Part 1

[Original Cover, with Map]

Found at Last: the Veritable Garden of Eden

Or a place that answers the Bible description of the notable spot better than anything yet discovered

By Rev. D. O. Van Slyke

Independent Printing House, Galesville, Wisconsin 1886

Copyrighted 1886, by C. S. Van Slyke Proprietor, Galesville, Wis.

All rights reserved.

[Preparer’s Note: Typographical errors from the original have been retained, as well as quirks of punctuation (such as the extensive use of asterisks)]

PREFACE.

On the principle of “first know you are right, then go ahead,” I have been very slow in making public the results of my discovery. But having become thoroughly satisfied that I have a reasonable thing of it, have ventured to publish it. It has appeared in brief articles in the Galesville INDEPENDENT, in order to invite general inspection, and criticism.

When God made man to dwell on the face of the earth, He, evidently, must place him somewhere. In giving the antldiluvians a description of the creation, and first location of man, how mankind corrupted themselves, and how God destroyed them with a flood, he simply stated the principal facts, and gave a description of the location—and it not being on that continent, he could not point it out to them—and as the country in which Noah then resided, was all new to him, and his family, no one knew where it was; nor was any one able then, or since, to find it on that continent; thus, the location, though admitted to be somewhere on earth, has been kept a profound mystery to the present time, and consequently the innocent cause of no little speculation. But by degrees it has been opening to the minds of some, that the first habitation of man must have been somewhere on the American Continent; and the finger of time has been plainly pointing to what is known as the “North West,” as the place. But of this last fact I was ignorant when I made the discovery of the garden, and commenced developing the facts about it. The discovery, resulted from my familiarity with, or thorough knowledge of the Bible, and standing on the hanging garden and looking over the plat, and admirirg its most wonderful scenery, and counting the rivers, I became sensibly impressed by a suggestion, This is the garden of Eden: at which suggestion I smiled, as the plat, to me then, was altogether too large. Of course I had never given it thought, nor measured it up in my own mind to what should, or might be its proper dimentions. However so strong were my impressions, that I, as a matter of pleasantry, used, occasionally to say to my friends, This is the garden of Eden.

Since I commenced to publish my views, claiming a possible reality, while some have mocked, others are becoming impressed with the idea of its being not only possible, but highly probable. Where would a scientest place the first pair, to acclimate, and from which to make man, as he now is, an inhabitant of all the earth? Not too far north, not too far south. Our garden is in that place. It should be destitute of money mineral wealth, as these, if easily obtained, are corrupting in their tendencies, and should be sought, and toiled for, to be properly enjoyed; and should be placed at a distance, just where God says he provided it, at the head of the stream. Our garden is still in the right place. From inherited wealth and luxury comes danger to the inheritors. Our garden is again right. But it should be a place susceptible of, and adapted to moral and intellectual growth, and lead to the admiration, adoration, and worship of the great Builder of the universe, the Infinite and Perfect. Is there a better place for that, in all this beautiful earth, than is our garden, and its surroundings? If there is, we would like to see it.

I have related the facts as they have been presented to me, or as I have discovered them, and believe the reader will be pleased and profited with the results, and I hope this will lead to more thorough and satisfactory investigation.

THE AUTHOR.

GARDEN OF EDEN.

See Genesis 2, 8-14.

“And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden. * * And a river went out of Eden to water the garden,—[or, the river that ran through the land of Eden watered the garden.]—And from thence,—[in, the garden]—it was parted and became into four heads. * * And the fourth river is Euphrates;” which means long river, symbol of greatness and importance, and which, answers to our “Father of Waters.” It is plain that Eden is a certain country; that the Euphrates river crosses that country, that “eastward”, or on the eastward, bank of, or at a certain point on that river, is located the garden of Eden; and that three lesser rivers run through and water this garden, flowing into the great river; thus four rivers run into and water it, but only one, the fourth, runs out. As to how it was watered, we have a clue; “And Lot lifted up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of Jordan, that it was well watered everywhere * * even as the garden of the Lord;” by streams crossing the plain, and running into the river of Jordon, just as our three rivers cross our garden plain, into our Euphrates. The names given to these rivers were, doubtless, explanations of facts well known to the antideluvians.

We need not now undertake to prove, or show what must readily be admitted, that, there is no such spot, or coming together of rivers in the region where it was first supposed to be, and which has caused explorers and researchers to turn to Africa, and other countries, in search of the place; and Dr. Warren, with all his learning and ingenuity, to the North Pole. But _we_ have found it where he and others, can come and see for themselves.

It is located on the “eastward bank” of the Mississippi River, between the beautiful cities of La Crosse, Wisconsin, and Winona Minnesota. Please notice the beauty and euphony of those names. The Mississippi—the bible Euphrates—river, being one of the longest and most picturesque rivers _in the world._ Its valley, proper—with its tributaries, some of which reach far out into “Havilah” the “Land of good gold”—extends from the Alleghany mountains on the eastern border, 2,000 miles westward to the Rocky mountains on the western border, and from the Gulf of Mexico, on the south, extending 2,000 miles north, across the United States into the Bridtish possessions. This vast area, Eden,—containing the most fertile and habitable region of earth, and is being settled and inhabited by the most industrious, enlightened, christianized and well to-do people in the world; the asylum or _universal home_ of the oppressed and needy of all lands,—contains “The heart of the New World,” the “Land of Promise,” in this Christian United States of America. Central in this domain, Eden, is our _Garden_ of Eden. The soil is not a deep, rich paste, like the American bottoms opposite St. Louis, on the same river, which is known to be the _richest_ land in the world, but higher, drier, and more habitable, easily cultivated, and adapted to _gardening._

The river here, as in most places, has three banks; the first a little above high water mark,—densely covered with forest trees, which consitutes the islands and “river bottoms”—cut up by water courses and sloughs. The river and bottoms are about two miles wide, over and through which the “Laughing” and “Father of waters,” courses, run, and play their dances. The second bank is high and dry above the hightest water mark,—and generally smooth prairie, and ready in the state of nature for the garden plow—extending back on one or both sides of the river for miles, making a valley at this place, of about ten miles in the widest, when we reach the bank, bluff, or rocky wall, which rises—on each side of our garden—to the altitude of 600 feet above the river, being the point of the highest bluffs on the Mississippi.

Nineteen miles above La Crosse, and twelve miles below Winona, on the “eastward bank,” nestles, and spreads out that most beautiful town site, Trempealeau, on which ought now to be a large city, and which doubtless would have been but for the greed and ignorance of a part of its original proprietors, who being told, and thinking they had the “nicest,” “most beautiful,” “splendid,” town site on the Mississippi river, they were bound to get rich at once, “but not knowing their day,” and how to build up a town like, the fabled dog, “they grabbed for the shadow and lost the reality;” “Their language was confounded and their work delayed.” Here on the second bank, is raised, our “Hanging Garden,” a crescent bluff, high as the outside wall, extending three miles up the river, terminating at each end in a point, and one mile through the center, being in the form of a new moon, and unlike anything of the kind, so far as known, in the entire world, and must be seen to be appreciated.

This is not one solid smooth topped hill, but possesses all the variety of bluff formation, containing groves of forest trees, ravines, slopes, scattered rocks, and perpendicular ledges facing the river, like the “Face of a King,” some of these ledges are 200 ft. high, commencing more than half way up the mound, then rising perpendicular to near the very top. The top of this hanging garden has its slopes, mounds, pyramids, domes, and pinnacles, in most beautiful variety; and at the present time, it is dotted with fields of grain, and specked with stone quarries and lime kilns. Now, please, place yourself with me on the “Central Outer Dome” “Heald’s quarry,” facing toward the eastward, and you have, before, below, and around you the veritable Garden of Eden; a valley scene, in extent and importance unequalled in America, and I think, in the world. Not like the Yosemite, small, romantic _grand_ but _uninhabitable_ or unfit for a _garden,_ but the very beau ideal of a garden.

Now that we are up where we can see, let us look across and around this garden. Turn, now and face the south-west. There, before and below you flows the Mississippi, whose name is as euphonious as the Euphrates, or its own flowing waters. See its “Broad channels,” queer and picturesque islands, its trees and vine-clad bottoms, lovely beyond description; its general course, not meandering, but evenly hugging the base of the Minnesota bluffs, or western wall of the garden, which it does for some twenty-five miles, or from just below Winona, to just above La Crosse, running in a southeasterly and southern direction, making a beautiful curve, leaving the main garden valley on the “Eastward” bank, in the form of a section of an ampitheater, 35 miles long, 5 miles wide at each end, and 10 miles through the center. _This vast valley plain is our Garden of Eden._ Now, Look! as thousands before you have done in wonder and surprise! Look immediately around you, over the hanging garden on which you stand, and, _look out for snakes,_ for how could you have such a garden without a “Serpent.”, And this hanging garden has been notable and notorious for rattlesnakes, from time immemorial, handed down in their Indian name “rattlesnake hills,” and including Mount Trempealeau, (a separate and distinct pyramid) was formerly “Literally alive with rattlesnakes.” Mr. Dovile, one of the first white settlers at Trempealeau, who built his shanty on the bank, a few rods from the river, killed, and kept count of ninety great rattlesnakes the first season, in, and crossing his foot-path from his house to the river, saying nothing of how many he killed elsewhere.

But as Christians have taken possession of the hanging garden, the serpents have been destroyed, or are disappearing.

The scenery now around us surpasses my power of adequate description, as do the great lakes. Superior, Michigan, Huron,—and so on down the line,—in their magnitude and importance, those little lakes in the garden, southeast of us, containing a few acres each, mirroring their shining beauties into our faces. But O, how beautifully, and magnificently fenced, or walled in, is our garden! While there is a general level, bounding the top, yet what an indescribable variety of topping out. Cones, oblongs, smooth ridges, trees, huge rocks, rough, ragged and jageed, in almost endless variety. Perpendicular ledges boldly facing us: or single rocks of varied sizes; smooth bald heads, and ridges; deep, and dark chasms; wide openings of river’s mouths; all making one of the grandest panoramas conceivable. At present this “wild scenery” is being effaced by the profuse growth of timber. Near the southern extremity, lies the beautiful flourishing city of La Crosse, with its tall church spires and electric towers, fringed with smoke from its numerous lumber mills; most appropriately and providentially named. La Crosse—saying nothing of its being the name of an ancient game modernized—as here _crosses_ the _garden_ one of the four notable rivers, whose opening and bluff outline, may be seen coming in from the “far east,” making and containing the notable and once far-famed, “La Crosse valley”; on which is located the beautiful city of Sparta.

Just beyond La Crosse city, and to the left we see the outline entrance of Mormon Cooley valley, which creek bounds the lower end of our garden. Now as we trace the wall to the left,—past the La Crosse valley, and first eastern gate—we discover another small line of opening through which runs Half-way creek, notable as the home (Holman) of Norwegians. The next bold heavy prominence is “King bluff.” Still tracing on, we notice some queer looking rocks, lying on top of a ridge; then, the Twin points, the outer one the “Sugar Loaf,” a most beatiful _cone mound_ pointed with rock, and beckon to Black river valley, this side of which, is “Castle rock;” and to the left, a wide opening and a beautiful valley,—the central and main eastern gate—with branching valleys, extending east and northeast, all in front of you, down which flows the notable “Black river,” appropriately named, from the natural blackness of its waters, and because it cuts and _divides_ our _garden_ through its center, and making a beautiful belt of timbered bottoms. As it nears the Mississippi, it forms a delta, one part turning to the left, and running parallel to the Mississippi, forming that grand booming pond, and depot of lumbering at Onalaska; and then empties itself into the Mississippi at LaCrosse; thus inclosing, and forming French island, once the resort of counterfeiters.

As you glance up Black River valley, coming in from the right, is “Flemming’s creek,” or Lewis’ valley, a fertile valley, in which is located the euphonious Mendora; those blue highlands, apparently at the head of the main valley is “Robinson’s,” or “Pine Hill,” between Black River Falls and Sparta. This way to the left, that beautiful notch in the bluff is “Peacock Pass,” and is just this side of North Bend, and though apparently so near, is some “twenty miles away.” This heavy point, at the left of Black river, is “Heuston’s Bluff,” the next best point from which to view this valley garden. To the left and farther away, _look_ at that _great rock,_ big as a barn, topping out another cone. That is the veritable “Decora’s Peak,” named after that wonderful one-eyed chieftain, who, with a few of his brave and loyal band, lodged, occasionally in a cave in that rock; and from its hight were enable to discover any game, or even an enemy within a large range. Once on a time, it is said, he discovered the prowling “Black Hawk,” with his band of warriors, and ran to Prairie du Chien, ninety miles in one day, to inform the U. S. Government; and, then, helped to capture their enemy. A little farther to the left, and just across the garden from us wedged in a narrow opening, lies the village of Galesville, on Beaver creek,—a branch of Black river,—with its exquisitely beautiful lake, and bounding fish, its fine water power, health giving mineral springs, Galesville University and choice people. “Beautiful for situation” is Galesville, the joy of all its inhabitants, if not of all the earth. And “as the hills are round about Jerusalem,” so are the hills, and vastly more magnificent ones, round about Galesville, and the scenery simply GRAND. Looking up Beaver creek valley, to the left, is Maughmer’s bluff which affords a grand view; and still to the left, that dim mountain peak, pointed with rock and shrubs (in the direction of Blair, in Trempealeau valley,) is “Chapel Peak.” In the early settlement, by whites, of this region of country, two Methodist itinerants, A. B. Smith and Isaac Springer were following a dim wagon track, on their way to Galesville, which track passed along at the base of that peak; and they clambered to its top, and found there “The rock-formed pulpit” or altar, which had stood there for ages, into which they entered, and as they were both good singers, they sang,—to make the welkins ring, as there was nothing else thereto hear:—

On the mountain-top appearing, Lo! The sacred Herald stands, Welcome news in Zion bearing Zion _long_ in _hostile_ lands.

Still tracing the garden wall as we turn to the left, we face the “Big Tamarac” through an opening in the wall, a swamp of dense tamarac, one mile wide, and six miles long, bordered with belts and groves of oak, furnishing fencing and fuel for the upper end of the garden. Another turn and you are looking through “Whistler’s Pass,” another of “Nature’s highways” out of the garden; this leading through the Polander settlement into the Trempealeau Valley. Another turn and we mark the bluff outline and entrance into the garden—the third and last eastern gate,—of the Trempealeau river, crossing it at the upper end; and like Black river, it forms a delta, one part running down along side of the Mississippi, forming an island, on the lower end of which, is that wonderful “Mount Trempealeau,” a rocky cone covered with pine trees, where with the outlet of Trempealeau lake, it flows through a narrow opening between the mountain and crescent hanging garden—of which it forms a part—into the Mississippi river. Trempealeau Lake, at the head of the hanging garden, just back of the mountain, is a body, principally of spring water, and is one of the most notable fishing ponds known, attracting fishermen from far and near. “Trempealeau; surrounded, soaked, fertilized _with water._” So expressive, so important to this region is the word, that the lake, the island, the mountain, the river, the county; the township, and the village are all named Trempealeau.

Another slight turn and we are looking into the closed up valley of the Mississippi,—on account of a bend in the river—which is the fourth and last river that enters, crosses, and waters this garden is on the west bank of which, at the upper end of our garden, right there, plainly before you, lies the charming bustling city of Winona,—associated with a thousand legends of Indian traditions,—with its tall water tower, its numerous lumber mills, churches, normal school, and enterprising people, stretching itself over a smooth and most lovely prairie. Vandal proprietors are devouring their “Sugar Loaf,” standing just back of the city, as well as quarrying down their native garden walls.

In our constant turning to the left, that string of white buildings below Winona, on the river’s bank and pressed against the foot of the wall, is Homer, a quiet little ville.

In our western view we shall not see so many objects of interest; as not a river pierces the western wall, only a few little brooks, or trout harboring runs,—where they used to catch the speckled trout by the bushel, prominent among which is Cedar run, just, a little above us and Trout run directly opposite of us, on which is located the celebrated “Pick Wick” flouring mills—are all that indent or mar its smooth and even face. Then, everything appears to be so near by. The forms, and farm houses, in such multiplied variety, so plain in sight, just “Over there,” _outside_ of the garden, rough and rugged, to where “Fallen Humanity” was driven. And we are getting tired of looking, so we make a rapid turn, glancing along the wall down over New Amsterdam and Holland settlement, to the point of commencement, and are looking into the closed-up valley, on account of another bend, in this mighty, mighty, Mississippi river, in its exit out of this _Garden of Eden._

As we look down once more on this valley garden land, with its little silver lakes, and shining streams, beautiful groves and undulating prairies, and try to peer into its future, we are completely overwhelmed with emotion, as we notice it is just _beginning_ to be checkered up, by marks of intelligent human occupancy, as well as by the Indian tepee and wigwam. But the time of gardening is not yet. And here is room for hundreds of thousands of the fallen sons of God, to come and regain a home in this “Paradise on earth” to all such as have a Paradise within them.

Now, will any one believe us? “Come and see!” Dr. Warner and all. Take this description in your hand, read, and look, and like the “Queen of Sheba,” you will lose your “spirit of doubting,” and say: “It was a true report, though I believed it not, but now that mine eyes have seen it, the one half of its greatness was not told.”

The scenery just outlined, is amazingly grand, The work of the Deity, worthy his hand.