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Mason County History CompanionOld Places Familiar Faces |
Would you like to help transcribe or collect information?
Would you like to help transcribe or collect information? Mail to: Dave Petersen
I am
more than grateful to Ethelwyn Wing whose prodding suggestions and helpful
criticism kept this story alive when my discouraged inclination was to let it
die; to Effie Fortune Stanford and Charlotte Leonardson who courageously read
through the typescript searching for errors (and found them); to Kathryn
Stanford, city librarian, and Agnes MacLaren of the Daily News staff who made
available to me old newspaper files; to Mabel Morse who brought me much
valuable material from the Smith-Morse family collection; to Rose D. Hawley,
curator of the Mason County Historical Society museum, who made available a
great deal of classified material; to Charles E. Cartier whose knowledge and
memory of lumbering in Mason County have proved highly valuable; to Dr. Charles
W. Brayman of Cedar Springs whose loan of his mother's diaries preserved an
outstanding record of pioneer days; to Miss Carrie Mears who loaned her
father's diaries for publication and to Mrs. Allen Williams who edited them; to
Jacob Lunde whose diorama has given a priceless record of lumbering days; and
to the members of pioneer families whose reminiscences have been exceedingly
helpful, among them: Flora Pierce Clark, David Gibbs, Karl Ashbacker and Ida
Ashbacker Grant; Ben Beaudreau, Hans Rasmussen, James H. Sawyer of Chicago,
Edith Dowland Hawkes, Bess LaBelle Sheldon, Daisy Marsh Reek, George Pomeroy,
Maria Hansen Daub, Virgil Fitch, Florence Fitch, Mrs. Charles Dahn and those
who have related reminiscences of their families in the meetings of the Mason
County Historical Society from which sources I have drawn freely.
SAND, SAWDUST AND SAW LOGS Lumber Days in Ludington
I have set myself the pleasant task of picturing some of
the scenes and recalling some of the people who walked the stage in the era of
the lumber mill and sailing ship. Then our lives were shaped by the roistering
lumber jack's echoing call of "timber-r-r," the roaring drive of pine
logs down the Pere Marquette River and the
noisy hum of saw mills. From memories that have remained with me, from
such information as I have been able to garner from old timers and the dusty
files of yellowed newspapers, I have pieced together this none-too-serious and
unconventional account of the region around Pere Marquette Lake. I have
attempted to make this record accurate, but
no doubt much that was important has faded from my memory or escaped my attention. None of my
sources is infallible. Such as it is, I submit this history of early
Mason County hoping it may be acceptable to those readers who enjoy the flavor of by-gone days.
About a half century after Columbus discovered the New
World, the bold French explorer, Jacques Cartier, anchored in the Bay of Gaspe
and claimed all the land back of it for his sovereign, Louis XIII. Cartier
named this region New France in America. A bit more than half a century later
James I of England established the boundaries of the Virginia colony to extend
"up into the land throughout from sea to sea west and northwest." James
called this vast region his Fifth Dominion. Thus the banners of two kings
floated at one time over the fair land of
which Mason County is a part.
But the Indian held possession.
Tribe fought tribe, the swaying pines grew
undisturbed and the tiny beaver, not knowing that his silky brown fur
was prized by kings, paddled into the placid streams to construct his dams. A
French fur trading company named the
Hundred Associates was the first to penetrate these green-black forests
of the Indian.
A
century after Cartier claimed the region, Samuel Champlain, governor of New
France, entrusted a young fur trader, Jean Nicolet, with the responsibility of
bringing together as many Indians "as could be notified by fleet
runners" to make a treaty which would give the King of France jurisdiction
over these vast hunting grounds. After a series of feasts and ceremonies,
Nicolet made a treaty with the Indians. Thus was established the Inner Empire
of Michil-Mackinac.
The
English Hudson's Bay Company soon followed. Raising their flag with their Latin
slogan, "a skin for a skin", they established their trading posts
irritatingly near the French. The worried French began erecting forts around
the English from Quebec to the Gulf of Mexico. Soon bickerings began that led
to the long series of French and Indian wars in which the Indians were
generally allied with the French against the English.
The
long conflict became involved with the tremendous Seven Years' War in Europe.
When the conflict ended in 1763, France had been driven from the American
continent and English territory extended west to the Mississippi River. Beyond
lay Spanish territory—Louisiana.
Regardless
of the foreign flags waving above them the Indians carried on their own wars.
In the many conflicts the Iroquois drove the Chippewa, the Ottawa and the
Potawatomi westward to the shores of Lake Michigan. After a time these three
tribes formed a loose confederacy, though the Potawatomi sometimes warred
against the other two. In one of these conflicts the river now known as the
Pere Marquette, received the Indian name Not-a-pe-ka-gon, "river with
heads on sticks," following a battle between a tribe of Ottawa living
along its banks and a fierce band of Potawatomi from the south.
The conquering Potawatomi, in celebration of their victory and as a warning to all unfriendly tribes, severed the heads of their slain victims and erected the grim trophies on poles along the river edge. Nin-de-be-ke-tun-ning, "place of skulls", was the gruesome name given the Indian village on the south side of Pere Marquette Lake.
The
First White Men
The recorded history of Mason County did not begin with accounts of subduing Indians. Nicolet's treaty had opened a vast territory to the missionaries of his faith who, according to Bancroft, "went out with altars strapped to their backs, with a flask of communion wine and a packet of colored pictures of the saints" to rescue the souls of the savages. Their work had made this country safe for development when the white settlers arrived. The letters, diaries and reports—the Jesuit Relations-sent by these ardent missionaries to their superiors mark the beginning of recorded history of the Great Lakes region. The death of one of these courageous missionaries, Pere Jacques Marquette, begins the recorded history of the white man in Mason County.
On the
eighteenth of May, 1675, a weather-beaten, birch-bark canoe took shelter in the
shallow "river" that channeled the placid waters of Pere Marquette
Lake into the restless waters of Lake Michigan. Attending the dying priest,
prone on a rush mat in the bottom of the canoe, were his two voyageurs—
"donnes"—devout men of the church who gave their services to the
missionaries without pay—Jacques L'Argilier and Pierre Porteret. These three
white men were the first to visit this region so far recorded.
Marquette's faithful attendants hastily prepared a rude hut of saplings and bark, kindled a fire of driftwood, and bore the beloved missionary to this flimsy shelter on a lonely hill. Hours later the intrepid young priest, only thirty-eight years old, died. His sorrowing men buried his body on the desolate knoll, and over his grave placed a wooden cross.
Two
years later some of Marquette's followers returned and exhumed the precious
bones. With solemn ceremonial they were carried to the mission at St. Ignace
and enshrined. The rustic cross was left to mark the hallowed spot.
Nearly
half a century later Pierre Xavier de Charlevoix visited his fellow explorer's
death site and, recording the first description of the barren sandy region,
stated that the "river" was "no more than a brook" but that
it widened into a lake nearly two leagues in circuit, and that the river had
apparently cut through a great hummock. Today Charlevoix's sand-clogged "brook"
is known as the site of the old channel. The present channel is man-made. The
river proper, the former Not-a-pe-ka-gon, enters the lake on its eastern
border. Both lake and river bear the name of Pere Marquette.
Fur traders, fishermen and eventually permanent white settlers followed Charlevoix and found remnants of a weathered cross atop a sandy hill. Among these white visitors was William Quevillonwho came through here in 1835-6 buying pelts of the Indians for Louis Campeau, founder of Grand Rapids.
After
several years Quevillon returned and settled on a farm on the Claybanks. Later
he moved to Ludington. He platted a subdivision in the north part of Ludington
naming the streets for his family and himself. Quevillon linked the eras of the
passing red man and the oncoming white man.
Though
the Indians here were friendly when the first white man came, evidence of
strife among the tribes remained. Pounding breakers and beating winds bared the
sandy soil and brought to the surface flint arrow heads and broken bones of
warriors who had fallen in battle. The new comer found Indian history suggested
in the names by which the streams, the villages and the land were known to the
native. Indian legends gave precise accounts of events of historical import.
All combined to tell the story that became the prized possession of the first
white families who lived here. An outstanding Indian,
Naw-gone-ko-ung, "Leading Thunder", bridged the days of the transient
fur trader and the permanent settler. In 1845, just after the death of Sag-e-Maw,
the last chief of the Ottawa, Indian families began to scatter. Leading Thunder
was among the few who remained. Nearly all reminiscences of early settlers
mention him as Good John.
John
was reared in the lodge of his grandmother having been orphaned when a child.
For many years he kept alive traditions that she had imparted to him. The
Indian, having no written language, passed on by accurate oral reporting the
history he wanted preserved. It was from the eager Good John that pioneers
heard the story of Black Robe and the weathered cross that marked the place of
his death. John had seen one of the crosses erected by early missionaries. He
had been converted to Christianity and fired with zeal for the cause.
The Indian such as the white man found here a century ago has disappeared from this region. The few who remain in this county have received schooling and, for the most part, are respected and useful members of this community.
On a
balmy day in the late summer of 1847, The Eagle, a sailing schooner northbound
from Chicago, with a family of six aboard, stood off the entrance to Pere
Marquette Lake. Unable
to
sail through the shallow channel, the captain sent the family ashore in the
yawl. Their oxen, cows, and pigs were forced overboard, and after circling the
schooner once or twice, swam ashore. A year's provisions for the family were
brought to land in row boats. Such was the dramatic arrival of the Burr Caswell
family, first permanent white settlers in the region about Pere Marquette Lake.
Burr was forty years old, his wife, Hannah Green, a year or two younger. Of
their four children, Mary was fifteen, George thirteen, Helen ten, and Edgar
seven.
The
Caswell family lived for a time in a driftwood cabin which the father, who had
fished in the adjoining waters the previous two summers, had built for them.
The cabin was near Nin-de-be-ka-tun-ning, the Indian village of fifty "
fires" and gruesome memory. These Indians lived in lodges, rectangular in
shape, made of bark and covered with dome-shaped roofs. Later Caswell built a
spacious house from lumber which had washed up on the beach, the historic house
still standing on the Lake Shore Road.
Securing
The Waterways
During
the '40's the pine-covered lands surrounding Pere Marquette Lake were turned
over to private ownership. John S. Wheeler made the first entry in June of 1840
taking up a fractional section which included land on the south and east
shores and part of the lake itself. Seven years later the land at the present
channel was entered by Joseph Boyden.
At the end of the decade George Farnsworth and Henry R. Talmadge had taken up the remaining land. These four men controlled transportation on the lake, river and channel.
Waterways
were important then and the man who owned land at the mouth of a river often
exacted tribute of those along its course. The beach was the main highway.
Sailing craft had been spreading their silver wings on the Great Lakes for
nearly two centuries, ever since La Salle's "Griffon" made the first
voyage on Lake Ontario. "Walk-in-the-Water", acclaimed as the first
steamer to navigate the Lakes, had led the way for the propeller thirty years
previously. But up to this time the sailing ship and the steamboat merely
foretold the commerce of the lakes. The inland waterways still belonged to the
canoe, the row boat and the tiny sailing boats.
In 1845 an enterprising young man from Massachusetts, destined to play an important part in the development of the western part of the state, came scouting along the east shore of Lake Michigan. Charles Mears looked with eager eyes on the pine-backed rivers of Mason County. He foresaw that the settlers on the western prairies would build their houses of these towering pines, and the lumber must be transported on these lakes and streams. Of course something would have to be done about these sand-clogged channels, but he was the man to do it. Pere Marquette lands were already taken, but there were "Big Sauble" and "Little Sauble" just north. Mears returned in two years and entered all available land on these lakes and rivers. Old Freesoil beyond "Big Sauble" had been entered in 1844 by John H. Harris.
Thus
all the waterways within the boundaries of the present Mason County came under
control of individual owners. The stage was set for the great drama of the
lumbering era.
Charles Mears had found at Old Freesoil a little water-powered lumber mill, operated by a man named Porter. Porter's mill burned about 1846 and the place was abandoned for awhile, Old Freesoil thereby losing the distinction of becoming the first permanent settlement in the county.
In
1849 a rustic saw mill was built by Baird and Bean on the north shore of Pere
Marquette Lake at the foot of the present south William Street where a little
creek entered the lake. The pine lands surrounding the lake had come into
possession of George W. Ford and Joseph W. Smith. The first land which they
logged off was the present site of the Court House and the Stearns Hotel.
Charles Mears began operations two years later (1851) at Little Sauble, now
part of Epworth Heights.
The years following the arrival of the Burr Caswell family marked the opening of the region to agriculture. Among the first farmers were Amabel Cowan, William Quevillon, Peter LaBelle, Jeremiah Phillips, and Charles King. All settled on the rich land of the Claybanks.
Others soon followed and settled along the watercourses of the region where for untold autumns the gold and crimson leaves of maple, beech and birch had fluttered to the ground to form the fertile top soil of Mason County's fields and orchards.
The
history of farm building in Mason County is packed with drama. If portrayed in
murals an awe-inspiring pageant of men and women of high purpose and great
hardihood could be portrayed. The William Freemans and their seven children
treked over trails covered with ground hemlock into the dense forests of
Freesoil where the father had prepared a house for them. The house burned the
first night of their arrival as howling wolves looked on. Undismayed the
Freemans set up their family altar under the towering trees the following
morning, and the father gave thanks that his family was safe.
The diary of Hiram Beebe of Summit Township reads like a great tone poem set to the rhythm of the woodsman's ax: "Cold and clear. Chopped on the job all day in heavy hardwood timber. "It has been a nice day to chop ... I cut down 50 trees.
"Had
very good luck jamming timber. I will finish the strip 16 rods wide tomorrow
forenoon. "I
broke my ax and now I am a bankrupt timber slasher. "I ground up an old ax that had laid around all summer and
now will have to cope with it."
The David Darrs treked to a homestead in the dense woods of Freesoil. The discouraged father, dismayed by the howling wolves, the pestering fleas and mosquitoes, and the difficulties of travel through forests, was willing to return to Ohio, but the resolute mother walked gallantly along the trail, her industrious fingers busy with her knitting, her needles glinting as an occasional ray of the sun filtered through the dense foliage.
Charles
Dahn and his homesteading neighbors of Amber Township, unable to get material
in by road to finish their log houses, poled a raft of lumber against the swift
current of the Pere Marquette river, battling the slush ice of early winter.
When
conditions made it impossible for them to go on, they tied their raft to the
Elm Rollway for the remainder of the winter. When the homesteaders returned in
the spring for their lumber, every board had been stolen.
The
Samuel C. Genson family drove a covered wagon from Maumee, Ohio, to Victory
Corners. Going down hill the horses fell. The broken tongue of the wagon
pierced the side of one of the horses—an inestimable loss in a new country.
They were obliged to proceed with one horse.
The
wife and children of Pierce Butler arrived at Lincoln and learned with
disappointment that the father who had preceded them, not knowing the day of
their arrival, was not there to meet them. Courageously they set out afoot
through the forest over brambled, vine-harrassed trails to their new home in
Riverton, the elders carrying the young children and all their goods.
Regardless of hardships, occasions for recreation and enjoyment were not infrequent in this new country. An ox-or horse-drawn sleigh could carry a large part of a neighborhood to a sewing bee, a barn raising, a spelling down, a singing or a quilting.
Organization
of churches awaited the coming of the circuit rider, though religion in the
home was not neglected by these sturdy pioneers who were as devout as they were
hardy.
Pioneers
who wrested tillable land from the forest found it necessary to turn to some
other form of work to maintain themselves and their families until the farm
could support them. Fur trading was still profitable when the first settlers
came. The treasured mink and muskrat, the now extinct wolverine and panther,
the fox, and above all, the prized beaver whose pelt was so valuable that it
served as legal tender for lack of currency, were bartered with the Indians for
brass trinkets, gaily colored cloth, knives, guns, tin cups, and the crazing
fire water.
Richard Hatfield who, in the early fifties, married Burr Caswell's eldest daughter Mary in the first white wedding in the county, traded in furs. Dick packed the pelts on his back down the lake shore to New Buffalo, the terminus of the Michigan Central Railroad, then "rode the cars" to Detroit.
Some
of these pioneers, among them Burr Caswell and his two sons, George and Edgar,
turned to fishing for their livelihood. Fishing was big business, not sport,
in those strenuous beginning years. Immigrants were pouring into the fertile
prairies west of the Great Lakes and on to the Mississippi River where for many
years the food supply remained inadequate to maintain the increasing
population. The teeming waters of the Great Lakes helped solve the food
problem. Hundred pound sturgeon, sixty pound trout, forty pound muskellunge, huge
whitefish, pike and pickerel were salted and shipped to this eager market.
The diaries and reminiscences of early comers to this region refer frequently to maple sugar as a money crop. The Indiana produced "Indian" sugar in amazing quantities. J. Freemont Whitaker writes in his reminiscences of Victory Township in the sixties: "Herbert and Gilbert Blodgett came to this district . . . bought sixty acres of fine sugar maple and made and equipped one of the finest camps in Mason County with 3000 buckets." For many years these buckets supplied the syrup for the breakfast stack of hot buckwheat cakes in Ludington homes, and more than one generation of young folks looked forward to the annual jaunt to Blodgett's historic sugar bush.
Though
early Mason County found the passenger pigeon a welcome source of food,
pioneers knew the bird from the sportsman's angle rather than as a business. A
few of these migratory birds came to this part of the state as soon as the snow
was off the ground. They reappeared in June, young, fat and desirable for food
since they fed on sprouted beech nuts which gave them an unusual flavor.
Sometimes
the pigeon appeared for a third time in September. Then farmers found them a
pest since they destroyed the sprouted grain in fall-sowed fields. A migration
averaged more than a billion birds. Pioneers of this region tell of watching a
continuous flight so thick that the sun was obscured for hours.
The
birds lived on forest mast and disappeared with the forest. Like the wolverine
and the panther, the passenger pigeon has become extinct. No doubt the greatest number of
pioneer farmers turned to logging and lumbering for a means of livelihood. The
first saw mills began buzzing in this area shortly after the arrival of the
first white settlers in the late forties. Writing of conditions in early days
from information supplied by the pioneer Charles Houk, Mrs. Merton Luscomb
(Lucille French) relates: "We find that Mr. Houk and Smith Hawley are the
only two people in Summit who try to farm the year round. Most of the men work
their farms in the summer and work in the Ludington lumber camp and mills in
the winter."
Charles Dahn relates, "Father worked in Charles Mears' camp for $96 a year and saved $75 . . . After supper all the men except the teamsters, after working in the woods all day, had to make shingles by hand until ten o'clock."
And
thus grew the structure of this area's early economy-fur trading, fishing,
farming and lumbering. The greatest of these financially was lumbering, but the
sturdy pioneer farmer laid the foundation of the entire structure.
The
territory now comprising Ottawa, Oceana, and Mason Counties was originally
included in Ottawa County. On April 1, 1855 pioneers of this region met for the
purpose of organizing a new county. Indians were invited to attend the meeting,
and records show that Good John accepted and signed the petition. Forty-one
votes were cast. Among the white men who were present were Burr Caswell,
Charles W. King, William Quevillon, Oliver Aubery, Delos Holmes, Hiram Bean,
George Farnsworth and Richard Hatfield. Three townships, Freesoil, Little
Sauble and Pere Marquette were formed.
The county was named in honor of Stevens T. Mason, "boy governor" of Michigan. When in 1831 the territorial governor, Lewis Cass, resigned to become secretary of war in President Andrew Jackson's cabinet, the President appointed George B. Porter of Pennsylvania as governor and John T. Mason of Virginia as secretary of Michigan territory. Porter was too busy with his law practice to come to Michigan, and Mason declined in favor of his nineteen-year-old son who was approved by the President.
In the absence of a governor, the boy became acting governor. When a delegation appeared to protest, young Mason replied, "President Jackson appointed me with his eyes open. Go home and mind your own business." The young man carried on satisfactorily, and four years later was elected first governor of the newly organized state of Michigan.
The first general election of Mason County was held the day after the organization meeting. Daniel Holmes was elected sheriff; George B. Roys, clerk and register of deeds; Charles Freeman and William Quevillon, coroners; John P. Sedan, surveyor; Burr Caswell, judge of probate. Caswell also became fish inspector at this time though there is nothing to indicate this was a county office. The certificate of election was signed by Thomas Andersen and Hiram Orsen as county commissioners (supervisors) and by George B. Roys as clerk.
The
first meeting of the supervisors was held at Little Sauble the day following
the election, and the second meeting occurred in October. At this meeting the
board borrowed twenty-seven dollars from Charles Mears to pay for the necessary
books for the register of deeds of the new county. The next meeting was called
on January 14, 1856. At this meeting Richard Hatfield was paid a bounty of
twenty-four dollars for killing three wolves, and Charles Mears received a
dollar and a half for the book for the clerk, presumably from the twenty-seven
dollars borrowed from Mears. Funds were getting low.
Another special meeting of the board of supervisors was held at Little Sauble early in November of the same year. At this time John Flinn (Flynn) was appointed to assess the property of the county so that three hundred dollars could be raised to pay its outstanding debts. The board decided also that the county seat should be located on the Burr Caswell farm in Pere Marquette Township where a frame building could be used as a court house.
A
meeting was held the following February (1857) at the new county seat, and John
Wheeler was appointed assessor for Freesoil Township.
Two weeks later a meeting of the supervisors was held at which seventy-five per cent was deducted from the tax bills of both Pere Marquette and Freesoil Townships and added to the tax roll of Little Sauble. This brought the latter township's taxes to $693.93—more than the other two combined.
In the
light of what followed one gathers that Charles Mears was not happy about this
soak-the-rich system of taxation.
By the
late fifties Little Sauble which had been born in 1851 was growing healthily. A
dam built where the lake narrowed to form a channel into Lake Michigan now
generated sufficient power to run the mills. A frame building near the dam
housed the saw mill and a grist mill. The place boasted a spacious well-stocked
store building, and a sightly boarding house towered above the cottages of the
workmen. White picket fences protected the gardens that ornamented the village
yards. Mills, store, houses, and fences were refurbished each spring with a
fresh coat of white wash. Big Sauble was four years younger than its sister
village but differed little except in size.
The
settlement at Pere Marquette lagged behind the two Sauble settlements. William
J. Carter, pioneer lake captain, recalled that when he sailed into Pere
Marquette harbor in 1860 the only signs of civilization around the lake were
three buildings—the rustic saw mill, a boarding house of rough unpainted lumber
and a small cottage set back of a white picket fence.
Mrs.
Ellen Egbert, the first white child born in Big Sauble, recalled that around
these settlements, as in the remote parts of the county, timber wolves howled
at night, bears often came in too close, blue green passenger pigeons blotted
out the sun in their migrations, huge fish swam in the waters, sand fleas and
mosquitoes tormented the inhabitants, and babies were born who would grow up to
tell that the happiest days of their lives had been spent in these saw-mill
settlements.
When George Ford took possession of the rustic mill and the surrounding timber at Pere Marquette, the money for the purchase was loaned by James Ludington, a Milwaukee capitalist who later supplied Ford with funds for running the mill. In January of 1859, Ludington, through his attorney, John Mason Loomis of Chicago, secured a judgment against Ford for $69,849.71 to draw interest at ten per cent. Ford transferred the property to Ludington who paid a considerable sum of money in addition to the judgment.
Ludington
was quite fully occupied in Milwaukee.
His
father had established a lumber town, Columbus, in Wisconsin for which James
acted as his father's agent. James was also interested in a railroad and in a
bank. He had taken part in Milwaukee politics to the extent of becoming
alderman. He had established himself in luxurious bachelor quarters in a
Milwaukee hotel. Still a young man in his middle thirties, he gave no
indication at this time of any wild enthusiasm for a tiny lumber mill in
Michigan that had been losing money for its owner.
But
Charles Mears could fit Ludington's mill into his own scheme of things. A
search through Mears' carefully kept diaries indicates that as soon as
navigation opened on the lakes in the spring of 1859 he was ready to begin
negotiations to lease this mill. In April he records a trip across the lake in
company with a group of men, among them John Mason Loomis. They arrived in
Little Sauble on the 26th and the following morning left for Per Marquette
where they "went to Caswell's" (the court house) and attended a sale
of lands. The 28th he and Loomis accompanied by J. P. Sedan (the county
surveyor) went to Pere Marquette and "run a line down the river."
The
next day Loomis and Sedan again went to Pere Marquette, but Mears spent the day
in his store at Little Sauble until five o'clock in the afternoon when he
"Rode pony to Pere Marquette." The following day was Sunday. Mears,
Loomis and Sedan spent the day "mostly" in the store at Little
Sauble. The next day "After breakfast signed contract with Loomis and
Sedan for a lease of the Pere Marquette property two years and then went with
them to Pere Marquette, surveyed harbour, examined lands and returned home to
Little Sauble."
It is not likely that Sedan had acquired part ownership of the mill. His part probably was to contract to do some engineering work on the channel.
It is
also significant that Mears speaks of Little Sauble as home although his
business keeps him in Chicago the greater part of the time.
Charles Hears now controlled all the harbors on the east shore of Lake Michigan between Muskegon and Manistee. His fleet of sailing ships augmented by chartered vessels and his favorite little "Propeller" flitted back and forth between his east shore settlements and Chicago. Eastbound they carried "hands" to work in the mills, settlers and their families who had been encouraged, sometimes aided, by Mears to enter farm lands; oxen and horses for logging and supplies for his stores and camps. Westbound the cargoes were furs, maple sugar, brightly colored Indian baskets, and the all important lumber. During the memorable summer of 1860 cargoes of evergreens crossed the lake in Mears' ships to deck the Wigwam, the hall in which Abraham Lincoln was nominated to the Presidency.
The
entire east coast was thriving, and Pere Marquette began to share in the
general prosperity.
If the
farmers of Pere Marquette Township could have read the entries in Charles
Mears' meticulous diaries in 1859 and 1860 they might have been alerted to
coming changes. On Monday, August 8 of 1859 he wrote: "After breakfast
rode with Mr. Colby (his lawyer) to Pere Marquette where we found the Schooner.
Forrester, in charge of Capt. Nelson of Chicago, for a load of lumber. Sea too
heavy for loading." At this time the lumber from the mill was taken out on
scows in Lake Michigan and loaded since the channel was too shallow to permit
the schooners to enter. "After sailing about the lake and talking with
George Caswell returned to Little Sauble for the night."
A year
later, August 16, 1860, Mears records: "After retiring at a late hour,
left my room and commenced to prepare for changing Pere Marquette river and
inquiring about roads, town business and conventions. The following day after
breakfast started with team, 25 wheelbarrows and a good number of hands and
worked with Pere Marquette hands, 36 in all, during the day and returned at
night." On the next day he hurried to Pere Marquette "with few less
hands." "By driving sheet piling and working hard stopped the water
before dark. Sedan and 7 hands started the water at new channel. Took supper on
the ground and worked till 9 when raining." Changing the channel between
Pere Marquette Lake and Lake Michigan was as simple as that according to Mears'
diary.
From
the records of eye witnesses come highlights on this historic piece of
hydraulic engineering. A primitive road extended north from the channel,
along a narrow strip of swirling sand turned east and continued along the north
end of the lake to the mill. This road had been piled with slabs in some places
as high as twenty feet. A vivid account of cutting the new channel was recorded
in 1914 by August Miller, who had been employed by Mears as a sawyer and who
had worked on the harbor job. He reported that one day the lumberman ordered
his foreman to have his men dig a ditch across this narrow neck of land. Mears
then left for Chicago. During his absence the ditch was made deep enough to
permit Miller to paddle a canoe between the two lakes.
When Mears returned he was informed that his plan of making a new channel was suspected. According to Miller Mears was greatly perturbed. Other reports state that Mears was furious because the canoe had gone through the ditch. He had hoped to be the first to make the historic trip.
At
this point Claybanks farmers objected vigorously to moving the channel. Burr
Caswell, his son-in-law Sewall Moulton, Jeremiah Phillips and others sent
protests to Washington only to find that Mears and Ludington had been there
first and had permission to make the change.
It
required a year to close the old outlet. One account says an old schooner was
filled with debris and sunk in the channel. Miller's account says brush, straw,
planks, and everything available were thrown into the channel slowly closing
it. As the water began to rise in the new ditch the slab-packed road formed a
dam and flood conditions threatened the nearby homes.
With
picks, crowbars, ox-drawn cedar posts, and other primitive implements, Mr.
Mears' "hands" were struggling to make a way through the solid wall
of slabs. With the first opening the water rushed through with such force that
the " Propeller ", attempting to make port, was unable to enter even
under a full head of steam. Many delays and disappointments occurred before the
new channel was banked with slabs, dredged and otherwise made usable. Thus was
born the present channel, the basic structure of Ludington's magnificent
harbor.
Not only the national election of 1860 was momentous because of the election of Abraham Lincoln to the Presidency, but also memorable was the local election in five-year-old Mason County. Charles Mears of Little Sauble was chosen to represent the people in the state legislature as senator. His influence was soon felt in the county.
To
Mears it was unreasonable that the county seat should remain on the Burr
Caswell farm. The lumberman contended that the logical place for it was at his
thriving, white-washed village of Little Sauble.
It is
not to be wondered at that this energetic, far-sighted business man, who
controlled the jobs in three, possibly four settlements (some claim he leased
the mill at Old Freesoil for a time) was able to induce the supervisors to
present to the voters the matter of changing the location of the county seat.
Nor is
it surprising that with only a handful of farmers to oppose him, the measure
carried. On January 1st, 1861, all there was of county property to move—a few
record books and a little office furniture—was carted to Mears' store at Little
Sauble.
Among
Mears' other achievements that year of progress was having the name of Little
Sauble changed to Lincoln and that of Big Sauble«to Hamlin. He also succeeded
in having a new township, which he also named Lincoln, formed about his
favorite village. His next achievement was to secure a post office for the
community providing space for it also in his store building.
Into
these thriving mill villages and scattered farms of Mason County the Civil War
crashed, taking during four years, fifty-nine men from a population of less
than 900 people. John L. Lynn's tribute to his grandparents, John and Elizabeth
Couch Haggarty, pictures a typical scene of those trying days. " There
were rumors of war and whenever the stagecoach came through to and from
Manistee it was customary (for the Haggartys) to drop their work and go out to
the turnpike to meet it, to receive any mail one might get and to garner
whatever news the drivers might have heard.
"On
June 12, the rattle of the arriving stage was accompanied by the sound of
marching men, and the first sight of a U. S. Army uniform of blue, which the
recruiting officer wore, gave the wordless message that the dark hour had
arrived. Quickly sensing what this meant, John Haggarty said to his young wife,
'It's come Lizzie. War's declared.' She asked him what he was going to do and
his answer came unhesitatingly, 'I must go.' He signed the enlistment blank,
and took his place with the sober faced marching men. He didn't even stop to
unyoke the oxen."
Life
went on in the stricken communities as it always does in war time—women,
sometimes hopeless, courageously carrying on the work of the absent men.
Eventually clouds lifted and skies brightened as the war came to an end.
William Miller, Lincoln pioneer, pictures a happier scene as he tells of
walking with his mother down the beach to meet his father who was coming home
from the war.
The
farmers south of Pere Marquette Lake, especially those engaged in fishing, had
been placed an inconvenient distance from their base by Mears' new channel.
Too, the removal of the county seat to Lincoln put them annoyingly long miles
over poor highways from the seat of their county government. In 1857 they were
granted a measure of relief when the Board of Supervisors of the young county
appropriated $1000 to construct a county road from the line of Oceana county,
through Mason county to the line of Manistee county.
In
1863 the ferry was placed under a licensed operator. William Farrell was
authorized to carry passengers across the channel. Previously travelers had
depended on finding some one living in the vicinity willing to ferry them
across. Farrell was required to give a bond to provide the necessary equipment
and to systematize the rates.
The
equipment consisted of a scow large enough to transport at least one team of
horses, or oxen, and wagon. The scow was man propelled by means of a grooved
mallet-like implement pulled against a steel cable which was stretched across
the channel. Foot passengers were rowed across in a clumsy flat-bottom boat.
Passengers
on the scow were expected, sometimes reminded, to "lend a hand". In
the boat extra oars were carried conveniently for passenger assistance. Fares
were established at five cents for one passenger, fifteen cents for a horse and
passenger, twenty-five cents for a vehicle and horse, and thirty-five cents for
a vehicle and double team.
With the improvement of the road and the assured ferry service, the Claybanks farmers, whose faces had previously been turned toward Pentwater, could now consider their bustling county seat at Lincoln. Here they were invited to do their "trading", get their grain ground, attend court, enjoy social gatherings and pay their taxes.
In
1861 James Ludington took back the management of the Pere Marquette mill which
Mears had been operating for two years. One writer asserts Mears had been
permitted the use of the mill and timber as a reward for changing the channel.
In
recent years some curiosity has been aroused concerning the history and
personality of the man for whom the city of Ludington was named. It is known
that he was born in Carmel, New York in 1827 and at the age of sixteen came
west to Milwaukee with the large Ludington family.
Frequent
mention is made of him in the pioneer Mason County Record from which one gets
the impression that his business was run efficiently, that he was a man of
culture, and that he was generous in his gifts to the community. Unmarried, he
never established a home in the town. His name never appears in the items of
social gatherings. None of the early residents here seems to have been well
acquainted or to have passed on any anecdotes of business or social contacts
with him. Apparently he held himself aloof and ran the town by remote control
from Milwaukee.
After
Ludington took over, no conspicuous developments in operations connected with
the Pere Marquette mill occurred until the Civil War came to an end. Then the
mill owner branched out on a scale apparently intended to show Charles Mears
what a young saw-mill village should be like.
In
1864 the tiny settlement which was a part of Pere Marquette Township secured a
post office with David Melendy, James Ludington's book-keeper and partner in
the shipping end of the business, as postmaster. The post office was named
Ludington. There is some indication that the name Pere Marquette was not
retained because a post office of similar name, Marquette, had been established
in the northern peninsula.
The
new post office was housed in James Ludington's store building near the mill at
the foot of present-day William Street. Besides the rustic store and boarding
house, a few rude shanties had been built for the mill workers along a wagon
road that wound among pine stumps from the mill to the bayou.
This
"street" bore the nicely descriptive name of Sawdust Avenue. One of
the shanties was used as a school house and here Sarah Melendy, sister of the
postmaster, opened Ludington's first school in the summer of 1865.
The
shanty that served as a school house was also used for the first church
services, though religious gatherings had been held in the homes from the days
of the first white settlers.
In the
fall of 1865 the Pere Marquette circuit of the Methodist Episcopal church was
organized and L. M. Garlick was appointed the first pastor. The circuit included
Riverton, Claybanks, and Pere Marquette, visited one Sunday, and Pere Marquette
Settlement, Bird Settlement (Victory) and Lincoln the next.
For
eight years the Methodist congregation met in school houses and public halls
for their services before they were able to build their first church on the
northeast corner of south Harrison and east Loomis Streets when a frame
structure was erected. The opening of the post office, the school and the
church spelled progress to the little pine woods settlement.
In the
fall of 1865 James Ludington began building in the block that is now the city
park, a spacious, well appointed boarding house for his mill hands. Ox teams
belonging to Charles Dahn of Amber did the excavating, and the beautiful maples
set out on the grounds were transplanted as saplings from the Dahn farm.
An
early history says the boarding house was "equal to a first-class
hotel" and the grounds were "abundantly adorned with choice fruit
and ornamental trees, shrubbery, and a profusion of flowers." The tall
building stood well back in the landscaped grounds, facing Ludington Avenue.
Later
a circular driveway which entered from Main Street (Gaylord Avenue) and from
Lewis Street was opened. An orchard and vineyard were planted back of the
building and, since travelers were accommodated, stables were built for their
horses. The buildings were completed in the spring of 1866.
The
same year saw the completion of the first residence, other than the Sawdust
Avenue shanties, within the limits of Ludington, on the southwest corner of
Ferry and Court Streets. This was the pretentious home of Patrick M. Danaher
who, for a year or more had been getting out logs for James Ludington's mill.
In the fall of that year Danaher brought his wife and eight children here, the
eldest James, a boy of fifteen.
The
Danaher home was the beginning of a neighborhood unique in associations that
created ties of life-long friendships.
The year 1866 also
marked the coming of the Luther H. Foster family. Foster came originally from
the state of Maine, but had been employed by lumbering concerns in Wisconsin
where he met James Ludington.
The
mill owner brought Foster here to look after the outside interests of his
business. Employed by the Foster family was Miss Emily Catalina Mitchell,
daughter of a Port Huron judge who had once been the candidate of the
Prohibition Party for the Presidency of the United States.
She
came as governess for the two young Foster boys, Frank and Edward, and followed
Sarah Melendy as first full-time teacher of the Sawdust Avenue school. Another
arrival that year was a young Civil War veteran, a Milwaukee school teacher,
Frederick J. Dowland, who came here as a bookkeeper for James Ludington.
The
following year both Foster and Dowland built houses. Foster's house still
stands on the northwest corner of Ludington and Gaylord Avenues. Dowland and
Miss Mitchell were married and went to housekeeping in their new home on the
northwest corner of Ferry and Court Streets.
In
1867 James Ludington began city planning on a wide scale. He laid out and named
streets over an area of sand hills, swamps, and creek bottom which now comprise
the first three wards of the city, from Lake Michigan to the bayou. It must
have taken a bit of looking around to find a strip of land high and dry enough
for his business street. He decided on one running north from Pere Marquette
Lake and named it Main Street—the present Gaylord Avenue.
This
stump-littered thoroughfare became lost in the woods about two blocks north of
the principal east-west street, Ludington Avenue. The avenue began at Lake
Michigan and extended two or three blocks east where it was barred by a swamp.
If
Charles Mears had glimpsed the plat of this city on paper he might have raised
his eyebrows slightly when he discovered that the first street north of the
avenue had been named Court Street. Why should there be a Court Street in
Ludington when the county seat was at Lincoln?
The
next street north of Court Street, Pere Marquette, was named in honor of the
Jesuit missionary for whom the township had originally been named and of which
the settlement was a part. North of this street were swamp and woods.
Of the
streets running north and south James Ludington began at the lake and named
what is now Lake Shore Drive, Amelia Avenue after a favorite sister. The next
street east he called Park, probably visioning a recreation area in the neighborhood,
and the next Ferry, since it was a continuation from the channel Ferry. East of
Main Street (Gaylord Avenue) he returned to his plan of using family
names—Lewis, William, Robert, Charles (Rath Avenue), James, Harrison, Rowe,
Delia, and Emily. Brothers, sisters, cousins, and he himself were remembered.
His
lumbermen friends—Loomis, Filer, Foster, Danaher, Melendy and Dowland—must have
smiled at the honor conferred on them by giving their names to streets south of
Ludington Avenue. Only a few expected a lumber town to live after the pine was
cut. Having a street named for one in a saw-mill town was considered at best a
short lived distinction.
Ludington,
having platted his city on paper, began at once to bring it into realization.
After the completion of his large boarding house, he next erected his
"mammoth store" on the southwest corner of Main Street and Ludington
Avenue. Luther Foster was first manager of this new store and Jacob Staffon,
who had come here two years previously and started as clerk in the rustic
Sawdust Avenue store, continued in the new building. Here Dave Melendy moved
the post office.
This
emporium supplied the loggers with equipment and provisions for their
camps—everything from the lumberjack's gaily colored mackinaws and spiked boots
to his peevies and canthooks.
The
homesteader bought his ground-breaking tools here and, as soon as his first
produce was ready to market, bartered his surplus hay and grain and his wife's
earthen-crocked butter and country-fresh eggs for dry groceries. The store
supplied yard goods, boots, shoes, hoop skirts, bustles— an endless list of
goods in demand in those pioneer days.
The
second story of the "mammoth" building, entered by an outside
stairway, was used for public gatherings. The religious meetings which had been
held in the Sawdust Avenue school house now moved to the upstairs over the
store. After Luther Foster had organized here the first Sunday school in the
settlement, James Ludington sent to the school from Milwaukee an organ costing
four hundred fifty dollars.
James
Ludington moved the old Sawdust Avenue store building to Main Street south of
the big store and had it made into two store buildings. The "mammoth"
store became known as the big store and for many years was a land mark. Its
list of employees carries the names of nearly every pioneer family in the city.
During
the building boom of this momentous year of 1867, the first hotel in the
settlement was built on Ludington Avenue east of the boarding house by William
Farrell. It was a spacious building almost as large as its neighbor and served
the needs of the growing community many years. It was known as the Farrell
House, subsequently as the Clinton House, then the Gregory House.
After
more than twenty-five years of service it burned to the ground. About the same time this hotel was built a new schoolhouse
was "built in the woods" on the southwest corner of the present
Ludington Avenue and James Street.
A block
farther east on the southwest corner of the avenue and Harrison Street, William
Kieswalter built a grocery store, but it was so far out in the woods it was
hardly considered a part of Ludington.
The
founder's crowning achievement for that eventful year of progress was the
establishment of a newspaper in his thriving village. George W. Clayton, lean
Yankee veteran of the recent war, came to the settlement on the
"inducement" of James Ludington and built himself a house on the
northeast corner of Ferry and Court Streets. In the second story of this house,
he set up a hand press and began the publication of the Mason County Record
September 17, 1867.
In his
first editorial Clayton announced that the village had a chance of becoming a
leading town on the east shore. One thing he did not say, though it must have
been in his mind, was that Charles Hears would have to think fast and step
lively if he intended to keep the county seat in his slowly growing village of
Lincoln.
Among
the advertisers in the first edition of this newspaper were Dr. E. Doty who had
put up a two-story building on the northwest corner of Main (Gaylord Avenue)
and Court Streets.
Here
on the ground floor was housed Ludington's pioneer drug store, and on the
second floor the law offices of Shubael F. White, the town's first lawyer. One
block north on the southwest corner of Main and Pere Marquette Streets, George
Weimer's boot and shoe shop was established.
These two business places together with the big store and the two small store buildings made from the original Sawdust Avenue store comprised about the extent of Main Street business places. The lots were bought up by those who hoped to make a big profit. The selling price was held too high, and business began locating on Ludington Avenue.
Before
long Clayton's "Mason County Record" was telling the world in
general, but intending that Charles Mears in particular should take notice,
all about Ludington's "large and powerful" mill that employed 150 men
and sawed a hundred thousand feet of lumber daily."
The
harbor was widened and deepened by the government. No longer was it necessary
to carry lumber out into Lake Michigan for loading. Ludington and Melendy sold
the shipping end of the business—the tug Cyclone and the schooner Sinai to
Captain Robert Caswell of Milwaukee who later formed a partnership with Captain
Amos Breinig of Milwaukee.
James Foley became a member of the firm when
they purchased an interest in the historic tug Sport. The tug Margaret replaced
the Cyclone, in turn replaced by the B. W. Aldrich. This towing line was active
in the harbor throughout the lumbering era.
"The
harbor," said the Record, "was the best on the east shore north of
Grand Haven" and "without the shadow of a doubt" the village
would be the western terminus of the Flint and Pere Marquette Railway in
process of building. Mason County had a population of 2500, five hundred of
whom lived in Ludington. Farm land near the village sold for twenty dollars an
acre. Pointing out all these advantages, the Record soon had the question out
in the open. Who could doubt that the county seat belonged in Ludington!
Of the seven county officials holding office in 1867 all were residents of Charles Mears' villages—three of Hamlin and four of Lincoln. Would the citizens of Ludington and the southern part of the county permit this monopoly to continue? The battle was on!
Mears
had no newspaper and certainly gained little space in the Record, but he held
on for several years.
In the campaign of 1868 Mears' candidate for
prosecuting attorney, a man by the name of Harley, was opposed by Shubael F.
White, a spirited campaigner. White won and the "monoply" was broken,
but there was more work to be done before the county seat would be moved.
By the
end of the decade Ludington Avenue had been cleared of stumps and graded three
miles. It began to flourish as a business street. George Tripp opened his meat
market near Robert Street. The Record announced "We learn that the village
of Ludington is to have a new Hotel shortly. Mr. David Wilson is the
proprietor." Goodsell's hardware store was established and Duncan Dewar
built a block of five stores with a hall above on west Ludington Avenue at Park
Street. Paul Pomeroy "completed his new building upon the beach to be
used for the manufacture of his celebrated root beer."
But as a business center, west Ludington Avenue and Main
Street began to decline. The Dewar Block and James Ludington's old stores
became tenement homes with clothes lines full of checkered shirts and calico
dresses flapping in the wind, and the housewives were having curtain trouble
with the store-size windows.
Pere
Marquette Lumber Company
Before
James Ludington realized his objective of having the county seat established in
his namesake village, his health failed. Desiring to be relieved of the cares
of his business here, he organized a new company, retaining only an interest.
Several
of Ludington's former associates became stockholders in the new organization,
among them Colonel John Mason Loomis, his attorney, who looked after
Ludington's interest. The new blood in the corporation was Delos L. Filer and
Edward A. (Gus) Foster, brother of the civic-minded Luther. Filer, president of the company, came here
from Manistee where he owned important lumber interests.
Three
years previously, a widower with four children, he had married a Ludington
girl, Miss Mary Pierce, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Franklin B. Pierce, whose home
was on the northwest corner of Court and Park Streets. The Filer family
established their home in the spacious building that James Ludington had built
for a boarding house, no longer needed for that purpose since David Wilson and
others had erected small hotels which took care of some of the men, and many of
the mill employees had established homes here.
The
Filer house of many rooms, set in its ten-year growth of leafy maples and
orange-berried mountain ash, was too large for the needs of the family, and
they occupied only the rooms on the west end. When the growing town required
this building for hotel purposes, it became known as the Filer House. The
Filers continued to live there. Like her parents, Mrs. Filer was a musician of
ability and prior to her marriage had taught piano in the village.
Foster came here from Muskegon and built a roomy house on the edge of the pine forest which surrounded the town. The house stood in the middle of the block between Park and Ferry Streets, facing Pere Marquette. The six young Fosters were a lively addition to the growing community, and from the beginning this home was a center of social activities.
The Pere Marquette Lumber Company entered actively into a development plan for the tiny lumber hamlet.
With a great deal of real estate among its holdings, the
company inaugurated a give-away program that made land available without cost
to churches and other desirable organizations and at low cost to home builders.
The effort of the company to transform the little sand-hill settlement which
began with one rustic saw-mill and a stump-studded street of rude shanties into
an enterprising lumber town of substantial homes received vigorous encouragement.
The
New England Migration
The
Foster families were among the first of the Yankee lumbermen who followed the
forest west. Both Luther and "Gus" were originally from Maine.
Several families of relatives followed them here from New England.
Joshua
Alien, whose wife was a sister of the Fosters, and their son Eugene established
a factory for turned goods such as curtain rollers and broom handles. When this
factory burned ihey purchased the dock at the foot of Main Street where they
built warehouses. Here they carried on an active and important business during
the lumbering era.
The
passenger steamers of the Engleman and later the Goodrich line—the historic
DePere, the City of Ludington, and the old sidewheeler, the John A. Dix among
them, docked here, as did the big coal sailing ships that came up from Buffalo
once or twice a year, the little Pentwater boat, the harbor tugs, and the tramp
hookers.
Eugene Alien and his sister Fannie (Mrs. Frank N. Latimer) as well as Eugene's wife, Mary Montague Ferry, augmented the considerable group of talented musicians who helped make early Ludington music conscious.
Another
sister of the Fosters, Mrs. Marian Hutchins, widow of a Bowdin College
professor, came here with her two daughters. The older, by a former marriage,
Emma Stanchfield, married James B. McMahon, one of the city's brilliant
lawyers; Charlie, the younger daughter, named for her father who fell in the
Civil War about the time of her birth, married James' brother, Porter McMahon.
All
three women were school teachers here in the sand and sawdust days. Their home
was on the northwest corner of Main (Gaylord Avenue) and Court Streets south of
Dr. Doty's drug store. This house later was moved to 207 North Gaylord Avenue,
and Dr. Doty's drug store was moved to Robert Street.
On the corner where these two buildings stood, was erected
the Victorian mansion prepared for Ed Stanchfield's bride, the vivacious Ellen
(Nell) Woodward of Augusta, Maine. Later the Ed Stanchfields were joined by
Nell's brother, Augustus D.
(Gus) Woodward, for many years connected with the First National Bank. Another
relative, Oliver O. Stanchfield, an attorney, built his home on the southwest
corner of Harrison and Pere Marquette Streets.
This group of New Englanders was long active in business, civic, and religious affairs in the growing city and appreciably influential in its cultural growth. "I was surprised to see so nice a company for Ludington," Mrs. Marshall Brayman, a bride of 1870, wrote in her diary after attending a social at Mrs. Luther Foster's home.
The
lumber industry in Ludington made a notable growth during the 1870's. For more
than twenty years prior to 1870, there had been only the one saw mill on Pere
Marquette Lake, the primitive structure built by Baird and Bean in 1849. This
had grown into James Ludington's "large and powerful mill."
In
1870 the Danaher Melendy Company built a mill on the east end of the lake. The
entire Fourth Ward was a pine forest then, the giant trees growing to the edge
of the water. The firm employed more than fifty men for whom they erected a
large boarding house and several small cottages. They built also near the mill
a warehouse for hay and grain, but continued their general store "down
town" on the northwest corner of Ludington Avenue and Charles Street (Rath
Avenue).
The Ward mills soon followed the Danaher mill. Captain Eber B. Ward, whose parents were natives of Vermont, had come west to Ohio and later settled in Detroit. Starting as a cabin boy on a lower lake schooner, Ward had risen like one of Horatio Alger's heroes. In 1869 he was a wide-scale vessel owner and ship builder, and was president of the Flint and Pere Marquette Railway then under construction.
He possessed vast timber tracts along the Pere Marquette River. In 1870 he acquired two mill sites on Pere Marquette Lake and built the " north mill." The following year he built the " south mill" publicized as "the finest saw mill in the world."
This mill started sawing in 1872 with A. G. Spencer as foreman. The usual three-story boarding house and a row of cottages bordering the lake housed the Ward employees' families. Like James Ludington, Ward operated by remote control sending his son Milton and a man by the name of Bean here to manage the business, with John S. Woodruff as one of the top executives. When Ward died in 1875, Woodruff became manager, for a time, for Ward's widow, Catherine Lyon Ward.
In
1878 a company was formed in which Mrs. Ward's two brothers, John B. and Thomas
R. Lyon, became stockholders with Mrs. Ward. Twenty-four year old Thomas became
manager. From then on as long as the business existed it was conducted by T. R.
Lyon Agt. Woodruff remained as secretary.
Among
other early employees of the firm were Justus S. Stearns who had married Mrs.
Ward's sister, Paulina, and Lucius K. Baker, who maried May, eldest daughter of
the E. A. Fosters. Stearns soon bought a mill of his own in Lake County, but
continued his residence in Ludington in the sightly home which he built on
south Washington Avenue and Fourth Street. The Baker home stood just north of
the Stearns residence. Lyon married the lovable Harriet Rice of Ludington.
The
spacious home where their four children were reared stood on the site of the
present Paulina Stearns Hospital. The popular Woodruff family occupied the
house built for Milton Ward facing Pere Marquette Lake.
With
the increasing demand for lumber prodding the mill owners, the Ward interests
developed a unique method of getting their product to market. Gigantic scows,
each with a capacity of 700,000 feet were loaded with lumber and towed to
Chicago by the large tug, the George £. Brockway, Captain William Courtland. As
a rule one of the scows was loading in Ludington while one was unloading in
Chicago and a third was in transit, but occasionally the Brockway towed two
across the lake.
On one
occasion she delivered a record load of 1,400,000 feet of pine in Chicago. Ward
also owned, among other vessels, the three-masted schooner Conneaut, Captain
Reimer Young, and the two-masted Mars, Captain William Young.
Among
the other historic vessels owned by this pioneer umber company was the Sport,
the first steel tug built on the Great Lakes. She was brought to Ludington from
Detroit in 1874, was later sold to James Foley who sold a third interest in her
to Caswell and Breinig. In the early '90's the Cartier Lumber Company bought
her and she remained in the harbor until the end of lumbering days.
With four saw mills buzzing south of the bayou while the
Pere Marquette Lumber Company buzzed alone on the northside of the lake, Wardtown began to surpass Ludington in
population and buildings. For a time transportation between the two
settlements was mostly by water.
"We
had quite a party go up on the tug," Carrie Brayman wrote in her diary in
reference to a dancing party at the Danaher-Melendy boarding house. But however
desirable water transportation may have been for bulky lumber cargoes-and
groups of young dancers, horse-drawn rigs were indispensable. Stump-studded
wagon trails must be made passable.
John
S. Woodruff, a firm believer in the use of by products, a system later adopted
by meat packers under the slogan, "nothing gets away but the squeal,"
thriftily contracted with the city fathers to lay sawdust on the streets. From
Ward's north mill alone was hauled, for a time, fifty cubic yards of sawdust a
day.
Ludington's
fourth mill was built on the east side of Pere Marquette Lake south of the Ward
mills by Dr. George W. Roby. This mill began operating in 1872 under the
management of James Crowley. Lewis C. Waldo who married Dr. Roby's daughter
Minnie, was secretary of the company and carried on the business for Dr. Roby.
The Waldo family lived in the house at 706 East Ludington Avenue. There were
several young children in the family who were frequently met driving their
burrow and cart over the sawdust streets. "Min" Waldo was a popular
hostess and "Lewie's" tenor voice was welcomed in musical circles.
Pardee
Cook and Company bought the Roby mill. They had purchased the mill and timber
at Hamlin from Charles Mears and had been operating there several years. In
1888 their dam broke and, according to an eye witness, Captain John Stram of
the Au Sauble Lifesaving Station, "washed twenty-three dwelling houses and
as many out houses, barns and about 1,000,000 feet of pine logs into Lake
Michigan ....
There was just enough sea running so the logs knocked the houses all to pieces and washed most of the wreckage ashore here, in front of the station."
The logs were picked up and towed to Ludington by the harbor tugs. The firm's three-masted schooner, the Mary Ellen Cook, lives in local history as the ship that rode the Chicago breakwater in a furious storm.
Pardee, Cook and Company's lumber operations in Ludington
were in charge of Will Cook, a handsome young man who drove beautiful horses. His popular
wife and their two little girls, brunette Mary Ellen and blond Rosa Belle, were
socially and neighborly active.
The family moved to California when the mill finished its cut here in 1892.
In
1873 Oliver N. Taylor bought a half interest in a mill on "the
island," the narrow strip of sand dunes between the present channel and
the site of the old channel. In 1888 Taylor became sole owner and operated the
mill until their pine was exhausted. The usual saw mill village sprang up
around the mill to flourish and die. Only its ghost, suggested by a few rotting
piles of the pier, remains.
The
daughters of O. N. Taylor, Lillian (Mrs. Cornelius D. ("Con")
Danaher) and Lulu (Mrs. Edward Freeman) were socially prominent and admired for
their graceful and intelligent horsemanship. The son of the family, William
S., married Ida Cartier, daughter of the Antoine E. Cartiers. Other Taylor children
by a second marriage were still young when the mill closed here and the family
moved to new lumbering areas near Brunswick, Georgia.
The mill on the south side of Pere Marquette Lake is remembered as the Butters and Peters' Lumber Company. Horace U. Butters, a native of Maine, had been active in the logging branch of the lumber business when he came to Mason County in the late sixties. Stewart Holbrook, in his lusty history of the lumber jack, "Holy Old Mackinaw", lauds Butters' contribution to the lumber industry—inventions which eased the work of the loggers and were used wherever logging was done on a wide scale. Butters brought his wife and eight children here to the house at 206 North Park Street.
The eldest son, Marshall F. Butters, married the gracious Maggie Arnott, one of the five socially active Arnott girls whose father was first agent of the recently completed Flint and Pere Marquette Railway (1874).
Butters and his son began operations at Tallman in eastern Mason County. With R. G. Peters of Manistee they bought the mill on the south side of Pere Marquette Lake of Cartier and Filer previously owned by Foster and Stanchfield. This mill had been built in 1872 by Vahue, Hustis and Company, partners of D. L. Filer whose son, Frank, had possession of the property when the partnership with Antoine E. Cartier was formed.
When Butters and Peters bought the mill the Butters family moved across the little lake to the spacious brick house built by Judge Samuel D. Haight. This fine residence in its beautiful setting of about forty acres sloping to the lake had been the bachelor estate of Frank Filer. Here he had indulged his fondness for fine horses.
The
likable Butters family attended Ludington public schools and took an active
part in church and social affairs. Several of the boys married Ludington girls
and reared families here.
At one
time Buttersville was a thriving mill village of three hundred inhabitants.
Besides lumber, the firm manufactured lath, shingles and after 1885 salt,
coopering their own barrels and shipping their products in their own barge, the
Marshall F. Butters, Captain William J. Carter, later Captain John McClure.
This
company also owned their own narrow-gauge railroad, named the Mason and Oceana,
which brought in logs from as far south as Walkerville. Today like Taylorville,
only a few decaying dock piles are left to mark the site of this once
prosperous lumbering town.
Antoine
E. Cartier, the last of the early lumbermen to locate here, brought his family
to Ludington from Manistee in 1878. The hospitable Cartier home filled with
lively young people-eight of them was established at 501 East Ludington Avenue.
After dissolving the partnership of Cartier and Filer, A. E. Cartier purchased
a mill at the foot of James Street which had been built and operated for a time
by William Alien and George Goodsell.
The
Cartier-Filer store was on the northeast corner of Charles (Rath) Street and
Ludington Avenue. Like the P. M. Danaher family, the Cartier family has given
the city three mayors, the father and two sons of each family having held that
office.
These eight mills operated throughout the lumbering era. Other than the sale of the Roby mill to Pardee, Cook and Company, there were few changes until Justus S. Stearns bought Ward's north mill in the late nineties.
Shingle mills, planing mills, and kindred factories flourished and changed hands or suspended operations as conditions improved or changed. Among these shingle mills were those of Moulton and Flagg, who also operated at Pentwater, one near Taylor's mill owned by Col. John M. Loomis and operated by Michael J. Danaher, and Foster and Stanchfield. Warbrocheck and Farrel and later Haskell Brothers operated planing mills.
Another allied industry was the woodenware factory of Henry B. ("Bert") Smith at the Fourth Ward Bridge, generally spoken of as the pin mill since among its products was clothes pins. All these pay rolls meant a growing town. By the end of the seventies Ludington and Wardtown which had become the Fourth Ward of the city had a population nearing seven thousand.
Ludington
Becomes the County Seat 1873
The
business and bustle created by the increasing number of mills (there were four)
brought forth withering comparisons between thriving Ludington and Charles Mears'
one-mill village of Lincoln. Mears' mill might hum as noisily as any in
Ludington, his spacious store might be selling as prosperously, his
white-washed buildings might be standing up as neatly, his fleet of schooners
might be sailing as frequently, but his village had been outclassed. The county
seat should be in Ludington.
The
battle continued to be fought verbally in the pages of the Mason County Record
and in places where men congregated to discuss local politics. Discussion had
gained momentum each year since Shubael White had broken Mears' monopoly of the
ticket in the election in 1868.
Now
five years later, according to the Record "the Board of Supervisors took
an important step in the interest of the county by adoption of a Resolution ...
to submit to the people, at the spring election, the question of the removal of
the County Seat to Ludington. It has for a long time been a conceded fact . . .
that this step was only a question of time, and a thing which was sure to be
accomplished."
Various inducements to bring the county seat to Ludington had been offered by local patriots. The Record had announced in December of the previous year that "Mr. James Ludington, in view of the fact that his name was chosen for our prospective city had donated $5000, $2500 of which is to be used for County Buildings, provided the County seat shall be removed to this place."
Among other inducements was a choice of lots "in the northerly part of the proposed city limits" by William Quevillon. Charles E. Resseguie offered a block of land in his addition kitty corner from the site selected for the new Union schoolhouse, now the Longfellow building.
The Pere Marquette Lumber Company proposed the erection of a two-story library building, the lower story to be used for a library and the second story for county offices and courtroom as well as for a city council room for which James Ludington would give $5000; D. L. Filer, $1000; John Mason Loomis, $1000; and the company a suitable location.
The county would be permitted the use of the company's hall in the big store building until other buildings were provided. This offer is probably an effort to use James Ludington's $5000 offer, add the other gifts to it, and combine county and city buildings. This appears to be the best offer of the group, and nothing in the newspaper explains why it was not accepted.
It must be remembered, however, that Ludington had not received its charter yet and that the "city" had not been officially named. It is possible James Ludington wished to keep his county and city donations separate until his requirements had been met. Later editions of the newspaper indicate he paid the $2500 for county buildings, but local tradition persists that he never paid the city, though his name was taken for the city.
When the election results showed the county seat would be moved to Ludington, the Resseguie offer was accepted, and the first court house built at a cost of $6000 east of the present county jail. Until this building was ready, the county used the hall over the big store.
At the
dedication of the new court house in 1874, the pioneer supervisor William
Freeman was chosen chairman. Shubael White, Circuit Judge of the district, gave
the address. E. Nelson Fitch, Samuel D. Haight, Harrison H. Wheeler, and
another pioneer lawyer by the name of Ewell, all gave congratulatory addresses.
The
idolized Luther H. Foster reviewed the hard-fought battles that had resulted in
the removal of the county seat to Ludington. Present were Mason County's new Board
of Supervisors': Amber, W. A. Bailey; Branch, Benjamin F. Barnett; Grant,
William Freeman; Hamlin, N. S. Bird; Lincoln, Jeremiah Collins; Pere Marquette,
S. S. Brooks; Sherman, J. G. Law; Summit, W. H. Foster; Victory, Marion Abbey;
Ludington, 1st Ward, F. F. Hopkins; 2nd Ward, Benjamin J. Goodsell; 3rd Ward,
A. A. Maxim; 4th Ward, George W. Roby.
Ludington
Becomes A City
Ludington
received its charter in 1873 and the first city election was held Monday, April
7, of that year. The first officials elected were: Mayor, Charles Resseguie;
Recorder, William F. Kenfield; Treasurer, Samuel D. Haight; Attorney, E. Nelson
Fitch; Surveyor, G. S. Johnson; Marshal, John Davidson; Justices of the Peace,
Levi Shackelton, George Westcott, Charles Eggleston, James N. Henry; Aldermen,
1st Ward, George E. Tripp, Peter Anderson; 2nd Ward, Fayette Johnson, L. T.
Southworth; 3rd Ward, Robert Davidson, William Tolles; 4th Ward, Dennis
Carroll, James Crowley.
The first session of the common council was held the following evening at the "commodious and convenient City Hall," a frame building on the northwest corner of Charles (Rath Avenue) and Court Streets. The first financial statement of the city treasurer bore a significant entry: Receivable from James Ludington $2500.
By the
early seventies the intelligentsia of the thriving young city had been gathered
into a literary society. Their sessions were reported in the early newspapers,
and their public entertainments filled "every available seat" in whatever
hall it was given. Readings, debates and essays were popular. "Miss Jennie
Frye read 'The Lost Steamship.' Dr. Philip P. Shorts 'read an essay.' C. G.
Wing 'said something about Shakespeare.'"
In a
discussion as to what was the most useful invention of the age Luther H. Foster
claimed the highest place for soap, and Fred Dowland held for the common sewing
needle. And, as always at their meetings, "a good time was had by all.
" One of the objectives of the society was to establish a public library.
Donations
of books from citizens gave the library a start, and from Milwaukee James
Ludington sent a check for $100 with which to buy books. For a time the
association occupied a small building, just south of the big store, which had
been built to house the Eber B. Ward clerical force during the building of the
Ward mills.
The
year following the chartering of the city, steps were taken to erect a library
building. Delos L. Filer, president of the Pere Marquette Lumber Company, was
also president of the library association. In the name of the lumber company he
offered the association a site on Ludington Avenue and lumber for the building
on condition that the common council appropriate for that purpose the $2,500
receivable from James Ludington.
The council did so, but the library was not
built. From an early report we have the terse statement, "The matter was
dropped." This is all the written record gives, but oral tradition, handed
down in many pioneer families, insists that James Ludington refused to pay the
money.
There were those who believed that not enough consideration had been given in bestowing upon the city the name of Ludington instead of Pere Marquette, especially after the money promised by James Ludington was not forthcoming. No doubt the apathy was general; few cared because most lumber towns died after the mills finished their cut of pine.
When choosing the name was under discussion in the council, one man declared he would rather name the place after a live dog than a dead lion. Only one dissenting vote was cast, and the name Ludington was chosen. Thus the live lumberman triumphed over the dead missionary, and the city waited many years for a library building. Some one expressed it: "The city sold her birthright for a mess of pottage."
Until
late in 1874 travelers from distant points coming to Ludington (Pere Marquette)
could take no railroad that would bring them nearer than Grand Haven. In early
days Charles Mears' lumber vessels had brought workmen and land-hungry settlers
to his east shore settlements.
After
the Pere Marquette harbor had been opened at the present site and deepened to
accommodate larger craft, a steam-ship passenger route was opened from
Milwaukee to Manistee with stops at Grand Haven, Pentwater and Ludington. The
historic Joe Barber, the Messenger and the Manistee of the Engleman line were
among the steamers. There was also a horse-drawn stage route up the shore from
Grand Haven.
Prior
to 1870 Eber B. Ward, president of the railroad, building out of Flint "to
an undetermined east shore point," visited this part of the state. The
astute editor of the Mason County Record who had announced shortly after Ward's
visit that "without the shadow of a doubt" Ludington (Pere Marquette)
would be the western terminus of the railroad, was absolutely right. The new
road was named the Flint and Pere Marquette.
As the
building of the railroad progressed the Record kept its readers informed
regarding grading, laying of rails and ties as well as other developments. But,
as construction neared completion, the pages of the newspaper announced no
elaborate celebration. From Charles G. Wing's reminiscences comes the story:
"In November of 1874, when the F. and P. M. railroad was nearly completed
to Ludington, Governor John J. Bagley came over the line on a tour of
inspection . . . (he) received the most distinguished mark of attention
Ludington could show.
He rode to and from his railroad car in the
only covered carriage up to that time ever owned within the borders of Mason
County. Mr. (D. L.) Filer's black carriage horses conveyed him about town and
he was kept overnight as a guest of the Filer residence which was in the center
of the present city park." The first regular passenger train entered Ludington
December 6, 1874.
Trans lake freight business developed with the coming of the railroad. The old side-wheeler John Sherman carried package and break-bulk freight the first year between Ludington and Milwaukee.
Then the business was handled by the Goodrich Transportation Company carrying passengers as well as freight. In 1882 the railroad company began building their own steamers.
Public
school education in Ludington took a forward step in 1875 when the school board
employed as superintendent, John N. Foster of Lansing.
The
crude Sawdust Avenue school house where the aristocratic Sarah Melendy and the
gentle Catalina Mitchell (Mrs. Fred Dowland) had opened up the world of
knowledge to the resisting youth of the community, housed the typical district
school of retarded boys, spelling bees and McGuffey Readers.
Mrs.
Dowland told of finding live frogs in her desk (compliments of Peter Glassmire,
prominent Manistee attorney in later years). Items in the Record indicate the
school was like many others that became famous in song and story.
One of
the pioneer women teachers was obliged to go to the school board for help in
disciplining the big boys. One teacher decided to give an "exhibit,' and
visitors were mildly startled at some of the information given by the
"scholars:"
"Teacher: What state do you live in?
Little
Girl: British America.
Teacher: What is the capital of this state?
Another
Little Girl: Maine.
Teacher: Who ruled this country 99 years ago?
Third Little Girl: The Pere Marquette Lumber Company."
Since
the lumber industry moved here from New England, close neighbors to
"British America," and many Ludington residents of that day came from
Maine, and for years the Pere Marquette Lumber Company was the only large industry
here, one must admit the little girls were developing powers of observation.
Of
such was District 3 of Pere Marquette Township which embraced the same
territory that is now included in Union District 1 of the City of Ludington.
John N. Foster the first superintendent came to Ludington directly from the Reform School at Lansing, later the State Industrial School, where for two years he had been assistant superintendent. Discipline held an important place in the educational set up of that day. Mr. Foster's first report published at the close of the school year in 1876 gives his clear-cut ideas of the requirements of a public school system.
In reviewing the work of the previous year he stressed the
fact that resort to corporal punishment—many an unruly boy of that year
remembered it not resentfully as the soundest thrashing he ever received in his
life had occurred only in extreme cases. There had been 3000 cases of tardiness
during the year and Foster promised to do something about that. He had instituted
a system of grading.
The
high school had been accredited to some higher institutions of learning, but
not the state university which required an additional year of study. The
library of 35 volumes would soon begin to grow under his expert guidance.
"Prof." Foster had prepared his first class here for graduation when
Luther H. Foster was assassinated. The commencement exercises were postponed
(Foster was a member of the school board) and never took place.
The
shocking murder of Luther Foster brought benumbing tragedy to the peaceful
little town as well as to the school. Awakening in the night to find a prowler
in their room, Mrs. Foster heard her husband exclaim, "You rascal! "
The intruder fled and Foster, grasping a revolver, followed. Under a young maple
at the corner of Main (Gaylord Avenue) and Court Streets, the burglar fired,
and Foster dropped. Mrs. Foster, who had followed her husband, found him still
breathing, but he died in her arms unable to speak. The crime remains unsolved.
Foster
had led in every movement for the good of the community. Other than his city
school board activities he had organized the first Sunday School in the town
and played the organ for its services, had helped establish both the Congregational
and the Presbyterian churches, had led in the Temperance movement and had been
superintendent of county schools. It is fitting that one of the Ludington
school buildings as well as one of its residential streets is named in his
honor.
John
N. Foster, for all his severity—a quality not disapproved in a school man of
the 1870's—was an educator of high rank and accomplishment. Ludington schools
progressed during his superintendency. He set for them a standard that demanded
progress. With Luther Foster and other education-minded men on the board, the
schools moved forward under the first superintendent 's efforts. Testing them
by the leadership they produced, the schools of the seventies were excellent.
It is conceded that Ludington has background and individuality; it is not just another revived sawmill town. No less a historian than Milo M. Quaife in his book "Lake Michigan" of the American Lake series comments that Ludington's lumbering days, in striking contrast to those of the usual sawdust town, were relatively calm and respectable. He suggests that both the benign influence of the saintly Pere Marquette and the cultural standards of James Ludington may have had their effect on the community.
Undoubtedly
Ludington had its skid row of a sort. Drunken brawls and street fights were
frequent enough, and the town had a red-light district. But no prominent
novelist so far has singled out lumber-day Ludington as a locale for the
familiar skid row story. The town's lumber jacks were likely not the right type
for such literature.
For
the most part they were young men of the community who worked in the woods in
winter and in the mills during the summer. An illustration comes from the Mason
County Record: "Last Saturday evening a pleasant little gathering met at
the Farrell Hotel and amused themselves by a few hours' dancing after which a
good Oyster Supper was had. This was a farewell party given to a number of our
young men who were upon the eve of going into the woods for the winter."
From
the columns of the city's first newspapers may be gathered items that indicate
the cultural activities of early Ludington absorbed the interest of a large
number of its people. Four or five amusement halls were required for entertainment
in the seventies. On the northwest corner of Ludington Avenue and James Street
stood Temperance Hall.
The
Clark building on the northwest corner of the avenue and Robert Street
accommodated on its upper floor the Masonic and Odd Fellows' lodges. The
pioneer Dewar hall on west Ludington Avenue at Park Street was used for dancing
and school entertainments.
The
upstairs of the big store of the Pere Marquette Lumber Company was available
for church, lodge and other public gathering and the "commodious"
City Hall on the northwest corner of Charles (Rath Avenue) and Court Streets
had a room large enough to house social gatherings.
"Moral Dramas" and Minstrel Shows were frequently given by home talent; concerts and literary programs were produced. The outstanding entertainment of the sawdust seventies was "The Great Opening of Staffon's Opera House" when the Ludington Musical Union presented the oratorio of " Esther, the Beautiful Queen." Authentic costumes secured from professional wardrobe makers were placed on exhibition in store windows to increase interest in the production. The cast was supported by a chorus of fifty voices and a five-piece orchestra.
That a tiny saw mill community of less than 1000 people
had the talent to produce and the following to appreciate such an ambitious
entertainment should add evidence to the claim that the town was not the sort often pictured as being taken apart by
roaring, roistering lumber jacks.
An
item in the Ludington Appeal, the city's second newspaper, stated December 1,
1878, "We are informed that a life-saving station is to be erected near
Sweet and Taylor's mill." In the Mason County Record of December 5 of the
succeeding year the following appeared: "The life-saving station is now
completed. It is a neat little building 36 by 22 feet, one and a half stories
high. It is built on piles on the edge of Pere Marquette Lake, just north of M.
J. Danaher's shingle mill; the lower floor contains a boat room and a kitchen.
From the boat room runs, to the water's edge,
an apron on which to draw up the boat when not in use. The floor of the boat
room slopes to the apron. The boats are to be pulled up by aid of a small reel.
In the upper story are three rooms, two bedrooms and the men's sitting
room." Later the station was moved to the site of the present Coast Guard
buildings.
The
station at Big Point Sauble had been established in 1876. The nearest one south
was at Little Point Sauble. These were supplied with hand powered surf boats,
beach apparatus, wreck gun and restoratives.
They
were staffed by men who worked largely for the love of adventure and not for
the money in the job. Often volunteers were called. At first the keepers
received only $200 a year, in the seventies raised to $400.
Their
log books report drills "with surfboat, whip line, hawser and breeches
buoy," mention the crew's fighting a fire in the city with a force pump
and record the passing of 48 schooners and 14 steamers past the station in one
day.
Heroic
rescues were logged in matter-of-fact figures of dimension of boat, number on
board and hours required. The friendly crew welcomed visitors in fair weather
and explained paraphernalia.
From the first Ludington has been proud of the courageous men who have served in what is now known as the Coast Guard. Some of the most honored names in local marine history have appeared on the rolls of the life-saving crews.
In the summer of 1893, the Ludington crew, under Captain Charles Tuft, later a member of the state senate from Mason County, was stationed at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago as the most efficient crew on Lake Michigan. Later they were sent to the Cotton Exposition at Atlanta, Georgia.
The
Elegant Eighties
Whatever of elegance there may have been elsewhere, there was little in the Ludington of sand and sawdust days that could be described by the fashionable adjective of the decade. The scum-covered, mosquito-breeding swamps had been but partially conquered, and on the higher ground flea-infested sand dunes spilled into the streets.
In the outlying areas of the town, plank sidewalks bordered by rank weeds, were shaded sparsely by scrawny, pine-boxed, maple saplings in various stages of growth. The beach was strewn with discarded butts of saw logs, planks and edgings refuse from the mills that had been gathered into booms, towed into the big lake, then loosed and permitted to float ashore. Yards were crowded with out buildings barns, privies, fuel-sheds, chicken coops, and occasionally a pig-sty.
Cows roamed at large, pasturing on the stump-littered commons and along the side streets, in search of grass. Manure piles flourished in the alleys where flies swarmed triumphantly.
Typhoid
and malaria, often at epidemic stage, plagued the town. Cholera morbus took
innumerable babies, and diphtheria epidemics terrorized the parents of young
children. The germ theory of disease was new, and fumigation with sulphur and
the occasional use of carbolic acid as an antiseptic were about as far as the
medical profession had gone in the matter of controlling the spread of disease.
Flies and mosquitoes had not come under suspicion.
The intersection of Ludington Avenue and James Street had become the business center, Main Street having been given over to residential purposes, though the Big Store which for a time enjoyed a wide patronage attracted by the clever advertising of its manager, Herman N. Morse, carried on in its original location for awhile.
Business streets were lined with frame, two-story or false-front buildings with an occasional modest brick structure. Streets were unlighted except by a few privately maintained post lamps, and after-dark shoppers carried lanterns. The Big Store for a time attracted evening trade by means of a locomotive headlight placed to brighten west Ludington Avenue.
Show windows were kerosene-lighted, and drug stores
adhered to their ancient custom of dyed liquid in huge bottles for colorful
night window dressing. Plank walks in the down-town area were made wide since merchants believed in
outdoor displays.
Over
hanging signs and awnings swayed and rattled in the wind. Cigar-store Indians
and red-and-white barber poles were familiar business signs. Saloon doors and
windows were shuttered.
Winter
silenced the mills and closed navigation. Only one industry flourished during
the freezing weather. Then the little lake, except near the channel, froze
completely over, and up near the bayou crews toiled at getting out the summer
supply of ice for the town's refrigerators.
Cut in
huge blocks the ice was packed in sawdust and stored in warehouses from which
it was delivered by horse and wagon in twenty-pound cakes during the hot days
of summer. Under the impression that ice was pure because it was frozen, it was
chipped to cool the drinking water and lemonade that quenched the young city's
summer thirst.
Not
many bragged of good health in those days and the sale of "patent
medicines" flourished—Hood's Sarsaparilla, Paine's Celery Compound, St.
Jacob's Oil, and an endless list of "bitters" meant to abolish the
abominable ague.
Home
life was ordinarily wholesome, hospitable, and, because of many large families,
generally lively. These not-so-elegant eighties were the days of big meals, the
hired girl, summer visitors, and Society spelled with a capital S.
Breakfast, dinner at noon, and the six o'clock supper were built on a base of meat, potatoes and bread and butter. Buckwheat cakes with maple syrup formed a favorite winter breakfast combination.
When the family began to get buckwheat rash it was time to change to boiled potatoes and creamed cod fish. Ham or bacon and eggs were year-round staples except when the hens were molting. Peter LaBelle delivered beef by the quarter to many families in winter, and George Tripp sold round steaks for ten cents, the whole steak, not just a pound.
Salads were not considered important; green vegetables
were not available all the year. Celery was shipped in for Thanksgiving,
occasionally for the later holidays, and sometimes a winter radish was
available. Cabbage, carrots, rutabagas and beets were stored in cellar bins for
the winter, and cole slaw
appeared on the table often, but raw carrots were not popular. Kitchens were
always redolent of pies, cakes, and cookies coming from the ovens of
wood-fueled ranges. In many homes flour was bought by the barrel, and "dry
groceries "such as sugar, rice, beans and even tea and coffee were sold in
bulk, since packaging remained to be developed as people learned more about
disease germs.
Fruit
canning, especially the "preserves" in which as much sugar as fruit
went into the glass containers, was the chief culinary accomplishment and pride
of many housewives. Vegetable canning came later with the invention of the
pressure cooker.
That
most families "ate well" in those days of epidemics probably gave
them the resistance that kept them alive.
We
have nothing now like the hired girl of that era. Today she is the maid or one
of the staff, or mother's helper—the latter recently changed to baby sitter. In
earlier days she was a combination of several of these with the reservation
that baby tending in the days of large families was no sitting job. Even then
the term hired girl was not quite satisfactory.
Some of those who employed her referred to here as a servant or domestic. She seemed different to various families because there were so many kinds of families.
The
hired girl was frequently foreign born. Immigration was less restricted in the
eighties and labor was imported to furnish man power for lumber camps and
mills.
As a
rule the first money saved by these men was sent back to "the old
country" and used to bring their families here. The next step often was to
begin saving money for a farm. One or two daughters in the family could
generally be spared to earn additional money. A desire to learn English
and escape the isolation of the farm induced the girls to seek the privileges
of the town. Since no factories employing women existed, the girls went into
homes eager to receive their help.
In pre-appliance days when all housework was done the hard way, extra help was a necessity in many homes. The girls' wages were seldom more than three dollars a week. In some homes she was expected to "keep her place," in others she was "one of the family." Whichever atmosphere prevailed, many of these homes were richer for their contact with this sterling element in the community.
From these girls children gathered a bit of foreign
language, learned some of the folk lore of the countries from which these girls came, acquired skill in
copying their native lace patterns, and gained something of the culture of a
foreign land. All of this valuable material went into the melting pot that
helped produce Ludington.
Society
enjoyed dancing and attended the "theatre," entertained with pink
teas and card parties, and observed the code of calls religiously. A large
dancing party was a ball, a small one a hop. Low-neck gowns were frowned upon,
and ladies' ankles were not exposed. Courtly manners were observed in the ball
room. No lady danced more than twice with the same gentleman unless engaged to
him, and she never walked across the ball-room floor unescorted.
Card parties were evening affairs. The Ludington Record of February 26,1885 reported: "Progressive euchre has struck this poor town at last. And yet they who indulged in a sweet racket say they spent a pleasant evening . . . This is the nature of the game." After explaining at length how euchre was played the item continued "the one remaining longest at the booby table is made the butt for all the jokes of the evening. This is progressive euchre."
The
decade fostered the "ten-twenty-thirties." Billboards down town
proclaimed that Hazel Kirke or East Lynne or Lady Audley's
Secret was coming, and the arrival was eagerly awaited. If Uncle Tom's
Cabin played at the "Opera House" down James Street there was a
parade with "blood hounds."
The
minstrel shows also gave noon-day parades with band music. Shakespeare's plays
were not infrequent and often well played despite the limitations of the crude
stage and ridiculous scenery. Sometimes a troupe with a week's repertoire gave
a different show every night. The actor's put up at the Filer House, and some
of the townspeople met them and said they were "real nice." They
weren't supposed to be. Several of the churches condemned dancing, card-playing
and theatre-going as works of the devil, and their members were forbidden to
attend such gatherings.
The
original meaning of pink tea was weak tea, but it came to apply to an afternoon
gathering of ladies at which the color predominated in decorations and ice
cream. The fad spread to other colors than pink until the ice cream makers were
put to it to find ways of coloring their product.
Formal calls were
made promptly on
new comers, and etiquette required that the calls be returned within two weeks. A
lady left two of her husband's cards and one of her own on the tray on the hat
rack in the hall.
New
Year's Day calling prevailed throughout the decade. Ladies who decided to
"receive" announced in the newspapers the hours they would be
"At Home." Refreshments were served and occasionally some such form
of entertainment as dancing was provided. The gentlemen generally drove in sleighs
from one house to another and left specially printed "Happy New Year"
cards.
Temperance
Movement
The
Temperance Movement had passed from the hands of the Good Templars to the
Women's Christian Temperance Union. Saloons were fairly well regulated. The W.
C. T. U. with their slogan "For God and Home and Native Land" carried
a column in one of the local newspapers acquainting the public with the
progress of their work. Their oratorical contests were well attended and
emotionally satisfying. Nearly all church women were active in the movement.
Children
looked forward to the Sunday-school picnic in summer and the concert and tree
at Christmas time. When a bit older they would attend choir practice and church
socials where they played games and ate hot biscuits with maple syrup, or
strawberries with cake, or oyster soup with doughnuts, according to the season.
The church supper combined with the yearly bazaar was a huge meal at which
layer cakes predominated.
Home
talent entertainments were frequent and well attended as were magic lantern
shows.
A large enough group could be depended upon to support a lecture course, though more than lectures were included—jubilee singing, concerts and, most popular of all, elocution, the name by which we refer today to readings or impersonations.
Fashions
in Dress
Fashion wise, the
era of the eighties has been called the Mauve Decade. The Red Flannel Decade would probably have been a more appropriate name. A
modern version of sack cloth and ashes, an undergarment worn by men as well
as women, long-sleeve and ankle-length, was donned about the first of November
and clung (literally, for flannel was shrinkable material) until the first of
May. Besides its warmth-giving qualities, red flannel was credited with a curative,
or at least malady-preventive, value.
Most
men were bewhiskered—burnsides, beard, or fringe cut. Though black broadcloth,
"plug" hat, and gold-headed cane set the standard in gentleman's
attire, few occasions in Ludington required such elegance. Business suits,
tailored to measurement and trim with stiff-bosom, high-collar shirts, were
supplied by several efficient shops, among them John Gebhart's and F. M.
Ashbacker's. Peter Mendelson's clothing store had supplied ready-to-wear suits
from the early seventies.
Men wore high boots, often made to order. Groening's shoe shop "at the sign of the golden boot" was long a land mark on south James Street.
In the
red plush photograph album, long the chief exhibit on the marble-top center
table of the eighties, and from the pages of the Delineator, the modern
fashion magazine which was rapidly pushing Godey's publication into the
background, the feminine form divine was imitating the lines and proportions of
the hour glass.
The
corset was one compound curve after another produced by whale bones and a heavy
cloth known as drilling. The bustle was a contraption of this same sturdy
material stuffed with that strange device, excelsior, reinforced with a wire
coil. The bustle was fastened about the lady's waist with a belt and buckle.
The "hoops" which had extended the skirts of Civil War days had
gradually diminished in size and were on their way out.
Ladies
underwear was not lingerie in the eighties. The lady of that day referred to
her undergarments as "unmentionables," if she referred to them at
all, and she would have blushed furiously if they had been spoken of in mixed
company. Yet they, especially the trousseau, were works of art, remarkable for
their fine material and the fullness thereof. Nainsook, lawn, and muslin were
used, and the fine stitchery and embroidery were done by hand with a cambric
needle.
Accessories was a word not used in the fashion vocabulary
of the period, yet certain things "went with" a lady's costume. The
parasol of pastel color, ruffled or lace trimmed, and the fan of gauze, lace,
or feathers were never underestimated. The lace trimmed handkerchief was
carried on every occasion, since paper had not replaced it. In milady's
reticule was likely to be found a tiny glass bottle with a gold or silver top, containing smelling salts, and
known as a vinaigrette.
A perfect lady fainted occasionally and the salts revived her.
The
gown of this period was a marvelous creation of pleats, puffs, panniers,
panels, and passamenterie. If used "for best" it was very likely made
of black silk, " so stiff it would stand alone," fitted "as if
she were molded into it."
Into
this young city of sand and sawdust, fleas and flies, bearded men and bustled
women, the new decade opened in disaster. The town was smitten by a diphtheria
epidemic and the "big fire." As long as they lived terror rose in the
hearts of parents who recalled the grief-filled days of the early eighties.
Some
had lost as many as four children within a few hours. For months schools were
closed, families were quarantined, and all other precautions known to the
medical profession were taken, but the epidemic raged out of hand. Dr. G. O.
Switzer, who came here directly from medical school to assist Dr. Philip P.
Shorts, estimated that two hundred school children died.
Yellow flags marking the houses where the disease had entered, and black crepe streamers floating from the doors of homes from which little victims had "gone," waved in triumph week after week as if disease and death were celebrating a holiday. At the peak of the disaster in the winter of 1881 the ground froze so hard, and snow drifts piled so high that burials could not be made in the cemetery; shallow graves were made in the home yard.
In March as the ground thawed, funeral processions began to move toward the cemetery, and day after day despairing parents followed their dead from their door yards to their family burial plots. Physicians believed the disease was a cold-weather problem, and that warm weather would of itself stop the raging scourge. But early June found the epidemic still out of hand.
Children were still quarantined in their yards when the
big fire broke out on June 11, 1881. A circus was in town that day and the
parade had started from the lot on Main Street (Gaylord Avenue) south of the
Big Store when fire started in a bakery on the north side of Loomis Street
between Charles (Rath Avenue) and James Streets.
The
only fire protection the mushroom town possessed was a few wells dug in the
streets and a few force pumps, some privately owned. A brisk wind was blowing,
and despite the efforts of all the able bodied men in town, circus performers
among them, the flames wiped out the principal business section, bounded
roughly by Loomis, Charles, Court and Harrison Streets, and at some points
spread into the residential sections.
Stocks
and furnishings were hastily carted to vacant lots. Children broke quarantine
and ran wild while busy housewives made ready their spare rooms to accommodate
their burned out neighbors. By night fall the flames were under control. By
morning relaxation had begun its healing work and drays began hauling building
material to vacant lots. Within a week brick blocks began to rise on the sites
of primitive frame buildings, and a fine new business section began to rise
from the ashes of early Ludington.
A
water system was under construction when the big fire occurred, but the work
had not progressed far enough for the system to be of any use. In early
December of 1880, six months preceding the great catastrophe, a fire had
occurred that destroyed the Central House and Phalen House, two small hotels on
South James Street.
With
great difficulty hand engines owned in the neighborhood had pumped water from
wells and saved the adjoining property. From this disaster grew demands for
better fire protection. The organization of the Ludington Water Supply Company
followed.
In
March of 1881 work began on the project with Nelson J. Gaylord as superintendent,
and on the southwest corner of West Ludington Avenue and Park Street a brick
building was erected to house the pumping machinery. Both the intake pipe and
the sewage disposal pipe connected with the channel. Hydrants for which an
annual rental of eighty dollars each was charged were installed throughout the
city. The completion of the system gave the townspeople a feeling of security
they had never before enjoyed.
Important as was fire protection, this aspect was overshadowed
by the amazing effects of the water system on the appearance of the city. The
possession of running water and a sewage system ushered in a series of projects
that marked the eighties as a decade of civic progress. The Ludington Record of May 3, 1883 noted: "Grading and sodding
lots in all parts of the city has been carried on for the past two weeks to the
great improvement of the city's general appearance.
Scores
of shade trees have been planted at the same time and will add much in beauty
to the city's appearance." Whirling sprinklers throughout the city
reflected rainbows on the recently sodded lawns as the newly available water
was put to use. To protect these lawns cows were
no longer permitted to run at large. Down came the unsightly fences. Gradually
all live stock was banished and the cow sheds disappeared from the back yards.
The
water system also ushered in the tin bath tub, and an era of house remodeling
began to arrange for the bath room. Soon the little Johns together with the
lattice work that had partly concealed some of them began to disappear. The
gingerbread type of architecture became popular, and scroll-saw-tortured
towers, turrets, cupolas, bay windows and porches blossomed on houses
throughout the city.
William
G. Fortune who had been the first to build his home north of the ravine,
pioneered a new residential section as that area began to take shape in blocks
of new homes, and Charles, James, Harrison and Rowe Streets were bridged across
the gully. East Ludington Avenue became the fashionable residential street, the
show place of the city.
Inside
the homes the base-burner, mica-window, coal stove was replaced by the hot air
furnace or steam and hot water heating systems. Golden oak and red plush
furniture crowded out the early Victorian walnut and black horse-hair pieces.
Upright pianos with perforated paneling replaced the parlor organs and
melodeons of an earlier day. Currier and Ives prints and steel engravings were
on their way out.
The
glass-domed dish of wax fruit, together with the white marble-top table on
which it stood, as well as the corner what-not were about ready for the attic.
But the hanging lamp with its sparkling crystal prisms remained, literally, the
highlight of the sitting room until the electric light was introduced.
Regardless of all this progress and improvement an ominous
note which had appeared in the Record of May 7, 1880 was recalled with
misgivings: "It is doubtful whether the saw mill at Lincoln will run this
season owing to the expense of getting out logs at the present time. It is
reported that there is but one more season's cut on that river." Lincoln, the bustling
village, that had once been the county seat was nearing its end, about to meet
the common fate of many saw mill towns—desertion and death. Could Ludington
with its eight saw mills survive after the surrounding pine had been cut?
Early
in the eighties a grave-yard-whistling group was presenting salt as a
restorative if this saw-humming city showed signs of passing out with the
mills. The complete story of the beginning of salt manufacturing in Ludington
maybe compiled by following the issues of the Ludington Record, beginning in
the late months of 1882.
In
November of that year a drill house was erected by the Pere Marquette Lumber
Company near their mill, and shortly thereafter a contractor to drill for salt
was selected. In February of the following year Eugene Rohn, a young man
recently arrived in Ludington seeking a business career, was placed in charge
of the pump, and the contractor was informed that everything was in readiness
to begin work.
A
month later "the Company expects its salt-well contractor any day."
By June the well was down seventy-eight feet and operations temporarily
suspended. But a week later the work had been resumed and the well was down one
hundred forty feet. In July at two hundred twenty-four feet the contractor
changed from a twelve-inch to a nine-inch pipe and was boring through
"stiff soil."
In
late August work had been suspended; the pipe had burst at eighty feet below
the surface, and all pipe below that depth would have to be removed by special
machinery "a tedious job."
By
October they were "prosecuting" the job day and night. By November
there was trouble again, " the precise nature of which had not been
ascertained." By December there was "a good prospect of making some
progress."
By the
end of January 1884 the well was down four hundred ninety-five feet, by April
forty-one feet farther, by July 31, "but never mind—it is not deep enough
for a salt well yet by some 1200 feet." H. E. Freeman, the superintendent,
estimated that "without unlocked for delays" they would reach brine
at a depth of probably 2000 feet in April. April 9 at 2,030 feet, "salt
may be struck at any time."
A few
days later and 112 feet deeper the pole broke leaving drill and sinker at the
bottom of the well, and "machinery must be brought in for extracting
these."
The promoters, apparently, were discouraged. The Record reported: "It has been confidently expected in the
past that salt would have been struck before this, and the promoters of the
enterprise are somewhat undetermined as to how far they will go before giving
up the enterprise.
The
general public, in the meantime, is anxious to see the matter proven to a depth
of 2500 feet if necessary . . The promoters finally decided to go on with the
drilling and by early May at 2,160 feet the salometer indicated brine at 72
degrees.
Orders
were given to continue boring. May 21, Good News! Said the Record: "All
classes of citizens who take interest in the future growth and prosperity of
the city are jubilant this week over the discovery of an inexhaustible supply
of salt . . . The oft mooted question of what will become of Ludington after
the pine is cut is forever set at rest." The town celebrated noisily with
speeches and a parade.
The
Pere Marquette Lumber Company proceeded to build an addition to the saw mill
and install machinery for making salt barrels. By the end of July a block had
been erected containing tanks, settlers, and grainers for the manufacture of
salt.
It was predicted that the plant would be in operation by November; later the date was set up to December. The Record reported December 17, 1885: "Last Monday the Pere Marquette Lumber Company commenced the manufacture of salt in earnest. The community is to be congratulated upon the establishment of so important an industry."
Salt
became one of the town's important commercial products and several mill firms
drilled wells. The waste fuel of the mill produced the steam used in processing
the brine.
Hope
and pride in the city's appearance surged so high in the waning years of the
decade that improvement of the sandy streets was demanded. Seven miles of cedar
block pavement were completed by the end of 1887, extending from the Big Store
on West Ludington Avenue, around "the big square" bounded by James
and Dowland Streets and Ludington and Washington Avenues, then on to the foot
of Madison Street in the Fourth Ward.
The work began with grading the streets and removing some
of the sand that had spilled in from the dunes. As the leveling was completed
pine planks were laid and covered with tar. On this the cedar blocks were
placed, end up, and the intervening space filled with gravel. All during the life of cedar
block pavement, the streets were lively with the clop-clop of horses and the
rumble of iron tires.
Nearly
every store owned a delivery rig of some sort, intra-city transportation was
carried on by horse-drawn drays, and there was a great deal of pleasure
driving.
The
crowning improvements in the modernization of the eighties was the installation
of electric lights. The Brush Electric Company installed ninety arc lights for
the streets in 1888. On a mild evening in April of that year James B. McMahon
and Dan V. Samuels orated from an improvised stand at the intersection of
Ludington Avenue and James Street reviewing the city's progress since its
incorporation in 1873.
At the
words, "Let there be light," the Mayor, the Hon. A.E. Smith, turned
the switch, and a loud hurrah went up as "the brilliant rays from the
powerful arc lights" blossomed throughout the city. A parade started
headed by Glazier's Cornet Band followed by three divisions of the fire
department, the Danish band, the Danish Aid Society, and a hundred carriages
filled with leading citizens and visitors.
Greek
fire illuminated the procession at points along the route. The parade was
followed by dancing parties held in the skating rink and other halls throughout
the city. Though the installation meant only ninety street lights, the
achievement was a grand climax in an important list of city improvements.
Economy
minded taxpayers accustomed to turning low their kerosene lamps when no one in
the room was reading, and carrying lanterns on the streets on dark nights, had
to be educated up to the fact that it cost money to produce electricity.
For a time the new lights were switched off
at midnight and they never burned on moonlight nights. When money in the city
treasury ran low, the lights were not turned on at all, and night travelers got
out their lanterns again. But eventually the problems were worked out, and the
use of electricity began to expand.
The stores began to accept the new medium, using arc lights attached to the street circuit, but timid home owners were slow in accepting the incandescent light. The electric company made inducements of a trial porch-light for three months at fifty cents a month, and, though fear of electricity and the cost of installation caused delay, electric lighting was gradually extended to the homes.
The
elegant eighties was a decade of growth and progress for Ludington. The sand
swept village of primitive buildings skirting swamps and gulleys had grown into
a city of wide paved streets shaded by arching maples and a business district
of modern buildings. It was a city of good schools and churches and prosperous
people.
The
living of everyone in the city depended directly or indirectly, on the lumber
industry. The eight lumber mills and their allied salt blocks, planing mills
and shingle mills operated, sometimes day and night, twelve (later shortened to
ten) hours a shift for eight or nine months of the year. Wages ranged from a
dollar to a dollar and a half a day for common labor to three or four dollars
for skilled men such as sawyers and filers.
From
along the docks the merged odors of tar, rope, fish, freshly cut pine and
burning sawdust floated through the town with an off-lake breeze. From the little
lake came the raucous whistles and rhythmic exhaust of steam craft mingled with
the yo-heave-ho of sailors raising canvas. A fleet of white-sailed ships,
escorted in and out the harbor by puffing tugs, carried lumber across the lake.
Pine was king. Chicago was the greatest lumber market in the world. And
Ludington was closely related to Chicago.
The
decade that followed the elegant eighties buffeted "hard times,"
strikes, uprisings, war and insurrection. Yet these years oddly enough have
been dubbed the Gay Nineties. All the catastrophes of the decade were reflected
in Ludington.
Lumber
mills in this area reached their peak of production in 1891 when 146,000,000
feet were manufactured. The decline began the following summer when Pardee,
Cook and Company's mill was wiped out by fire and was not rebuilt.
From
the angle of pay rolls the manufacture of salt was proving a disappointment
since the industry required comparatively few men, and the product could be
manufactured economically only by using steam from the mills. When the mills
closed, the salt wells would be capped. With the manufacture of lumber and salt
on the wane, Ludington faced the dismaying possibility that the end was in
sight.
Within three miles of the city, shifting sand swirled
around the vacant buildings
of "old Lincoln," the once bustling village that had predated
Ludington as the county seat. Here only ten years previously Charles Mears'
historic mill had hummed, and, from slab-piled piers, his lumber-laden schooners
had set sail for Chicago.
Now
the village was deserted. Creeping vines grew over the door steps of abandoned
cottages, and children bent on picnics raced through the vacant rooms of the
gaunt boarding house. The tired old mill was toppling into the water. Could all
this happen to Ludington?
The town must not die! Other industries must be attracted here to replace the mills. The city had valuable possibilities as a summer resort. The harbor and railroad facilities were important assets. The splendid farms and orchards of its rapidly developing hinterland would bring wealth to the city.
Business men, alarmed by the appalling possibility of a vanishing Ludington, organized a Citizens' Development Company. Their efforts received the name and ever since have been known as "the boom."
The first project of this company was the platting of Manufacturers' Addition, a two-thousand acre tract of land, bounded by the present Bryant Street and Washington, Rath and Tinkham Avenues. Water mains were laid by the city, telephone lines were extended, and the Flint and Pere Marquette Railway Company built a spur to the tract.
A
neatly printed and illustrated brochure was distributed with the hope of
attracting new capital here.
The
booklet refused to "assign the common word boom to the growth of this
always prosperous, pleasant and busy town." "We are not
content," said the author, "to stop with what we have, but are
reaching out and encouraging others to come." Three small, short-lived
factories came.
The most happily completed project of the doleful decade
was the establishment of Epworth. The possibilities of making Ludington a
summer resort town had been explored by Charles G. Wing, President of the
Citizen's Development Company, after he came into possession of the Filer
House. This pioneer hostelry had been obliged to give up as a commercial hotel
after the area around the
intersection of James Street and Ludington Avenue became the business center of
the city.
A
stock company was formed in the early nineties to remodel the Filer House and
erect cottages on the grounds, but the plan failed. Eventually the
thirty-year-old hotel, built to house James Ludington's mill hands, was torn
down and the land, burdened with delinquent taxes amounting to nearly $4,000,
became the city park.
During
lumbering days Ludington was not considered a good summer resort town. Many
tourists and resorters passed through here on their way to the fashionable
vacation spots in the northern part of the state, but no one had cared to build
a summer home near whining saw mills and the raucous lumber traffic on Pere
Marquette Lake.
Regardless
of the disturbing noise, nearly every family in Ludington entertained summer
visitors who enjoyed the beach, picnicked in the Buttersville grove, and
relaxed in the shade of leafy maples. Camping parties, one on Old Baldy, long
since hauled off to a glass factory, and one at the old log house on the
historic LaBelle farm, gathered each summer as vacations of congenial groups
permitted. These vacationers advertised Ludington's possibilities as a summer
recreation land.
Since the mill at old Lincoln had ceased to buzz, the area surrounding the deserted village had become a picnic spot. Second growth trees and shrubs covered the logged off land and wild flowers grew in the hollows and on the wooded hills. It was here at old Lincoln in the summer of 1894 that Epworth came into existence as the Epworth League Training Assembly, named in honor of the youth organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church.
In the
summer of 1894 a group of these young people came here to live in tents and
study the Bible.
To
them was donated 240 acres of land by enterprising citizens of Ludington. The
Flint and Pere Marquette Railway Company approved the venture with a generous
gift of money. Surveying and platting the tract, building the auditorium and
two cottages and installing utilities was accomplished in five weeks. The
following year the hotel and more cottages were erected, and Ludington business
men built the memorable Epworth League Railway known as "the dummy
line."
From this wholesome beginning a summer assembly conducted
on the Chautauqua plan grew rapidly. Some of the finest talent in the country,
men and women of nation-wide repute as orators, lecturers and musicians, came
to the Epworth platform. More than one summer Handel's "Messiah" was
produced there by a chorus
and orchestra of Ludington musicians. The development of Hamlin soon followed.
William G. Hudson and Charles T. Gatke built the first summer hotels on Hamlin
Lake. The "dummy line" was extended to that resort area and renamed
the Ludington and Northern Railroad.
But
delightful as were the cultural aspects of Epworth, and the vacation enjoyments
of Hamlin, it was plain that summer resorts that functioned only a few weeks
during the hot weather could not compete with a saw mill in providing jobs.
Other means must be explored.
Development
of Harbor and Railroad Facilities
Many
believed that the railroad and harbor would not let the town die. A straight
line on the map from Detroit to Minneapolis passed practically through
Ludington. Transportation miles could be saved if the manufactured articles of
the lower lake region and the wheat of the Red River Valley followed this
straight line instead of rolling around the lower end of Lake Michigan. This
freight would have to cross the lake, preferably with Ludington as the east
shore port.
Freight
handling had brought business to Ludington since the sixties when steam boats
of the Engleman Transportation Company had relieved the lumber schooners of
this side line. After the Flint and Pere Marquette Railway entered Ludington in
1874 an increase in cross lake freight and passenger business had developed
rapidly.
In 1882 the railroad company began building their own steamers to replace those of the Goodrich Transportation Company. On a balmy September day of that year the Flint and Pere Marquette No. 1 sailed into Ludington harbor and was deafeningly saluted by everything in the little lake possessing a whistle, her own raucous voice responding blast for blast.
A large part of the saw log town's population welcomed the newcomer. Her sister ship the No. 2 soon followed. In the ensuing ten years, the No. 3, No. 4 and No. 5 were brought out new. Later three more wooden ships were purchased and added to the line. All were wooden boats painted black and became known as the "Black Boats."
Summer resort boats, on their run from Chicago to the
northern Michigan playgrounds, stopped at Ludington two or three times a week.
These fair weather boats—the Puritan, the Petoskey, the City of Charlevoix
(renamed the Kansas), the Illinois and Missouri added gay coloring to the
harbor scene. In 1895 two of these summer lines merged.
The
Seymour Transportation Company and the Northern Michigan Transportation
Company became one, taking the name of the latter. Antoine E. Cartier of
Ludington owned an interest in the line, and the boats used the Cartier dock on
his mill property at the foot of James Street. When the schedule permitted,
passengers often rented the waiting hacks to haul them about the city streets
where they could see a lumber town in full swing.
Besides
the Pere Marquette Railway and the summer resort boats, there was one giving twice
a day service between Ludington and Pentwater. These boats filled the gap in
railroad service on the east shore.
The
Pentwater boats were small, the best remembered probably the Grace Barker, the
E. G. Maxwell, and the John D. Dewar. The twelve-mile ride to Pentwater, supper
at the Elliott House (later the Imus House) and return by moonlight was a
favorite holiday trip in the days before the automobile changed our way of
having a good time.
The
tiniest passenger boat on Pere Marquette Lake was the busy little ferry between
Ludington and Buttersville, a thriving village then with a saw mill, lath and
shingle mills, salt block and cooper shop besides the lumber barge, the
Marshall F. Butters, and the logging railroad, the Mason and Oceana, popularly
nicknamed The Miserable and Onery. Three hundred people lived in Buttersville.
In turn the Maude Lilly, the Sprite, the Mary Scott, the Helen Taylor, and the
Ralph M. Cooper, probably others, chugged across the little lake from the foot
of James Street to the dock at Buttersville. A schedule of 45 minute service
and five-cent fare was maintained while the mills operated.
Not
only mill employees but also picnic parties bound for the Buttersville grove,
passengers going south on the Mason and Oceana railroad and students attending
Ludington high school crossed on the tiny ferry boat.
These
boats, added to the schooners, barges and tugs of the hectic lumber traffic
made a vivid, colorful scene of the little lake.
By the middle nineties the gloom in Ludington was almost
opaque. The three new factories that had been attracted here had folded. The
Citizen's Development Company was in litigation and their project in the hands
of a receiver. The Commercial and Savings Bank which had financed "the
boom" failed. A. E.
Cartier saw that the depositors were paid in full but the loss to the
stockholders was heavy.
Ward's
south mill burned in September of 1895. It had not been running for two years
and the machinery had been removed, but the burning, according to the Record of
September 26, "marked the rapid decay and near extinction of the pine
lumber industry of Ludington,"
Discouragement
reached the point that there was serious talk of discontinuing the high school.
The Ludington Record of July 2, 1896 reported: "The public school matters
are subject of common talk these days. Consensus is against any increase of
taxation and in favor of vigorous cutting down of expense. Some go so far as to
favor abolishing the high school."
The
city was frequently disturbed by strikes at the freight sheds. These work
stoppages were an expense and distress to the railroad company. Executives
finally asked, "Why not a boat designed to carry the loaded car and avoid
the expense of transferring the freight? " The answer was a carferry.
There were wooden carferries operating on the lakes, but the first steel
carferry in the world, the Pere Marquette, built by the railroad company,
entered Ludington harbor in February 1897.
The
launching of the memorable Pere Marquette, occurred in Bay City, Michigan,
December 30, 1896. She was brought to Ludington for completion and made her
maiden voyage from here to Milwaukee. On February 18, 1897 the Record reported:
"The appearance of the new carferry at Milwaukee called out between 40,000
and 50,000 people to see the mammoth craft . . . The boat is in command of
Captain Joseph Russell and the engine is in charge of Robert MacLaren . . .
Captain Russell may well feel proud of his new command. There is nothing to
equal it on all the lakes." Many others felt pride, but job-hungry freight
handlers wondered if the carferry didn't mean fewer jobs instead of more.
The gloom of the situation was not diminished when in September the pioneer Pere Marquette Lumber Company sawed its last log, and in December the Danaher-Melendy Company announced that they were moving their head office from Ludington to Dollarville where their volume of business exceeded that at Ludington.
During
the nineties hardwood lumbering became exceedingly important to Ludington. In
the early days of the lumbering industry when logs were brought down rivers to
the mills the hardwoods were by-passed because the logs would not float. When
the pine forests within profitable reach of the rivers had been cut, it became
necessary to bring the outlying timber to the mills by means of railroads. With
rail transportation available, the magnificent maples and other deciduous trees
of Mason County began to share the fate of the giant pines.
The
woodsman's ax had felled many hardwoods in the making of farms. Great bob-sled
loads of beech and maple cord wood drawn by oxen or farm horses, hauled in to
fuel the town's heating stoves and ranges, were familiar winter sights on
Ludington Streets. There were still large acreages of these woods on the farms
when the mill owners sought them as merchantable timber. With improved methods
of felling the trees the land was left in suitable condition for easy clearing
and cropping. Fruit growing and general farming made a rapid growth during this
period of hardwood marketing.
Though all the mill owners in Ludington cut hardwood as well as pine during the closing years of the waning industry, Albert Vogel became the leading independent hardwood operator in the county. He owned five portable mills and large tracts of hard woods in Mason County as well as in Wisconsin. He continued to maintain his home in Ludington where he had come in the late seventies and, during the years since, had been the local representative of the Valentine Blatz Brewing Company of Milwaukee.
In 1898 he controlled the product of nearly half the hardwood land in Mason County. Other Ludington operators who logged hardwood in that year were W. C. Barbour, Antoine E. Cartier, Charles C. Cartier, Butters and Peters, Cartier and Rath, Ludington Woodenware Company, Cartier Enameling Company, and Danaher and Melendy. Rasmus Rasmussen was the outstanding dealer in hemlock. He dealt in ties, wood and bark, shipping his product in his two-masted schooner, the Abbie.
The
sun began to dispel the gloom in the nineties when some of the abandoned
buildings on Manufacturers' Addition were occupied with factories making use of
hardwood. Such products as game boards, folding tables, kitchen utensils, butter molds and
clothes pins began to carry the name of Ludington throughout the United
States.
Some
of the industries now operating had their beginning in those years, among them
the Carom Company and the Handy Things Company. The remarkable growth of fruit growing at this time made
profitable two other industries, a basket factory and a canning factory. Their
work was seasonal without large pay rolls, but helpful to the morale of the
community.
The Ludington Appeal of May 5, 1898 contains the following story:
"By
far the most interesting word that has yet come to the people of the Fourth
Ward and of the entire city was the news that the T. R. Lyon plant had been
purchased by Mr. J. S. Stearns. It was already a foregone conclusion that the
plant giving employment to a very large number of men and being perhaps the
largest single institution in the city, must close its doors within a year or
two and join the steadily increasing van of departing mill men.
Mr.
Lyon has operated the plant for nearly a quarter of a century, and, although
still possessing valuable holdings of pine lands tributary to this point, he
was desirous of disposing of the mill and estate and confining his attention to
matters with which he is more closely associated.
The remarkably low figure at which the plant was sold, $20,000 for the entire institution and appurtenances, is in substantiation of the above statement that Mr. Lyon would have ceased cutting at the north mill in a very short time.
With
the change of ownership comes a new hope that the mill will be operated for
many years to come."
The generation that grew up in the prosperous years following the Civil War heard a great deal of the glories of that conflict. The day that war was declared against Spain in April of 1898, school children of Ludington put aside their books and sang "The Red, White and Blue" and other patriotic songs. After the battle of Manila youth learned a new song to the tune of " Yankee Doodle," " Then Yankee Dewey sent us word, And this is what he said, sir: 'We've sunk their gun boats every one, And not a Yankee dead, sir.' "
War
seemed as simple as that in those untested days.
The Spanish American war was fought entirely by volunteers. About fifty men from Mason County enlisted but few of them saw fighting in Cuba, though some of them were within sound of gun firing when hostilities ceased. The horrors of war overtook our men when typhoid fever, malaria, and yellow fever broke out in the camps.
In the Philippine Insurrection which followed the Cuban war, Ludington lost its first man to die in action, William Wallace Salisbury. Later George Quinn died in the Philippines while in the armed forces. The two military funerals sobered their home town into a realization that war was not all glory and flag waving.
The
war had no effect on the economy of the town. There were no bond sales or
drives of any kind. The real effects of the conflict, the realization that the
nation had become a world power, and the decision that the Panama Canal must be
built as soon as possible, were slow in crystalizing.
Return to Prosperity
By the
time Aquinaldo's surrender ended the Philippine Insurrection, the country was
well out of the "hard times" of the early nineties. After the
election of 1896, when wheat reached a dollar a bushel on the Chicago Board of
Trade, the return of prosperity was loudly proclaimed.
Though
Ludington shared in the general optimism, there were those who could see no
bright future for the town, and groups of overburdened taxpayers fought
proposed improvements. When the original unit of the present senior high
school and the court house were built during those uncertain years, there was a
difference of opinion between those who groaned under the required heavy taxes
and those who rejoiced that the work "gave men jobs."
The wooden pavements needed attention. The cedar blocks
had gone to pieces rapidly after the pavements were laid. Too, the cedar blocks
were in ill repute because of the malaria that plagued the town. Though the
mosquito had not yet been proved guilty, there were those who felt some
connection existed between
the disease and decaying vegetation or the miasma that hung over the streets.
But not until the end of the decade was the machinery put in motion to begin
replacing the cedar blocks with macadam pavements.
Those
improvements on which decisions could be made individually moved faster.
Replacing the plank sidewalks with cement began about the middle nineties. The
Record of May 21, 1896 stated, "Ex-alderman Blouin's 36 feet of cement
sidewalk on James Street is a good starter along that thoroughfare."
Five
years later: "The amount of cement walk being laid has given opportunity
for the formation of a new firm—Caswell, Eseltine and Reed. Our well known H.
B. Caswell is the senior member . . . They are at present engaged in laying 200
feet for A. E. Cartier on two sides of the club house . . . Mr. Cartier's
action is exceptionally public spirited in making improvements on property
unoccupied and without income."
Cement sidewalks followed in the residential areas. The steadily increasing number of summer resorters and tourists coming here gave an added impetus to this improvement. Property owners wanted the visitors to be favorably impressed.
House
building and remodeling, begun in the eighties, continued throughout the
nineties and a goodly number of handsome modern residences of gingerbread
architecture were erected throughout the city.
October 1, 1898 was an important day in Ludington—the day of the first free mail delivery here. The first carriers were U. S. Grant, Eugene Rohn, Claude Bailey and Charles Clausen. Ben Beaudreau was substitute carrier. The routes were about twenty miles each and were covered twice a day.
The carriers climbed stairs in office buildings and in winter broke a path in the snow, since the carriers were out on their routes before the snow plow passed. When the post office inspector came he protested the long arduous routes. George Hammond was added to the carrier force and given a horse and cart route on the outskirts of the town.
There
were four rural routes out of the Ludington post office. Since the weather
meant a great deal in farming areas the official weather reports, received
daily by telegraph at the life saving station, were flagged on the carts of the
rural carriers.
As in many other small towns there had grown up a fellowship
among those going to the post office at the same time each day, meeting the same people and discussing
the current town topics for a few moments. After the inauguration of mail
delivery post office box holders missed this association for a time, but the
gap was soon filled by improved telephone facilities.
The
few telephones in use as far back as the eighties had been used only for
business and emergencies. When Heber R. Mason came here in the late nineties as
manager for the telephone company, he began to build up the residential part
of the business. He made it possible to install a telephone in a home for one
dollar a month.
The
first telephone directory in Ludington was issued May 1, 1899. Two hundred
forty telephones were listed and fifty more had been ordered. Previous to
calling by number, "Central"—a very important person—was requested to
"get my party" by the name of the person or the place—"Please
give me the Busy Big Store" or "Call the City Hall quick-there's a
fire." With the new directory patrons were requested to make their calls
by number.
The
"New Woman" was in the news everywhere. One of her activities was the
organization of literary clubs. When the National Federation of Women's Clubs
was formed at the turn of the century sixty-three clubs in seventeen states
united in this organization.
Early
in the nineties the first women's club in Ludington, The Pere Marquette
Literary Club, was organized largely through the efforts of Miss Elizabeth
Smith.
The
meetings of the club were held in the afternoon at the home of one of its
members, and their programs followed the general plan of literary clubs of that
day. Masterpieces of literature were reviewed, and papers were prepared on
subjects pertaining to books and writers.
Another early club was the Bay View Reading Circle
organized in the early nineties by Mrs. John S. Woodruff. Meetings were held
each Monday evening in her home, membership was by invitation from Mrs.
Woodruff, and men were included in the membership. The Bay View course was much
like that of the Chautauqua
course so popular at the time. The
headquarters and assembly were at Bay View, Michigan.
The women's club movement developed rapidly and by the end of the decade other clubs had been formed in Ludington. Besides these all the lodges had women's auxiliaries. A great deal of the social life of the city stemmed from these organizations.
New
Opportunities for Women
Regardless of the New Woman movement opportunities for those in Ludington desiring to enter the world of men outside the home were limited. By far the greater number of young women turned to school teaching as a means of livelihood. The telephone company and the post office employed a few girls. Some turned to music and supported themselves by giving piano lessons.
When
Thomas R. Lyon Agt. brought Miss Anna Fiske (Mrs. E. N. Dundass) here as his
stenographer and typist, high school girls saw the opening of a new career for
women. Miss Fisk, it was said, received a salary of seventy dollars a month
while women teachers were receiving from twenty-five to fifty dollars but only
nine or ten months of the year. It was not long before the Martindale and Rose
Business College opened in the old court house building, and more young women
turned to careers in business.
Those
who turned to music also received an impetus. From the first Ludington was
music conscious and had always possessed good talent, but opportunities to hear
good music were limited. The phonograph changed this.
The Ludington Appeal of February 24, 1898 told the following story:
"The Presbyterian church was packed to the doors last Friday night with people who were alive with curiosity to see and hear the gramaphone (phonograph). And it's safe to say too that none of them was disappointed. The instrument did all and more too than was expected of it ... M. H. Butters and his son operated the machine."
The increasingly popular Epworth programs, the winter lecture course, the presentation of cookery as an art by women's magazines with an occasional "cooking school" in Ludington gave additional opportunities for the cultural growth of women.
It is
doubtful if an automobile had ever appeared on the streets of Ludington sixty
years ago, but travelers to the cities had returned and reported they saw a
horseless carriage while in the metropolis. Some even prophesied the passing of
the horse.
The
"cinematograph" appeared in Ludington during the nineties. It was a
crude affair, but interesting, and in time might replace the magic lantern in
the entertainment field. The scenes were exciting, sometimes amusing and
objects really did move. It was several years later that filmed plays began to
compete with the stage. These moving picture shows came to the old opera house
on James Street on the site of the present Lyric Theatre. Many signs foretold a changing world, but as
yet Ludington had no great part in the conversion. The official census at the
end of the nineties showed that during the decade Ludington had lost 1,078
people. It's population figure now was 7,166.
Transformation
of the beautiful little city on Lake Michigan came gradually. One by one
Ludington's four remaining saw mills ceased operation, the last one in 1917
when the Stearns mill banked its fires.
In place of the mills came other industries, the Star Watch Case factory
in 1906 followed at intervals by Electric Tamper Company, Thompson Cabinet
Company, Atkinson Manufacturing Company, Wolverine Manufacturing Company and
Dow Chemical Company among others, their products known in many parts of the
world.
Improved farm facilities brought changes in rural living and added pay rolls to agricultural areas. The prosperity and cultural growth of her hinterland favored Ludington. The eight-hour day became effective giving more leisure time to millions of families and Ludington's surrounding tourist and resort areas grew amazingly. Many come here summer after summer seeking relaxation, increasing the population four fold during the resort season.
The lumbering era of Ludington—days of sand, sawdust and
saw logs—is a thing of the past. A new way of living has grown up in the areas
haunted by ghosts
of lumbering years.
Huge modern industries occupy some of the former mill sites. The
peaceful Pere Marquette river that carried the huge log drives to the mills now
flows through wooded slopes and well tended farms where summer visitors find
good fishing. On the sites of former mill villages stand secluded summer homes.
The silver winged lumber schooners have disappeared from the harbor, their place taken by the largest fleet of train ferries in the world.
The end.
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