Part 14
Wisconsin was strongly favored by most of the German writers on immigration, especially about the time that it became prominent through being admitted to the Union (1848). Nothing came of all this agitation for a German State, except the very wide advertising which Wisconsin obtained in Germany, as a State admirably suited for Germans, in soil, climate, liberal constitution, and low prices for lands, and as possessing social attractions for them, because it had early obtained an unusually large German population.
The counties near Milwaukee were the first to receive German settlers. This movement began about 1839, and was very rapid. Soon after that, Sauk and Dane counties became the favorites for new arrivals. Next, immigrants from Germany went to the southwestern counties, about Mineral Point, and northward into the region about Lake Winnebago and the Fox River. By 1841 they had spread into Buffalo county, and along the Mississippi River; but since 1860 they have chiefly gone into the north central regions of the State, generally preferring forest lands to prairies. The first arrivals were mainly from the valley of the Rhine; next in order, came people from southern Germany; but the bulk of the settlers are from the northern and middle provinces of their native land.
The principal Swiss groups in Wisconsin are in Green, Buffalo, Sauk, Fond du Lac, and Taylor counties. That at New Glarus, in Green county, is one of the most interesting. In the sterile little mountainous canton of Glarus, in Switzerland, there was, about 1844, much distress because of over population; the tillable land was insufficient to raise food for all the people. It was, therefore, resolved by them to send some of their number to America, as a colony.
Two scouts were first dispatched, in the spring of 1845, with instructions to find a climate, a soil, and general characteristics as nearly like Switzerland as possible. These agents had many adventures as they wandered through Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, before finally selecting Green county, Wisconsin, as the place best suited for their people.
It was supposed that those left behind would wait until a report could be sent back to them. But one hundred ninety-three of the intending emigrants soon became restless, and started for America only a month later than the advance guard. The party had a long and very disagreeable journey, down the Rhine River to the seaport, where after many sore trials they obtained a vessel to take them across the Atlantic. This ship was intended for the accommodation of only one hundred forty passengers; but nearly two hundred crowded into it, and had a tempestuous and generally disheartening passage of forty-nine days, with insufficient food.
At last, reaching Baltimore, they proceeded by canal boat to the foot of the Alleghanies, crossed the mountains by a crude railway, and then embarked in a steamer down the Ohio River, bound for St. Louis. After their arrival at that city, there ensued a long and vexatious search for the scouts, who, not expecting them, had left few traces behind. But perseverance finally won, and by the middle of August all of these weary colonists were reunited in the promised land of New Glarus, five thousand miles away from their native valleys.
The experience of the first few years was filled with privations, because these poor Swiss, fresh from narrow fields and small shops at home, did not comprehend the larger American methods of farming, with horse and plow. But, by the kindness of their American neighbors, they finally learned their rude lessons; and, soon adopting the profitable business of manufacturing Swiss cheese, by thrift and industry they in time succeeded in making of New Glarus one of the most prosperous agricultural regions in Wisconsin.
It is estimated that in Green county there are now eight thousand persons of Swiss birth, or the descendants of Swiss, about one-third of the entire population. The language which they still use in business affairs is the German-Swiss dialect.
The first Norwegian immigrants to America arrived in 1825, after some strange adventures on the ocean, and settled in the State of New York; this was before Wisconsin was ready for settlers. From 1836 to 1845, thousands of Norwegians came to Illinois and Wisconsin, their first settlement in Wisconsin being made in 1844, in the town of Albion, Dane county. They are now scattered quite generally over the State, in large groups, with hundreds of ministers and churches, and many newspapers; but they are still strongest in Dane county, where, probably, there are not less than fourteen thousand who were either born in Norway or are the children of Norwegian-born parents.
The Belgians are closely massed in certain towns of Door, Kewaunee, and Brown counties, in the northeastern portion of the State. The beginning of their immigration was in 1853, when ten families of the province of Brabant, in Belgium, determined to move to America, where they could win a better support for themselves, and suitably educate their children. The vessel in which they crossed the Atlantic was forty-eight days in sailing from Antwerp to New York, the passage being tedious and rough, accompanied by several terrific hurricanes. The poor pilgrims suffered from hunger and thirst, as well as sickness, and lost one of their number by death.
It was while on board ship that the majority decided to settle in Wisconsin, and upon landing, hither they promptly came. Arriving in Milwaukee, they knew not what part of the State was best suited for them; but began to prospect for land, and finally settled near Green Bay, simply because a large portion of the population of that village could speak French, which was their own language. At first they had determined to locate near Sheboygan, but were annoyed at not being able to make themselves understood by the inhabitants of that place. The little band of Belgians was at last established within rude log huts, in the heart of a dense forest, ten miles from any other human habitation, without roads or bridges, or even horses or cattle. They experienced the worst possible inconveniences and hardships naturally appertaining to life in the frontier woods, and for the first year or two the colony seemed in a desperate condition. Its hopeful members, however, hiding their present misery, sent cheerful letters home, and enticed their old neighbors either to join them, or to form new settlements in the neighborhood. In due time, the Belgians of northeastern Wisconsin became prosperous farmers and merchants.
Similar tales might be related, of the great difficulties and hardships bravely overcome by several other foreign groups in Wisconsin: for instance, the Poles, the Dutch, the Welsh, the Bohemians, the Cornishmen of the lead-mine region, and the Icelandic fishermen of lonely Washington Island. But the foregoing will suffice to show of what sturdy stuff our foreign-born peoples are made, and cause us to rejoice that such material has gone into the upbuilding of our commonwealth.
SWEPT BY FIRE
Before the great inrush of agricultural settlers, in 1836, most of the surface of Wisconsin was covered with dense forests. In the northern portion of the State, pines, hemlocks, and spruce predominated, mingled with large areas of hard wood; elsewhere, hard wood chiefly prevailed, the forests in the southern and eastern portions being frequently broken by large prairies and by small treeless "openings."
In the great northern pine woods, lumbermen have been busy for many years. They leave in their wake great wastes of land, some of it covered with dead branches from the trees that have been felled and trimmed; some so sterile that the sun, now allowed to enter, in a rainless summer bakes the earth and dries the spongy swamps; while all about are great masses of dead stumps, blasted trunks, and other forest débris. Settlers soon pour in, purchase the best of this cut-over land, and clear the ground for farms. But there are still left in Wisconsin great stretches of deforested country, as yet unsettled; some of these areas are worthless except for growing new forests, an enterprise which, some day, the State government will undertake for the benefit of the commonwealth.
Now and then, in dry seasons, great fires start upon these "pine barrens," or "slashings," as they are called, and spread until often they cause great loss to life and property. These conflagrations originate in many ways, chiefly from the carelessness of hunters or Indians, in their camps, or from sparks from locomotives, or bonfires built by farmers for the destruction of rubbish.
Nearly every summer and autumn these forest fires occur more or less frequently in northern Wisconsin, working much damage in their neighborhoods; but usually they exhaust themselves when they reach a swamp, a river, or cleared fields. When, however, there has been an exceptionally long period of drought, everything in the cut-over lands becomes excessively dry; the light, thin soil, filled with dead roots and encumbered by branches and stumps, becomes as inflammable as tinder; the dried-up marshes generate explosive gases.
The roaring flames, once started in such a season, are fanned by the winds which the heat generates, and, gathering strength, roll forward with resistless impetus; dense, resinous forest growths succumb before their assault, rivers are leaped by columns of fire, and everything goes down before the destroyer. In a holocaust of this character, all ordinary means of fire fighting are in vain; the houses and barns of settlers feed the devouring giant, whole towns are swept away, until at last the flames either find nothing further upon which to feed, or are quenched by a storm of rain.
The most disastrous forest conflagration which Wisconsin has known, occurred during the 8th and 9th of October, 1871. There had been a winter with little snow, and a long, dry summer. Fires had been noticed in the pine forests which line the shores of Green Bay, as early as the first week in September. At first they did not create much alarm; they smouldered along the ground through the vegetable mold, underbrush, and "slashings," occasionally eating out the roots of a great tree, which, swayed by the wind, would topple over with a roar, and send skyward a shower of sparks.
Gradually the "fire belt" broadened, and, finding better fuel, the flames strengthened; the swamps began to burn, to a depth of several feet; over hundreds of square miles the air was thick and stifling with smoke, so that the sun at noonday appeared like a great copper ball set on high; at night the heavens were lurid. Miles of burning woods were everywhere to be seen; hundreds of haystacks in the meadows, and great piles of logs and railroad ties and telegraph poles were destroyed.
For many weeks the towns along the bay shore were surrounded by cordons of threatening flame. The people of Pensaukee, Oconto, Little Suamico, Sturgeon Bay, Peshtigo, and scores of other settlements, were frequently called out by the fire bells to fight the insidious enemy; many a time were they apparently doomed to destruction, but constant vigilance and these occasional skirmishes for a time saved them.
Reports now began to come in, thick and fast, of settlers driven from blazing homes, of isolated sawmills and lumber camps destroyed, of bridges consumed, of thrilling escapes by lumbermen and farmers. On Sunday, the 8th of October, a two days' carnival of death began. In Brown, Kewaunee, Oconto, Door, Manitowoc, and Shawano counties the flames, suddenly rising, swept everything within their path. Where thriving, prosperous villages once had stood, blackened wastes appeared. Over a thousand lives were lost, nearly as many persons were crippled, and three thousand were in a few hours reduced to beggary. The horrors of the scenes at New Franken, Peshtigo, and the Sugar Bush, in particular, were such as cannot be described.
This appalling tragedy chanced to occur at the same time as vast prairie fires in Minnesota, and the terrible conflagration which destroyed Chicago. The civilized world stood aghast at the broad extent of the field of needed relief; nevertheless, the frenzied appeals for aid, issued in behalf of the Wisconsin fire sufferers, met with as generous a response as if they alone, in that fateful month of October, were the recipients of the nation's bounty. Train loads of clothing and provisions, from nearly every State in the Union, soon poured into Green Bay, which was the center of distribution; the United States government made large gifts of clothing and rations; nearly two hundred thousand dollars were raised, and expended under official control; and great emergency hospitals were opened at various points, for the treatment of sick and wounded.
As for the actual financial loss to the people of the burned district, that could never be estimated. The soil was, in many places, burned to the depth of several feet, nothing being left but sand and ashes; grass roots were destroyed; bridges and culverts were gone; houses, barns, cattle, tools, seed, and crops were no more. It was several years before the region began again to exhibit signs of prosperity.
In the year 1894, forest fires of an appalling magnitude once more visited Wisconsin, this time in the northwestern corner of the State. Again had there been an exceptionally dry winter, spring, and summer. The experience gained by lumbermen and forest settlers had made them more cautious than before, and more expert in the fighting of fires; but that year was one in which no human knowledge seemed to avail against the progress of flames once started on their career of devastation.
During the summer, several fires had burned over large areas. By the last week of July, it was estimated that five million dollars' worth of standing pine had been destroyed. The burned and burning area was now over fifty miles in width, the northern limit being some forty miles south of Superior. Upon the 27th of the month, the prosperous town of Phillips, wholly surrounded by deforested lands, was suddenly licked up by the creeping flames, the terrified inhabitants escaping by the aid of a railway train. Neighboring towns, which suffered to a somewhat less degree, were Mason, Barronett, and Shell Lake.
In 1898 Wisconsin was again a heavy sufferer from the same cause. The fires were chiefly in Barron county, upon the 29th and 30th of September. Two hundred fifty-eight families were left destitute, and the loss to land and property was estimated at $400,000. Relief agencies were established in various cities of the state, and our people responded as liberally to the urgent call for help as they had in 1871 and 1894.
A more competent official system of scientifically caring for our forests, restricting the present wasteful cutting of timber, and preventing and fighting forest fires, would be of incalculable benefit to the State of Wisconsin. The annual loss by burning is alone a terrible drain upon the resources of the people, to say nothing of the death and untold misery which stalk in the wake of a forest fire.
BADGERS IN WAR TIME
The men of Wisconsin who had fought and conquered the hard conditions of frontier life, developing a raw wilderness into a wealthy and progressive commonwealth, were of the sort to make the best of soldiers when called upon to take up arms in behalf of the nation.
From the earliest days of the War of Secession until its close, Wisconsin troops were ever upon the firing line, and participated in some of the noblest victories of the long and painful struggle. General Sherman, in his "Memoirs," paid them this rare tribute: "We estimated a Wisconsin regiment equal to an ordinary brigade." It is impracticable in one brief chapter to do more than mention a few of the most brilliant achievements of the Badger troops.
In April, 1862, the Fourteenth, Sixteenth, and Eighteenth Wisconsin infantry regiments, although new in the service, won imperishable laurels upon the bloody field of Shiloh. The men of the Fourteenth were especially prominent in the fray. Arriving on the ground at midnight of the first day, they passed the rest of the night in a pelting rain, standing ankle-deep in mud; and throughout all the next day fought as though they were hardened veterans.
A Kentucky regiment was ordered to charge a Confederate battery, but fell back in confusion; whereupon General Grant asked if the Fourteenth Wisconsin could do the work. Its colonel cried, "We will try!" and then followed one of the most gallant charges of the entire war. Thrice driven back, the Wisconsin men finally captured the battery; confusion ensued in the Confederate ranks, and very soon the battle of Shiloh was a Union victory.
In the Peninsular campaign of the same year, the Fifth Regiment made a bayonet charge which routed and scattered the Confederates, and turned the scales in favor of the North. In an address to the regiment two days later, General McClellan declared: "Through you we won the day, and Williamsburg shall be inscribed on your banner. Your country owes you its grateful thanks." His report to the War Department describes this charge as "brilliant in the extreme."
Some of the highest honors of the war were awarded to the gallant Iron Brigade, composed of the Second, Sixth, and Seventh Wisconsin, the Nineteenth Indiana, and the Twenty-fourth Michigan. At Gainesville, in the Shenandoah Valley campaign, also in 1862, this brigade practically won the fight, the brunt of the Confederate assault being met by the Second Wisconsin, which that day lost sixty per cent of its rank and file; the brigade itself suffered a loss of nine hundred men.
The Third opened the battle at Cedar Mountain, and very soon after that was at Antietam, where it lost two-thirds of the men it took into action. The Fifth also was prominent near by, and the Iron Brigade, behind a rail fence, conducted a fight which was one of the chief events of the engagement.
At the battle of Corinth, several Wisconsin regiments and four of her batteries won some of the brightest honors. In the various official reports of the action, such comments as the following are frequent: "This regiment (the Fourteenth) was the one to rely upon in every emergency;" a fearless dash by the Seventeenth regiment, one general described as "the most glorious charge of the campaign"; there was an allusion to the Eighteenth's "most effectual service"; in referring to the Sixth battery, mention is made in the reports, of "its noble work."
At Chaplin Hills, in Kentucky, a few days later, the First Wisconsin drove back the enemy several times, and captured a stand of Confederate colors. The Tenth was seven hours under fire, and lost fifty-four per cent of its number. General Rousseau highly praised both regiments, saying, "These brave men are entitled to the gratitude of the country." The Fifteenth captured heavy stores of ammunition and many prisoners; the Twenty-fifth repulsed, with withering fire, a superior force of the enemy, who had suddenly assaulted them while lying in a cornfield; and the Fifth battery three times turned back a Confederate charge, "saving the division," as General McCook reported, "from a disgraceful defeat."
At Prairie Grove, in Arkansas, at Fredericksburg, and at Stone River, still later in the campaign of 1862, Wisconsin soldiers exhibited what General Sherman described as "splendid conduct, bravery, and efficiency."
Men of Wisconsin were also prominent in the Army of the Potomac, during the famous "mud campaign" of the early months of 1863. At the crossing of the Rappahannock, theirs was the dangerous duty to protect the makers of the pontoon bridges. In the course of this service, the Iron Brigade made a splendid dash across the river, charged up the opposite heights, and at the point of the bayonet routed the Confederates who were intrenched in rifle pits.
At Chancellorsville, the Third Wisconsin, detailed to act as a barrier to the advance of the Confederates under Stonewall Jackson, was the last to leave the illfated field.
At Fredericksburg, not far away, the Fifth Wisconsin and the Sixth Maine led a desperate charge up Marye's Hill, where, in a sunken roadway, lay a large force of the enemy; this force, a few months before, had killed six thousand Union men who were vainly attempting to rout them. This second and final charge overcame all difficulties, and succeeded. As the Confederate commander handed to the colonel of the Wisconsin regiment his sword and silver spurs, he told the victor that he had supposed there were not enough troops in the Army of the Potomac to carry the position; it was, he declared, the most daring assault he had ever seen. Such, too, was the judgment of Greeley, who declared that "Braver men never smiled on death than those who climbed Marye's Hill on that fatal day." The correspondent of the _London Times_ also wrote, "Never at Fontenoy, Albuera, nor at Waterloo was more undaunted courage displayed."
In the campaign which resulted in the fall of Vicksburg, in 1863, numerous Wisconsin regiments participated, many of them with conspicuous gallantry. It was an officer of the Twenty-third who received, at the base of the works, the offer of the Confederates to surrender.
The part taken by Wisconsin troops at Gettysburg, was conspicuous. The Iron Brigade and a Wisconsin company of sharpshooters were, day by day, in the thickest of the fight, and gained a splendid record. At Chickamauga, several of our regiments fought under General Thomas, and lost heavily. They afterward participated in the struggle at Mission Ridge, which resulted in the Confederate army under Bragg being turned back into Central Georgia.
The Iron Brigade was in Grant's campaign against Richmond, serving gallantly in the battles of the Wilderness, in the "bloody angle" at Spottsylvania, at Fair Oaks, and in the numerous attacks before Petersburg.
Wisconsin contributed heavily to the army of Sherman, in his "march to the sea," and in the preliminary contests won distinction on many a bitterly contested field. Several of our regiments were in the assault on Mobile, the day when Lee was surrendering to Grant, in far-off Virginia. Others of the Badger troops, infantry and cavalry, served in Louisiana, Texas, and Arkansas, fighting the Confederate guerillas, while our artillerymen were distributed throughout the several Union armies, and served gallantly until the last days of the war.
Wisconsin soldiers languished in most of the great Southern military prisons. A thrilling escape of Union men from Libby Prison, at Richmond, was made in February, 1864, by means of a secret tunnel. This was ingeniously excavated under the superintendence of a party of which Colonel H. C. Hobart of the Twenty-first Wisconsin was a leader.
Another notable event of the war, of which a Wisconsin man was the hero, occurred during the night of the 27th of October, 1864. The Confederate armored ram _Albemarle_, after having sunk several Union vessels, was anchored off Plymouth, North Carolina, a town which was being attacked by Federal troops and ships. Lieutenant W. B. Cushing of Delafield, Waukesha county, proceeded to the _Albemarle_ in a small launch, under cover of the dark; and, in the midst of a sharp fire from the crew of the ram, placed a torpedo under her bow and blew her up. The daring young officer escaped to his ship, amid appalling difficulties, having won worldwide renown by his splendid feat.