Astoria,  S.D. 
Athol,  S.D. 
Atkinson,  Neb. 
Auburn,  Iowa 
Audubon, Iowa 
Augusta,  Wis. 
Aurora,  S.D. 
Austin,  111. 
Avoca,  Minn. 
Avondale,  El. 

B 

Badger,  Wis. 
Bagley,  Mich. 
Balaton,  Minn. 
Baldwin,  Iowa 
Baldwin,  Wis. 
Balsam,  Mich. 
Bancroft,  Iowa 
Bancroft,  Neb. 
Bancroft,  Wis. 
Bando,  111. 
Bangor,  Wis. 
Bannerman,  Wis. 
Baraboo,  Wis. 
Bark  River,  Mich. 
Barksdale,  Wis. 
Barneveld,  Wis. 
Barr,  111. 
Barrington,  III. 
Barronett,  Wis. 
Barton,  Wis. 
Bassett,  Neb. 
Basswood,  Mich. 
Battle  Creek,  Iowa 
Battle  Creek,  Neb. 


Ba^-field,  Wis. 
Baj'port,  Miiui. 
Beaman,  Iowa 
Bear  Creek,  Wis. 
Beaton,  Mich. 
Beaver,  Iowa 
Beaver,  Mich. 
Beaver  Creek,  Minn. 
Beaver  Crossing,  Neb. 
Bee,  Neb. 
Beechwood,  Mich. 
Beemer,  Neb. 
Beldenville,  Wis. 
Belgium,  Wis. 
Belle  Fourche,  S.D. 
Belle  Plaine,  Iowa 
Belle  Plaine,  Minn. 
Bellevue,  Wis. 
Bellwood,  El. 
Beloit,  Wis. 
Belvidere,  111. 
Benld,  111. 
Bennett,  Wis. 
Bennington,  Neb. 
Benoit,  Wis. 
Benton,  Wis. 
Beresford,  S.D. 
Berne,  Iowa 
Berryville,  Wis. 
Bertram,  Iowa 
Bessemer,  Mich. 
Bigelow,  Minn. 
Big  Falls,  Wis. 
Big  Suamico,  Wis. 
Bingham  Lake,  Minn. 
Birch,  Wis. 
Birchwood,  Wis. 
Birnamwood,  Wis. 
Black  River  FaUs,  Wis. 
Black  Tail,  S.D. 
Blackwell  Jet.,  Wis. 
Blair,  Neb. 
Blairstown,  Iowa 
Blakeley,  Minn. 
Blencoe,  Iowa 


Blodgett,  El. 
Bloomer,  Wis. 
Bloomfield,  Neb. 
Blue  Earth,  Minn. 
Blue  Mounds,  Wis. 
Blunt,  S.D. 
Boardman,  Wis. 
Bonduel,  Wis. 
Bonesteel,  S.D. 
Bonita,  Wis. 
Boone,  Iowa 
Bordeaux,  Neb. 
Botna,  Iowa 
Bowler,  Wis. 
Box  Elder,  S.D. 
Boyer,  Iowa 
Bradgate,  Iowa 
Braeside,  111. 
Brainard,  Neb. 
Brampton,  Mich. 
Branch,  Wis. 
Brandon,  S.D. 
Brayson,  111. 
Breda,  Iowa 
Breed,  Wis. 
Brewster,  Minn. 
Bricelyn,  Minn. 
Brill,  Wis. 
BrUlion,  Wis. 
Bristow,  Neb. 
Broadland,  S.D. 
Broadmoor,  111. 
Bronson,  Iowa 
Brookings,  S.D. 
Brooklyn,  Wis. 
Brooks,  Wis. 
Bruce,  S.D. 
Brunet,  Wis. 
Bruno,  Neb. 
Brunsville,  Iowa 
Bryant,  Iowa 
Bryant,  Wis. 
Buckbee,  Wis. 
Buckmgham,  Iowa 
Bucknum,  Wyo. 


298 


A  P  I'  E  N  U  I  X 


Ruda.  III. 
Buffalo  Gap,  S.D. 
Btirchard,  Minn. 
Uurke,  S.D. 
Burkharilt,  Wis. 
Biirkmere,  S.D. 
Burnett,  Wis. 
Burr,  Minn. 
Burt,  Iowa 
Bulk-r,  Wis. 
Butlcrfield,  Minn. 
Byron,  Minn. 


Cable,  Wis. 
Cadams,  Neb. 
Cadoma,  Wyo. 
Calamus,  Iowa 
Caledonia,  111. 
Calhoun,  Wis. 
California  Jet.,  Iowa 
Callon,  Wis. 
Calvary,  Wis. 
Cambria,  Minn. 
Cameron,  Wis. 
Campbell,  Midi. 
Campbellsport,  Wis. 
Camp  Douglas,  Wis. 
Camp  Grove,  111. 
Camp  Logan,  III. 
Camp  McCoy,  Wis. 
Canby,  Minn. 
Canistota,  S.D. 
Canning,  S.D. 
Canova,  S.D. 
Capa,  S.D. 
Capron,  111. 
Careyliurst,  Wyo. 
Carlisle,  Neb. 
Carnarvon,  Iowa 
Carncs,  Iowa 
Carney,  Mich. 
Carnforth,  Iowa 
Carjientersvillc,  111. 
Carroll,  Iowa 


Carroll,  Neb. 
Cunollville,  Wis. 
Carter  (Forest  Co.),  Wis. 
Carlersville,  Iowa 
Carthage,  S.D. 
Cary,  111. 
Casper,  Wyo. 
Caspian,  Mich. 
Castana,  Iowa 
Castlewood,  S.D. 
Cato,  Wis. 
Cavour,  S.D. 
Cedar,  Wis. 
Cedar  Bluffs,  Neb. 
Cedar  (Jrove,  Wis. 
Cedarhursl,  Wis. 
Cedar  Rapids,  Iowa 
Center  Jet.,  Iowa 
Centerville,  S.D. 
Ceresco,  Neb. 
Ceylon,  Minn. 
Chadron,  Neb. 
Chaison,  Mich. 
Charlotte,  Iowa 
ChallieUl,  Minn. 
Chelsea,  Iowa 
Chenumg,  111. 
Cherry  Valley,  111. 
Chetek,  Wis. 
Chicago,  111. 
Chili,  Wis. 

Chippewa  Falls,  Wis. 
Chittenden,  III. 
Churchill,  111. 
Cisco  Lake,  Mich. 
Claremont,  Minn. 
Clarence,  Iowa 
Clark,  S.D. 
Clarkson,  Neb. 
Clayton,  Wis. 
Clear  Lake,  Wis. 
Clearwater,  Neb. 
Clearwater  Lake,  Wis. 
("leinents,  Minn. 
Ch-veland,  Wis. 


Clinton,  Iowa 
Clinton,  Nel). 
Clinton  Jet.,  Wis. 
Clintonville,  Wis. 
Clowry,  Mich. 
Clutier,  Iowa 
Clybourn,  111. 
Clynian,  Wis. 
Clyman  Jet.,  Wis. 
Cobb,  Wis. 
Cobden,  Minn. 
Coburn,  Neb. 
Cody,  Neb. 
Coleridge,  Neb. 
Colo,  Iowa 
Colonic,  S.D. 
Colon,  Neb. 
Columbia,  S.D. 
Columbia,  Wis. 
Combined  Locks,  AVis. 
Comfrey,  Minn. 
Commonwealth,  Wis. 
Comstock,  Wis. 
Concord.  Neb. 
Coiide,  S.D. 
Conover,  Wis. 
Cotirad,  Iowa 
Cordova,  Neb. 
Cornell,  Wis. 
Comlea,  Neb. 
Correctionville,  Iowa 
Cortland,  111. 
Cottage  Grove,  Wis. 
Cottonwood,  S.D. 
Couderay,  Wis. 
Council  Bluffs,  Iowa 
Council  Bluffs  Transfer, 

Iowa 
County  Line  (I'ierce 

Co.),  Wis. 
Courtland,  Minn. 
Cragin,  lU. 
Craig,  Iowa 
Craig,  Neb. 
Crandon,  S.D. 


APPENDIX 


Crandon,  Wis. 
Crawford,  Neb. 
Cray,  Minn. 
Creighton,  Neb. 
Crescent,  Iowa 
Creston,  111. 
Creston,  Neb. 
Crofton,  Neb. 
Crookston,  Neb. 
CroweU,  Neb. 
Crystal  Falls,  Mich. 
Crystal  Lake,  lU. 
Cuba  City,  Wis. 
Cudahy,  Wis. 
Culver,  111. 
Cumberland,  111. 
Cumberland,  Wis. 
Currie,  Minn. 
Cusliing,  Iowa 
Cutler,  Wis. 
Cuyler  (Chicago),  111. 

D 

Daggett,  Mich. 
Dakota  City,  Iowa 
Dakota  City,  Neb. 
Dale,  Neb. 
Dallas,  S.D. 
Dalton,  Wis. 
Dalzell,  111. 
Danbury,  Iowa 
Dane,  Wis. 
Darfur,  Minn. 
Davenport,  Neb. 
Dayton,  Iowa 
Deadwood,  S.D. 
Deep  River,  Iowa 
Deerbrook,  Wis. 
Deerfield,  Wis. 
Deering  (Chicago),  111. 
Deer  Park,  Wis. 
De  Kalb,  lU. 
Delfelders,  Wyo. 
Delft,  Minn. 
Dellwood,  Wis. 


Delmar,  Iowa 
Dempster,  S.D. 
Denison,  Iowa 
Denmark,  Wis. 
De  Pere,  Wis. 
De  Smet,  S.D. 
Des  Moines,  Iowa 
De  Soto,  Neb. 
Des  Plaines,  111. 
Devils  Lake,  Wis. 
Devon  Ave.  (Chicago), 

111. 
De  Witt,  Iowa 
Dike,  Iowa 
Dixon,  111. 
Dodge,  Neb. 
Dodge  Center,  Minn. 
Dodgeville,  Wis. 
Doland,  S.D. 
Doliver,  Iowa 
Dotson,  Minn. 
Dougherty,  Iowa 
Douglas,  Wyo. 
Dousman,  Wis. 
Dover,  Minn. 
Dovray,  Minn. 
Dow  City,  Iowa 
Drummond,  Wis. 
Duck  Creek,  Wis. 
Dudley,  I\Iinn. 
Duluth,  Minn. 
Dumont,  Iowa 
Dundas,  Wis. 
Dmidee,  111. 
Dundee,  Minn. 
Dunes  Park,  111. 
Dunlap,  Iowa 
Dwight,  Neb. 


Eagle  Grove,  Iowa 
Eagle  Lake,  Minn. 
Eagle  Point,  Wis. 
Eagle  River,  Wis. 
Eakin,  S.D. 


Earl,  Wis. 
EarlviUe,  111. 
Early,  Iowa 
East  End  (Superior), 

Wis. 
East  Rockford,  111. 
East  Waupun,  Wis. 
Eau  Claire,  Wis. 
Eddy,  111. 
Eden,  Wis. 
Edgar,  Wis. 
Edison  Park,  HI. 
Edmund,  Wis. 
Eland,  Wis. 
Elberon,  Iowa 
Elburn,  111. 
Elcho,  Wis. 
Elderon,  Wis. 
Eldora,  Iowa 
Eldorado,  Wis. 
Eleva,  Wis. 
Elgin,  111. 
Elgin,  Minn. 
Elgin,  Neb. 
Eli,  Neb. 
Elkhorn,  Neb. 
Elk  Mound,  Wis. 
Elkton,  S.D. 
Ellis,  S.D. 
Ellsworth,  Iowa 
Ellsworth,  Wis. 
Elmhurst,  111. 
Elnihurst,  Wis. 
Elmore,  Minn. 
Elmwood,  Mich. 
Elroy,  Wis. 
Elton,  Wis. 
Elva,  lU. 
Emerson,  Neb. 
Emmet,  Neb. 
Engle,  Wis. 
Enterprise,  Wis. 
Escanaba,  Mich. 
Esmond,  S.D. 
Essig,  Minn. 


300 


APPENDIX 


K-tellinc.  S.D. 
Evan,  Minn. 
Evanston,  111. 
Evansville,  Wis 
EwinK.  Not). 
Exeter,  Neb. 
Eyota,  Minn. 


Fairburn,  S.D. 
Fairchild,  Wis. 
Fairfax,  Iowa 
Fairfax,  S.D. 
Fairmont,  Minn. 
Fall  Creek,  Wis. 
Farmer,  S.D. 
Farnliamville,  Iowa 
Faulkton,  S.D. 
Fellows,  Wis. 
Fennimore,  Wis. 
Fenton,  Iowa 
Fenwood,  Wis. 
Ferney,  S.D. 
Fetterman,  Wyo. 
Flagg,  111. 
Florence,  Neb. 
Florence,  W'is. 
Fond  du  Lac,  W'is. 
Footville,  W'is. 
Fordyce,  Neb. 
Forest  Jet.,  Wis. 
Fort  Atkinson,  Wis. 
Fort  Calhoun,  Neb. 
Fort  Pierre,  S.D. 
Fort  Robinson,  Neb. 
Fort  Sheridan,  111. 
Foster,  Neb. 
Fox  Lake,  Minn. 
Fox  River  Grove,  111. 
Francis  Creek,  Wis. 
Frankfort,  S.D. 
Franklin  Grove,  111. 
Freeport,  111. 
Fremont,  Neb. 
Frieshind,  Wis. 


Frost,  Minn. 
Fruitdale,  S.D. 
Fulton,  S.D. 
Funiee,  Mich. 


Gagcn,  Wis. 
Galliraith,  Iowa 
Galesville,  Wis. 
Galloway,  Wis. 
Gull,  Ilk 
Galva,  Iowa 
Garden  Cit}',  ]\[inn. 
Garden  IVairie,  111. 
Garvin,  Minn. 
Garwin,  Iowa 
Gary,  S.D. 
Geneva,  111. 
Geneva,  Neb. 
Genoa  City,  Wis. 
Gentian,  Mich. 
Gettysburg,  S.D. 
Ghent,  Minn. 
Gifford,  Iowa 
Gilbert,  Iowa 
Gilberts,  111. 
Gilfillan,  Minn. 
Gillett,  Wis. 
Girard,  111. 
Ciladbrook,  Iowa 
Gladstone  Park,  111. 
Glen,  Neb. 
Glenbeulah,  Wis. 
Glencoe,  III. 
Glen  Ellyn.  111. 
Glenoak,  Wis. 
Glenrock,  Wyo. 
Glidden,  Iowa 
Glover,  Wis. 
Goehner,  Neb. 
Gogebic,  Mich. 
Goldfield,  Iowa 
Goodwin.  S.D. 
Goose  Lake,  Iowa 
Gordon,  Neb. 


Gordon,  Wis. 
Gorman,  S.D. 
Gowrie,  Iowa 
Grand  Detour,  111. 
Grand  Jet.,  Iowa 
Grand  Marsh,  Wis. 
Grand  Mound,  Iowa 
Grand  View,  Wis. 
Granton,  Wis. 
Granville,  Iowa 
Granville,  Wis. 
Gray,  Iowa 
Great  Lakes,  111. 
Green  Bay,  Wis. 
Green  Lake,  Wis. 
Green  Valley,  111. 
Green  Valley,  Wis. 
Greenville,  Wis. 
Greenwood  Blvd.,  HI. 
Gregory,  S.D. 
Gridley,  Iowa 
Grimms,  Wis. 
Grogan,  Minn. 
Groton,  S.D. 
Guckeen,  Minn. 
Guernsey,  Iowa 

H 

Hadar,  Neb. 
Hadley,  Minn. 
Hahnaman,  111. 
Haifa,  Iowa 
Hammond,  Wis. 
Hanlontown,  Iowa 
Hansen,  Mich. 
Harcourt,  Iowa 
Harlan,  Iowa 
Harris,  Mich. 
Harrison,  Neb. 
Harrison,  Wis. 
Harrold,  S.D. 
Hartford.  S.D. 
Hartington.  Neb. 
Hartland,  111. 
Hartleys,  Mich. 


APPENDIX 

Harlwick,  Iowa 
Harvard,  111. 
Hatley,  Wis. 
Haugen,  Wis. 
Havana,  Minn. 
Havelock,  Iowa 
Haven,  Wis. 
Haverhill,  Minn. 
Hawarden,  Iowa 
Hawthorne,  Wis. 
Hay  Springs,  Neb. 
Hayward,  Wis. 
Hazel,  Mich. 
Hecla,  S.D. 
Helena,  Mich. 
Helenville,  Wis. 
Hematite,  Mich. 
Henderson,  Minn. 
Hendricks,  Minn. 
Henry,  S.D. 
Herman,  Neb. 
Hermansville,  Mich. 

Hermosa,  S.D. 

Heron  Lake,  Minn. 

Herrick,  S.D. 

Herring,  Iowa 

Hersey,  Wis. 

Hetland,  S.D. 

Hicks,  Iowa 

Highland  Park,  111. 

Highmore,  S.D. 

Highwood,  111. 

Hiles,  Wis. 

Hines,  Wis. 

Hinton,  Iowa 

Hitchcock,  S.D. 

Holabird,  S.D. 

Holstein,  Iowa 

Honey  Creek,  Iowa 

Hooker,  S.D. 

Hooper,  Neb. 

Hortonville,  Wis. 

Hoskins,  Neb. 

Hospers,  Iowa 
Hot  Springs,  S.D. 


301 


Houghton,  S.D. 
Howells,  Neb. 
Hubbard,  Iowa 
Hubbard,  Neb. 
Hubbard  Woods,  111. 
Hubly,  111. 
Hudson,  Wis. 
Hudson,  Wyo. 
Hudson  City,  Wis. 
Hughes,  Iowa 
Hull's  Crossing,  Wis. 
Humbird,  Wis. 
Humboldt,  S.D. 
Hiunphrey,  Neb. 
Huntuig,  Wis. 
Huntley,  111. 
Hurley,  S.D. 
Hurley,  Wis. 
Huron,  S.D. 
Hustler,  Wis. 


Ida  Grove,  Iowa 
lUco,  Wyo. 
Imogene,  Muin. 
Indiantown,  Mich. 
Ingalls,  Mich. 
Inman,  Neb. 
Iowa  Falls,  Iowa 
Ipswich,  Wis. 
Ireton,  Iowa 

Iron  Mountain,  Mich. 

Iron  River,  Mich. 

Ironwood,  Mich. 

Iroquois,  S.D. 

Irvine,  Wyo. 

Irving  Park,  111. 

Irvington,  Iowa 

Irvington,  Neb. 

Irwin,  Iowa 

Irwin,  Neb. 

Ishpeming,  Mich. 

Itasca,  Wis. 

Ivanhoe,  Minn. 

Ives,  Wis. 


Jackson,  Wis. 
James,  Iowa 
Janesville,  Miiui. 
Janesville,  Wis. 
JefFers,  Minn. 
Jefferson,  Iowa 
Jefferson,  Wis. 
Jefferson  Jet.,  Wis. 
Jefferson  Park,  111. 
Jewell,  Iowa 
Jim  Falls,  Wis. 
Jireh,  Wyo. 
Johnson  Creek,  Wis. 
Johnstown,  Neb. 
Joice,  Iowa 
Jordan,  Iowa 
Jordan,  Minn. 
Judson,  Minn. 
Juneau,  AYis. 

K 
Kampeska,  S.D. 
Kamrar,  Iowa 
Kasota,  Miim. 
Kasson,  Minn. 
Kaukauna,  Wis. 
Kedzie,  111. 
Keeline,  Wyo. 
Keesus,  Wis. 
Kellcy,  Iowa 
Kellner,  Wis. 
Kelly,  Wis. 
Kempster,  Wis. 
Kendalls,  Wis. 
Kenilworth,  111. 
Kennard,  Neb. 
Kenosha,  Wis. 
Kesley,  Iowa 
Kew,  Mich. 
Kewaskum,  Wis. 
Kiester,  Minn. 
Kilgore,  Neb. 
Kimball,  Wis. 


.•502 


A  P  I"  K  N  D  I  X 


Kiiiilierly,  Wis. 
Kiiinsloy,  Iowa 
Kirkiiiiin.  Iowa 
Kiron,  Iowa 
Klevcnville,  Wis. 
Kloman,  Mich. 
Kiuipp,  Wis. 
Krakow,  Wis. 
Kraii/.hurf;,  S.D. 
Kurlli,  Wis. 


Lac  du  Flambeau,  Wis. 
La  Crosse,  Wis. 
La  Fox,  111. 
Lake  Benton,  Minn. 
Lake  Uluff,  111. 
Lake  City,  Iowa 
Lake  Como,  Wis. 
Lake  Crystal,  Minn. 
Lake  Elmo,  Minn. 
Lake  Forest,  111. 
Lake  Geneva,  Wis. 
Lake  George,  Wis. 
Lakeland  Jot.,  Minn. 
Lake  Mills,  Iowa 
Lake  Mills,  Wis. 
Lake  Owen,  Wis. 
I^ake  Preston,  S.D. 
Lakeside,  Wis. 
Lake  Tomahawk,  W  is. 
Lake  \  iew,  Iowa 
Lake  Wilson,  Miim. 
Lakewood,  Wis. 
Lainbcrton,  Mimi. 
Lamoille,  Iowa 
Lampson,  Wis. 
Lancaster,  Wis. 
Lancaster  Jet.,  W  is. 
Lander,  Wyo. 
Land  O'Lakes,  Wis. 
Langley,  111. 
Laona,  Wis. 
Larch,  Mich. 
Larscn,  Wis. 


Lalhrop,  Mich. 
Laurel,  Nel). 
Laurens,  Iowa 
La  Valle,  Wis. 
Lawn  Hill,  Iowa 
Lawrence,  III. 
Lawrence,  Miim. 
Lawton,  Iowa 
Layton  Park,  Wis. 
I>ead,  S.D. 
Lcajjers,  Mich. 
Leat,  Neb. 
Lebanon,  S.D. 
Lebanon,  Wis. 
I-edyard,  Iowa 
Le  Grand,  Iowa 
Leigh,  Neb. 
Le  Mars,  Iowa 
Lemington,  Wis. 
Lenox,  Wis. 
Leonards,  Wis. 
Le  Sueur,  Minn. 
Levis,  Wis. 
Lewiston,  ]\Iiim. 
Lewisville,  Minn. 
Leyden,  Wis. 
Liberty,  Wis. 
Lick,  111. 

Lime  Creek,  Mum. 
liincoln.  Neb. 
Liiiderman,  Wis. 
Lindsay,  Neb. 
Linn  Grove,  Iowa 
Linwoo<l,  Neb. 
Lisbon,  Iowa 
Little  Chute,  Wis. 
Little  Lake,  Mich. 
Little  Rapids,  Wis. 
Little  Suamico,  Wis. 
Livingston,  Wis. 
Ixjdi,  Wis. 
Logan,  Iowa 
Lohrville,  Iowa 
Lohrvillc,  Wis. 
Lombard,  111. 


Ixindon,  Wis. 
I-one  Pock,  Iowa 
I^ng  I-ake,  Wis. 
Long  Pine,  Neb. 
Loretta,  Wis. 
Loretto,  Mich. 
Loretto,  Neb. 
Lost  Springs,  Wyo. 
Loveland,  Iowa 
Lowden,  Iowa 
Low  Moor,  Iowa 
Lucan,  Minn. 
Ludden,  N.D. 
Lusk,  Wyo. 
Luther,  in. 
Luverne,  Iowa 
Luverne,  !Minn. 
Luzerne,  Iowa 
Lynch,  Neb. 
Lyndhurst,  Wis. 
Lyons,  Iowa 
Lyons,  Neb. 
Lytles,  Wis. 

M 
McFarland,  ]\Iich. 
McGirr,  111. 
McHenry,  111. 
McMillan,  Wis. 
McNally,  Iowa 
McNaughton,  Wis. 
Madelia,  Minn. 
Madison,  Wis. 
Magnet,  Neb. 
Magnolia,  Jlinn. 
Magnolia,  Wis. 
Main  St.  (Evanston), 

lU. 
Malone,  Iowa 
Malone,  Wis. 
Malta,  III. 
Malvern,  Wis. 
Manchester,  S.D. 
Manitowish,  Wis. 
Manitowoc,  Wis. 


APPENDIX 


303 


Mankato,  Minn. 
Mauley,  Minn. 
Manlius,  III. 
JNIanning,  Iowa 
Mansfield,  S.D. 
Manville,  Wyo. 
Manyaska,  Minn. 
Maple  Park,  111. 
Maple  River,  Iowa 
Mapleton,  Iowa 
Mapleton,  Wis. 
Maplewood  (Chicago), 

111. 
Maquoketa,  Iowa 
Marathon,  Iowa 
JNIaratlion  City,  Wis. 
Marengo,  111. 
Marenisco,  Mich. 
IMaribel,  Wis. 
Marinette,  Wis. 
Marion,  Wis. 
Marlands,  Wis. 
Marna,  Minn. 
Marshall,  Minn. 
Marshalltown,  Iowa 
Marshfield,  Wis. 
Marshland,  Wis. 
Martland,  Neb. 
Mason,  Wis. 
Mason  City,  Iowa 
Mastodon,  Mich. 
Mattoon,  Wis. 
IMaurice,  Iowa 
Maj-fair,  111. 
May  wood,  111. 
Meadow  Grove,  Neb. 
Mechanicsville,  Iowa 
Medina,  Wis. 
Medina  Jet.,  Wis. 
Melrose  Park,  111. 
Menasha,  Wis. 
Mendota,  Minn. 
Mendota,  Wis. 
Menomuiee,  Mic'li. 
Menomonie,  Wis. 


Menomonie  Jet.,  Wis. 
Mequon,  Wis. 
Mercer,  Wis. 
Meriden,  Minn. 
Merriam,  Minn. 
Merrill,  Iowa 
Merrillan,  Wis. 
Merrimac,  Wis. 
Merriman,  Neb. 
Midland,  S.D. 
Midway,  Wis. 
Miller,  S.D. 
Millston,  Wis. 
Miloma,  Minn. 
Milroy,  Minn. 
Milton  Jet.,  Wis. 
Milwaukee,  Wis. 
Minneapolis,  Minn. 
Mimieopa,  Minn. 
Minneota,  Miiui. 
Minnesota  City,  Minn. 
Minnesota  Jet.,  Wis. 
Minong,  Wis. 
Miranda,  S.D. 
Missouri  Valley,  Iowa 
Mitchell.  S.D.' 
Modale,  Iowa 
Mondamin,  Iowa 
Mondovi,  Wis. 
Moutfort,  Wis. 
Monico,  Wis. 
Monmouth,  Iowa 
Monowi,  Neb. 
Monroe,  S.D. 
Monfort  Jet.,  Wis. 
Montour,  Iowa 
Montrose,  S.D. 
Moorhead,  Iowa 
Morgan,  Minn. 
Moritz,  S.D. 
Morrison,  lU. 
Morse,  111. 
Morse  Bluff,  Neb. 
Mosher,  S.D. 
Mountain,  Wis. 


Mountain  Lake,  Minn. 
Mount  Horeb,  Wis. 
Mount  Prospect,  lU. 
Mount  Vernon,  Iowa 
]\Ioville,  Iowa 
Mudbaden,  Minn. 

N 
Nachusa,  111. 
Naeora,  Neb. 
Narenta,  Mich. 
Nashville,  Iowa 
Nashville,  Neb. 
Nashville,  Wis. 
Neble,  Wyo. 
Necedah,  Wis. 
Neenali,  Wis. 
Negaunee,  Mich. 
Neillsville,  Wis. 
Nekoosa,  Wis. 
Neligh,  Neb. 
Nelson,  111. 
Nenzel,  Neb. 
Neslikoro,  Wis. 
Nevada,  Iowa 
Newald,  Wis. 
New  .\ul)urn.  Wis. 
Newbold,  Wis. 
Newell,  S.D. 
New  London,  Wis. 
New  London  Jet.,  Wis. 
Newman  Grove,  Neb. 
Newport,  Neb. 
New  Richmond,  Wis. 
Newton,  Wis. 
New  Ulm,  Minn. 
Niekerson,  Neb. 
NicoUett,  Minn. 
Nieols,  ]Minn. 
Niobrara,  Neb. 
Nisland,  S.D. 
Node,  Wyo. 
Nora,  Neb. 
Norfolk,  Neb. 
Norma,  Wis. 


304 


APPENDIX 


Noniiandy,  111. 
Norrie,  Wis. 
North  .Vurora,  III. 
North  Branch,  Wis. 
North  Chicago,  111. 
Northfield,  111. 
North  Freedom,  Wis. 
North  Lake,  Wis. 
Northline,  Wis. 
North  Lowell,  Wis. 
Northrop,  IMiiiii. 
Northville,  S.D. 
Norwalk,  Wis. 
Norway,  Iowa 
Norway,  Mich. 
Norwood  Park,  111. 
Nowlin,  S.D. 

o 

Oak,  Neb. 
Oak  Center,  Wis. 
Oakdale,  Neb. 
Oakes,  N.D. 
Oakfield,  Wis. 
Oakland,  Neb. 
Oak  Park,  lU. 
Oconto,  Wis. 
Oconto  Falls,  Wis. 
Odanah,  Wis. 
Odebolt,  Iowa 
Odin,  Minn. 
Oelrichs,  S.D. 
Ogden,  Iowa 
Ojibwa,  Wis. 
Okee,  Wis. 
Omaha,  Neb. 
Onalaska,  Wis. 
Onawa,  Iowa 
O'Neill,  Neb. 
Onida,  S.D. 
Onslow,  Iowa 
Ontario,  Iowa 
Oostburg,  Wis. 
Opal,  Wis. 
Oral,  S.D. 


Orange  City,  Iowa 
Ordway,  S.D. 
Oregon,  Wis. 
Org,  Minn. 
Orin,  Wyo. 
Oshawa,  Minn. 
Oshkosh.  Wis. 
Osseo,  Wis. 
Ottawa,  Minn. 
Owanka,  S.D. 
Owasa.  Iowa 
Owatonna,  Minn. 
Oxford,  Wis. 


Padiis,  Wis. 
Palatine,  111. 
Palatka,  Mich. 
Panola,  jNlirli. 
Parker,  S.D. 
Parkersbiirg,  Iowa 
Parkerton,  Wyo. 
Park  Falls,  Wis. 
Park  Ridge,  lU. 
Parrish  Jet.,  Wis. 
Partridge,  Mich. 
Paullina,  Iowa 
Peratonica,  111. 
Peebles,  Wis. 
Pelican  Lake,  Wis. 
Pell  Lake.  Wis. 
Pender,  Neb. 
Pensankee,  Wis. 
Pentoga,  Mich. 
Peoria,  111. 
Peshtigo,  Wis. 
Petersbnrg,  Neb. 
Peterson,  Iowa 
Peterson  Ave.,  III. 
Petcrsville,  Iowa 
Phelps,  W'is. 
Philip,  S.D. 
Piedmont,  S.D. 
Pierce,  Neb. 
Pierre,  S.D. 


Pierson,  Iowa 
Pilger,  Neb. 
Pine  Creek,  Wis. 
Pine  Lake,  W'is. 
Pipestone,  Minn. 
Pisgah,  Iowa 
Plains,  Mich. 
Plainview,  Minn. 
Plainview,  Neb. 
Plattcviile,  Wis. 
Plum  Creek.  Iowa 
Plymo\ith,  Wis. 
Polar,  Wis. 
Polk  City,  Iowa 
Poplar  Grove,  III. 
Port  Edwards,  Wis. 
Porter,  Minn. 
Port  Washington,  Wis. 
Powder  River,  Wyo. 
Powell,  S.D. 
Powell,  Wis. 
Powers,  Mich. 
Pratt  Jet.,  Wis, 
Preston,  Wis. 
Price,  Wis. 
Princeton,  Wis. 
Proviso,  111. 
Pulaski,  Wis. 
Pulp,  Mich. 
Pureair,  Wis. 

Q 

Quarry,  Iowa 
Quinu,  S.D. 
Quinnesec,  Mich. 

R 

Racine,  Wis. 
Radcliffe,  Iowa 
Radisson,  Wis. 
Radnor,  III. 
Racville,  Neb. 
Ralston,  Iowa 
Ramsay,  Mich. 
Randall,  Iowa 


APPENDIX 


305 


Randolph,  Neb. 
Rapid  City,  S.D. 
Ravenswood,  Dl. 
Ravinia,  III. 
Rawson,  Wis. 
Raymond,  S.D. 
Redfield,  S.D. 
Red  Granite,  AYis. 
Redwater,  S.D. 
Redwood  Falls,  ^linn. 
Reedsburg,  Wis. 
Reedville,  Wis. 
Ree  Heights,  S.D. 
Renwick,  Iowa 
Revere,  Minn. 
Rewey,  Wis. 
Rhinelander,  Wis. 
Rice  Lake,  Wis. 
Richmond,  111. 
Ricketts,  Iowa 
Ridgefield,  111. 
Ridgetop,  Wis. 
Ridgeway,  Wis. 
Ridott,  III. 
Riley's,  Wis. 
Ringle,  Wis. 
Ringsted,  Iowa 
Ringwood,  HI. 
Ripon,  Wis. 
Ritter,  Iowa 
River  Falls,  W^is. 
Riverside,  S.D. 
River  Sioux,  Iowa 
Riverton,  Wyo. 
Roberts,  Wis. 
RocheUe,  111. 
Rochester,  Minn. 
Rock,  Mich. 
Rockfield,  Wis. 
Rockford,  lU. 
Rockham,  S.D. 
Rockland,  Wis. 
Rockmont,  Wis. 
Rodell,  Wis. 
Rogers  Park,  111. 


RoUe,  Iowa 
Rollo,  111. 
Roscoe,  El. 
Rose  Hill,  111. 
Rosendale,  Wis. 
Rosholt,  Wis. 
Ross,  Iowa 
Round  Grove,  HI. 
Rowena,  Minn. 
Roxby,  Wis. 
Rudolph,  S.D. 
Rufus,  Wis. 
Rushmore,  Minn. 
RushvLUe,  Neb. 
Rusk,  Wis. 
Rutland,  Iowa 


Sac  City,  Iowa 
St.  Charles,  Minn. 
St.  Charles,  S.D. 
St.  Cloud,  Wis. 
St.  James,  Minn. 
St.  Lawrence,  S.D. 
St.  Marie,  Wis. 
St.  Onge,  S.D. 
St.  Paul,  Minn. 
St.  Peter,  Minn. 
Salem,  S.D. 
SalLx,  Iowa 
Salmo,  Wis. 
Sanborn,  Minn. 
Sand  Rock,  Wis. 
Sands,  Mich. 
Sarona,  Wis. 
Sauntry,  Wis. 
Savage,  Minn. 
Sawyer,  Wis. 
Saxon,  Wis. 
Saylor,  Iowa 
Scarville,  Iowa 
Schaller,  Iowa 
Schleswig,  Iowa 
Scott  Lake,  Mich. 
Scranton,  Iowa 


Scribner,  Neb. 
Seaforth,  Mian. 
Secor,  Iowa 
Seeley,  Wis. 
Seneca,  S.D. 
Seney,  Iowa 
Sergeant  Bluff,  Iowa 
Seventh  St.  (Norfolk), 

Neb. 
Seward,  Neb. 
Shabbona  Grove,  111. 
Shaft  No.  2,  111. 
Shakopee,  Minn. 
Sharon,  Wis. 
Shawano,  Wis. 
Shawnee,  Wyo. 
Sheboygan,  AVis. 
Sheboygan  Falls,  Wis. 
Sheldahl,  Iowa 
Sheldon,  Iowa 
Shell  Lake,  Wis. 
Shennington,  Wis. 
Shepley,  Wis. 
Sheppard,  Wis. 
Shickley,  Neb. 
Sholes,  Neb. 
Shorewood,  Wis. 
Shoshoni,  Wyo. 
Sibley,  Iowa 
Sidemont,  Wis. 
Silica,  Wis. 
Sioux  City,  Iowa 
Sioux  Falls,  S.D. 
Sioux  Rapids,  Iowa 
Sioux  Valley  Jet.,  S.D. 
Skokie,  m. 
Slater,  Iowa 
Slaj-ton,  Muin. 
Sleepy  Eye,  Minn. 
Sloan,  Iowa 
Smith's  Mill,  Minn. 
Smithwick,  S.D. 
Snells,  Wis. 
Snyder,  Neb. 
Soldier,  Iowa 


30C 


A  P  P  K  N  D  I  X 


Solon  SpriiiRs,  Wis. 
Sopcrtoii,  Wis. 
Stiiitli  Heaver  Dam.  Wis. 
South  Kl^iri.  III. 
Soiitli  ISIiKvaukeo,  Wis. 
South  Omaha,  Neh. 
South  Oshkosh,  Wis. 
South  IVkin.  111. 
South  Ran.lolph,  Wis. 
South  Range,  Wis. 
South  Sioux  City,  Neb. 
Sparta,  Wis. 
Si.eer,  III. 
Spencer,  Neb. 
Spencer,  S.D. 
Split  Rock,  Wis. 
Spooner,  Wis. 
Spread  Eagle,  Wis. 
Spring  Brook,  Wis. 
Springfield,  Minn. 
Sjjring  Lake,  Wis. 
Spring  Valley.  111. 
Spring  Valley,  Wis. 
Staadts,  W' is. 
Stack,  Mich. 
Stafford,  Neb. 
Stager,  Mich. 
Stambaugh,  Mich. 
Stanhope,  Iowa 
Stanton,  Neb. 
Stanton,  Wis. 
Stan  wood,  Iowa 
State  Center,  Iowa 
Stephenson,  Mich. 
Sterling,  111. 
Stickley,  Mich. 
Stiles  Junction,  Wis. 
Stillwater,  Minn. 
Stilzer,  Wis. 
Stockton,  Minn. 
Storden,  Minn. 
Story  City,  Iowa 
Stout,  Iowa 
Stratford,  Iowa 
Stratford,  Wis. 


Strouds,  Wyo. 
Strum,  Wis. 
Stuart,  Neb. 
Sturgeon,  Mich. 
Sturgis,  S.D. 
Sugar  Bush,  Wis. 
Sullivan,  Wis. 
Summerdale,  111. 
Summit  Lake,  Wis. 
Sui)erior,  Neb. 
Su])erior,  Wis. 
Superior  East  End,  Wis 
Suriug,  Wis. 
Sussex,  Wis. 
Sutherland,  Iowa 
Swanzy,  Mich. 
Swedeburg,  Neb. 
Sweden,  Wis. 
Sweetwater,  111. 
Sycamore,  111. 
Sydney,  Wis. 
Syene,  Wis. 
Sylvan  Lake,  S.D. 

T 

Tama,  Iowa 
Tamarack,  Mich. 
Taunton,  Minn. 
Tekamah,  Neb. 
Terra  Cotta,  111. 
Teton,  S.D. 
Thacher,  Neb. 
Thor,  Iowa 
Thornton,  Wis. 
Three  Lakes.  Wis. 
Thurston,  Neb. 
Tigerton,  Wis. 
Tilden,  Neb. 
Tilford,  S.D. 
Tilton,  Iowa 
Tipler.  Wis. 
Tipton,  Iowa 
Tomahawk  Lake,  W'is. 
Townsend,  Wis. 
Tracy,  Minn. 


Traer,  Iowa 
Traverse,  Minn. 
Trego,  Wis. 
Trempealeau,  Wis. 
Triumph,  111. 
Tri\miph,  Minn. 
Trombly,  Mich. 
Troy  Grove,  IlL 
Truax,  Wis. 
Truman,  Miim. 
Tunnel,  Wis. 
Turin,  Iowa 
Turtle  Lake,  Wis. 
Turton,  S.D. 
Tuscobia,  Wis. 
Two  Rivers,  Wis. 
Tyler,  Minn. 
Tyran,  Wis. 
Tyson,  Neb. 

u 

Llao,  Wis. 
Underwood,  S.D. 
Union.  111. 
Union  Center,  Wis. 
Union  Grove,  111. 
Unityville,  S.D. 
Upton,  111. 
Ute,  Iowa 
Utica,  Minn. 


Vail,  Iowa 
Valentine,  Neb. 
Valley  Jet.,  Wis. 
Valley  Springs,  S.D. 
Vandyne,  Wis. 
Van  Metre,  S.D. 
Van  Petten,  111. 
Van  Tassell,  W'yo. 
Vayland,  S.D. 
Verdel,  Neb. 
Verdi,  Minn. 
Verdigre,  Neb. 
Verdon.  S.D. 


APPENDIX 


307 


Vernon  Center,  Minn. 
\'erona.  Wis. 
\  esi)er,  Wis. 
Vesta,  Minn. 
Vilas,  S.D. 
Villa  Park,  El. 
Viola,  Minn. 
Virden,  III. 
Volga,  S.D. 
Voorhies,  Iowa 
Vulcan,  Mich. 

W 

Wabasso,  Minn. 
Wabeno,  Wis. 
Wahoo,  Neb. 
Wakefield,  Mich. 
Wakefield,  Neb. 
Wakonda,  S.D. 
Wald,  Iowa 
Wales,  Wis. 
Wall,  S.D. 
Wallace,  Mich. 
Wall  Lake,  Iowa 
Walnut  Grove,  Minn. 
Wanda,  Minn. 
Warren,  Wis. 
Wascott,  W'is. 
W;iseca,  Minn. 
Washburn,  Wis. 
Washington,  Neb. 
Wasta,  S.D. 
Watersmeet,  Mich. 
Watertown,  S.D. 
Watertown,  Wis. 
Watkuis,  Io\\a 
Waucedah,  ^lich. 
Waukegan,  111. 
Waukesha,  Wis. 
Waunakee,  Wis. 
Wausa,  Neb. 
Wausau,  W'is. 


Wautonia,  Wis. 
Wayne,  111. 
Wayne,  Neb. 
Wayside,  Neb. 
Webster  City,  Iowa 
Weedens,  Wis. 
AVelcome,  Minn. 
Wellington,  Mich. 
Wendte,  S.D. 
Wessington,  S.D. 
West  AUis,  AA'is. 
West  Bend,  Wis. 
Westbrook.  Minn. 
West  Chicago.  111. 
West  Clinton,  Iowa 
West  Point,  Neb. 
West  Rosendale,  Wis. 
West  Salem,  Wis. 
West  Side,  Iowa 
What  Cheer.  Iowa 
Wlieatland,  Iowa 
Wheaton,  111. 
Wheelerwood,  Iowa 
White  Lake,  Wis. 
Whitelaw,  Wis. 
Whitewood,  S.D. 
Whiting,  Iowa 
Whitney,  Neb. 
Whitten,  Iowa 
Wilcox,  Wis. 
Wilder,  Miim. 
Wild  Rose,  Wis. 
Wildwood,  Wis. 
Williams  Bay,  Wis. 
Willow,  Wis. 
Wilniette,  111. 
Wilson,  Mich. 
Wilson,  Wis. 
Wilson  Ave.,  lU. 
Wilton,  Wis. 
Winde,  Mich. 


Windoni,  Minn. 
AVinfield,  111. 
Winnebago,  111. 
AA  inuebago,  !Minn. 
^^  innebago,  Wis. 
Winner,  S.D. 
Winnetka,  111. 
Winnetoon,  Neb. 
Winona,  Minn. 
Winside,  Neb. 
Winter,  Wis. 
Wintlu-op  Harbor,  111. 
Wisconsin  Rapids,  Wis. 
Wisner,  Neb. 
Witten,  S.D. 
Wittenberg,  Wis. 
Wolsey,  S.D. 
Womac,  111. 
Wonewoc,  Wis. 
Wood,  S.D. 
Woodbine,  Iowa 
Wood  Lake,  Neb. 
Woodruff,  Wis. 
Woodstock,  111. 
Woodstock,  Minn. 
Wood\ille,  Wis. 
Woolstock,  Iowa 
Worthing.  S.D. 
Worthington,  Minn. 
Wrightstown,  Wis. 
W\eville,  Wis. 


Yankton,  S.D. 
Yarnell,  Wis. 


Zachow,  Wis. 
Zaneta,  Iowa 
Zell,  S.D. 
Zion,  111. 


308 


APPENDIX 


CONSTRUCTION     OF 
OF    CHICAGO    AND 
R  A  I  L  ^^'  A  Y 


LINES     NOW     PART 
NORTH     WESTERN 
C  O  .M  P  A  N  Y 


Dale 

From 

To 

MOu 

1S48 

Chicago,  111. 

Ilarlcm,  111. 

10.00 

1849 

Harlem,  lU. 

Elgin,  111. 

33.00 

1852 

ElKin,  111. 

Rockford,  111. 

50.00 

1853 

Kockford,  111. 

Freeport,  111. 

28.00 

1S53 

Belviderc,  111. 

lieloit.  Wis. 

20.10 

1854 

Turner  Jet.,  111. 

Dixon,  111. 

68.00 

1854 

Chicago,  111. 

Gary,  111. 

38.50 

1854 

Minnesota  Jet.,  Wis. 

Fond  du  Lac,  Wis. 

29.00 

1854 

Elgin,  m. 

Genoa,  Wis. 

36.34 

1855 

Gary,  m. 

Janesville,  Wis. 

52.30 

1855 

Dixon,  lU. 

Fulton,  IlL 

39.00 

1855 

Ogden  Ave.,  Chicago 

Chicago  River,  Chicago 

2.75 

1855 

Chicago,  111. 

Wisconsin  state  line 

44.60 

1855 

Wisconsin  state  line 

Milwaukee,  Wis. 

40.40 

1856 

Chicago 

Turner  Jet.,  111. 

30.00 

1857 

CUnton,  Iowa 

Wheatland,  Iowa 

44.00 

1858 

Wheatland,  Iowa 

Lisbon,  Iowa 

20.00 

1859 

Janesville,  Wis. 

Minnesota  Jet.,  Wis." 

57.00 

1859 

Fond  du  Lac,  Wis. 

Oshkosh,  Wis. 

17.00 

1859 

Sheboygan,  Wis. 

Plymouth,  Wis. 

13.90 

1859 

Lisbon,  Iowa 

Cedar  Rapids,  Iowa 

17.30 

1859 

Cortland,  111. 

Sycamore,  III. 

4.64 

1860 

East  bank  of  Missis- 
sippi River,  111. 

Little  Rock  Island 

.88 

1860 

Beloit,  Wis. 

Magnolia,  Wis. 

17.00 

1860 

Plymouth,  Wis. 

Glenbeulah,  Wis. 

5.70 

1861 

Oshkosh,  Wis. 

Appleton,  Wis. 

20.00 

1801 

Kenosha,  Wis. 

RocWord,  111. 

72.10 

1861 

Cedar  Rapids,  Iowa 

Chelsea,  Iowa 

41.00 

1862 

Appleton,  WLs. 

Ft.  Howard,  Wis. 

28.40 

1862 

Chebea,  Iowa 

Marshitil,  Iowa 

29.00 

Constructed  by 
Galena    and    ChicaRo    Union 

Rail  Road  Company 
G  &  C  U  R.R.  Co. 
G  &  C  U  R.R.  Co. 
G  &  C  U  R.R.  Co. 
G  &  C  U  R.R.  Co. 
G  &  C  U  R.R.  Co. 
Illinois    and    Wisconsin    Rail 

Road  Company 
Rock     River     Valley     Union 

Railroad  Company 
Fox    River    Valley    Railroad 

Company 
Chicago,  St.  Paul  and  Fond 

du  Lac  Rail  Road  Company 
Galena    and    Chicago    Union 

Rail  Road  Company 
Chicago,     St.     Charlea     and 

Mississippi  Air  Line  Rail- 
road Company 
Chicago  and  Milwaukee  Rail- 
road Company 
Green   Bay,    Milwaukee   and 

Chicago   Rail   Road   Com- 
pany 
Galena   and    Chicago    Union 

Rail  Road  Company 
Chicago,  Iowa  and  Nebraska 

Rail  Road 
C  I  &  N  R.R. 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
C  &  N.  W.  Ry.  Co. 
Sheboygan    and     Mississippi 

Rail  Road  Company 
Chicago,  Iowa  and  Nebraska 

Rail  Road 
The  Sycamore  and  Cortland 

Rail  Road  Company 
The  Albany  Railroad  Bridge 

Company 
Beloit     and     Madison     Rail 

Road  Company 
SheboyKan    and     Mississippi 

Rail  Road  Company 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
Kenosha,  Rockford  and  Rock 

Island  Rail  Road  Company 
Cedar   Rapids   and   Missouri 

River  Railroad 
Cliicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
Cedar   Rapids   and   Missouri 

River  Railroad 


API 

'  E  N  D  I  X 

Date 

From 

To 

UOes 

1864 

So.  Branch  Jet., 
Chicago 

Ogden  Ave.,  Chicago 

1.75 

1864 

Escanaba,  Mich. 

Negaunee,  Mich. 

62.00 

1864 

Magnolia,  Wis. 

Madison,  Wis. 

31.80 

1864 

Marshall,  Iowa 

Nevada,  Iowa 

29.00 

1864 

Winona,  Minn. 

Rochester,  Minn. 

49.50 

1865 

Little  Rock  Island 

Chnton,  Iowa 

.22 

1865 

Nevada,  Iowa 

Boone,  Iowa 

23.00 

1867 

Boone,  Iowa 

Missouri  River,  Iowa 

149.60 

1867 

Rochester,  Minn. 

Waseca,  Minn. 

55.50 

1867 

Missouri  Valley,  Iowa 

California  Jet.,  Iowa 

5.84 

1867 

California  Jet.,  Iowa 

Sloan,  Iowa 

49.81 

1868 

Sloan,  Iowa 

Sioux  City,  Iowa 

20.00 

1868 

Glenbeulah,  Wis. 

Fond  du  Lac,  Wis. 

23.40 

1869 

California  Jet.,  Iowa 

Fremont,  Neb. 

31.77 

1869 

Fremont,  Neb. 

Maple  Creek,  Neb. 

10.00 

1870 

Negaunee,  Mich, 

Lake  Angeline,  Mich. 

4.58 

1870 

Various  branches  to  Michigan  mines 

42.27 

1870 

Winona  Jet.,  Wis. 

Winona,  Minn. 

29.00 

1870 

Clinton,  Iowa 

Lyons,  Iowa 

2.60 

1870 

Waseca,  Minn. 

Janesville,  Minn. 

11.00 

1870 

Mankato  Jet.,  Minn. 

Mankato,  Miim. 

3.75 

1870 

Maple  Creek,  Neb. 

West  Point,  Neb. 

25.03 

1871 

Janes\ille,  Minn. 

St.  Peter,  Minn. 

23.00 

1871 

Fort  Howard,  Wis. 

Marinette,  Wis. 

49.45 

1871 

Fond  du  Lac,  Wis. 

Princeton,  Wis. 

35.40 

1871 

Genoa,  Wis. 

Lake  Geneva,  Wis. 

8.70 

1871 

Geneva,  Dl. 

St.  Charles,  lU. 

2.40 

1871 

Lyons,  Iowa 

Anamosa,  Iowa 

70.97 

1871 

Manitowoc,  Wis. 

BrilUon,  Wis. 

21.30 

1871 

West  Point,  Neb. 

Wisner,  Neb. 

17.04 

309 

Constructed  by 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
The     Periinsula     Rail     Road 

Company  of  Michigan 
Beloit     and     Madison     Rail 

Road  Company 
Cedar   Rapids   and   Missouri 

River  Railroad 
Winona  and  Saint  Peter  Rail- 
road Company 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
Cedar   Rapids   and   Missouri 

River  Railroad 
C  R  &  M  R  R.R. 
Winona  and  Saint  Peter  Rail- 
road Company 
Cedar   Rapids   and   Missouri 

River  Railroad 
Sioux   City  and  Pacific   Rail 

Road  Company 
S  C  &  P  R.R.  Co. 
Sheboygan  and  Fond  du  Lac 

Rail  Road  Company 
Sioux   City  and  Pacific   Rail 

Road  Company 
Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri    VaUey     Rail     Road 
Company 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
La  Crosse,  Trempealeau  and 
Prescott  Railroad  Company 
Cedar   Rapids   and   Missouri 

River  Railroad 
Winona  and  St.   Peter  Rail- 
road Company 
Winona,   Mankato  and  New 

Ulm  Railway  Company 
Fremont,   Elkliorn  and  Mis- 
souri    Valley     Rail     Road 
Company 
Winona  and  St.  Peter  Rail- 
road Company 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
Sheboygan  and  Fond  du  Lac 

Rail  Road  Company 
The    State    Line   and    Union 

Railroad  Company 
The     St.     Charles     Railroad 

Company 
Iowa  Midland  Railway  Com- 
pany 
The      Appleton      and      New 
London  Railway  Company 
Fremont,   Elkhorn  and   Mis- 
souri    Valley     Rail     Road 
Company 


310 

Date 

From 

To 

MHe> 

1872 

Mal-ineltc,  Wis. 

Escanaba,  Mieh. 

04.ti5 

1872 

Chicago,  III. 

Montrose,  111. 

5.20 

1872 

Geneva,  111. 

Hatavia,  111. 

3.20 

1872 

Stanwood,  Iowa 

Tipton,  Iowa 

8.50 

1872 

Lake  Shore  Jet.,  Wis. 

Sheboygan,  Wis. 

48.50 

1872 

BrilUon,  Wis. 

One  mi.  cast  of  Appleton 

20.00 

1872 

St.  Peter,  Minn. 

New  Ulm,  Minn. 

30.00 

1873 

Madison,  WL'i. 

Winona  Jet.,  Wis. 

129.10 

1873 

Milwaukee,  Wis. 

Fond  du  Lac,  Wis. 

62.63 

1873 

Sheboygan,  Wis. 

Manitowoc,  Wis, 

25.20 

1873 

New  Ulm,  Minn. 

Watertown,  S.D. 

153.98 

1874 

Galena,  111. 

Platteville,  Wis. 

31.50 

1874 

Des  Moines,  Iowa 

Ames,  Iowa 

37.00 

1874 

Boone,  Iowa 

Coal  Banks,  Iowa 

3.25 

1874 

Manitowoc,  Wis. 

Two  Rivers,  Wis. 

6.35 

1874 

Appleton,  1  mi.  east 

Appleton,  Wig, 

1.00 

1876 

Appleton,  Wis. 

New  London,  Wis. 

19.90 

1877 

Powers,  Mich. 

Quinnesec,  Mich. 

24.71 

1877 

PhiUps  Corners,  Wis. 

Conley,  Wis. 

8.50 

1877 

Maple  River  Jet., 
Iowa 

Maplcton,  Iowa 

60.15 

1878 

Woodman,  Wis. 

Lancaster,  Wis. 

31.38 

1878 

Ames,  Iowa 

Callanan,  Iowa 

20.34 

1878 

New  London,  Wis. 

Chntonville,  Wis. 

16.20 

1878 

Sleepy  Eye,  Minn. 

Redwood  Falls,  Minn. 

24.40 

1878 

Rochester,  Minn. 

Zunibrota,  Minn. 

24.48 

1878 

Eyota,  Minn. 

Plainview,  Minn. 

15.01 

1878 

Eyota,  Minn. 

Chatfield,  Minn. 

11.46 

1879 

Extension 

Appleton,  Wis. 

3.63 

1879 

Danchff  Jet.,  Wis. 

Montfort,  Wis. 

13.50 

1879 

Wall  Lake,  Iowa 

Sac  City,  Iowa 

12.76 

1879 

Clintonville,  Wis. 

Tigerton,  Wis. 

18.60 

1879 

Hortonville,  WLs. 

Lee,  Wis. 

11.40 

APPENDIX 

Constructed  by 

Cliicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

C  <t  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

C  A  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

Stanwood  and  Tipton  Rail- 
way Company 

Milwaukee,  Manitowoc  and 
Green  Bay  Railroad  Com- 
pany 

The  Appleton  and  New  Lon- 
don Railway  Company 

Winona  and  St.  Peter  Rail- 
road Company 

Cliicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

Northwestern  Union  Railway 
Company 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railroad  Company 

Winona  and  St.  Peter  Rail- 
road Company 

Galena  and  Southern  Wiscon- 
sin Railroad  Company 

The  Des  Moines  and  Minne- 
sota Rail-Road  Company 

Iowa  Railway,  Coal  and 
Manufacturing  Company 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railroad  Company 

The  Appleton  and  New  Lon- 
don Railway  Company 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

Menominee  River  Railroad 
Company 

Galena  and  Southern  Wiscon- 
sin Railroad  Company 

The  Maple  River  Rail  Road 
Company 

Chicago  and  Tomah  Railroad 
Company 

The  Des  Moines  and  Minne- 
apolis Rail  Road  Company 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Sliore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

The  Minnesota  Valley  Rail- 
way Company 

The  Rochester  and  Northern 
Minnesota  Railway  Com- 
pany 

Plain  vie  wRail  Road  Company 

Chatfield  Rail  Road  Company 

Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

The  Chicago  and  Tomah 
Railroad  Company 

Sac  City  and  Wall  Lake 
Railroad  Co. 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 


APPENDIX 

311 

Date 

From 

To 

Maa 

Constructed  by 

1879 

Tracy,  Minn. 

S.  Dakota  line 

46.40 

Chicago  and  Dakota  Railway 
Company 

1879 

South  Dakota  line 

Volga,  S.D. 

24.51 

Dakota  Central  Railway 
Company 

1S79 

Wisner,  Neb. 

Oakdale,  Neb. 

58.56 

Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri Valley  Rail  Road 
Company 

1880 

Quinnesec,  Mich. 

State  hne,  Mich. 

6.37 

Menominee  River  Railroad 
Company 

1880 

State  line,  Wis. 

Florence,  Wis. 

11.00 

Menominee  Railway  Com- 
pany 

1880 

Janes\'ille,  Wis. 

Alton,  Wis. 

6.10 

Rock  River  Railway  Com- 
pany 

1880 

Montfort,  Wis. 

Conley,  Wis. 

8.00 

The  Chicago  and  Tomah  Rail- 
road Company 

1880 

Tama,  Iowa 

Toledo,  Iowa 

3.00 

The  Toledo  and  Northwestern 
Railway 

1880 

Toledo,  Iowa 

Webster  City,  Iowa 

80.39 

The  T  &  N  W  Ry. 

1880 

Tigerton,  Wis. 

Aniwa,  Wis. 

22.70 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

1880 

Lee,  Wis. 

Oshkosh,  Wis. 

11.70 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

1880 

Eland  Jet.,  Wis. 

Wausau,  Wis. 

23.87 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

1880 

Volga,  S.D. 

Pierre,  S.D. 

184.75 

Dakota  Central  Railway 
Company 

1880 

Oakdale,  Neb. 

NeHgh,  Neb. 

5.33 

Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri VaUey  Rail  Road 
Company 

1880 

Norfolk  Jet.,  Neb. 

Plainview,  Neb. 

31.76 

F  E  &  M  V  R.R.  Co. 

1881 

Madison,  Wis. 

Montfort,  Wis. 

60.84 

The  Chicago  and  Tomah 
Railroad  Company 

1881 

Carroll,  Iowa 

Kirkman,  Iowa 

34.81 

Iowa  South  Western  Railway 
Company 

1881 

Webster  City,  Iowa 

Eagle  Grove,  Iowa 

14.76 

The  Toledo  and  Northwestern 
Railway 

1881 

Eagle  Grove,  Iowa 

WiUow  Glen,  Iowa 

29.81 

The  T  &  N  W  Ry. 

1881 

Jewell  Jet.,  Iowa 

Stratford,  Iowa 

15.03 

The  T  &  N  W  Ry. 

1881 

Aniwa,  Wis. 

Summit  Lake,  Wis. 

26.42 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

1881 

Ordway  Jet.,  S.D. 

Ordway,  S.D. 

87.95 

Dakota  Central  Railway 
Company 

1881 

Plain\-iew,  Neb. 

Creighton,  Neb. 

10.30 

Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri VaUey  RaU  Road 
Company 

ISSl 

NeUgh,  Neb. 

Long  Pine,  Neb. 

97.64 

F  E  &  M  V  R.R, 

1882 

Florence,  Wis. 

Crystal  Falls,  Mich. 

16.69 

Menominee  River  Railroad 
Company 

1882 

Iron  River  Jet.,  Mich. 

Stambaugh,  Mich. 

19.50 

M  R  R.R.  Co. 

1882 

Various  branches  to  mi 

nes 

27.13 

M  R  R.R.  Co. 

1882 

Narenta,  Mich. 

MetropoHtan,  Mich. 

34.86 

Escanaba  and  Lake  Superior 
Railway  Company 

1882 

Various  branches  to  mi 

nes 

8.44 

E  &  L  S  Ry.  Co. 

1882 

Milwaukee,  Wis. 

Madison,  Wis. 

80.04 

Milwaukee  and  Madison  Rail- 
way Company 

1882 

Manning,  Iowa 

.\udubon,  Iowa 

17.00 

Iowa  South  Western  Railway 
Company 

1882 

Eagle  Grove,  Iowa 

Elmore,  Minn. 

66.41 

The  Toledo  and  Northwestern 
Railway 

1882 

Jewell  Jet.,  Iowa 

D  M  &  M  connection 

1.75 

The  T  ifc  N  W  Ry. 

1882 

Willow  Glen,  Iowa 

Hawarden,  Iowa 

115.39 

The  T  &  N  W  Ry. 

1882 

Stratford,  Iowa 

Lake  City,  Iowa 

43.27 

The  T  &  N  W  Ry. 

812 


APPENDIX 


Date 

From 

To 

Milet 

1882 

Summit  Lake,  Ww. 

Three  Ijikes,  Wis. 

28.80 

1882 

Monico,  Wis. 

Rhinclander,  Wis. 

15.70 

1882 

Antigo,  Wig. 

Bryant,  Wis. 

5.00 

1882 

Ordway,  8.D. 

Columbia,  S.D. 

6.47 

1882 

Wfttertown,  S.D. 

Kedfield,  S.D. 

71.00 

1882 

Long  Pine,  Neb. 

Thatcher,  .\eb. 

48.71 

1882 

Oconto,  Wis. 

Stiles  Jet.,  Wis. 

10.00 

1883 

Batavia,  lU. 

Aurora,  111. 

6.20 

1883 

Trempealeau,  Wis. 

GalcsviUe,  WLs. 

6.71 

1883 

Sac  City,  Iowa 

lungsley,  Iowa 

58.11 

1883 

Tliree  Lakes,  Wis. 

Michigan  state  line 

31.00 

1883 

Michigan  state  line 

Gogebic,  Mich. 

20.10 

1883 

Bryant,  Wis. 

East  Bryant  switch 

2.27 

1883 

Castlewood  Jet.,  S.D. 

Watertown,  S.D. 

43.83 

1883 

Iroquois,  S.D. 

Hawarden,  Iowa 

125.49 

1883 

Thatcher,  Neb. 

Valentine,  Neb. 

6.28 

1883 

Stiles  Jet.,  Wis. 

Oconto  Falls,  Wis. 

5.00 

1883 

California  Jet.,  Iowa 

Blair,  Nebr. 

3.36 

1884 

Belle  Plaine,  Iowa 

Muchakinoek,  Iowa 

60.36 

1884 

Gogebic,  Mich. 

Montreal  River,  Mich. 

40.79 

1884 

Eldora  Jet.,  Iowa 

Aldcn  Jet.,  Iowa 

20.40 

1884 

Necedah,  Wis. 

Wyeville,  Wis. 

10.06 

1884 

Oconto  Falls,  Wis. 

Clintonville,  Wis. 

41.00 

1885 

Belvidcrc,  111. 

Spring  Valley,  111. 

75.78 

1885 

Montreal  River,  Mich. 

Ashland,  Wis. 

30.62 

1885 

Centerville,  S.D. 

Yankton,  S.D. 

28.46 

1885 

Valentine,  Neb. 

Chadron,  Neb. 

136.27 

1885 

Chadron,  Neb. 

Buftalo  Gap,  S.D. 

55.79 

1886 

Winona  Jet.,  Wis. 

La  Crosse,  Wis. 

3.96 

1886 

Mapleton,  Iowa 

Onnwa,  Iowa 

20.70 

188G 

Janeaville,  Wis. 

Evanaville,  Wis. 

15.68 

1886 

Lake  City,  Iowa 

Wall  Lake  Jet.,  Iowa 

15.38 

ComtTUcted  by 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

Dakota  Central  Railway 
Company 

D  C  Ry.  Co. 

Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri Valley  Rail  Road 
Company 

St.  Paul  Eastern  Grand  Trunk 
Railway  Company 

Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

Galea  ville  and  Mississippi 
River  Rail  Road  Company 

The  Maple  River  Rail  Road 
Company 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

Dakota  Central  Railway 
Company 

D  C  Ry.  Co. 

Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri Valley  Rail  Road 
Company 

St.  Paul  Eastern  Grand  Trunk 
Railway  Company 

Missouri  Valley  and  Blair 
Railway  and  Bridge  Com- 
pany 

Ottumwa,  Cedar  Falls  and  St. 
Paul  Railway  Company 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

Chicago,  Iowa  and  Dakota 
Railway  Company 

Princeton  and  Western  Rail- 
way Company 

St.  Paul  Eastern  Grand 
Trunk  Railway  Company 

Northern  lUiuois  Railway 
Company 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

Dakota  Central  Railway 
Company 

Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri Valley  Rail  Road 
Company 

F  E  &  M  V  R.R.  Co. 

Cliicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

Maple  Valley  Railway  Com- 
pany 

JanesviUe  and  Evansville 
Railway  Company 

The  Toledo  and  Northwestern 
Railway 


APPENDIX 


313 


Date  From 

1886  Columbia.  S.D. 

886  Redfield,  S.D. 

886  Doland,  S.D. 

886  Buffalo  Gap,  S.D. 

886  Dakota  Jet.,  Neb. 

886  Fremont,  Neb. 

888  Scribner,  Neb. 

886  Wyoming  state  line 

887  Kingsley,  Iowa 

887  Cut  Off,  Iowa 

887  Iron  River,  Mich. 

887  Hurley,  Wis. 

887  Watersmeet,  Mich. 

887  Faulkton,  S.D. 

887  Verdon,  S.D. 

887  Lindsay,  Neb. 


887  Rapid  City,  S.D. 

887  Arlington,  Neb. 

887  Irvington,  Neb. 

887  Platte  River  Jet., 

Neb. 

887  Linwood,  Neb. 

887  Douglas,  Wye. 

888  Ishpeming,  Mich. 
888  Clowry,  Mich. 
888  Wabic,  Mich. 

888  Lake  Geneva,  Wis. 

888  Rhinelander,  Wis. 

888  Pratt  Jet.,  Wis. 
Geneva,  Neb. 


Faulkton,  S.D. 
Verdon,  S.D. 
Rapid  City,  S.D. 


Wyoming  state  line 
Lincoln,  Neb. 
Lindsay,  Neb. 
Douglas,  Wyo. 

Mo\'ille,  Iowa 

Cedar  Rapids,  Iowa 

Watersmeet,  Mich. 
Southwesterly 

Northerly 
Gettysburg,  S.D. 

Groton,  S.D. 
Oakdale,  Neb. 


Wliitewood,  S.D. 
Omaha,  Neb. 
So.  Omaha  Stockyards 
Hastings,  Neb. 

Geneva,  Neb. 
Glen  Rock,  Wyo. 

Republic,  Mich. 
Michigamme,  Mich. 
Champion,  Mich. 
WilUams  Bay,  Wig. 

Lake  Flambeau,  Wis. 

Westerly  (Wis.) 

Kansas  line.  Neb. 


888  Creighton,  Neb.  Verdigre,  Neb. 
88S  Glen  Rock,  Wyo.  Casper,  Wyo. 

889  Montrose,  lU.  North  Evanston,  III. 
889  Lake  Flambeau,  Wis.  Hurley,  Wis. 

889  Near  Pratt  Jet.,  Wis.  Westerly 

889  Jeffris  Jet.,  Wis.  Jeffris,  Wis. 

890  Buffalo  Gap,  S.D.  Hot  Springs,  SX). 


Whitewood,  S.D. 
Whitewood,  S.D. 


Deadwood,  S.D. 
BeUe  Fourche  (S.D.) 
Stockyards 


Miles  Constructed  by 

38.53  Dakota  Central  Railway 

Company 

32.54  DCRy.  Co. 
24 .  38       DC  Ry.  Co. 

48.11  Fremont,  Elkhoru  and  Mis- 
souri Valley  Rail  Road 
Company 

58.02      F  E  &  M  V  R.R.  (3o. 

52.11  FE&MVR.R.  Co. 
60.79       FE&MVR.R.  Co. 

76.79  Wyoming  Central  Railway 

Company 
9.00       Sioux   Valley  Railway  Com- 
pany 
5.96       T.inn  County  Railway  Com- 
pany 
35. 16       Iron  River  Railway  Company 
7.00       Milwaukee,   Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 
10.36       MLS&WRy.  Co. 
42.33       Dakota  Central  Railway 

Company 
14.46       DCRy.  Co. 

53.12  Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 

souri    Valley     Rail     Road 
Company 

36.43  FE&MVR.R.  Co. 
27.88  FE&MVR.R.  Co. 
10.26      FE&MVR.R.  Co. 

120.26      FE&MVR.  R.  Co. 

77.53      FE&MVR.R.  Co. 

28.97  Wyoming    Central     Railway 

Company 
21.96       Iron  Range  Railway  Company 

10.44  I  R  R.R. 
1.23       IRR.R. 

6.00  Lake  Geneva  and  State  Line 
Railway  Company 

26.80  Milwaukee    Lake   Shore   and 

Western  Railway  Company 
13.08       The     Wolf     and     Wisconsin 

Rivers  Railroad  Company 
46.61       Fremont,  Elkhorn  and   Mis- 
souri    Valley     Rail     Road 
Company 

11.98  FE&MVR.R.  Co. 
24.70       Wyoming    Central     Railway 

Company 
7 .  69       Junction  Railway  Company 
45.61       Milwaukee,   Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 
8.99      M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 
2.11       MLS&WRy.  Co. 
14.12       Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri    Valley     Rail     Road 
Company 
9.13      FE&MVR.  R.  Co. 
21 .  19      F  E  &  M  V  R.  R.  Co. 


.Tit 


APPENDIX 


Date 

From 

To 

MUa 

Constructed  by 

18'.)() 

I,ttdd,  111. 

Seatonville,  III. 

3.25 

The  DePue.  Ladd  and  East- 
ern Railroad  Company 

1890 

Rscanulia,  Mich. 

Loop  Line  Jet.,  Mich, 
(near  .\ntoine) 

51.12 

Escanaba,  Iron  Mountain  and 
Western  Railroad  Company 

1891 

Crystal  Falla.  Mich. 

Hemlock  Mine,  Mich. 

15.00 

Paint  River  Railway  Com- 
pany 

1891 

Near  WaUrsniect, 
Mich. 

Northerly 

12.70 

Milwaukee,  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

1891 

Deadwood,  .S.D. 

Ruby  Basin,  S.D. 

11.78 

Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri Valley  Rail  Road 
Company 

1891 

Portland  Jet.,  S.D. 

End  of  Tr.ick,  S.D. 

2.40 

F  E  &  M  V  R.R.  Co. 

1891 

Mine  branches 

Ruby  Baain,  S.D. 

2.55 

F  E  &  M  V  R.R.  Co. 

Mine  branches 

Portland  branch 

1.62 

F  E  &  M  V  R.R.  Co. 

1892 

Watersmeot,  Mich. 

Northerly 

2.. 56 

Milwaukee  Lake  Shore  and 
Western  Railway  Company 

1892 

Wausau,  Wbi. 

Marshfield,  Wis. 

40.  (X) 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

1892 

Mine  branches 

34.22 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

1892 

Mill  spurs 

13.32 

M  L  S  A  W  Ry.  Co. 

1892 

Hunting,  Wis. 

Big  Falls,  Wis. 

5.48 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

1892 

.^niwa,  Wis. 

Mattoon,  Wis. 

9.59 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

1892 

nUes  Jet.,  Wi.s. 

Hile.s,  WLs. 

9.12 

M  L  S  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

1897 

Northern  Jet.,  Wis. 

Wabeno,  Wis. 

46.11 

Wisconsin  Northern  Railway 
Company 

1899 

Wabeno,  Wis. 

Laona,  Wis. 

14.92 

Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

1899 

Burt,  Iowa 

Sanborn,  Minn. 

91.86 

Minnesota  and  Iowa  Railway 
Company 

1899 

Sanborn,  Minn. 

Vesta,  Minn. 

26.40 

M  &  I  Ry.  Co. 

1899 

Wall  Lake,  Iowa 

Denison,  Iowa 

24.80 

Boyer  Valley  Railway  Com- 
pany 

1899 

Boyer,  Iowa 

Mondamin.  Iowa 

61.30 

B  V  Ry.  Co, 

1899 

Kirkman,  Iowa 

Harlan,  Iowa 

6.30 

Harlan  and  Kirkman  Railway 
pany 

1899 

Blue  Earth,  Minn. 

Mason  City,  Iowa 

59.12 

Iowa,  Minnesota  and  North- 
western Railway  Company 

1900 

Mankato,  Minn. 

New  Ulm,  Minn. 

25.58 

Mankato  and  New  Ulm  Rail- 
way Company 

1900 

Tyler,  Minn. 

Astoria,  S.D. 

32.20 

Minnesota  and  South  Dakota 
Railway  Company 

1900 

Mason  City,  Iowa 

Belle  Plaine,  Iowa 

100.88 

Iowa,  Minnesota  and  North- 
western Railway  Company 

1900 

Blue  Earth,  Minn. 

Fox  Lake,  Minn. 

29.00 

I  M  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

1900 

Boone,  Iowa 

Ogden,  Iowa 

7.25 

Boone  County  Railway  Com- 
pany 

1901 

Stark,  Iowa 

Buxton,  Iowa 

21.55 

Southern  Iowa  Railway  Com- 
pany 

1901 

Princeton,  Wis. 

Marshfield,  Wis. 

85.69 

Princeton  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

1901 

RedGranite  Jet.,  Wis. 

Red  Granite,  Wis. 

7.85 

Princeton  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

1901 

Nekoosa  Jet.,  Wis. 

Nekoosa,  Wis. 

6.88 

Princeton  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

1901 

Nelson,  HI. 

Peoria,  111. 

82.98 

Peoria  and  North-Western 
Railway  Company 

1901 

Turtle,  Mich. 

Cisco  Lake,  Mich. 

5.74 

Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

1901 

Pelican,  Wis. 

Crandon,  Wis. 

17.84 

Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

1901 

Moville,  Iowa 

Sargent's  BlufTs,  Iowa 

20.00 

Moville  Extension  Railway 
Company 

APPENDIX 

Date 

Ftow, 

To 

Miles 

1901 

Honzicks  siding,  Wis. 

Ormsby,  Wis. 

•4.43 

1902 

Evan,  Minn. 

Marshall,  Minn, 

45.82 

1902 

GayviUe,  S.D. 

Lead  City,  S.D. 

2.92 

1902 

Verdigre,  Neb. 

Bonesteel,  S.D. 

69.40 

1903 

Eland  Jet.,  Wis. 

Rosholt,  Wis. 

19.74 

1903 

Jet.  north  of  .\ntigo, 

Wis. 
Mayfair,  lU. 

Casper,  Wis. 

16.62 

1903 

Lake  Bluff,  111. 

22.22 

1904 

Girard,  lU. 

Benld,  111. 

23.90 

1905 

Mercer,  Wis. 

Fosterville,  Wis. 

19.49 

1906 

Laona,  Wis. 

Saunders,  Mich. 

29.51 

1906 

Conover,  Wis. 

Hackley,  Wis. 

9.33 

1906 

East  Bryant  switch, 

Wis. 
Chicago  Northern  Jet. 

Elton,  Wis. 

9.01 

1906 

St.  Francis,  Wis. 

50.24 

1906 

Manitowoc,  Wis. 

Green  Bay,  Wis. 

36.25 

1906 

Duck  Creek,  Wis. 

Gillett,  Wis. 

29.74 

1906 

Casper,  Wyo. 

Shoshoni,  Wyo. 

102.40 

1906 

Fort  Pierre,  S.D. 

Phihp,  S.D. 

76.00 

1906 

Wasta,  S.D. 

Rapid  City,  S.D. 

45.00 

1907 

Marathon  City,  Wis. 

Rib  Falls,  Wis 

4.75 

1907 

Elton,  Wis. 

Wolf  River  VaUey,  Wis. 

6.60 

1907 

Bonesteel.  S.D. 

Gregory,  S.D. 

25.96 

1907 

Gregory,  S.D. 

DaUas,  S.D. 

4.49 

1907 

MiUbrig,  Wis. 

Hazel  Green,  Wis. 

2.70 

1907 

Pulaski,  Wis. 

Eland  Jet.,  Wis. 

47.69 

1907 

Wolf  River  Valley 
Jet.,  Wis. 

Van  Ostrand,  Wis. 

1.98 

1907 

Shoshoni,  Wyo. 

Lander,  Wyo. 

45.49 

1907 

PhiUp,  S.D. 

Wasta,  S.D. 

44.48 

1907 

Pierre,  S.D. 

Fort  Pierre,  S.D. 

1.82 

1908 

St.  Francis,  Wis. 

Bay  View,  Wis. 

2.38 

1908 

Bryant,  Wis. 

Polar,  Wis. 

3.24 

1910 

Dallas,  S.D. 

Coloine,  S.D. 

10.51 

1910 

Nachusa,  lU. 

Nelson,  111. 

12.76 

1910       Hinton  Jet.,  Iowa 


1910       Belle  Fourche,  S.D. 


Hawarden  Jet.,  Iowa 


315 

Constructed  by 

Northern  Woodland  Com- 
pany 

Minnesota  Western  Railway 
Company 

Fremont,  Elkhorn  and  Mis- 
souri Valley  Rail  Road 
Company 

F  E  &  M  V  R.R.  Co. 

Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

C  &  N  W  Ry,  Co. 

Chicago     Northern    Railway 

Company 
Macoupin    County    Railway 

Company 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  A  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

Milwaukee  and  State  Line 
Railway  Company 

Manitowoc,   Green   Bay  and 
North- Western  Railway 
Company 

M.  G  B  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

Wyoming  and  Northwestern 
Railway  Company 

Pierre,  Rapid  City  and  North- 
western Railway  Company 

P  R  C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

Manitowoc,    Green   Bay   and 
North- Western  Railway 
Company 

Wolf  River  Valley  Railway 
Company 

Wyoming  and  Northwestern 
Railway  Company 

Pierre,  Rapid  City  and  North- 
western Railway  Company 

Pierre  and  Fort  Pierre  Bridge 
Railway  Company 

Chicago  and  North  Western 
Railway  Company 

C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

Lee  County  Railway  Com- 
pany 

Sioux  City,  Dakota  and 
North  Western  Railway 
Company 

Belle  Fourche  VaUey  Railway 
Company 


316 


APPENDIX 


Dale 

From 

To 

Mile» 

1910 

Gettysburg,  S.D. 

Blunt,  S.D. 

39.55 

1911 

Colome,  S.D. 

Winner,  S.D. 

10.99 

1911 

Cut  oft  at  Easton, 
Wisconsin  division 

Lake  Shore  division 

1.02 

1911 

Lindwerm,  Wis. 

Necedah,  Wis. 

139.40 

1911 

Proviso  yard.  111. 

Wisconsin  division  Jet., 
111. 

10.50 

1912 

WyevUle,  Wis. 

Sparta,  Wis. 

23.02 

1912 

Norma,  111. 

VaUey,  lU. 

10.01 

1913 

Peoria,  111. 

Pekin,  111. 

13.19 

1914 

Pekin,  III. 

Girard,  111. 

77.55 

1914 

Junction  at  Koepe- 
nick.  Wis. 

Pearson,  Wis. 

8.74 

1914 

Benld,  111. 

Staunton,  111. 

4.36 

1915 

Buxton,  Iowa 

Miami,  Iowa 

0.63 

1915 

Miami,  Iowa 

Consol,  Iowa 

12.25 

1917 

Consol,  Iowa 

Westerly  (Iowa) 

1.52 

1919 

Pine  River  Jet.,  Wis. 

Northerly  (Wis.) 

6.09 

1922 

Extension  of  Heine- 

Northerly  and  westerly 

2.62 

mann  spur 

(Wis.) 

1925 

Beaton,  Mich. 

Northerly 

7.76 

1926 

Wakefield,  Mich. 

End  of  track 

4.20 

1926 

Gogebic,  Mich. 

End  of  track 

3.61 

1927 

Staunton,  111. 

De  Camp,  111. 

2.51 

1927 

Braden,  S.D. 

Vale,  S.D.  (beyond) 

12.13 

1927 

Redwater  Jet.,  S.D. 

JoUy,  S.  D. 

3.74 

1929 

Wiscona,  Wis. 

Fox  Point,  Wis. 

3.03 

1929 

Winner,  S.D. 

Wood,  S.D. 

33.71 

1930 

Gogebic,  Mich. 

End  of  track 

5.65 

1948 

Belle  Fourche,  S.  D. 
{Middle  Creek) 

Aladdin,  Wyo. 

18.20 

ConstrucUd  by 
James     River     VaUey     and 

North     Western     Railway 

Company 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 

Milwaukee,  Sparta  and  North 

Western  Railway  Company 

Des   Plainca   Valley   Railway 

Company 
Milwaukee,  Sparta  and  North 

Western  Railway  Company 
Des  Plaines  Valley   Railway 

Company 
St.  Louis,  Peoria  and  North 

Western  Railway  Company 
St.  Louis.  Peoria  and  North 

Western  Railway  Company 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
Macoupin  County  Extension 

Railway  Company 
ChicaKo  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
Iowa  Southern  Railway  Com- 
pany 
I  S  Ry.  Co. 

B.  Ueinemann  Lumber  Co. 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
Chicago  and  North  Western 

Railway  Company 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 
C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 


CONSTRUCTION     OF     LINES     NOW     PART     OF 

CHICAGO,     SAINT     PAUL,     MINNEAPOLIS 

AND    OMAHA    RAILWAY    COMPANY 

(PART     OF     CHICAGO      AND     NORTH     WESTERN 

SYSTEM) 


Date 

From 

To 

MCa 

Conatmcted  by 

1865 

Mendota,  Minn. 

Shakopee,  Minn. 

22.00 

Minnesota    Valley    Railroad 

Company 

1866 

Mendota,  Minn. 

St.  Paul,  Minn. 

6.00 

M  V  R.R.  Co. 

1866 

Shakopcc,  Minn. 

Belle  Plaine,  Minn 

18.40 

M  V  R.R.  Co. 

1867 

BeUe  Plaine,  Minn. 

Lc  Sueur,  Minn. 

15.80 

M  V  R.R.  Co. 

1868 

Warren,  Wis. 

Black  River  Falls, 

Wis. 

20.46 

West  Wisconsin  Railway 
Company 

APPENDIX 

Dale 

From 

To 

Mitea 

1868 

Le  Sueur,  Minn. 

Mankato,  Minn. 

22.00 

1869 

Mankato,  Minn. 

Lake  Crystal,  Minn. 

12.20 

1869 

Black  River  Falls, 
Wis. 

Augiista,  Wis. 

34.21 

1870 

Augusta,  Wis. 

Menomonie  Jet.,  Wis. 

47.84 

1870 

Lake  Crystal,  Minn. 

St.  James,  Minn. 

22.50 

1870 

Omaha,  Neb. 

Blair,  Neb. 

25.00 

1871 

Menomonie  Jet.  Wis. 

Hudson,  Wis. 

43.29 

1871 

North  Wis.  Jet.,  Wis. 

New  Richmond,  Wis. 

13.20 

1871 

St.  James,  Minn. 

58   miles    westerly    from 
St.  James 

58.00 

1871 

St.  Paul,  Minn. 

StUlwater  Jet.,  Minn. 

14.40 

1871 

Stillwater  Jet.,  Minn. 

Stillwater,  Minn. 

3.30 

1871 

Stillwater  Jet.,  Minn. 

St.  Croix  drawbridge, 
Minn. 

3,50 

1872 

Eh-oy,  Wis. 

Warren,  Wis. 

32.10 

1872 

58  miles  westerly  from 
St.  James,  Minn. 

Le  Mars,  Iowa 

64.59 

1872 

South  Stillwater 
switch.  Minn. 

South  Stillwater,  Minn. 

2.10 

1874 

New  Richmond,  Wis. 

Clayton,  Wis. 

24.40 

1876 

Sioux  FaUs  Jet., 
Minn. 

Luverne,  Minn. 

29.00 

1876 

Blair,  Neb. 

Tekamah,  Neb. 

17.01 

1877 

Luverne,  Minn. 

Beaver  Creek,  Minn. 

8.00 

1877 

Covington,  Neb. 

Coburn  Jet.,  Neb. 

9,53 

1877 

Coburn  Jet.,  Neb. 

Ponca,  Neb. 

16.33 

1878 

Hudson,  Wis. 

River  Falls,  Wis. 

11.70 

1878 

Clayton,  Wis. 

Cumberland,  Wis. 

17,20 

1878 

Beaver  Creek,  Minn. 

Sioux  Falls,  S.D. 

21,40 

1879 

Cumberland,  Wis. 

North  of  Chandler,  Wis. 

26.00 

1879 

Luverne,  Minn. 

State  line,  Minn. 

10.56 

1879 

State  hne,  Minn. 

Doon,  Iowa 

17.44 

1879 

Heron  Lake,  Minn. 

Woodstock,  Minn. 

44.20 

1879 

Tekamah,  Neb. 

Oakland,  Neb. 

15.76 

1880 

Merrillan,  Wis. 

Towards  NeillsviUe,  Wis. 

4.50 

1880 

North  of  Chandler, 
Wis. 

Cable,  Wis. 

38.20 

Constructed  by 

Minnesota  Valley  Railroad 
Company 

M  V  R.R.  Co. 

West  Wisconsin  Railway 
Company 

W  W  Ry.  Co. 

St.  Paul  and  Sioux  City  Rail- 
road Company 

Omaha  and  Northwestern 
Railroad  Company 

West  Wisconsin  Railway 
Company 

North  Wisconsin  Railway 
Company 

St.  Paul  and  Sioux  City  Rail- 
road Company 

The  St.  Paul,  Stillwater  and 
Taylors  Falls  Rail  Road 
Company 

St  P  S  &  T  F  R.R.  Co. 

St  P  S  &  T  F  R.R.  Co. 

West  Wisconsin  Railway 
Company 

St.  Paul  and  Sioux  City  Rail- 
road Company 

The  St.  Croix  Railway  and 
Improvement  Company 

North  Wisconsin  Railway 
Company 

Worthington  and  Sioux  Falls 
Railroad  Company 

Omaha  and  Northwestern 
Railroad  Company 

Worthington  and  Sioux  Falls 
Railroad  Company 

Covington,  Columbus  and 
Black  Hills  Railroad  Com- 
pany 

C  C  &  B  H  R.R.  Co. 

Hudson  and  River  Falls  Rail- 
way Company 

North  Wisconsin  Railway 
Company 

Worthington  and  Sioux  Falls 
Railroad  Company 

North  Wisconsin  Railway 
Company 

The  Worthington  and  Sioux 
Falls  Railroad  Company 
of  Iowa 

The  Worthington  and  Sioux 
Falls  Railroad  Company  of 
Iowa 

Minnesota  and  Black  Hills 
Railroad  Company 

Omaha  and  Northern  Ne- 
braska Railway  Company 

The  Black  River  Railroad 
Company 

Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 
apolis and  Omaha  Railway 
Company 


818 

Dale 


Front 

Sioux  Falls,  S.D. 


880      Lake  Crystal,  Minn. 


South  Stillwater, 
Minn. 

Missouri  River  trans- 
fer, Iowa 

Oakland,  Neb. 

Missouri  River  trans- 
fer. Neb. 
Eau  Claire,  Wis. 
Menomonie  Jet.,  Wis. 

Cable,  Wis. 


East  (4  H  miles)  of 

Merrillan,  Wis. 
Chippewa  Falls,  Wis. 

Emerson  Jet.,  Neb. 

North  (4  miles)  of 
Cable,  Wis. 

North  (9  miles)  of 

Superior  Jet. 

(Trego),  Wis. 
Bloomer,  Wis. 

North  of  Bear  Creek 

(Haugen),  Wis. 
Wayne,  Neb. 

From  connection  with 
main  Une  of  C  St  P 
M  &  O  R.R. 

North  of  Mason,  Wis. 


St.  Croix  drawbridge 


Coburn  Jet.,  Neb. 


Shaw's  Mills,  Wis. 


Towards  Bayfield,  Wis 

Towards  Superior,  Wis 
West  of  Neillsville,  Wi 
Bloomer,  Wis. 
Wayne,  Neb. 
North  of  Ma.son,  Wis. 


Ita 


■itch,  Wb 


South  of  Bear  Creek 
(Haugen),  Wis. 

Chicago  Jet.  (near 
Spooner),  Wis. 

Norfolk,  Neb. 

Cedar  Falls,  Wis. 


883       South  of  Bear  Creek       North  of  Bear  Creek 


(Haugen),  Wis. 
Eau  Claire,  Wis. 


Wakefield,  Neb. 


(Haugen),  Wis. 
Chippewa  Falls,  Wis. 


Hartington,  Neb. 


Ashland  Jet.,  Wis.  .\shland,  WL 

884      Spur  to  depot,  Chip- 
pewa Falls,  Wis. 


884       Woodstock,  Minn. 
,884      Ashland  Shore  Line  at 

Ashland,  Wis. 
884       Superior  Short  Line 

Jet.,  Wis. 
88-1       Superior  Street  line 
884       Connor's  Point  line 


West  Superior,  Wis. 


39.60 
43.43 
2.45 


APPENDIX 

Construcled  by 

St.  Paul  and  Sioux  City  Rail- 
road Company 

St.  Paul  and  Sioux  City  Rail- 
road Company 

St  P  &  S  C  R.R.  Co. 


.94      St  P  &  S  C  R.R.  Co. 

53.51       Sioux     City     and     Nebraska 
Railroad  Company 
1.31       SC&NR.R.  Co. 

2 .  74       Eau  Claire  Railway  Company 

3.01       The  Menomonie  Railway 
Company 

4.00  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 
apolis and  Omaha  Railway 
Ckimpany 

9.00      CStPM&  ORy.  Co. 

9.29      CStPMit  ORy.  Co. 

14 .  50  Chippewa  Falls  and  Northern 
Railway  Company 

18.70  Sioux  City  and  Nebraska 
Railroad  Company 

26.00  Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 
apolis and  Omaha  Railway 
Company 

51 .  63      C  St  P  M  &  O  Ry.  Co. 


37.00       Chippewa  F.ills  and  Northern 

Railway  Company 
13.13      CF&NR.R. 

27.80      Sioux    City    and     Nebraska 
Railroad  Company 
2.50      C^dar    Falls    and    Northern 
Railway  Company 


28.51 

Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 

apolis and  Omaha  Railway 

Company 

4.65 

Chippewa  Falls  and  Northern 

Railway  Company 

10.57 

The  Eau  Claire  and  Chippewa 

Falls  R.iilway  Company 

33.76 

Sioux     City     and     Nebraska 

Railroad  Company 

4.38 

Ashland  Railway  Company 

.77 

Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 

apolis and  Omaha  Railway 

Company 

10.90 

C  St  P  M  &  0  Ry.  Co. 

1.31 

Ashland  Railway  Company 

6.30 

Superior  Short  Line  Railway 

Company 

.58 

S  S  L  Ry.  Co. 

1.59 

SSL  Ry.  Co. 

APPENDIX 

Date 

Fro-.n 

To 

MCea 

ISSo 

River  Falls,  Wis. 

Ellsworth,  Wis. 

13.12 

1886 

Wajtie,  Neb. 

1  mile  north  of  Randolph, 
Neb. 

21.68 

1886 

Rice's  Point,  Duluth, 

St.  Paul  and  Duluth 

2.60 

Minn. 

Railroad  connection 

1887 

Salem,  S.D. 

Mitchell,  S.D. 

32.73 

1887 

West  of  Neillsville, 
Wis. 

Neillsville,  Wis. 

1.37 

1887 

Fairchild,  Wis. 

Osseo,  Wis. 

14.21 

1889 

Osseo,  Wis. 

Eleva,  Wis. 

12.89 

1890 

From  1  mile  north  of 
Randolph,  Neb. 

Bloomfield,  Neb. 

21.08 

1890 

Chicago  Jet.,  Wis. 

Spooner,  Wis. 

.89 

1S90 

Eleva,  Wis. 

Mondovi,  Wis. 

9.65 

1891 

Neillsville,  Wis. 

Marehfield,  Wis. 

23.51 

1891 

Bloomfield,  Neb. 

End  of  track 

.38 

1891 

Woodville,  Wis. 

A  point  about  3  miles 
south  of  Wildwood, 
Wis. 

8.00 

1892 

Emerald,  Wis. 

Woodville,  Wis. 

9.70 

1S92 

.\bout  3  miles  south  of 
WUdwood,  Wis. 

Spring  Valley,  Wis. 

2.38 

1893 

Ponca,  Neb. 

Newcastle,  Neb. 

10.62 

1899 

Madelia,  Minn. 

Fairmont,  Minn. 

29.38 

1899 

Bingham  Lake,  Minn. 

Jeffers,  Minn, 

13.90 

1900 

Jeffers,  Minn. 

Currie,  Minn. 

24.73 

1901 

Tuscobia,  Wis. 

Birchwood,  Wis. 

12.50 

1902 

Spring  Valley,  Wis. 

Weston,  Wis. 

16.29 

1902 

Birchwood.  Wis. 

Radisson,  Wis. 

23.50 

1902 

Chippewa  Falls,  Wis. 

Holcombe,  Wis. 

27.70 

1903 

Holcombe,  Wis. 

Hughey,  Wis. 

21.58 

1904 

Radisson,  Wis. 

Winter,  Wis. 

10.00 

1906 

Winter,  Wis. 

Draper,  Wis. 

10.00 

1906 

Extension   of   Elmore 
(Minn.)  Une 

.26 

1906 

CUff,  Minn. 

St.  Paul  Jet.,  Minn. 

1.02 

319 

Constructed  by 

Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 
apolis and  Omaha  Railway 
Company 

North-Eastern  Nebraska 
Railroad  Company 

Superior  Short  Line  Railway 
Company  of  Minnesota 

Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 
apolis and  Omaha  Railway 
Company 

Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 
apolis and  Omaha  Railway 
Company 

Sault  Ste.  Marie  and  South- 
western Railway  Company 

S  Ste  M  &  S  W  Ry.  Co. 

Randolph  and  Northeastern 
Nebraska  Railroad  Com- 
pany 

Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 
apohs  and  Omaha  Railway 
Company 

Sault  Ste.  Marie  and  South- 
western Railway  Company 

Chicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 
apolis and  Omaha  Railway 
Company 

C  St  P  M  &  O  Ry.  Co. 

Woodv-ille  and  Southern  Rail- 
way Company 

Minnesota      and      Wisconsin 

Railway  Company 
M  &  W  Ry.  Co. 

Cliicago,  Saint  Paul,  Minne- 
apolis and  Omaha  Railway 
Company 

Watonwan  Valley  Railway 
Company 

Des  Moines  Valley  Railway 
Company  of  Minnesota 

D  M  V  Ry,  Co.  of  Minn. 

Chippewa  Valley  and  North- 
western Railway  Company 

Minnesota  and  Wisconsin 
Railroad  Company 

Chippewa  Valley  and  North- 
western Railway  Company 

Eau  Claire,  Chippewa  Falls 
and  Northeastern  Railway 
Company 

E  C  C  F  &  N  E  Ry.  Co. 

Chippewa  Valley  and  North- 
western Railway  Company 

Cliicago,  Saint  Paul, -Minne- 
apolis and  Omaha  Railway 
Company 

C  St  P  M  &  O  Ry.  Co. 

C  St  P  M  &  O  Ry.  Co. 


320 

APPENDIX 

Date 

From 

To 

MOa 

Constructed  by 

1006 

HartinEton,  Neb. 

Crotton,  Neb. 

15.38 

C  St  P  M  &  0  Ry.  Co. 

1907 

NewcMtle,  Nob. 

Wynot,  Neb. 

18.44 

C  St  P  M  &  0  Ry.  Co. 

1908 

Draper,  Wis. 

Kennedy,  Wis. 

9.33 

C  St  P  M  &  0  Ry.  Co. 

1910 

Kennedy,  Wis. 

Kaiser,  Wis. 

4.93 

C  St  P  M  &  0  Ry.  Co. 

1914 

Kaiser,  Wis. 

Park  Falls,  Wis. 

5.99 

C  St  P  M  &  0  Ry.  Co. 

lograpnij 


Andreas,  A.  T.:  Andreas'  Eutory  of  Chicago,  R.  R.  Donnelley  &  Sons,  Chicago. 

Angle,  Paul:  The  Great  Chicago  Fire,  Valentine-Newman,  Chicago. 

C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co.  Museum,  An  Account  of  Railroading  in  the  Minnesota  Valley. 

Carr,  Clark  E.:  The  Railway  Mail  Service,  A.  C.  McClurg  &  Company,  Chicago. 

Chicago  Tribune  newspaper  files. 

Corliss,  Carlton  J.:  "The  Story  of  Marvin  Hughitt,"  Illinois  Central  Magazine. 

Derleth,  August:  The  Milwaukee  Road,  Creative  Age  Press,  Inc.,  N.  Y. 

Kingsbury,  G.  AV'.:  History  of  Dakota  Territory,  privately  printed  by  Mr.  Kings- 
bury at  Yankton,  S.  D. 

Minnesota  Handbook  for  1856. 

Minnesota  Historical  Society  Collections. 

Minnesota  Historical  Society,  Minnesota  Farmers'  Dairies,  10,J9. 

Petersen,  W.  J.:  The  Northwestern  Comes,  The  Palimpsest  (Iowa  Historical 
Soc). 

Pullman  Company  Records. 

Reynolds'  History  of  Illinois. 

Riegel,  Robert:  The  Story  of  the  Western  Railroads,  The  Macmillan  Company, 
New  York. 

Robinson,  Doane:  Encyclopedia  of  South  Dakota,  published  by  State  of  South 
Dakota  at  Pierre,  S.  D. 

Smith,  G.  M.:  South  Dakota,  Its  History  and  People,  S.  J.  Clarke  Publishing 
Company,  Chicago. 

Stennett,  W.  H.:  Yesterday  f  Today,  published  by  C  &  N  W  Ry.  Co. 


321 


I 


(2yndea: 


B 


Aberdeen,  S.D.,  173 

Aberdeen  'News,  182 

Adams,  W.  H.,  22 

Afton,  Wis.,  274. 

Agar,  Adam,  192,  195 

Agassiz,  Jean  Louis,  69,  70 

Aishton,  Richard  H.,  24-8 

Albany,  N.Y.,  3,  4,  6,  9,  11,  12,  14,  19, 

20,  13G 
Albany,  Wis.,  274 
Alcester,  S.D.,  273,  274 
Alexandria,  S.D.,  174 
Alliance,  Neb.,  207 
American  Fur  Trading  Co.,  96 
American  Land  Co.,  16,  30 
Andreas,  A.  T.,  113 
Angle,  Paul   (Chicago  Fire  historian), 

132 
Appleton,  Wis.,  81,  154,  220 
Argyle,  111.,  274 
Armstrong,  George  B.,  117-120 
Arnold,  Isaac  N.,  10,  31,  47,  52,  53,  128 
Arnot,   Marianna    (Mrs.   Wm.   B.   Og- 

den),   133 
Ashland,  Wis.,  220 
Ashley,  Ossian  D.,  80 
Astor,  John  Jacob,  96 
Atlantic,  Iowa,  199 
Atlantic  Coast  Line  R.R.,  135 
Auburn,  N.Y.,  136 
Auburn,  Wis.,  274 
Aurora   Branch  R.R.,  61 
Aurora,  111.,  277 
Austin,  111.,  65 
Avignon,  France,  99 
Avondale,  111.,  274 


Babcock's  Grove,  111.,  72,  74 

Bad  Axe,  Battle  of,  40 

Bad  Lands,  165,  169,  228,  236,  239,  244, 

273 
Baden,  Germany,  229 
Baer,  Ben,  170 
Bain,  John,  162 
Baird,  Billy,  170 
Baldwin  Locomotive  Co.,  58 
Ballard,  C.  A.,  22 
Baltimore,  Md.,  15 
Baltimore  &  Ohio  R.R.,  13,  14,  261 
Baltimore  American,  39 
Banff,   Canada,   285 
Bangor,  Wis.,  274 
Baraboo  Air  Line  R.R.,  160 
Barnes,  Judge  John  P.,  257,  259 
Barney,  D.  N.,  and  Co.,  150 
Bartholomew,  G.  M.,  81 
Bates,  John,  31 
Bayfield,  Wis.,   153,  274 
Beaubien,  J.  B.,  22 
Beaubien,  Madore,  22 
Beaubien,  Mark,  22,  28,  29,  36 
Beauregard,  Gen.  Pierre  G.,  135,  136 
Belden,  N.J.,  162 
Bellamy,  Paul,  241 

Belle  Fourche,  S.D.,  228,  232,  245,  246 
Belle  Plaine,  Iowa,  109 
Beloit,  Iowa,  162,  163 
Beloit  &  Madison  R.R.,  123 
Beloit,  Wis.,  62,  73-75,  78,  122,  228 
Belvidere,  lU.,  61,  73,  74,  122 
Beresford,  Adm.  Lord  Charles,  273 
Beresford,  S.D.,  273,  274 
Bessemer  steel  mill,  Wyandotte,  Mich., 

143 


323 


321 


Bigelow,  Minn.,  172 

Big  Sioux  County,  S.D.,  157 

Big  Suamico,  Wis.,  221 

Bishop,  Gen.  J.  W.,  109 

Bismurck,  S.D.,  167,  168,  173,  174 

Black  Huwk  War,  1.5,  40,  41 

Black  Hills,  151,  165-167,  169,  170,  175, 

224,  227,  228,  230,  232-234,  236,  239- 

244,  246,   285,   286 
Blair,  D.  C,  162 

Blair,  John   I.,   123-126,   159,   162-164 
Blair,  Montgomery  (Postmaster  Gen.), 

118,   120 
Blair,  Neb.,  145 
Blairstown,  N.J.,  123,  162 
Blizzard  Club,  199 
Blodgctt,  Judge  Henry  W.,  71,  128 
Bloomington,  111.,  188 
Bonestecl,  S.D.,  235,  236 
Boone,  Iowa,  119,  191,  192,  194,  224 
Boonesboro,  Iowa,  123 
Booth,  John  Wilkes,  188 
Booth,  William  A.,  80 
Borglum,  Gutzon,  2,33,  240,  243 
Boscobel  (Ogden's  country  estate),  129, 

132 
Boston,  Ma.ss.,  24,  70 
Bottineau,  Pierre  (legendary),  96 
Bramhall,  S.D.,  274 
Brampton,  Mich.,  273 
Brennan,  Mayor  John  R.,  233,  239 
Bronson,  Arthur,  16,  53 
Bronson,  George,  15,  31 
Brookings,  S.D.,  238 
Brooks,  James,  271 
Broughton,  F.  S.  D.,  233 
Brown,  Walston  H.,  151 
Brown,  William  H.,  51,  71,  121 
Bryan,  William  Jennings,  222 
Buchanan,  James,  116 
Buckner,  Morris,  36 
Buell,  CJen.  Don  Carlos,  135 
Buffalo,  N.Y.,  18,  20,  21,  27,  34,  35 
Buffalo  Gap,  S.D.,  169,  170,  244 
Bulow,  Gov.  William  J.,  233 
Bunyan,  Paul  (legendary),  96 
Butler,  Benjamin,  12,  16,  19 
Butler,  Charles,  11-18,  20,  23,  31,  32,  34, 

53,  63,  71,  79,  81 


Butler  family,  6-7 
Buxton,  Neb.,  274 


Cable,  R.R.,  153 

Cairo,  111.,  117,  136 

Calamity  June,  240 

Caledonia,  111.,  273 

Calhoun,  George,  29 

California  Junction,  Iowa,  145 

Camden  &  Amboy  R.R.,  271 

Campbell,  Henry  R.,  271 

Canadian   Pacific   R.R.,  135 

Canton,  S.D.,  162 

Carnarvon,   Iowa,  273 

Carpenter,  Philo,  22 

Carver,  David,  22 

Cary,  111.,  79,  80 

Casey,  John,  209,  210 

Casper,  Wyo.,  126,  224,  232,  238,  239 

Caton,  Judge  John  D.,  136 

Cedar  Rapids,  Iowa,  69,  124,  125,  145 

Cedar  Rapids  &  Missouri  River  R.R., 
123,  125,   126,  145 

Central  City,  S.D.,  169 

Central  Pacific  R.R.,  116,  282 

Centralia,  III.,  136,  137 

Century  of  Progress  Exposition,  256 

Ceres,   goddess   of  harvest,   99 

Chadron,  Neb.,  169,  170,  207,  232,  244 

Chamberlain,  S.D.,  165,  173,  174,  176, 
236,  237 

Chapman,  George,  22 

Chatfield,  Minn.,  209,  210 

Chatfield  R.R.,  144 

Cherry  Valley,  111.,  73,  277 

Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  168,  236,  244 

Chicago,  111.,  14-18,  20-25,  27,  28,  30-44, 
47-49,  51-57,  59-75,  79-82,  87,  88,  92, 
100,  102,  104,  113,  115,  117-119,  122- 
129,  131,  132,  136,  142,  1.52,  154,  158, 
160,  161,  168,  180,  181,  187,  188,  197, 
211,  217-221,  224-228,  230,  243,  246, 
251,  253,  257,  269,  270,  273,  274,  277- 
282,  284-286 

Chicago  &   Alton   R.R.,   136,  188 

Chicago,  Burlington  &  Quincy  R.R.,  61, 
76 


325 


Chicago  Daily  Journal,  59 

Chicago  &  Dakota  R'y,  144. 

Chicago  Democrat,  29 

Chicago  &  Eastern  Indiana  R.R.,  260- 

262 
Chicago  Fire,  30,  36,  44,  65,  66,  130,  131, 

160,  269 
Chicago,  Fulton  &  Iowa  Line,  74,  75 
Chicago   Historical    Society,   10,   37,   52 
Chicago,   Iowa   &    Nebraska   R.R.,   72, 

123,   124,   126,   145 
Chicago   &  MUwaukee   R.R.,   127,   I2S, 

144 
Chicago,  Milwaukee  &  North  Western 

R'y,  144,  145,  162-164 
Chicago,    Milwaukee    &    St.    Paul    R'y, 
133,  134,  137,  139,  161,  172,  179,  234, 
236 
Chicago,  St.  Paul  &  Fond  du  Lac  R.R., 

76,  79 
Chicago,   St.   Paul   &   Minneapolis   R'y, 

151,  152 
Chicago,    Saint    Paul,    Minneapolis    & 
Omaha  R.R.   (The  Omaha),  100,  103, 
109,   137,   145,  149,   152-154,   162,   172, 
211,  231,  254,  256,  274 
Chicago  &  Tomah  R.R.,  144 
Chicago  Tribune,  117 
Chicago,  University  of,  37 
Chicago   World's   Fair    (1893   &    1933), 

59,  221 
Chippewa  Indians,  15,  97 
Chouteau,  August,  6 
Chouteau,  Pierre,  155,  231 
Churchill,  Randolph,  274 
Cincinnati,  Ohio,  13,  38 
Civil   War,   69,  85,   88-90,  94,   100,   104, 

113,  115,  117,  1.31,  135,  157 
Clark,  S.D.,  202-204 

Clark,  Lt.  William    (explorer),  70,  231 
Cleveland,  Ohio,  27 
Clinton,  DeWitt,  7 
Clinton,  Iowa,  72,  118,  124,  145,  150 
Clintonville,  Wis.,  220 
Clybourne,  Archie,  29 
Clybourn  Junction,  111.,  277 
Cobden,  Minn.,  273 

Cody,  William   F.    (Buffalo   Bill),  233 
Cole.  William,  205 


Coleridge,  Wis.,  274 
Collins,  James  H.,  32,  52,  62 
Conway,  Barret,   137 
Cooke,  Jay,  &  Co.,  160 
Coolidge,  Calvin,  233,  241-243 
Cordova,  Neb.,  199 
Corinth,  Miss.,  135 
Corning,  Erastus,  54 
Cottage  Hill,  111.,  73,  276,  285 
Council  Bluffs,  Iowa,  66,  117,  119,  124- 
126,  139,  145,  224,  227,  231,  280,  284 
Courtney,  A.  C,  81 
Credit  Landing,  Minn.,  108 
Creighton,  Neb.,  145 
Crouch,  C.  D.,  233 
Crystal  Falls,  Mich.,  143,  219 
Cumberland,  Md.,  24 
Custer,  S.D.,   167,  168 
Custer,  Gen.  George  A.,  167,  230,  231 
Custer  Park,  S.D.,  241,  243 


D 


Dakota  Central  R.R.,  145,  161,  217,  219 

Dakota  Southern  R.R.,  159,  162,  168 

Dallas,  S.D.,  236 

Danby,  111.,  74 

Darling,  Enoch,  22 

Darling,  Grace,  193 

Darling,  M.  C,  81 

Davis,  W.  N.,  52 

Deadwood,  S.D.,  168-170,  211,  231,  232, 

234,  239,  244 
Dearborn,  Ned  H.,  283 
Dearborn,  Fort,  15,  27 
Deere,  John,  55 
Deering,  111.,  212 
Denver,  Colo.,  257,  285 
Depew,  Chauncey,  216 
Derby,  Minn.,  274 

Des  Moines,  Iowa,  71,  124,  126,  154,  227 
Dcs   Moines   &   Minneapolis   R.R.,    126, 

146 
Des  Moines  &  Minnesota  R.R.,  126,  195 
De  Smet,  S.D.,  202 
Detroit,  Iowa,   163 
Detroit,   Mich.,   15,  27,  57,  143 
Diamond  A  Ranch,  244,  246 
Dickinson  Hotel,  127 


326 


DixDii,  111.,  12,  55,  Gl,  02,  66,  67,  73,  87, 

122 
Dixon  Air  Line,  122 
Dixon  &  Central  Iowa  R.R.,  GG 
Doland,  S.D.,  200-202 
Dole,  George  W.,  19-23,  27-29,  63,  71 
Donnelly,  Ignatius,  229 
Donohuc,  Pat,  192 
Douglas,  Stephen  A.,  60,  87 
Douglas,  Wyo.,  232 
Dows,  David,  151,  153 
Drake,  E.   F.,   108,   109 
Driscoll,  Robert  H.,  169,  170 
Drummond,  Thomas,  49,  51-53 
Duliuque,  Iowa,  32,  62,  187,  197 
Duluth,  Minn.,  71,  86,  151,  228,  285 
Dundee,  III.,  273 
Dyer,  Thomas,  52 
Dyer,  Dr.  Volmy,  127 


E 


East  Fork,  111.,  38 

East  St.  Louis,  111.,  224 

Ebbert,  John,  59 

Eland,  Wis.,  220 

Elgin,  III.,  47-49,  5G,  GO,  73,  74,  122,  227 

Elgin  &  State  Line  U.K.,  75,  122,  144, 

145 
Elroy,  Wis.,  151,  153 
Erie  Canal,  7,  14 
Erie  Canal  (steamship),  36 
Erie,  Pa.,  19 
Escanaba,  Mich.,  143 
Escanaba   &   Lake   Superior   R'y,   143, 

145 
Esmond,  S.  D.,  273 
Eton,  Minn.,  274 
Evanston,  111.,  277,  278 
Exeter,  Iowa,  273 
Eyota,  Minn.,  209,  210 


Ferguson,  Lew,  278 

Ferry,  W.  H.,  153 

Field,  Benjamin,  187 

Field,  Norman,  187 

Fink,  Mike   (legendary),  231 


Florence,  Wis.,  143 

Flower,  K.  P.,  153 

Fond  du  Lac,  Wis.,  79,  80 

Fond  du  Lac  R.R.,  80 

Fordham  Heights,  N.Y.,  129 

Fort  Atkinson,  Wis.,  78 

Fort  Howard  (Green  Bay),  Wis.,  81 

Fort  Niobrara,  Neb.,  145 

Fort  Pierre,  S.D.,  1.50,  168,  231 

Fort  Pierre  Fair  Play,  182 

Fort   Snelling,  98 

Four  Hundred,  The,  257,  263,  279,  281, 

282,  284 
Fox  Indians,  15,  40 
Fox  River  Valley  R.R.,  75 
Frankfort,  S.D.,  200 
Free]K)rt,  111.,  42,  43,  G4,  66,  71,  73,  74, 

87,  122,  187 
Fremont,  Neb.,  126,  139,  145,  169,  224 
Fremont,   Elkhorn   &   Missouri   Valley 

R.R.,  126,  137,  145,  169,  217-219,  224, 

232,  235,  238,  245,  246 
Fulton,  111.,  42,  61,  66,  67,  73-75,  122 


G 


Gale,  Stephen,  22 

Galena,  III.,  24,  25,  32,  38-43,  48,  49,  51- 
55,  62,  64,  66,  114,  122 

Galena  &  Chicago  Union  R.R.,  32,  37, 
40,  41,  44,  47,  49,  51,  55-GS,  71-73,  75, 
78,  85,  87,  115,  116,  121-124,  126,  129, 
140,  144,  15.3,  187,  188,  215,  222,  238, 
270,  271,  273,  276,  285 

Galtier,  Father  Lucian,  96 

Gardner,  William  A.,  248 

Garrett,  Mayor  Augustus,  47 

Genesee  Valley  Canal,  63 

Geneva,  III.,  122 

Geneva,  Neb.,  199 

Geneva,  N.Y.,  16 

Ghent,  Treaty  of,  96 

Gilbert,  James,  22 

Gilctte,  Earl,  211 

Gladstone,  Mich.,  273 

Gladstone,  W.  E.  (British  Prime  Min- 
ister), 273 

Goldacker,  Caroline,  211,  212 

Goldsmith,  Oliver.  274 


Goodhue,  Josiali  C,  32 

Gorman,  Gov.  W.  A.,  101 

Gould,  Jay,  123,  216 

Grange,  The,  140-142 

Grant,  Gen.  Ulysses  S.,  114,  115,  136 

Great  Northern  R'y,  101,  139 

Greeley,  Horace,  5 

Green  Bay,  Wis.,  69,  81,  82,  123 

Green  Bay,  Milwaukee  &  Chicago  R.R., 

127 
Grignon  family,  81,  82 
Guernsey,  Iowa,  274 


H 


327 

Hudson  &  River  Falls  R.R.,  152 

Hudson  River  R.R.,  5.5 

Hughitt,  Marvin,  134-139,  143,  161,  215- 

222,  236,  237,  248,  249 
Hughitt,  Marvin  Jr.,  237,  243 
Hugunin,  Capt.  Hiram,  127 
Humbird,  Jacob,  153 
Humbird,  John  A.,  153 
Huntington,  CoUis  P.,  135 
Huntley,  111.,  73 
Hurley,  Wis.,  220 
Huron,  S.D.,  173-176,  199,  242 
Hutchins,  E.  W.,  81 


Hale,  William,  24,  25,  30,  31,  35 
Hall,  Eugene  J.,  198 
Halleck,  Gen.  Henry  W.,  135,  136 
Hallowell,  Maine,  36 
Hamilton,  R.  J.,  22 
Hapsgood,  Dexter,  22 
Harlem,  III.,  73-75,  122 
Harriman,  E.  H.,  139 
Harrison,  AVis.,  220 
Hartington,  Neb.,  274 
Hastings,  Neb.,  224 
Havana,  111.,  198 
Hawarden,  Iowa,  273,  274 
Hayes,  Samuel  S.,  113 
Healy,  George  P.  A.,  10 
Hearst,  Phoebe,  232 
Hemlock  Mine,  219 
Hempstead,  C.  M.,  53 
Hempstead,  C.  S.,  52 
Henderson,  Minn.,  107 
Hennepin,  Louis,  38 
Heron  Lake,  Minn.,  151 
Hickok,  Wild  Bill,  231,  240 
Hill,  James  J.,  135 
Hogan,  John,  22,  29 
Homestead  Act,  116 
Honey  Creek,  Iowa,  191,  192,  198 
Hoover,  Herbert,  252 
Hot  Springs,  S.D.,  179 
Houghton,  Douglass,  230 
Howe,  Francis,  51 
Hubbard,  Elijah  Kent,  50,  62 
Hubbard,  Grayson,  29 
Hudson,  Wis.,  153 


Illinois  Central  R.R.,  41,  60,  64,  66,  75, 

13.5-1.37 
Illinois  &  Michigan  Canal,  31,  33,  34 
Illinois  &  Michigan  Canal  Commission, 

39 
Illinois    &    Mississippi    Telegraph    Co., 

136 
Illinois  Infantry,  Twenty-first,  115 
Illinois  Parallel  R.R.,  127 
Illinois  State  Militia  Board,  114 
Illinois  &  Wisconsin  R.R.,  78,  79 
Indianola,  Iowa,  197 
Interior,   S.D.,  207 
Interior  Junction,  Wis.,  220 
Interstate   Commerce  Commission,   138, 

180,  181,  218,  2.53,  258-260 
Iowa  Central  Air-Line,  124,  125 
Iowa  Midland  R'y,  145,  146 
Iowa  Southwestern  R.R.,  144,  146 
Ipswich,  Wis.,  273 
Ireland,  William,  140 
Iron  River  Junction,  Mich.,  143 
Iron  River  R.R.,  217 
Ivanhoe,  Minn.,  273 


Jackson,  Andrew,  5,  12,  14,  23,  29 
Jackson,  Mitchell  Y.,  92,  93,  104 
James  MmUson  (steamboat),  19-21,  23, 

27,  28,  35 
Janesville,  Wis.,  62,  68,  79,  80,  123 
Jaync,  Dr.  William,  172 


328 


Jefferson,  Wis.,  78 

Jensen,  Olaf,  K8 

Jervis,  John  IJ.,  2T1 

Johnson,  Alex,   199-202,  205,  207,  233, 

230,  237 
Johnson,  Col.  R.  M.,  3S 
Johnston,  Cen.  A.  S.,  135,  136 
Jones,  William   K.,  31 
Junction  U'y,  219 


Kami)eska,  S.D.,  KiO,  Kit 
Kate  Shelley  Bridge,  191,  197 
Kaukauna,  AVis.,  81 
Keep,   Albert,  153,  217 
Keep,  Henry,  133,  131 
Kelleher,  Pat,  178 
Kelly,  Oliver  Hudson,  140 
Kenosha,  Wis.,  123 
Kercheval,  Gholson,  22,  29 
Keystone,  S.  D.,  169,  234,  239 
Kimberly,  E.  S.,  22 
Kingsbury,  G.  W.,  164,  180 
Kinzie,  James,  22 
Kinzie,  John  H.,  32 
Kinzie,  Robert,  15,  25,  28,  29 
Kuhn-Loeb  committee,  139 


La  Crescent,  Wis.,  92 

La  Crosse,  Wis.,  78,  79,  210 

La  Crosse  &  Milwaukee  R.R.,  80.  151 

La  Crosse,  Tremi)leau  &  Prescott  R.R., 

160 
La  FoUette,  Robert  M.,  229 
Lake   Benton,  Wis.,  101,  151 
Lake  Crystal,  Minn.,  150 
Lake  Forest,  111.,  277 
Lake  House,  The,  27,  28 
Lake  Louise,  Canada,  285 
Lake  St.  Croix,  151 
Lander,  Wyo.,  225,  228,  238,  273,  285 
Lane,  111.,  67,  73 
Lanier,  James  F.  D.,  80 
Larson,  Nels,  181 
Lead,  S.D.,  1G9-171,  211,  2.32.  239 
Lesterville  Lediier.  182 
Le  Sueur,  Minn.,  95,  107,  230 


Lewis,  Iowa,  199 

Lewis,  Cai)t.  Meriwether,  70,  231 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  85,  94,  113,  116,  117, 

136,  137,  172,  188,  229 
Lincoln,  Mary  Todd,  172 
Lincoln,  Neb.,  71,  154,  199,  224 
Lincoln,  Fort  Abraham,  S.D.,  167 
Limiegar,  David  T.,  117,  118 
Little   Big  -Horn,   Battle  of,   167,   168, 

227,  230 
Little  Falls,  Wis.,  220 
Locke  Hotel,  174 
Lombard,  111.,  72 
London,  Wis.,  273 
London  &  Northwestern   R'y,  250 
Long  Pine,  Neb.,  169 
Los  Angeles,  Calif.,  257,  285 
Louisiana  Purchase,  96 
Louisville,  Ky.,  13 
Lowell   Institute,  70 
Lowrey,  Pete,  170 
Ludington,  Gov.  Harrison,  142 
Lyons,  Iowa,  124 
Lyons  &  Iowa  Central  R.U.,  124 

Mc 

McCall,  Jack,  231 

McCormick,  Cyrus,  33,  34,  55,  71,  92 

McGill  University,  143 

McKenzie,  Alex,  173,  174 

McKinley,  Maj.  William,  222 

McLaughlin,  Mrs.  Catherine,  130,  131 


M 


Madison,  Wis.,  62,  79,  101,  161,  227,  229 

Madison  &  Beloit  R.R.,  78 

Madison  Express,  40 

Magic  Mountains,  165,  166,  168 

Mahan,  Robert,  57,  58 

Manitowoc,  Wis.,  220 

Mankato,  Minn.,  95,  103,  107,  109,  150, 

151,  242 
Maple  River  R.R.,  145 
Marchant,  George  E.,  162 
Mnrcy,  William,  5 
Marengo,  111.,  73 
Marquette  &  State  Line  R.R.,  79,  80 


329 


Marshfield,  Wis.,  220 

Mather,  Thomas,  50-52 

Mayfair,  111.,  2T3 

Mayo,  Dr.  Charles,  230 

Mayo,  Dr.  William,  230 

Mayo,  Dr.  William  W.,  230 

Maywood,  III.,  50,  60 

Meeker,  Dr.  Moses,  38 

Megan,  Charles  P.,  257,  260 

Mendota,  Minn.,  96,  106 

Menominee  R"y,  144 

Menominee  River  R.R.,  143-145 

Merritt     brothers:     Alfred,     Cassius, 

Jerome,    Leonidas,    Lewis,    Lucius, 

Napoleon,   230 
Mesabi  iron  range,  227,  230 
Metropolitan,  Mich.,  143 
Mexican  War,  114 
Meyers,  T.  N.,  207 
Michigan  Central  R.R.,  54,  57,  58 
Midland,  S.D.,  237 
:ilikadn,  The  (operetta),  170 
Mills,  D.  O.,  216 
Milwaukee,  Wis.,   71,  93,  100,   126-128, 

161,  220,  228 
Milwaukee  &  Chicago  R.R.,  127,  128    . 
Milwaukee,    Lake    Shore     &    Western 

R.R.,  137,  220 
Milwaukee  &  Madison  R"y,  144 
Milwaukee  &  Mississippi  R.R.,  79 
Milwaukee  Sentinel,  127 
Mineral  Point  R.R.,  75 
Minneapolis,  Minn.,  71,  95-98,  103,  109, 

152-154,  180.  228,  257 
Minnesota  &  Black  Hills  R.R  ,  151 
Minnesota  Junction,  Wis.,  79,  80 
Minnesota   Valley   R.R.,   107,   108,   144, 

150,   151 
Mississippi  River,  18,  22,  31,  32,  40-42, 

61,  64,  66,  67,   69,  75,  87,  88,  94,  95, 

97,   101,    115,   122-126,    145,    149,    150, 

155,  160,  187,  196,  227,  229 
Mississippi     &     Rock     River    Junction 

R.R.,  66,  67 
Missouri  Valley  &  Blair  R'y  &  Bridge 

Co.,  145 
Mitchell,  Alexander,  134 
Mitchell,  S.D.,  172-182,  206.  242 
Mitchell,  Gen.   William    ("BUly"),   134 


Mitchell  Republican,  182 

Mohawk  &  Hudson  R.R.,  271 

Moingona,  Iowa,  191,  192,  194-198 

Moline,  111.,  55 

Monarch  of  the  Hudson  (steamship),  20 

Monico,  Wis.,  220 

Moore,  Tom,  26 

Morgan,  Richard,  55-57 

Morrison,  111.,  67,  73 

Morristown,  X.J.,  5 

Morse,  Corbin,  232 

Morse,  Samuel,  65,  71,  113,  136 

Muir,  John,  229 

Murphy,  Dr.  William  P.,  230 

Museum  of  Science  &  Industry,  59 

Mystic,  S.D.,  233 


N 


Narenta,  Mich.,  143 

Nashville,  Tenn.,  13 

National  Safety  Council,  283 

Neenah,  Wis.,  81 

Neligh,  Neb.,  169 

Nelson,  III.,  224,  274 

Nevada,  Iowa,  123 

New  Buffalo,  Mich.,  57-59 

New  Deal  regime,   139 

New  Diggings,  111.,  38 

New  Orleans,  La.,  13 

New  Ulm,  Minn.,  95,  151 

Newberry,  Oliver,  22 

Newberry,  Walter  L.,  22,  29,  30,  47,  51, 

52,  63,  121 
Newberry  &  Dole,  20,  22,  24,  60 
Newberry  Library,  132 
New  York,  N.Y.,  8,  14,  15,  20,  27,  48, 

81,  127,  129 
New  York  Central  R.R.,  54 
New  York  &  Erie  R.R.,  12,  14,  21,  63 
New  York  Evening  Star,  18 
Niles's   Register,  40 
Nininger,  Minn.,  229 
Ninson,  William,  22 
Norbeck,  Sen.  Peter,  242 
Norfolk,  S.D.,  167 
North  Chicago  Rolling  Mill,  143 
Northern  Illinois  R.R.,  217 
Northern   Pacific  R.R.,  13.5,  139,  173 


330 


North  Wisconsin  U'y,  152 
Nurlhwestern    Gazelle    ij    Oalcna   Ad- 

v«rlhrr,  tO 
Northwestern  Stage  Co.,  168 
Northwestern  Union  R'y,  144 


Oak  Park  (Oak  Hidf?.),  111.,  5!),  68,  153, 

233,  270 
Oakdale,  Neb.,  169 
Oconto,  Wis.,  220 
Ogden,  Mrs.  Abigail  (Widow),  7,  8,  11- 

13,  16,  17 
Ogden,  Abraham,  5-7,  9 
Ogden,  Fleetwood  &  Co.,  31 
Ogden,  Iowa,  191,  198,  224 
Ogden,  Jones  &  Co.,  31 
Ogden,  Mahlon,  8,  9,  1.3,  31,  53,  71,  81, 

132 
Ogden,  Peter  Skene,  6 
Ogden,  Sheldon  &  Co.,  31 
Ogden,  Utah,  6 

Ogden,  William  (1st  settler),  5 
Ogden,  William  Rutler,  3-38,  40,  41,  44, 

47-1!),   51-59,   62-64,   68-71,  80-82,  85- 

87,   100,   116,   117,   121,   123,   128,   129, 

131-133,    150-152,    215,   225-229,    231, 

233,  270,  271,  274-276,  285 
Ogdensburg,  N,Y.,  5,  6 
Ohio   Life   Insurance   &   Trust   Co.   of 

New  York,  104 
Old  Ashton,  S.D.,  201 
Old  Minnescla,  S.D.,  245 
O'Leary,  Mrs.,  130,  131 
Olmstead,  George,  192,  195 
Omaha,  Neb.,  71,  117,  119,  126,  139,  142, 

1.50,  153,  154,  170,  188,  227,  228,  246, 

280 
Omaha  &  North  Nebraska  R.R.,  152 
O'Meara,  Father,  25,  26 
Ontonagon  &  State  Line  R.R.,  79,  80 
Ordway,  Nehemiah,  173 
Oregon,  111.,  42 
Ormonde,  Duke  of,  11 
Otis,  .John,  36 
Ottumwa,  Cedar  Falls  &  St.  P.iul  R'y, 

14G 
Owen,  T.  J.  V.,  22,  29 


Paint  River  R"y,  219 

Palatine,  111.,  277 

Parker,  W.  H.,  170 

Park  Falls,  Wi.s.,  211 

Parr.mt,  Pierre,  95-97 

Parrish  Junction,  Wis.,  220 

Patrons  of  Husbandry,  140 

Patton,  Dr.  William  W.,  114 

Paulson,  D.  A.,  201 

Pearl  Harbor,  Hawaii,  263,  279,  280 

Pearson,  John,  168 

Pearsons,  Hiram,  22 

Pease,  J.  J.  R.,  81 

Peck,  Ebenezer,  32 

Pender,  Neb.,  274 

Pennsylvania  Society  for  the  Promotion 

of  Internal  Improvements,  271 
Peoria,  111.,  38,  224 
Perkins,  Thomas  H.,  81 
Perth,  Minn.,  273,  274 
Peshtigo,  Wis.,  44,  132 
Peters,  E.  C,  222,  231 
Philadelphia,  Pa.,  4-9,  13-15,  48 
Philip,  S.D.,  232,  236 
Pierre,  S.D.,  161,  165,  172-180,  182,  183, 

206,  224,  232,  234,  236,  237,  239,  242 
Pig's  Eye,  Minn.,  96,  97,  227 
Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  129 
Plainview  R.R.,  144 
Planks,  S.D.,  209,  210 
Plant,  Henry  B.,  135 
Poole,  Ernest,  274,  275 
Pope,  Gen.  John,  136 
Porter,  H.  H.,  151,  1.53 
Portland,  Oregon,  257,  285 
Pottawattomie  Indians,  15 
Potter,  Sen.  R.  L.  D.,  141 
Potter   Law,   141-143 
Powers,  Mich.,  143 
Prairie  du  Chien,   Wis.,  79,  80,  86,  96, 

97 
Pratt  Junction,  Wis.,  220 
Presbyterian  University,  174 
Prhle  of  the  Lakes   (steamship),  20 
Princetcm  &  Western   R.R.,  217,  219 
Promontory  Point,  Utah,  116 
Prophetstown,  111.,  42 


331 


Proviso,  111.,  250,  251 

Pruyne,  Pete,  29 

Pullman,  George  M.,  72,  137,  187,  188 

Pullman  Palace  Car  Co.,  134,  137,  187 

Q 

Quinnesee,  Mich.,  143 

R 

Radisson,  Wis.,  211 

Railway  Condvictors,  Order  of,  197 

Ramsey,  Gov.  Alexander,  86,  87,  106 

Ramson  &  Saratoga  R.R.,  63 

Randolph,  Neb.,  274 

Rapid  City,  S.D.,  168-170,  173,  178,  232- 

234,  236,  239-213 
Rapid  City  Joiminl,  181 
Ravena,  N.Y.,  3 
RajTDond,  B.  W.,  47,  52,  75 
Raymond,  S.D.,  201 
Reconstruction  Finance  Corp.,  256 
Redfield,  S.D.,  176,  200,  202 
Reed,  Charles  M.,  19-21 
Revolutionary  War,  6 
Reynolds,  III.,  39 
Rice,  Edmund,  102 
Richards,  Ralph  C,  283 
Richmond,  111.,  122 
Rider,  Eli,  22 
Robbins,  Allen,  52 
Robertson,  Col.  D.  A.,  140 
Robinson,  Doane,  161,  240,  241 
Rochester,  Minn.,  95,  101,  103,  228,  242 
Rochester  &  Northern  Minnesota  R'y, 

144 
Rockerville,  S.D.,  169,  239 
Rockford,  III.,  37,  42,  43,  47,  48,  61,  62, 

73,  123,  227 
Rockford  &  Rock  Island  R.R.,  66 
Rock  Island,  111.,  55,  62 
Rock  River  Valley  Union  R.R.,  78,  79 
Rockville,  111.,  37 
Rogers  Park,  111.,  277 
Root     River     &     Southern     Minnesota 

R.R.,  101,  103,  151 
Rosebud  Reservation,  235,  236 
Ross,  Horatio  N.,  167,  230 
Roth,  Claude  A.,  260 


Rushmore,  Mount,  241 

Russell,  J.  B.,  47 

Ryan,  Chief  Justice  Edward  G.,  141 


Sac  Indians,  15,  40 

St.  Anthony  Express,  98 

St.   Anthony   Falls,   Minn.,   95-98,   103, 

227 
St.  Charles  Air  Line  Branch,  74,  122 
St.  Charles  R.R.,  144 
St.  Croix  Falls,  Wis.,  78 
St.  James,  Minn.,  107,  225 
St.  James'  Church,  30 
St.  Louis,  Mo.,  6,  38,  40,  41,  97,  175,  180, 

231 
St.  Louis,  Alton  &  Chicago  R.R.,  136 
St.  Louis  Fair  of  1903,  59 
St.  Mary's  of  the  Lake,  Church  of,  26 
St.  Paui,  Minn.,  71,  72,  79,  85,  86,  88, 
92,  93,  95-98,   101-104,   107,   109,   110, 
140,   150,   152-154,   157,  161,  210,  228, 
257,  280,  281 
St.   Paul  Eastern  Grand   Trunk  R.R., 

220 
St.  Paul  Pioneer,  107 
St.  Paul  &  Sioux  City  R.R.,  109,  151, 

152 
St.    Paul,    Stillwater    &    Taylor    Falls 

R.R.,  152 
St.  Peter,  Minn.,  93,  101,  107,  160 
Salem,  111.,  261 
Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  92 
San  Francisco,  Calif.,  257,  278,  280,  282, 

285 
Sargent,  Fred  W.,  256,  262 
Sauganash  House,  28,  36 
Saunders,  William,  140 
Savage,  Minn.,  108 
Savanna,  111.,  42,  64 
Sawyer,  Edgar  P.,  1.53 
Sawyer,  Philetus,  153 
Scales  Mound,  111.,  64 
Scammon,  Eliakim,  36 
Scammon,  Jonathan  Y.,  35-37,  47-53,  60, 

62-64,  68,  71,  78 
Schreiber,  Rev.  Francis,  198 
Schurz,  Carl,  229 


333 


Scott,  Snmurl,  239 

Scrantiin,  Pa.,  Ifi2 

Scripiis,  .John  I..,  117 

Seaforth,  Minn.,  273 

Seattle,  Wash.,  280 

Sewerage  Commissioners,  Board  of,  H 

Seymour,  James,  iO 

Shnkopee,  Minn.,  lOfi,  108,  109 

Shannon,  Judpe,  164 

Sheboygan  &  Western  R'y,  lU 

Sheehan,  Daniel,  59 

Shelley,  Kate,  191-198 

Shelley,  Michael  J.,  192 

Sheridan,  I.t.  Gen.  Philip,  131 

Shiloh,    Battle   of,   135 

Shoshoni  Indians,  225 

ShuUsburg,  111.,  38 

Sibley,  H.  H.,  108 

Sidney,  S.D.,  167 

Sidney,  Neb.,  168,  171,  239,  244 

Simpson  College,  197 

Sioux  City,  Iowa,  71,  126,  145,  153,  154, 

163,  167,  168,  205,  222,  224,  227,  231, 

273,  274 
Sioux  City  &  Dakota  R.R.,  162-164 
Sioux  City  &  Pacific  R.R.,  126,  137,  139, 

145,  217-219 
Sioux  City  &  Pembina  R.R.,  162,  164 
Sioux  Critic,  181 
Sioux  Falls,  S.D.,  152,  157-159,  162-164, 

172-174,  179,  227,  236 
Sioux  Indians,  87,  97,  98,  100,  102,  150, 

156,   164,   166-168,  230,  232,  233,  235, 

286 
Sitting  Bull,  Chief,  230,  231,  233 
Sleepy  Eye,  Minn.,  224 
Slim  Princess   (train),  211 
Slocombe,  Capt.,  21,  23,  27,  28 
Smith,  George  M.,  175 
Smith,  Gregory,  32 
Smith,  Henry,  81 
Smith,  Mathias,  22 
Smith,  Perry  H.,  71,  81,  82 
Smith,  Thcojihilus  W.,  32,  60,  62 
Snelling,  Col.  Josiah,  96 
Snow,  George,  22 
South  Carolina,  Secession  of,  113 


South  Dakota  State  Agricultural  Col- 
lege, 238 

Southern  Minnesota  R.R.,  103,  105-108 

Southern  Pacific  R.R.,  135,  257,  281,  282 

Si)ringfu-ld,  111.,  172,  188 

Stainbaugli,  Mich.,  113 

Stamford,  N.Y.,  3 

Standing  Buffalo   (Oglala  Indian),  166 

Stanton,  Edwin  M.  (Scc'y  of  War), 
137 

Stanwood  &  Tipton  R'y,  146 

State  Line  &  Union  R.R.,  144 

Steele,  Franklin   (legendary),  96 

Stennctt,  W.  H.,  50,  73,  121,  187,  188, 
206 

Sterling,  111.,  42,  67,  73 

Stevens,  Col.  John  H.,  97,  98 

Stewart,  Hart  L.,  47 

Stillwater,  Minn.,  89,  93,  153 

Stratford,  Wis.,  274 

Strickland,  William,  271 

Sturgis,  S.D.,  170 

Sullivan,  Dennis,  130 

Sumter,  Fort,  113 

Sun  Valley,  Idaho,  285 

Superior,   Neb.,  224 

Superior,  Wis.,  71,  153,  228 

Sutherland,  Iowa,  273 

Sweeny,  Tom,  240 

Sycamore,  Courtland  &  Chicago  R.R., 
217 


Taylor,  Charles,  22 

Taylor,  Edmund  D.,  32 

Taylor,  Gov.  W.  D.,  141 

Temple,  J.  T.,  22,  32 

Thompson,  Horace,  108 

Thompson,  James,  39 

Thompson,  J.  E.,  108 

Thomson,  Charles  M.,  260 

Tilden,  Samuel  J.,  71,  76,  80 

Todd,  Capt.  J.  B.  S.,  172 

Toledo  «c   Northwestern  R'y,  144,  145, 

15.3,  217,  219 
Tomah,  Wis.,  151 

Tomah  &  Lake  St.  Croix  R.R.,  151 
Toussaint    I>'Ouverture    (Emperor    of 

Haiti),  99 


333 


Townsend,  Elisha,  50-62 

Tracy,  John  F.,  l.St 

Tracy,  Minn.,  151,  161 

Transit  Co.,  107 

Transportation  Act  of  1920,  24S 

Tremont  House,  57,  58,  64,  114 

Trollope,  Anthony,  94 

Troy  &  Schenectady  R.R.,  63 

Turner,  John   B.,  47,  52,  61-66,  68,  71, 

72,  75,  121,   187 
Turner  (Turner  Junction),  111.,  60,  61, 

66,  67,  72,  74,  75,  122 
Turton,  S.D.,  27.3 
Twombly,  H.  McK.,  216 

U 

Union  Army,  115 

Union  Pacific  R.R.,  116,  117,  126,  139, 

153,  257,  280-2S2 
United  States  Railroad  Administration, 

248 
United   States   Railroad   Labor   Board, 

249 
United  States  Supreme  Court,  142,  253, 

259,  260 
University  of  Wisconsin,  227 
Urgent  Deficiencies  Act,  260 
Utah-Idaho  Sugar  Co.,  246 
Utica  &  Schenectady  R.R.,  58 


Vail,  C.  E.,  162 

Valentine,  Neb.,  145,  169 

Vance  Bill,  142 

Vancouver,  Canada,  285 

Vanderbilt,  F.  W.,  216 

Vanderbilt,  W.  K.,  216 

Van  Deusen  Grain  Co.,  202 

Van  Home,  Sir  William,  135 

Van   Nortwick,  John,  57-59,  64,  66,  67 

Verdigre,  Neb.,  235 

Verendrye  brothers,  166 

Verne,  Jules,  178 


W 


Wall,  S.D.,  236,  244 
Walker,  Charles,  52 


Walton,  N.Y.,  3-8,  11,  19,  34,  35,  62 
War  Department,  United  States,  114 
Warren,  111.,  64 
Warren's  Mills,  Wis.,  151 
Washburne,  Elihu,  52,  53 
Washington,  D.C.,  8,  12,  60,  97,  102,  117, 

120,  125,  157,  158,  165,  241,  242 
Washington,  George,  24,  241 
Watkins,  John,  22 
Watertown,  S.D.,  174,  199,  202,  203 
Watertown,  Wis.,  78 
Waterville,  Maine,  36 
Waupaca,  Wis.,  81 
Waukegan,  111.,  127,  212,  278,  279 
Weed,  George,  13,  17,  34 
Weed  family,  5,  6,  8 
Weld,  William  F.,  54 
Wellington,  Mich.,  274 
Wentworth,  Elijah,  29 
Western  Wisconsin  R.R.,  151 
West  Point  Military  Academy,  114 
Weyerhaeuser,  Frederick  (lumberman), 

230 
Wheaton,  111.,  74 
Wheeling,  John,  8,  9 
Wheeling,  Mary,  8-10,  13 
White,  L.  L.,  284 
White,  Stewart  E..  243 
Whitewood,  S.D.,  232,  245 
Wicker,  C.  G.,  162-164 
Wilder,  A.  H.,  108 
Willard,  Frances,  197 
Willard,  William  C,  143 
Williams,  Rowland   L.,  260-265,  283 
Willow  Ri%'er,  Wis.,  78 
M'ilson,  Walter,  201 
Winfield,  111.,  74 
Winnebago  Indians,  15 
Winnebago  War,  39 
Winnetka,  111.,  277 
Winona,   Minn.,  92,   101,   103,   150,   154, 

160,  236 
Winona  &  St.  Peter  R.R.,  107,  144,  150, 

160,  161,  217,  219 
Winslow,  Albert,  81 
Winslow,  James,  80 
Wisconsin  Northern  R'y,  221 
Wisconsin  R.R.,  144 
Wisconsin  &  Superior  R.R.,  79,  80 


334 


Wisconsin  Siiiireme  Court,  111,  112 

Wisner,  Neb.,  169 

Wolsey,  S.D.,  27 1 

Wolsey,  Thomas  Cardinal,  274 

Wood,  Ed,  192,  191,  195 

Woodstock,  111.,  78,  276 

Woonsocket    Capital     Investment    Co., 

171 
World  War  I,  138,  239,  264. 
World  War  11,  139,  26  «■ 
Worthington  &  Sioux   Falls  R.R.,  151, 

152 
Wovoka   (medicine  man),  232 


Wrifihl,   Frank   Lloyd,  229 

Wrifrht,  John,  22 

Wyoming  Central  U.K.,  217,  218,  238 


Yankton,  S.D.,  159,   162,   164,   168,   172, 

173,  182,  235 
Yates,  Gov.  Richard,  114. 
Yellowstone  Park,  285 
Yokohama,  Japan,  280 
Youiijr,  Bripham,  6 
Young,  J.  U.,  81