This file part of www.dodgejeffgen.com website
James H. Warren, now a resident of Swan Lake City, Emmet County, Iowa, who was the first settler in the town of Hubbard, Dodge County.
Dodge County History of, early, 1837-1840s, James Warren recollections
Hubbard History of, early, 1837-1840s, James Warren recollections
Theresa History of, early, 1837-1840s, James Warren recollections
Rolling Prairie History
of, early, 1837-1840s, James Warren recollections
Oak Grove Formerly Fairfield, history of, early, 1837-1840s, James Warren recollections
Mayville History of, early, 1837-1840s, James Warren recollections
Kekoskee History of, early, 1837-1840s, James Warren recollections
Horicon History of, early, 1837-1840s, James Warren recollections
Herman Township History
of, early, 1837-1840s, James Warren recollections
DodgeCountyOldSettler.htm
in a DJCGS dir
incl whs history list?
Letter from an Old Settler
The History of Dodge County, Wisconsin, 1880, pp 331-336, R-977.5-Dodge-H62 (layout
reformatted for website)
The following very interesting chapter of
reminiscences is from the pen of James H. Warren, now a resident of Swan Lake
City, Emmet County, Iowa, who was the first settler
in the town of Hubbard, Dodge County.
Mr. Warren once wrote an extended history of this
county, but, unfortunately, his manuscript was destroyed by fire together with
other valuables. Appreciating the
importance of a work of this character, Mr. W. kindly and willingly consented
to draw upon his memory for a few facts relative to pioneer days in
Wisconsin.
By a perusal of his letter, many of Mr. Warren's old
Dodge County acquaintances will discover that he has been more successful than
they in county seat matters:
________________________________________________________
Algona, Iowa,
H. C. Hansbrough, Esq.-Dear
Sir: Yours of October 29 is
received. My time is very much occupied
at present, but feeling a lively interest in the work in which you are now
engaged, I will endeavor to call up some reminiscences of the past, and hope
the substance thereof may find a place in your valuable work, so as to live in
the future. As I was not the first
settler in the county, and my MS record of the early days is lost, I can speak
positively only of such matters as came under my own observation. Of matters pertaining to the settlement
previous to May, 1845, you will be obliged to seek information from others.
Dodge County
Not having visited Dodge County for many years past,
I know not who, among the old pioneers, may now be living, or, if living, where
now located. I will name a few who, if
living, could give you much valuable information: Hon. Hiram Barber, A. H. Atwater, Ethan Owen,
Waldo and Durkie Lyon, George and Ranslow
Smith, Morris Grout, E. C. Lewis, Silas Grover, Silas Hemstreet;
Garry Taylor, James Rogers, Dr. Stoddard Judd, Alvin and William Foster, Amasa Hyland, Chester May, Solomon, Narcisse
and Paul Juneau, Lucas S. Van Orden, H. D. Patch,
Robert Whittaker, Lathrop Horton, Martin Rich, Sr., Alfred Wheelock, and many
others whose names I do not now recall.
Those above named are such as I call to mind, irrespective of locality,
as being among the old pioneers.
Dodge County was organized in 1844, under the
Territorial Government. It was thirty
miles square, containing, in round numbers, 900 square miles, and it was
provided that it could never be subdivided so as to reduce its area below 900
square miles. Efforts have since been
made to divide the county, but have invariably been met by the Constitutional
barrier above referred to; hence its boundaries still remain unchanged.
The first white settlers located in the county about
the year 1838, or perhaps a year later.
But I desire to go back of this date and relate an incident or two,
given me by Narcisse Juneau, at the time I was
collecting matter for the history which I prepared in 1859 and 1860. There are two towns in the county bearing the
names of two daring frontiersmen, viz, Burnett and Clyman. In 1837,
these men started from Milwaukee on a hunting and
trapping expedition into the then unsettled part of the Territory now known as
Dodge County, which at this period contains a white population considerably in
excess of forty thousand. Before leaving
Milwaukee, they agreed with Solomon Juneau that his son, Narcisse,
then a lad of ten or twelve years, should accompany them to act in the capacity
of interpreter with the Indians. After
the departure of the party, Mrs. Juneau was so troubled with forebodings of
evil that she persuaded Solomon to send a friendly Indian on the trail. He overtook the party on the old Milwaukee
and Fond du Lac trail, about twenty miles out from
Milwaukee, and returned the lad in safety to his anxious mother.
Burnett and Clyman proceeded on their journey to the point where the trail
crossed the Ossian or East Fork of Rock River, and where the picturesque little
village of Theresa now stands. Here they
purchased a canoe from the Indians, intending to make their way down the Fork
to the Great Winnebago Marsh, afterward known as Lake Horicon. A little before sunset, they had reached a
point in the river, called the "Ox Bow," in what is now the town of
Theresa. The men had hauled up their
canoe, started a fire, and Burnett had stepped a short distance away to gather
some dry branches for fuel, when both men were fired upon by Indians. Burnet was shot dead on the spot, and Clyman was wounded.
By this time it was nearly dark, and Clyman,
seeing no safety except in instant flight, ran at his best speed, hotly pursued
by one of the Indians. The darkness
increased as he fled from his pursuer, until it was with the greatest
difficulty that he avoided injury to himself coming in contact with trees. He finally came to a large tree that had
fallen and lay directly in his way.
Leaping over, he dropped behind and partially under it (the Indian
jumping over him and passing on), where he lay concealed till about
About this time, the Indians held a great council, to
take into consideration a project for the utter extermination of all the white
settlers then in the Territory. This
great council was held on the high mound on Rolling Prairie, a little distance
north of the old George Smith farm.
Solomon Juneau, then at Milwaukee, knowing of the council and its object
made his way to the spot. After quietly
listening to the "talk" of the red men, he then addressed the
council, telling them of the great power and resources of the white men; that,
though their plan might be temporarily successful, the final end could be none
other than disastrous to the Indians.
Mr. Juneau was regarded as a great and good man by the Indians, and, after
mature deliberation, his advice was followed, the council dispersed, and the
early settlements in the Territory were saved from the horrors of a terrible
Indian massacre. The descendants of the
early pioneers of Wisconsin owe to Solomon Juneau a debt of gratitude, the
magnitude of which few have any idea.
I come now to speak of the first settlement of a few
towns which came under my own observation, and of which I can speak
positively. Among the first settlers in
Fairfield (now Oak Grove, I think) were Ethan Owen, Morris Grout, William Pratt,
B. Snow, Richard F. Rising, James Riley, Allen H. Atwater, John Warren, Martin
Rich, Sr., Garry Taylor, Hiram Barber.___ Harrison, Silas Hemstreet,
Amasa Hyland, Durkie and
Waldo Lyon. The date of settlement was
about 1843 or 1844. The county seat is
located at Juneau in this township.
Hubbard
The first whites that settled in the town of Hubbard
were Mrs. Delight Warren, Edwin Warren, C. F. Warren, wife and one child, J. H.
Warren, Mrs. Louisa H. Cornell (widow) and daughter, Edwin Giddings, wife and
one child, and James Broughton. This
little colony located on Section 5, Town No. 11 north, Range 16 east, the date
of settlement being
During the winter of 1846-47, William M. Larrabee, who had purchased from Gov. Hubbard, of New
Hampshire, a large tract of land on Section 6,
commenced building the dam at Horicon, at about the same time laying out the
village of that name. He also built a
large house of tamarack logs, one part of which was used for a store and the
other for a dwelling-house. H. B. Marsh
opened the first blacksmith-shop. The
water-power and unfinished dam soon passed into the hands of Martin Rich &
Sons, who completed the improvement, and, for many years afterward, did a
profitable business. The dam was built
by Joel R. Doolittle, myself
and brother furnishing all the plank for the flumes.
Mayville, Kekoskee
The town of Williamstown, of which Mayville is the
principal village, was first opened up to white settlers in May, 1845, by Alvin
and William Foster, and Chester May. These
gentlemen selected the site for their mills, commenced the dam and built the
saw-mill in the summer of 1845. The
saw-mill frame was raised in the fall of that year, the running-gear put in and
the work of sawing lumber commenced some time in November or December. The flouring-mill was put up by the same
company a year later. In January, 1848,
John Orr, James White and Skidmore E. Lefferts, from
the Mishawaka Iron Works, purchased the extensive iron-ore beds located in
Hubbard and Herman Townships and commenced the erection of the iron furnace at
Mayville. Nearly a whole year was
consumed in building it. As soon as the
furnace was well at work, a plank-road was projected and built from Mayville to
Oconomowoc. The year previous to making
the improvements just referred to, Samuel Jewett built a large saw-mill in this
township, at a place now called Kekoskee. The water-power at Kekoskee
was first selected in the summer of 1845, by Stephen Walkley,
who sold his claim to Jewett.
Late in the fall of 1845, two men called at the house
of the writer hereof and stated that they were looking for land. One of the men appeared to be an Englishman,
stout built, and seemingly in possession of considerable money. His traveling companion had every appearance
of a hard character. They remained a
short time and then resumed their course, following the old trail
northward. As such occurrences were very
frequent, nothing was thought of it and the fact was nearly forgotten. But the next summer there transpired an event
that called all those circumstances fresh into remembrance. James Fletcher and another man were making
hay on the borders of the Great Winnebago Marsh near the place where the East
Fork enters the marsh. In passing to and
from their work, they had to cross a small creek near where the old trail
crossed. Here, hidden under the banks,
they discovered the body of a man in the last stages of decomposition. As soon as it could be done, a post-mortem
examination was had, with the usual result in such cases. It was evident that the deceased came to his
death by violence, the skull having been fractured by a heavy blow, but by whom
no one knew. The clothing found around
the remains, also the height as appeared by the skeleton, answered the
description of the Englishman before alluded to. I do not remember that any inquiry was ever
made for the man.
Herman
Lathrop Horton, with his wife, one son and two
daughters, was the first white man who settled in the town of Herman. The date of his settlement was March,
1846. The first couple married in Herman
were the writer hereof and Miss Augusta B. Horton, daughter of the above-named
pioneer. The event took place on the
16th day of September, 1846, James Broughton, Esq., officiating, and every
family then living in the two towns--Herman and Hubbard--being witnesses of the
ceremony. In the course of the summer of
1846, quite a large number of Germans came and settled in this township, and a
little later the "Cole Settlement" was begun, in the southeastern
corner of the township, at a place now known as Woodland Station, on the
Milwaukee & La Crosse Railroad. The
township filled up very rapidly with a good class of German farmers who have
developed the hidden riches of the soil and made it in agricultural importance
one of the first towns in the county.
Neosho
In the spring of 1845, a gentleman by the name of
Cotton commenced the erection of a dam on the Rubicon, at what is now the
village of Neosho. But before the mill
was far advanced, the whole property passed into the hands of Lucus S. Van Orden, who finished
the work and laid out the village. By
his business energy and steady perseverance, Mr. Van Orden
succeeded in building up a lively place and a prosperous business.
Hustisford
Late in the fall of 1844, or early in the winter of
1844-45, John Hustis, formerly of Milwaukee, began
erecting a dam on Rock River, at Hustis' Rapids, now Hustisford. Mr. Hustis not being a practical mill man, the work progressed
rather tardily, but was finally finished, the mills being built and operated
with good profit to the proprietor. Some
difficulty arose between the proprietors of Hustisford
and those at Horicon, during the spring of 1846, on account of the back-water
from the Hustisford dam, and, if my memory is not at
fault, the dam was cut down a little so as to prevent it flowing back into the
Horicon mills.
Green Bay Races
Among the early pioneers of Dodge County, it
frequently happened that two or three men fell desperately in love with the
same piece of land. In all such cases,
it turned out that the fellow who could get to the Land Office with his money
first was the lucky one. These little
contests were known as "Green Bay races," the U.S. Land Office then
being at Green Bay. I have a distinct
recollection of some of those trials of speed and endurance. In 1844, there were, at Oak Grove, three or
four individuals who each wanted a certain tract of land. I cannot now call to mind the names of all
the interested parties, but will relate the circumstances, and undoubtedly some
"old settler" can supply the names.
Two men, each believing that no one but himself knew his errand, had
started for Green Bay, to enter the aforesaid tract of land. About dark on that same day, it having become
known that two men were on the road to the Land Office, and both after the same
piece of land, Richard F. Rising said to one James Riley, that he (Rising)
would furnish the money, and pay a very liberal sum besides, to any man who
would get to Green Bay and enter that land ahead of those who had already been
several hours on the road, and well mounted.
The reply of Mr. Riley was, "Give me the money to pay for the land,
and if I fail it shan't cost you a cent"
The money was forthcoming, and Riley, after laying in a full supply of
crackers and cheese, started within fifteen minutes after the words were
spoken. Taking a kind of
"dog-trot," as he expressed it, he struck out in the darkness of
night, and before the next day dawned had passed both the mounted men. Never halting, except to drink from some cool
spring or clear brook that came in his way, he made the distance (ninety
miles), entered the land in question, and the next day, while on his way back, met the two horsemen, crowding their horses to the full
extent of their powers. Mr. Riley is
still living, near Rochester, Minn. Mr.
Rising passed to his final rest many years ago.
One more incident of this nature, in which the writer
of this article cut a somewhat conspicuous figure. In the
beginning of February, 1848, with my young wife and infant daughter, one week
old, I was sitting at the breakfast table, when suddenly the door opened, and
in walked, or rather leaped, my friend Charles Taylor. He was not long in stating his business. He said that three men--to wit, Garwood
Green, Rufus Allen and George Varnum, had already
gone on their way to the Land Office, to jump his claim, an
eighty acres of choice land that he had held as a pre-emption for a year
or more. Each of the men wanted the land
for himself, and fondly believed that he was the only man living who knew aught
of his errand. But their departure, as
well as their business, became known very early in the day, and Mr. Taylor set
out for me, knowing that James White, a member of the Wisconsin Iron Company,
had left money with me to purchase for the Company some choice
timber-land. The eighty acres in
question was just what the Company wanted, and Mr. Taylor deeming the chance
for getting his right from the Company better than from speculators of the kind
to which Mr. Green belonged, desired me to go to Green Bay and enter the
land. In just fifteen minutes after
Taylor came into the house, I departed on my errand of justice. Taking a lunch for dinner, I struck out on
the old Indian trail for Fond du Lac, and reached
that hamlet about sunset, without having seen any one on the way. Putting up at the "Badger House,"
then the largest hotel in the place, I there found all my competitors; and not
only slept in the room, but actually slept in the same bed with one of them,
without exciting the least suspicion of my business. Next morning, I started for Green Bay, which
point I reached, entered the land, and made several miles on my way back before
meeting Mr. Green. He never guessed what
was my business until he laid upon the counter of the
receiver (Elisha Morrow) the numbers of land he
desired to enter, when he was modestly informed that the particular tract had
been entered by Mr. Warren on the previous day.
The Iron Company was glad enough to get the land, it being covered with
a heavy growth of hard maple timber, which the Company wanted for making
charcoal. They did the square thing by
Mr. Taylor, paying him handsomely for his claim.
Hubbard
The first marriage ceremony performed in the town of
Hubbard took place at my home, and was of a very primitive character. Joseph Hall, Esq., of Walworth County, and
Miss Lydia M. Warren, of Hubbard, were to be united in the bonds of matrimony. The time was set for
In the pioneer days, it was not always the case that
the best men were selected to fill posts of honor. In truth, it was not always that good material
was at hand with which to fill all offices of trust. Men were frequently elected Justices of the
Peace, whose aptness to judge of the qualities of whisky far exceeded their
ability to judge of law or to determine questions of right and wrong. One instance of this kind I now remember
having recorded in my manuscript history of Dodge County. In the town of Neosho, near where the village
of that name now stands, was a certain Justice of the Peace by the name of
Bickford. In the trial of his first case,
His Honor became sadly "mixed up."
Between his frequent potations of raw whisky and the fearful wrangling
of two pettifoggers who slaughtered the law with relentless tongues, and whose
knowledge of Blackstone was confined to hearsay, the said Bickford became so
muddled before the close of the trail that he determined to dispose of the case
in a new and unheard-of fashion. First,
he ordered the Constable to pay all the costs.
Then in a solemn and impressive manner he burned his docket and closed
the performance by deliberately swallowing the contents of his ink-horn.
In 1844-45, the Winnebago Indians were somewhat
troublesome, though not in open hostility.
The settlements then in infancy, scattered over an extensive area, the
men poorly supplied with arms and in no condition for defensive warfare,
rendered the red men bold and aggressive.
In the early part of 1845, Hon. Hiram Barber, who had entered a large
tract of land on Rock River, about two miles east of the present county seat,
had commenced making improvements upon his lands. The body of a log-home had been put up, and
Mr. Barber was then keeping "bach," as many
of the early settlers were obliged to do.
One day a large party of "reds" of both sexes, but with a
preponderance of "bucks," came to Mr. Barber's cabin. After asking for and receiving a considerable
quantity of "cocushigan" (commonly
pronounced by the whites, "quashkin,"
meaning bread), they began a system of appropriations quite inconsistent with
the legal ideas of the proprietor of the goods.
When the Judge remonstrated against their unlawful proceedings, two of
the old "bucks" attacked him with the manifest intent to "lay
him out," and take whatever they pleased.
One of the "bucks" had got possession of a new pitchfork that
had been left standing outside the building, and with that instrument he made
an attempt to slaughter his intended victim.
The Judge, then nearly forty years younger than now, instantly
comprehending the situation, seized the pitchfork, and, wrenching it from the
hands of his foe, dealt the red devil a blow on the head that felled him to the
ground, broke the fork-handle in twain, and, for the moment, so far intimidated
his assailants as to give him time to jump into his cabin and bar the door
before any of the party came to the relief of their fallen champion. Once inside the cabin, he seized his trusty
rifle, and when the whole crowd, male and female, resumed the attack, they soon
ascertained that the tables were fairly turned on them, and that it was "puckachee" or die.
None of them being just then anxious for a peep into the "happy
hunting-grounds," very wisely and suddenly concluded to puckachee. Thus
ended what might have proved to be a bloody tragedy but for the pluck displayed
by Judge Barber. I might relate other
incidents of a like character, in which myself and
young wife were conspicuous actors, but fearing that it might be deemed
egotistical, prefer to drop the subject.
Social gatherings, where they "tripped the light
fantastic toe" from early candle-light till next day's dawn, became quite
common as soon as the population was sufficient to admit of such gatherings, by
taking in the whole county for fifteen or twenty miles around. For several years, there were no violinists
nearer than Watertown, except the writer and Lathrop Horton. These two gentlemen did all the "cat-gut
scraping" for the country round about for several years, and until better
players came to take their places. Yet
it is a notable fact, and we often hear it alluded to by those who took part in
the associations of those days, that the dance was much more enjoyable than the
new-fangled dances and stiff manners of what is commonly termed the
"refined etiquette" of the ballroom of the present day. Then there was a union of purpose for mutual
protection and enjoyment. All occupied
one common level, and no such thing as caste was know
among us. Every man and woman stood on
his or her good behavior.
As has been the case in the opening-up of all this
Western country for settlement, designing
speculators--"land-sharks"--made a business of informing themselves
as to the choicest tracts of land pre-empted by honest and industrious, but
poor men;, and then quietly stepping up to the land office, enter the claim. This system had been carried on to such an
extent, in the early settlement of Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, and the
southern part of Wisconsin, that it came to be looked upon as little better
than "piracy on the high seas."
Some of the early settlers in Dodge having already experienced some of
the ruinous results of such proceedings, determined to bar the doors, if
possible, against a recurrence of the evil.
Accordingly, in some towns, particularly in Hubbard and Herman, the
people formed themselves into "Protection Societies" for mutual aid
in cases such as are above alluded to.
The Constitution, By-Laws, Rules and Regulations of these societies,
constituting the written portion of the work, were all carefully drawn, so that
if they should, by any chance, fall into the hands of our enemies, there would
be nothing that could be construed to mean intended violence, or any attempt to
resist the peaceful operations of the law.
But it was the unwritten portion of our work where the "fun came
in." Each regular member was
provided with a hideous-looking mask made of unbleached cotton cloth, and
trimmed with red around the mouth and black around the eyes. Each member was likewise provided with a
"frock" of the same material.
The idea of this kind of uniform was borrowed from the "Anti-Renters,"
some of whom were members of our order, and had but recently come from the
exciting scenes in the anti-rent district of Eastern New York. One of these men told the writer that he
witnessed the "taking-off" of "Bub"
Steele, a Sheriff who was shot and killed by the Anti-Renters. When attired in full uniform, the
"Protectionists" were a terror to evil-doers; hence it is not
surprising that one fellow in Herman, who had been guilty of a little crookedness
in the matter of a neighbor's pre-emption, when visited by a dozen or more of
these vigilantes, ran as for dear life, and afterward, in trying to describe
the affair, denominated them as "white devils." The existence of these societies had a wholesome
effect in Dodge County, and the class of land-sharks before alluded to very
soon came to know that the east side of Rock River, in Dodge County, was a very
unhealthy locality for fellow of that ilk.
During the summers of 1845 and 1846, vast quantities
of rich prairie lands were broken up. In
the fall of 1846, ague prevailed throughout the county to such an alarming
extent that there were not well people enough to take care of the sick. No apparent cause for the prevalence of ague
in 1846, more than in any other season, seemed to exist, unless it was
attributable to the decomposition of such vast quantities of vegetable matter,
the result of much new breaking. Taking
into account the population at that date, as compared with any subsequent year,
1846 was the most unhealthy season ever known in Dodge
County.
But, Mr. Editor, I fear I am "boring"
you. I was not aware that I could
remember so much of forty years ago, without the assistance of a single scrap
of any kind of record to refresh my memory.
Yet I find, on sitting down to this work, I am compelled to sift fine,
lest I string out too much. Could I have
had three months' notice, I could have made a much more readable article. Now if you should conclude to insert this
simply as a letter containing some reminiscences of early times, you are at
liberty so to use it; or if you think it too long or too scattering in its
make-up, you are equally at liberty to cull out such passages as will best
answer the design of your work, and throw the remainder into your waste-basket. I will now endeavor to comply with your
request for a sketch of my life up to this date.
I was born in Eden, Erie Co., N.Y.,
At the age of fourteen, my father, with his family,
removed to Cherry Valley, in Ashtabula County, Ohio, where my four elder
brothers had gone the year previous, to open up a new farm in the heavy
timber-lands of that portion of Ohio.
Here I labored hard in clearing away the heavy timber until about the
1st of April, 1845, when, with my widowed mother, two brothers and two sisters,
I emigrated to the then Territory of Wisconsin, selecting my home in Dodge
County, one and a half miles east of the present village of Horicon.
Being one of the first settlers in Hubbard Township,
and having taken a lively interest in the settlement and development of the
county, I was chosen Town Clerk at the first town meeting held. From that time until the spring of 1859, I
was chosen to some office nearly every year.
On
From 1849 to 1866, I worked principally at carpenter
or millwright work. In June, 1859, I
removed with my family to Arcadia, Trempeleau Co.,
Wis., where I remained about four years.
It was at this place, in March, 1860, that my house and all its
contents, including my "History of Dodge County," then in manuscript,
was destroyed by fire.
This was a very serious loss of several thousand dollars' worth of
property, including a choice and carefully selected library of over four
hundred volumes. This library I had been
thirty-five years in collecting, and it contained a number of volumes then out
of print, and which I have never been able to replace.
In March, 1862, I removed to Eau Claire City, Wis.,
where I was employed most of the time through the summer seasons in the
capacity of millwright in the extensive mills of Daniel Shaw & Co. My winters were passed in the pineries, hewing square timber and scaling logs. In May, 1866, I sold all my possessions in
Eau Claire, built a flatboat of capacity sufficient to carry my family and
goods, and in it made my way down the Chippewa to the Mississippi, and thence
to Dubuque, Iowa. There I sold my boat,
and, by rail, came to Iowa Falls, and thence by wagons to Algona.
My eldest son, then about fourteen years of age, had
commenced learning the "art preservation of all arts," and on his
account I bought the UPPER DES MOINES office, for $600, paying but a small
installment down. Previous to this date,
November, 1866, I had never written more than two or three newspaper articles. But throwing my whole energy into the
enterprise, together with the faithful labor of my son, who took the entire
charge of the mechanical department, we succeeded in making it one of the
largest and (though modesty should forbid me from saying it) best newspapers in
Northern Iowa.
We enlarged the paper from 24 to 28 columns, and
again from 28 to 32, and finally from 32 to 36 columns, all the time increasing
the patronage and circulation of the paper in proportion to its size. In 1872, I sold the old Washington press, the
same being the first press ever put upon Iowa soil, and replaced it with a
$2,000 Potter power-press, together with all other necessary furniture,
job-presses, etc. On
The newspaper business was the beginning of my
prosperity, though I was somewhat advanced in years when I began. During the nine years of my editorial life I
also served as Postmaster of Algona three years, and
Assessor of Internal Revenue nearly two years.
After selling the UPPER DES MOINES, I embarked in a new enterprise in
the adjoining county of Emmet. The venture was nothing less than the
founding of a new town, called Swan Lake City, located at the geographical
center of Emmet County, with a view to getting the
county seat re-located at the new town.
It was a bold venture, the county seat having been located for sixteen
years at the village of Estherville in the northwest corner of the county. But pluck and untiring perseverance will
win.
At the October election, 1879, the Board of
Supervisors, of which body I have been a member for the past three years,
ordered the question of re-location to be submitted to a vote, and the result
was a large majority for Swan Lake City.
We had a suitable building which we tendered to the county for Court
House and county offices, and, on
Addenda.--After reviewing my manuscript (something I
very seldom do), I find some important matters that I have entirely failed to
notice. The vast bed of iron ore, the
brown hematite, or flax-seed ore, was known to exist in Dodge County as early
as 1845, but no one knew much of its character or value. We called it the "red lands," but
had no thought of the vast mine of wealth contained in it. Early in 1845, I procured from the Land
Office at Green Bay, Government plats of Towns 11 and 12, Range 16, and Town
11, Range 17, for the purpose of showing land to new-comers. These I sent to the land office about once in
each month for correction, thus keeping myself pretty
well posted on entries in those towns.
By the aid of these plats I assisted many of the first settlers in
making choice of their future homes, and at the same time became so very
familiar with the principal sections and quarter posts that I could tell the
witness trees at a great number of points without reference to the field
notes. It was in this business of
land-looking that I first saw the ore beds.
I took a number of people to see the lands beneath which the ore is
located, none of whom were suited with it until I showed it to Rufus
Allen. The eighty acres covering the
richest, and, probably, the deepest portion of the mine, was entered by Reuben
Allen, a son of Rufus Allen. In the
summer following, young Allen was killed by lightning, and the property
reverted, in law, to his father, who soon afterward sold it to the Wisconsin
Iron Company for $9,000. In February,
1848, myself and Oscar F. Horton were employed by the
Wisconsin Iron Company to sink the first shaft, in order, if possible, to find
out the depth of the mineral. After
sinking to the depth of twenty-one feet, the ore becoming richer and more
compact, so much so that we could no longer dig with shovels, Mr. White became
well satisfied that there was an inexhaustible supply of mineral, and directed
us to quit digging, remarking at the same time that there was enough ore to
supply a hundred blast furnaces for one hundred years, and then have plenty
remaining. His estimate of the supply
was not so wild a guess as might at first seem probable. The man who first discovered and determined
the character of the "red lands" was Edward Cowen, a native of the
Isle of Man. Mr. Cowen was brought up in
the iron mines of his native island, and at first sight declared the
"red" substance to be rich iron ore.
Game and fish were very abundant for some years after
settlers began to come into the county.
It was no difficult task for a "good shot" to hang up three or
four deer in a day. Occasionally a
hunter would bring in a huge black bear.
I remember one having been killed by John Newsam
and Hiram Ward, as late as 1848, that weighed over
four hundred pounds.
Winter 1845-46
The winter of 1845-46 set in very severe about the
20th of November. In the latter part of
December, 1845, or early in January, 1846, a pack of very large timber wolves
attacked our cattle in the night and killed a valuable cow within thirty feet
of our door. All the male members of the
family were at Mayville, getting in logs to the mill. Not one of the female members knew how to use
a rifle, though there were two good ones in the house. They, however, let out a valuable bulldog,
and he lasted about thirty seconds. A
few nights after this, the same pack killed two fine yearlings for Collins
Bishop. The pack was finally broken up
by Hiram Ward, who succeeded in slaying one and Oscar F. Horton soon after
killed another.
Mound Builders
I desire to say a few words in relation to the antiquity
of the country of which I have been writing.
You may, perhaps, deem it of sufficient importance to place the
substance in your history. The ancient
Mound-Builders, whom I denominate "Aztecs," were at some period
spread over the whole of the State and evidently very numerous. But at what period they came or went away, it
is now impossible to determine with any degree of certainty. Sufficient evidence still exists to prove
that these people were acquainted with the arts and sciences to a very great
extent, understood making bricks, pottery and fine edged-tools, and were in
many other respects a civilized and enlightened people. In proof of this theory, I might cite the
written opinions of Josiah Priest and many other eminent antiquarians. But instead of quoting other authorities I
will state "what I know" about the matter, and leave you to hunt up
other authorities.
The great number of mounds scattered along the Rock
River, from Mayville to the Mississippi, are proofs that have remained for ages
since their authors passed away. Some of
these appear to have been built for defense, as witness those at Aztalan, and others to mark the final resting-place of some
chief, hetman or ruler. Myself and Garry Taylor once opened one of these curious looking
amounds. It
was located a little way southwest from Mr. Taylor's house, and was built in
the shape of an immense alligator, the whole length of the mound being about
sixteen rods. In the center, about where
the heart of the reptile might be supposed to lie, we dug down to the depth of
four or five feet, where we found the decayed bones of a human being. From the position of the bones, it appeared
that the body was placed in a sitting posture, the skull being the first
reached; then pieces of the vertebra and small bits of ribs, and all resting
upon the pelvic bones, with the leg bones extending out to the eastward. Under the whole mass was a considerable
quantity of well-preserved charcoal. On
the mound, and within a few feet of where lay this skeleton, was then growing a
white-oak tree, fully two feet in diameter.
In the winter of 1849-50, I had occasion to cut down
a very large white-oak tree, standing on the town line between Hubbard and
Williamstown, on Sections 5 and 32, the same being a "sight"
tree. If my memory is correct, the tree
was between three and four feet in diameter, and had made a very slow
growth. In cutting in on the east side,
at a distance of sixteen inches or more from the outer bark, I found a peculiar
looking scar. On examining this scar
closely, it was found to be the plain mark of some sharp instrument not unlike
the ax in common use at this time.
Carefully cutting in, above and below the scar, I took out a block or
chip six inches square and two inches thick.
This chip bore several distinct cuts to the depth of an inch or more,
the cuts being very smoothly made with a keen ax or hatchet. In 1859, I sent the chip to the State
Historical Society at Madison, with a full statement of the finding, giving the
number of consecutive rings outside of the scar (which I think was something
over eight hundred), as well as the full age of the tree as shown by said
rings. My recollection is that the tree
was over one thousand years old. I
visited Madison on
In 1848, while engaged in breaking up a piece of land
on his farm, Garry Taylor discovered many pieces of ancient pottery of curious
make. He also found in the same field
numerous pieces of well-burnt brick, some of which were nearly whole. I think Mr. Taylor still preserves specimens
of both. His house is situated on a beautiful
piece of high ground, on what was once a deep bay, forming a part of Lake
Horicon.
My theory is that the Great Winnebago Marsh was once
a lake, covering an area of nearly 100,000 square miles; that the barrier
formerly existed at the outlet where Horicon now stands, that made it a large,
deep lake; that the Aztecs knew something of commerce and navigation, and that
there once stood a large town or city on the spot where Mr. Taylor's house now
stands; that the bay spoken of was a beautiful harbor for said vessels and that
vessels were built at that place. In
support of my theory I will state, that in 1848, while assisting Garry Taylor
in excavating his cellar, we found many evidences of an ancient city having
existed there. Parts of well-burnt bricks,
fragments of pottery, and at a depth of four feet below the surface, we found
five iron spikes, uniform in size and form, five and a half inches in length,
with "chisel" points and heads very much like the spikes used in
ship-building at the present day. These
spikes were so completely oxidized that they were easily broken in pieces. Whether Mr. Taylor
preserved those relics of a long past and forgotten civilization or not, I am
unable to state.
I might relate many other facts of a similar
character, but with one more I will close this chapter. In the spring of 1847, while plowing on my
land on Section 5, I was trying the experiment of deep plowing. With two yoke of oxen on a stirring plow,
running "beam deep," I discovered a large quantity (nearly a
half-bushel) of flint arrow-heads of all sizes from one to three inches
long. They appeared to have been
deposited all at one time and in an excavation made for that purpose. I had previously noticed large quantities of
chips from flint stones used in the manufacture of arrow-heads, not far from
where the deposit of arrow-heads was found.
And now, Mr. Editor, I trust you will deem yourself
sufficiently bored by my "long yarns," and it will be a relief to me
to learn that it does not compel the necessity for some kind friend to pen your
obituary before your work is finished.
What I have written has been written in great haste. You will, doubtless, discover many
grammatical errors as well as errors in spelling, but while correcting these
mistakes you will bear in mind that I never read a page in any work on grammar
in my whole life. I fully appreciate the
importance of preserving a correct record of events connected with the first
settlement of Dodge County. Hoping that
your efforts may be successful and your reward full and ample, I subscribe
myself,
Fraternally yours,
J. H.