Chapter VI: Part 6

President Strang was a very busy man as the head of the Voree branch of the Mormon church. He obtained a printing outfit, and published a little weekly paper called _Gospel Herald_, besides hundreds of pamphlets, all written by himself, in which he assailed the "Brighamites" in the same violent manner as they attacked him in their numerous publications. He also, with his missionaries, conducted meetings in Ohio, New York, and other States in the East, gathering converts for Voree, and boldly repelling the wordy attacks of the Brighamites, whose agents were working the same fields.

Despite some backslidings, and occasional quarrels within its ranks, Voree grew and prospered. By 1849 there was a partially built stone temple there, which is thus described by an imaginative letter writer of the time: "It covers two and one-sixth acres of ground, has twelve towers, and the great hall two hundred feet square in the center. The entire walls are eight feet through, the floors and roofs are to be marble, and when finished it will be the grandest building in the world."

Nevertheless, it was early seen by Strang that the growing opposition of neighboring settlers would in the end cause the Mormons to leave Wisconsin, just as the Nauvoo fanatics were compelled (in 1846) to flee from Illinois, to plant their stake in the wilderness of the Far West.

He therefore made preparations for a place of refuge for his people, when persecutions should become unbearable. In journeying by vessel, upon one of his missions, he had taken note of the isolation of an archipelago of large, beautiful, well-wooded islands near the foot of Lake Michigan. The month of May, 1846, found him with four companions upon Beaver Island, in this far-away group. They built a log cabin, arranged for a boat, and returned to Voree to prepare for the migration of the faithful.

The new colony at first grew slowly, but by the summer of 1849 the "saints" began to arrive in goodly numbers. Strang himself now headed the settlement; and thereafter Voree ceased to be headquarters for the "Primitive Mormons," as they called themselves, although a few remained in the neighborhood.

Very soon, about two thousand devotees were gathered within the "City of St. James," on Beaver Island, with well-tilled farms, neat houses, a sawmill, roads, docks, and a large temple. A hill near by they renamed Mount Pisgah, and a River Jordan and a Sea of Galilee were not far away.

One beautiful day in July, 1850, Strang, arrayed in a robe of bright red, was, with much ceremony, crowned by his "apostles" as "King of the Kingdom of St. James." Foreign ambassadors were appointed, and a royal press was set up, for the flaying of his enemies. Schools and debating clubs were opened; the community system was abolished; tithes were collected for the support of the government; tea, coffee, and tobacco were prohibited; and even the dress of the people was regulated by law. Never was there a king more absolute than Strang; doubtless, for a time, he thought his dream of empire realized at last, and that here in this unknown corner of the world the "saints" might remain forever unmolested.

But the sylvan archipelago, and Beaver Island itself, had other inhabitants; these were rude, sturdy, illiterate fishermen, who lived in huts along the coast, and had little patience with the fantastic performances of their neighbors, King Strang and the court of St. James. His majesty had, also, jealous enemies among his own subjects.

Trouble soon ensued. The fishermen frequently assaulted the "saints," and carried on a petty warfare against the colony at large, in which the county sheriff was soon engaged; for false charges came to be entered against these strange but inoffensive people, and they were now and then thrown into jail. The king, thereupon, in self-defence, "went into politics." Having so many votes at his command, he easily secured the election of Mormons to all the county offices, and of himself to the legislature of Michigan.

But despite these victories over outside foes, matters at home went from bad to worse. The enemies in his camp multiplied, for his increasingly despotic rule gave them abundance of grievances. At last, about the middle of June, 1856, two of the malcontents shot their monarch from behind. He was taken by vessel to his old home in Voree, where he was tenderly cared for until his death, a month later, by his poor, neglected wife, who had remained behind when he went forth to the island. His kingdom did not long survive him. The unruly fishermen came one day with ax and torch, leveled the royal city to the ground, and banished the frightened "saints."

To-day the White River prairie gives no evidence of having once borne the city of Zion, and even in the Michigan archipelago there remain few visible relics of the marvelous reign of King Strang.

THE WISCONSIN BOURBON

Two years after Louis the XVI., Bourbon king of France, and his beautiful queen, Marie Antoinette, were beheaded by the revolutionists in Paris, in the closing decade of the eighteenth century, their imbecile child of eight years, called the "dauphin," was officially reported to have died in prison. But the story was started at the time, and popularly believed, that the real dauphin, Louis the XVII., had been stolen by the royalists, and another child cunningly substituted to die there in his place. The story went that the dauphin had been sent to America, and that all traces of him were lost; thus was given to any adventurer of the requisite age, and sufficiently obscure birth, an opportunity to seek such honor as might be gained in claiming identity with the escaped prisoner.

Great was the excitement in the United States, when, in 1853, it was confidently announced by a New York magazine writer that the long lost prince had at last been discovered, in the person of the middle-aged Eleazer Williams, an Episcopal missionary to the Oneida Indians at Little Kaukauna, in the lower valley of the Fox.

The Bonaparte family, represented by Louis Napoleon, were just then in control of France; but the Bourbon family, of which Louis the XVII., were he alive, would naturally be the head, considered themselves rightful hereditary masters of that country. Of course, there was at the time no opportunity for any Bourbon actually to occupy the French throne; but the people of that country are highly emotional, revolutions have been numerous among them, and displaced royalists are always hoping for some turn in affairs which may enable them once more to gain the government. It was this possible chance of the Bourbons getting into power once more, that added interest to the story.

Let us see what sort of person this Eleazer Williams of Wisconsin was, and how it came about that he made the assertion that he was the head of the Bourbons, and an uncrowned king. It had heretofore been supposed by every one who knew him that he was the son of Mohawk Indian parents, both of whom had white blood in their veins, living just over the New York border, in Canada. Certain Congregationalists had induced this couple to allow two of their sons, Thomas and Eleazer, to be educated in New England as missionaries to the Indians; and for several years they attended academies there, becoming fairly proficient in English, although their aboriginal manners were not much improved.

At last returning to his Canadian home, Eleazer neglected his Congregational benefactors, and soon became interested in the Episcopal Church. He would have become one of its missionaries at once, but just at that time the War of 1812-15 broke out; and instead he became a spy in the pay of the United States, conveying to his employers important information concerning the movements of British troops in Canada. When the war was over, having, as an American spy, incurred the dislike of the Canadian Mohawks, he was sent as an Episcopal missionary to the Oneida Indians, then living in Oneida county, New York.

Williams appears to have differed from the ordinary Indian type, although he was thickset, dark haired, and swarthy of skin. Some took him to be a Spaniard; others there were who thought him French; and comments which he had heard, concerning his slight resemblance to the pictures of the Bourbons, doubtless caused Eleazer in later years to pretend to be the lost dauphin. He was a fair orator, and in his earlier years succeeded well in persuading the simple red men about him. His plausible manner, and this ease of persuasion, finally led him astray.

The Oneida Indians in New York and their neighbors (formerly from New England), the Munsees, Stockbridges, and Brothertowns, were just then being crowded out of that State. A great company had acquired the right from the federal government to purchase the lands held by these Indians, whenever they cared to dispose of them. In order to hurry matters, the company began to sow among the poor natives the seeds of discontent.

Certain of their leaders, among them Williams, advocated emigration to the West. It appears that Williams, who was a born intriguer, conceived the ambitious idea of taking advantage of this movement to establish an Indian empire in the country west of Lake Michigan, with himself as dictator.

Moved by the clamor of the red men, the federal government sent a delegation to Wisconsin, in 1820, to see whether the tribes west of the lake would consent to accept the New York Indians as neighbors. This delegation was headed by Dr. Jedediah Morse, a celebrated geographer and missionary. Morse visited Mackinac and Green Bay, and returned with the report that the valley of the lower Fox was the most suitable place in which to make a settlement. That very summer, Williams himself, with several other headmen, had on their own account journeyed as far as Detroit on a similar errand, but returned without discovering a location.

The owners of the land selected by Morse were the Menominees and Winnebagoes, with whom Williams and his followers held a council at Green Bay, the following year. A treaty was signed, by which the New York Indians were granted a large strip of land, four miles wide, at Little Chute.

The ensuing year (1822), at a new council held at Green Bay, the New Yorkers asked for still more land. The Winnebagoes, much incensed, withdrew from the treaty, but the Menominees were won over by Williams's eloquence, and granted an extraordinary cession, making the New York Indians joint owners with themselves of all Menominee territory, which then embraced very nearly a half of all the present State of Wisconsin.

Ten years of quarreling followed, for there was at once a reaction from this remarkable spirit of generosity. In 1832 there was concluded a final treaty, apparently satisfactory to most of those concerned, and soon thereafter a large number of New York Indians removed hither. The Oneidas and Munsees established themselves upon Duck Creek, near the mouth of the Fox, and the Stockbridges and Brothertowns east of Lake Winnebago. As for Williams, the jealousies and bickerings among his people soon caused him to lose control over them, thus giving the deathblow to his wild dreams of empire.

During the next twenty years, in which he continued to serve as a missionary to the Wisconsin Oneidas, Williams was a well-known and picturesque character. His home was on the west bank of the river, about a mile below Little Kaukauna. Although a man of much vigor and strength of mind, he soon came to be recognized as an unscrupulous fellow by the majority of both whites and reds in the lower Fox, and his clerical brethren, East as well as West, appear to have regarded him with more or less contempt.

Baffled in several fields of notoriety which he had worked, Williams suddenly posed before the American public, in 1853, as the hereditary sovereign of France. He was too young by eight years to be the lost dauphin; that he was clearly of Indian origin was proved by a close examination of his color, form, and feature; his dusky parents protested under oath that the wayward Eleazer was their son; every allegation of his in regard to the matter has often been exposed as false; and all his neighbors who knew him treated his claims as fraudulent.

Nevertheless, he succeeded in deceiving a number of good people, including several leading clergymen of his church; one of the latter attempted in an elaborate book, "The Lost Prince," to prove conclusively that Williams was indeed the son of the executed monarch.

The pretensions of Eleazer Williams, who dearly loved the notoriety which this discussion awakened, extended through several years. They even won some little attention in France, but far less than here, for several other men had claimed to be the lost dauphin, so that the pretension was not a new one over there. Louis Philippe, the head of the Bourbon-Orleans family in France, sent him a present of some finely bound books, believing him the innocent victim of a delusion; but, further than that, and a chance meeting at Green Bay, between Eleazer Williams and another French royalist, the Prince de Joinville, then on his travels through America, the family in France paid no attention to the adventurous half-breed American Indian who claimed to be one of them.

The reputation of Williams as a missionary had at last fallen so low, and the neglect of his duties was so persistent, that his salary was withdrawn by the Episcopal Church, and his closing years were spent in poverty. He died in 1858, maintaining his absurd claims to the last.

SLAVE CATCHING IN WISCONSIN

There had been a few negro slaves in Wisconsin before the organization of the Territory and during Territorial days. They had for the most part been brought in by lead miners from Kentucky and Missouri. But, as the population increased, it was seen that public opinion here, as in most of the free States, was strongly opposed to the practice of holding human beings as chattels. Gradually the dozen or more slaves were returned to the South, or died in service, or were freed by their masters; so that, at an early day, the slavery question had ceased to be of local importance here.

As the years passed on, and the people of the North became more and more opposed to the slave system of the South, the latter lost an increasing number of its slaves through escape to Canada. They were assisted in their flight by Northern sympathizers, who, secretly receiving them on the north bank of the Ohio River, passed them on from friend to friend until they reached the Canadian border. As this system of escape was contrary to law, it had to be conducted, by both white rescuers and black fugitives, with great privacy, often with much peril to life; hence it received the significant, popular name of "The Underground Railroad." Wisconsin had but small part in the working of the underground railroad, because it was not upon the usual highway between the South and Canada. But our people took a firm stand on the matter, sympathizing with the fugitive slaves and those who aided them on their way to freedom.

When, therefore, Congress, in 1850, at the bidding of the Southern politicians, passed the Fugitive Slave Law, Wisconsin bitterly condemned it. This act was designed to crush out the underground railroad. It provided for the appointment, by federal courts, of commissioners in the several States, whose duty it should be to assist slaveholders and their agents in catching their runaway property. The unsupported testimony of the owner or agent was sufficient to prove ownership, the black man himself having no right to testify, and there being for him no trial by jury. The United States commissioners might enforce the law by the aid of any number of assistants, and, in the last resort, might summon the entire population to help them. There were very heavy penalties provided for violations of this inhuman law.

The Fugitive Slave Law was denounced by most of the political conventions held in our State that year. In his message to the legislature, in January, 1851, Governor Dewey expressed the general sentiment when he said that it "contains provisions odious to our people, contrary to our sympathies, and repugnant to our feelings." But it was three years before occasion arose for Wisconsin to act.

In the early months of 1854, a negro named Joshua Glover appeared in Racine, and obtained work in a sawmill four miles north of that place. On the night of the 10th of March, he was playing cards in his little cabin, with two other men of his race. Suddenly there appeared at the door seven well-armed white men,--two United States deputy marshals from Milwaukee, their four assistants from Racine, and a St. Louis man named Garland, who claimed to be Glover's owner.

A desperate struggle followed, the result being that Glover, deserted by his comrades and knocked senseless by a blow, was placed in chains by his captors.

Severely bleeding from his wounds, he was thrown into an open wagon and carted across country to the Milwaukee county jail, for the man hunters feared to go to Racine, where the antislavery feeling was strong. It was a bitter cold night, and Glover's miseries were added to by the brutal Garland, who at intervals kicked and beat the prisoner, and promised him still more serious punishment upon their return to the Missouri plantation.

The news of the capture was not long in reaching Racine. The next morning there was held in the city square a public meeting, attended by nearly every citizen, at which resolutions were passed denouncing the act of the kidnapers as an outrage; demanding for Glover a trial by jury; promising "to attend in person to aid him, by all honorable means, to secure his unconditional release"; and, most significant of all, resolving that the people of Racine "do hereby declare the slave catching law of 1850 disgraceful and also repealed." There were many such nullifying resolutions passed in those stirring days by mass meetings throughout the country, but this was one of the earliest and most outspoken. That afternoon, on hearing where Glover had been imprisoned, a hundred indignant citizens of Racine, headed by the sheriff, went by steamer to Milwaukee, arriving there at five o'clock.

Meanwhile, Milwaukee had been active. News of the capture had not been circulated in that city until eleven o'clock in the morning. One of the first to learn of it was Sherman M. Booth, the energetic editor of a small antislavery paper, the _Wisconsin Free Democrat_. Riding up and down the streets upon a horse, he scattered handbills, and, stopping at each crossing, shouted: "Freemen, to the rescue! Slave catchers are in our midst! Be at the courthouse at two o'clock!"

Prompt to the hour, over five thousand people assembled in the courthouse square, where Booth and several other "liberty men" made impassioned speeches. A vigilance committee was appointed, to see that Glover had a fair trial, and the county judge issued in his behalf a writ of _habeas corpus_, calling for an immediate trial, and a show of proofs. But the federal judge, A. G. Miller, forbade the sheriff to obey this writ, holding that Glover must remain in the hands of the United States marshal, in whose custody he was placed by virtue of the Fugitive Slave Law.

The local militia were called out to suppress the disorder, but they were without power. It soon became noised about that Glover was to be secretly removed to Missouri. This made the mob furious. Just at this time the Racine contingent arrived, adding oil to the flames. The reenforced crowd now marched to the jail, attacked the weak structure with axes, beams, and crowbars, rescued the fugitive just at sunset, and hurried him off. An underground railroad agency took the poor fellow in charge, and soon placed him aboard a sailing vessel bound for Canada, where he finally arrived in safety.

Throughout Wisconsin the rescue was approved by the newspapers and public gatherings. Sympathetic meetings were also held in other States, at which resolutions applauding the action of Booth and his friends, and declaring the slave catching law unconstitutional, were passed with much enthusiasm. There was also held at Milwaukee, in April, a notable State convention, with delegates from all of the settled parts of the commonwealth; this convention declared the law unconstitutional, and formed a State league for furnishing aid and sympathy to the Glover rescuers.

In 1857, as a result of the Glover affair, the Wisconsin legislature passed an act making it a duty of district attorneys in each county "to use all lawful means to protect, defend, and procure to be discharged ... every person arrested or claimed as a fugitive slave," and throwing around the poor fellow every possible safeguard. Such was Wisconsin's final protest against the iniquity of the Fugitive Slave Law.

Naturally, Booth had been looked upon by the United States marshal as the chief abettor of the riot. He was promptly arrested for violating a federal law by aiding in the escape of a slave; but the State supreme court promptly discharged him on a writ of _habeas corpus_. Thereupon he was brought before the federal court, but again the State court interfered in his favor, because of a technical irregularity.

On the first of these occasions, the State court issued a very remarkable decision upon State rights, that attracted national attention at a time when this question was violently agitating the public mind. It declared, after a clear, logical statement of the case, that the Fugitive Slave Law was "unconstitutional and void" because it conferred judicial power upon mere court commissioners, and deprived the accused negro of the right of trial by jury. One of the justices of the court, in an individual opinion, went still further: he held that Congress had no power to legislate upon this subject; that "the States will never quietly submit to be disrobed of their sovereignty" by "national functionaries"; that the police power rested in the State itself, which would not "succumb, paralyzed and aghast, before the process of an officer unknown to the constitution, and irresponsible to its sanctions"; and that so long as he remained a judge, Wisconsin would meet such attempts with "stern remonstrance and resistance."

The federal court reversed this action, and again arrested Booth in 1860, but he was soon pardoned by the President, and met with no further trouble on account of the Glover affair.

As for the people of Racine, they made life rather uncomfortable for the men who had assisted the Milwaukee deputy marshals in arresting Glover. The city became a fiercer hotbed of abolition than ever before, and several times thereafter aided slaves to escape from bondage. Fortunately for their own good, as well as for the cause of law and order, they found no further occasion to take the law into their own hands, in the defense of human liberty.

THE STORY OF A FAMOUS CHIEF

One of the best-known Indians with whom Wisconsin Territorial pioneers were thrown into personal contact was Oshkosh, the last of the Menominee sachems, or peace chiefs. It is worth while briefly to relate the story of his career, because it was the life of a typical Indian leader, at the critical time when the whites were coming into the country in such numbers as to crowd the reds to the wall.

Oshkosh was born in 1795, at Point Bas, on the Wisconsin River. Cha-kau-cho-ka-ma (meaning Old King), the peace chief of the Menominees at that time, was his maternal grandfather. The war chief was Glode, the orator of the tribe, and a mighty hunter. The Old King lived until 1826, but Glode died in 1804, his successor being Tomah (the French pronunciation of Thomas, his English name).

In the War of 1812-15, a large band of Wisconsin Indians joined the ranks of Tecumseh, in raiding upon the American borderers. The principal Menominee chiefs were Tomah, Souligny, Grizzly Bear, and Iometah, and among the young men was Oshkosh.

Their first expedition was against Fort Mackinac, in 1812, that stronghold being captured from the Americans without bloodshed. Among white men, such an enterprise would not seem to offer much opportunity for the display of personal bravery; but savage and civilized standards of courage differ, and young Oshkosh appears to have satisfied the old men upon this occasion, so that he then received the name by which we know him, meaning in the Menominee tongue, "brave."

By the following May, Oshkosh, now in his nineteenth year, and prominent among the young warriors, went out with Souligny and Tomah, and joined Tecumseh in the siege of Fort Meigs at the rapids of the Maumee River. Later, during the same summer, he was engaged in the memorable British-Indian siege of Sandusky. The succeeding year he was one of a large party of Menominees assisting the British to repel a fierce but futile American attempt to recapture Fort Mackinac. This was his last campaign, for peace between Great Britain and the United States soon followed.

Oshkosh, now living upon the lands of the tribe in northeastern Wisconsin, appears to have passed a quiet existence, after his exploits of 1812-15. Lacking the stimulus of war, he maintained a state of artificial excitement by the use of fire water, and soon won a bad reputation in this regard. But he was not wholly debased. Few in council had more power than he. Although he was slow to speak, his opinion when given had much weight, because of a firm, resolute tone, beside which the impassioned flights of Tomah and Souligny often failed in effect.

When the Old King died without any sons, a contest arose over the successorship to the chieftaincy. In many tribes there would have been no question about the election of Oshkosh, for he was the son of Old King's daughter; but the Menominees did not recognize any heirship except through sons. So many claimants arose, each determined to fight for the position, that the United States government feared an outbreak of civil war within the tribe, with possible injuries to the neighboring white settlers.

Hence a court of claims was organized, to choose a chief among the contestants. This court, headed by Governor Lewis Cass, of Michigan Territory, met at Little Butte des Morts (near Neenah) in August, 1827, and selected Oshkosh. Cass, in the presence of the tribesmen, hung a medal about the neck of the victor, shook hands with him, and ordered a feast in honor of the event.

The first five years of the reign of this dusky chieftain were peaceful enough, so far as relations with other tribes were concerned. But within the Menominee villages there were frequent drunken frolics, which sometimes ended in bloodshed or in endless disputes between families; and in these disturbances, which often greatly alarmed the white settlers, Oshkosh had his full share.

When in June, 1832, the great Sac leader, Black Hawk, was harassing the settlements in northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin, while being slowly driven northward by the white troops, fears were entertained in the valley of the lower Fox that he would turn toward Green Bay. With the hope of preventing this, a force of three hundred Menominee Indians was recruited there, and sent to the seat of war, officered by American and French residents. Oshkosh headed his people, but arrived too late to do any fighting; Black Hawk had already been vanquished by white soldiers, at the battle of the Bad Ax. Oshkosh and his braves found no more savage foe than a small party of Sacs, old men and women and children, flying from the battlefield, and these they promptly massacred, proudly carrying the scalps back with them to Green Bay.

Four years later, the Menominees sold all of their lands in Wisconsin to the federal government, and were placed upon the reservation at Keshena, where they still live.

In 1840, the little four-year-old white settlement at the junction of the upper Fox with Lake Winnebago thought itself large enough to have a post office, hence the necessity for adopting a permanent name. The place had at first been known to travelers as Stanley's Tavern, because here a man named Stanley ran a ferry across Fox River, and kept a log hotel. Then the Green Bay merchants fell into the habit of marking "Athens" on boxes and bales which the boatmen carried up to Stanley's.

When the question arose over the name for the post office, there were several candidates, "Osceola," "Galeopolis," and "Athens" being prominent. Robert Grignon, a French fur trader at Grand Butte des Morts, desiring to be on good terms with his Menominee neighbors, proposed "Oshkosh." Thereupon party spirit ran high. Upon a day named, a popular election without distinction of race was held at the office of the justice of the peace, who provided a free dinner to the voters; among them were a score of Indians, brought in by Grignon. Several ballots were taken, between which speeches were made in behalf of the rivals. "Oshkosh" finally won, chiefly by the votes of Grignon's Indians. Harmony was soon restored, and the election ended in drink and smoke, after the fashion of border gatherings in those days.

We hear little more of old chief Oshkosh, until fifteen years later. In the year 1852 occurred a kidnaping case, which became famous in the frontier annals of Wisconsin. Nahkom, a Menominee squaw, was accused of having stolen a little white boy, the son of Alvin Partridge, of the town of Neenah, in Winnebago county. The Indians stoutly denied the truth of this accusation; indeed, Partridge himself failed to recognize his lost son in the person of Nahkom's boy. But the relatives and neighbors of Partridge were confident as to the identity, and the bereaved father was induced to ask aid of the courts in obtaining the child.

The case hung fire for three years, the courts always deciding in favor of Nahkom, although Partridge regained temporary possession of the boy under writs of _habeas corpus_. Finally, pending the decision of a Milwaukee judge upon the application for a writ, the little fellow was placed in the jail of that city. From there the Partridges kidnaped him and fled to Kansas, leaving poor Nahkom childless, for undoubtedly it was a case of mistaken identity, and the child was really hers. Ultimately the boy was found and restored to her.

This was in 1855. Oshkosh and a number of Menominee headmen went at once to Milwaukee, upon learning of the jail delivery, and laid their complaints before the judge. Recognizing the press as a medium of communication with the public, Oshkosh and Souligny also visited the editor of the _Sentinel_, asking him to state their grievance and plead their cause. The speech which Oshkosh made to the editor was given in full in that paper, and is a good specimen of the direct, earnest method in Indian oratory.

He said, among other things: "Governor Dodge told us that our great father [the President] was very strong, and owned all the country; and that no one would dare to trouble us, or do us wrong, as he would protect us. He told us, too, that whenever we got into difficulty or anything happened we did not like, to call on our great father and he would see justice done. And now we come to you to remind our great father, through your paper, of his promise, and to ask him to fulfil it.... We thought our child safe in the jail in the care of the officers; that none could get the child away from them unless the law gave them the right. We cannot but think it must have been an evil spirit that got into the jail and took away our child. We thought the white man's law strong, and are sorry to find it so weak." Upon the conclusion of his visit, Oshkosh and his friends returned to their reservation, determined never again to mingle with the deceitful and grasping whites.

Upon their way home to Keshena, Oshkosh stopped at the thriving little city which had been christened for him, and expressed pride at having so large a namesake. It was his first and only visit. Three years later he died in a drunken brawl, aged sixty-three years. He was a good Indian, as savages go, his chief vice being one borrowed from the whites, who forced themselves upon his lands and contaminated him and his people.

A FIGHT FOR THE GOVERNORSHIP

Between the time when Wisconsin became a state (1848), and the opening of the War of Secession (1861), party feeling ran high within the new commonwealth. Charges of corruption against public officials were freely made; many men sought office for the plunder supposed to be obtained by those "inside the ring"; newspaper editors appeared to be chiefly engaged in savage attacks on the reputations of those who differed from them, and general political demoralization was prevalent. When, however, important issues arose out of the discussions of the strained relations between North and South, a higher and more patriotic tone was at once evident, and this has ever since been maintained in Wisconsin politics.

The most striking event of the years of petty partisan strife which preceded the war, was the fight for the governorship of the State, between William A. Barstow and Coles Bashford.

Barstow, a Democrat from Waukesha county, had been secretary of state during Governor Dewey's second term (1850-51). Owing to bitterness occasioned by the rejection of the first State constitution, the Democratic party in Wisconsin was torn into factions, at the head of one of which was Barstow. While serving as secretary of state, he made many enemies, who freely accused him of rank official dishonesty, and associated him with the corrupt methods of the early railway companies which were just then seeking charters from the legislature. Nevertheless, like all strong, positive men, he had won for himself warm friends, who secured his election as governor for the year 1854-55.

His enemies, however, grew in number, and their accusations increased in bitterness. His party renominated him for governor; but he had lost ground during the term, and could not draw out his full party strength in the November election of 1855. Besides, the new Republican party, although as yet in the minority, was making rapid strides, and voted solidly for its nominee, Bashford, a Winnebago county lawyer. As a result, the voting for governor proved so close that for a full month no one knew the outcome. Meanwhile there was, of course, much popular excitement, with charges of fraud on both sides.

Finally, in December, the State board of canvassers met at Madison. It consisted of the secretary of state, the State treasurer, and the attorney-general, all of them Barstow men. Their report was that he had received one hundred fifty-seven more votes than his opponent. The Republicans at once advanced the serious charge that the canvassers had deliberately forged supplemental returns from several counties, pretending to receive them upon the day before the count. Large numbers of people soon came to believe that fraud had been committed, and Bashford prepared for a contest.

Upon the day in early January when Barstow was inaugurated at the capitol, with the usual military display, Bashford stepped into the supreme court room and was quietly sworn in by the chief justice. Thereupon Bashford appealed to the court to turn Barstow out, and declare him the rightful governor.

There followed a most remarkable lawsuit. The constitution provides that the State government shall consist of three branches, legislative, judicial, and executive. It was claimed that never before in the history of any of the States in the Union had one branch of the government been called upon to decide between rival claimants to a position in another branch. Barstow's lawyers, of course, denied the jurisdiction of the court to pass upon the right of the governor to hold his seat; for, they argued, if this were possible, then the judiciary would be superior to the people, and no one could hold office to whom the judges were not friendly. There was a fierce struggle, for several weeks, between the opposing lawyers, who were among the most learned men of the State, with the result that the court decided that it had jurisdiction; and, on nearly every point raised, ruled in favor of the Bashford men.

Before the decision of the case, Barstow and his lawyers withdrew, declaring that the judges were influenced against them by political prejudices. However, the court proceeded without them, and declared that the election returns had been tampered with, and that Bashford really had one thousand nine majority. He was accordingly declared to have been elected governor.

This conclusion had been expected by Barstow, who, determined not to be put out of office, resigned his position three days before the court rendered its decision. Immediately upon Barstow's resignation, his friend, the lieutenant governor, Arthur McArthur, took possession of the office. He claimed that he was now the rightful governor, for the constitution provides that in the event of the resignation, death, or inability of the governor, the lieutenant governor shall succeed him. But the supreme court at once ruled that, as Barstow's title was worthless, McArthur could not succeed to it, a logical view of the case which the Barstow sympathizers had not foreseen.

It was upon Monday, March the 24th, that the court rendered its decision. Bashford announced that he would take possession of the office upon Tuesday. There had been great popular uneasiness in Madison and the neighboring country, throughout the long struggle, and the decision brought this excitement to a crisis. Many of the adherents of both contestants armed themselves and drilled, in anticipation of an encounter which might lead to civil war within the State. There were frequent wordy quarrels upon the streets, and threats of violence; and many supposed that it would be impossible to prevent the opposing factions from fighting in good earnest.

Affairs were in this critical condition upon the fateful Tuesday. Early in the day people began to arrive in Madison from the surrounding country, as if for a popular fete. The streets and the capitol grounds were filled with excited men, chiefly adherents of Bashford; they cheered him loudly as he emerged from the supreme court room, at eleven o'clock, accompanied by the sheriff of the county, who held in his hand the order which awarded the office to Bashford.

Passing through the corridors of the capitol, now crowded with his friends, Bashford and the sheriff rapped upon the door of the governor's office. McArthur and several of his friends were inside; a voice bade the callers enter. The new governor was a large, pleasant-looking man. Leisurely taking off his coat and hat, he hung them in the wardrobe, and calmly informed McArthur that he had come to occupy the governor's chair.

"Is force to be used in supporting the order of the court?" indignantly asked the incumbent, as, glancing through the open door, he caught sight of the eager, excited crowd of Bashford's friends, whose leaders with difficulty restrained them from at once crowding into the room.

"I presume," blandly replied Bashford, "that no force will be essential; but in case any is needed, there will be no hesitation whatever in applying it, with the sheriff's help."

McArthur at once calmed down, said that he "considered this threat as constructive force," and promptly left his rival in possession. As he hurried out, through rows of his political enemies, the corridors were ringing with shouts of triumph; and in a few moments Bashford was shaking hands with the crowd, who, in the highest glee, swarmed through his office.

The legislature was divided in political sentiment. The senate received the new governor's message with enthusiasm, and by formal resolution congratulated him upon his success. The assembly at first refused, thirty-eight to thirty-four, to have anything to do with him; but upon thirty of the Democrats withdrawing, after filing a protest against the action of the court, the house agreed, thirty-seven to nine, to recognize Governor Bashford. Thereafter he had no trouble at the helm of State.

OUR FOREIGN-BORN CITIZENS

It is probable that no other State in the Union contains so many varieties of Europeans as does Wisconsin. About seventeen per cent of our entire population were born in Germany; next in numbers come the Scandinavians, natives of Great Britain, Irish, Canadians, Poles, Bohemians, Hollanders, Russians, and French.

These different nationalities are scattered all over the State; often they are found grouped in very large neighborhoods. Sometimes one of these groups is so large that, with the American-born children, it occupies entire townships, and practically controls the local churches and schools, which are generally conducted in the foreign tongue. There are extensive German, Scandinavian, and Welsh farming districts in our State where one may travel far without hearing English spoken by any one. Some crowded quarters of Milwaukee are wholly German in custom and language; and there are other streets in that city where few but Poles, Bohemians, or Russians can be found.

Although these foreign-born people, as is quite natural, generally cling with tenacity to the language, the religion, and many of the customs in which they were reared, it is noticeable that all of them are eager to learn our methods of government, and to become good citizens; and their children, when allowed to mingle freely with the youth of this country, become so thoroughly Americanized that little if any difference can be distinguished between them and those whose forefathers have lived here for several generations past.

There is, however, hardly a family in Wisconsin which is not of European origin. Some of us are descended from ancestors who chanced to come to the New World at an earlier period than did the ancestors of others of our fellow-citizens; that is all that distinguishes these "old American families" from those more recently transplanted.

It is a very interesting study to watch the gradual evolution of a new American race from the mingling on our soil of so many different nationalities, just as the English race itself was slowly built up from the old Britons, Saxons, Norsemen, and Norman French. But we must remember that this "race amalgamation," although now proceeding upon a larger scale than was probably ever witnessed before, has always been going on in America since the earliest colonial days, when English, French, Hollanders, Swedes, Scotch, and Irish were fused as in a melting pot, for the production of the American types that we meet to-day.

A variety of reasons induced foreigners to come to Wisconsin in such large numbers; they may, however, be classified under three heads, political, economic, and religious. The political reason was dissatisfaction with the government at home, chiefly because it repressed all aspiration for liberty and forced young men to sacrifice several of the best years of their lives by spending them in the army. The most powerful economic reason was inability to earn a satisfactory living in the fatherland, because worn-out soils, low prices for produce, overcrowding of population, and excessive competition among workmen resulted in starvation wages. The religious reason was the disposition of European monarchs to interfere with men's right to worship God as they pleased.

In 1830 there were serious political troubles in Germany, and thousands of dissatisfied people emigrated from that country to America. Many of the newcomers were young professional men of fine education and lofty ideals. In those early days American society was somewhat crude, especially upon the frontier. These spirited young Germans complained that, both in religion and politics, the life of our people was sordid and low, with little appreciation for the higher things of life; and especially did they resent our popular lack of appreciation of their countrymen.

Therefore, in 1835, there was formed in New York a society called "Germania," which was to induce enough Germans to settle in some one of the American States to be able to gain control of it and make it a German State, with German life and manners, with German schools, literature, and art, with German courts and assemblies, and with German as the official language. A great deal of discussion followed, as to which State should be chosen; some preferred Texas, others Oregon, but most of the members wished some State in what was then called the Northwest, between the Great Lakes and the Mississippi River. The society disbanded without result; but the agitation to which it gave rise was continued throughout many years on both sides of the ocean.

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 debris. 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.