The Wrong Kind of Ghostbusting

As soon as I saw this article, I knew I had to include it in today’s Historical Messenger. I wanted to use this as an example of literally the exact opposite of what you can expect from the paranormal investigation raffle.

It’s definitely worth noting that the newspaper reported not only the suspected con-artists’ full names but also their home address.

…And I absolutely love that “Bob Kelly” is the name these geniuses came up with for a Fifth Century sailor.

Fake Spirit Trapped – Stillwater Messenger – April 21, 1906

Minneapolis – Cowering with fear and imploring mercy from every lineament of their palid faces, Mr. and Mrs. C. Amundson, 1125 Sixth street southeast, were exposed at a private séance, and the mask was lifted so effectively that both confessed that they had been deceiving the public for years.

While the spirit of “Bob Kelly”, a sailor, who was supposed to have died 1,500 years ago, was cavorting about the parlor floor, one of the spectators in the mystic circle leaped from his seat to embrace the ethereal Kelly, and clasped instead the living Mrs. C. Amundson, dressed in black tights and her bust draped with a veil of white silk. A struggled followed. There was a crash of breaking lamps, mingled with the groans of those whot hought they had communed with the spirits of their departed loved ones, until a pocket searchlight was turned upon the quivering form of Mrs. Amundson and another revealed the blanched face of Mr. Amundson.

1965 St. Croix Valley Flood

by Brent Peterson

In a case of true Minnesotan weather, the state “enjoyed” record-breaking snowfalls across the state in late March 1965. When this coupled with raising temperatures and unusually high amounts of rain – officials began to realize a serious situation was forming. The Mississippi River and its tributaries, including the St. Croix River, were going to flood.

Knowing the devastation that surely would occur without immediate action, St. Croix Valley residents leapt into action. Every available body was needed to hold back the raising waters; high school students were released from class and even fifty inmates from the Minnesota State Prison were sent to help. Starting on April 10, 1965, construction began on a massive sandbag and earthen dike to save Stillwater’s downtown area.

Because of the large number of youths helping to build the barrier, the defensive line became known as the “Teenager’s Dike”, and was adorned with a large painted sign labeling it as such.

By April 15th, city and county officials decided that all “pedestrian or moving vehicles” be prevented from entering the business district of Stillwater. Effectively sealing off downtown Stillwater for the first time in history.

Other river communities were also facing the onslaught of water. Dikes sprung up all along the banks of the Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers. Unfortunately, many of these could not hold back the volume of water and the dikes at Mankato, North Mankato and Chaska gave way and the volunteers were ordered to higher ground after loosing the battle with the river.

But in Stillwater when the St. Croix River finally crested at 694.07 feet above sea level on Easter morning April 18th, 19 feet above normal, the “Teenager’s Dike” held.

Fifty years later, this episode remains in our memories not only for the record water levels – but for the efforts of people from all walks of life to save their community. Roger Peterson, a Stillwater city council member during the flood, recalled that he received a call from a Minneapolis man at 6 AM Easter morning and wanted to know if it would be all right if he came over with a car load of other volunteers and help in anyway he could. Peterson responded by saying, “Sure, come on over!” The man on the phone was blind.

After the crest, the city of Stillwater re-opened on April 21st. The Hooley Supermarket created a commemorative medallion. “This medallion was designed to honor those who worked so hard to save Stillwater from a flood disaster” said Jack Hooley. The medallions, that had a picture of the “Teenager’s Dike” sign on it, were given away free with every purchase at both the Hooley stores in Stillwater.

As for the eponymous paper and paint sign, it was carefully taken down when the dike was hauled away and placed into the collections of the Washington County Historical Society where it remains as a physical reminder of the strength and comradery of the St. Croix Valley communities.

It is currently on display at the Warden’s House Museum.

An Udderly Ridiculous Article

Last issue’s Old News featured several grisly deaths at the hands of accidental fires. All and all an unquestionably depressing and fairly heavy topic.

So, I offer the following article as a palate cleanser.

Row Over A Cow – Stillwater Messenger – April 7, 1906

Mrs. August Miller and Mrs. Dorothy Reinsberg, of Lakeland, and a number of their neighbors appeared in the municipal court of this city to settle a dispute that occurred about a cow that was locked up by Mrs. Reinsberg for trespassing, and which led to blows between the two women.

Mrs. Reinsberg swore out warrants for the arrest of Mr. and Mrs. Miller and Judge Doe fined the latter $1: which, with costs, amounted to $34.44.

Shortly after, Mrs. Miller commenced a suit against Mrs. Reinsberg. It is a pity that the cow did not belong to the beef trust.

Conquering Nature

by Brent Peterson

Years ago once the river froze over and the steamboats were not able to come up the river, not much of anything happened until the spring thaw. No mail, deliveries or merchandise made it to the stores or the homes of Stillwater. Until Martin Mower, lumberman and boat builder, decided to use mankind’s latest know-how to challenge Mother Nature’s might.

Mower and his brother John established a lumber mill between Stillwater and Marine in 1847. It was there that Martin started building steamboats for the St. Croix River trade. It was in the winter of 1868-69 that he first tried to create an iceboat between Stillwater and Taylor’s Falls.

Although his first craft did make several trips carrying passengers and freight between the two communities, the rough ice that was encountered was enough to dampen any thoughts of continuous service with the vehicle. Mower’s next attempt at an iceboat came in the winter of 1876-77. There he created a boat and named it the “Queen Piajuk” after the daughter of an Ojibwa chief.

According to the Stillwater Gazette of January 31, 1877, the length of the keel was forty feet, breadth of beam eight feet; depth of hull, two feet. The one boiler was made by Rosser & Dean of Dubuque, Iowa – thirty-two inches in diameter, six feet in length. Two horizontal engines, geared to equal forty-horse power and to propel two iron driving wheels four feet in diameter with cogs, or spikes, on the rims that are “similar to the driving wheels of a locomotive.” The whole thing was placed on four large sleigh runners and was steered by means of “tiller wheel and wire tiller rope, attached to the forward runners and managed from the pilot house placed near the bow.”

The Gazette continued its description of the iceboat, saying “she has a single smoke stack, while near by is the steam whistle common to steam vessels. A handsome jack staff ornaments the bow, while perched jauntily on the pilot house is the figure of a swan with its wings out-stretched as if eager to regain the graceful position on the bosom of the lake.” It was estimated that the craft would be able to travel about 10 miles an hour and would be able to make the trip from Stillwater to Taylor’s Falls, 30 miles, in three hours. However, it was also planned to pull a Pullman car that was 28 feet long and eight feet wide which would naturally extend this journey.

A trial run was to be made on January 28, 1877. Some two hundred spectators arrived up in Arcola for the Queen to be put through her paces. Steam built up but the craft did not move. Several horses and townspeople armed with crowbars tried to get the boat to move, but it didn’t.

After a week of work, the Queen finally made that maiden voyage. It was Sunday, February 4th and with whistles piercing the air that the Queen Piajuk, captain by Jack Kent, came sliding into Stillwater followed closely behind by Martin Mower driving a team of horses.

Mower would continue to work on the iceboat, which did make several successful runs up to Taylor’s Falls. The following year a test run with the Queen was postponed due to thin ice. The iceboat would jump and bounce on the rough ice and it received the nickname of the “St. Croix Grasshopper.”

It is thought that the Queen made its last voyage in 1879 from Stillwater and went back to its Arcola home. In the book, Steamboats on the St. Croix by Anita Buck, it is thought that the Queen “probably reached its home port of Arcola safely, but perhaps was dismantled there. The oak timbers from the ice craft may have been used to build the pile driver Arcola.”

The ice experiment had seemed to end. But as the newspaper said, “Looking at Queen Piajuk we feel that human ingenuity has added one more laurel to the brow of him who long since brought about the successful application of steam to annihilate space.”

Tragedies on Page Three

In a world heated by stoves and illuminated by lanterns – house fires were once a major concern of previous generations. As you can see below, Stillwater and the surrounding area were unfortunately suffering from a string of truly horrible accidents involving fire in March of 1906. I know when I opened up this newspaper, I was a bit surprised to see two articles with “Burned to Death” in the titles literally right next to each other.

At a historic level, we can take interest in noting that the editors of the Stillwater Messenger offered the victims little privacy. Full names, ages, and chilling details are available for anyone to read.

But on a personal level, it is difficult to not sympathize with these unfortunate individuals – even though more than a century has passed since these incidents. While we may accuse the vivid details presented as being macabre, has this possibly sensationalist journalism preserved the emotional impact? You’ll just have to be the judge.

Please note: The details in the two later stories are somewhat graphic.

“Fire in Dutchtown” / “Burned to Death” / “Burned to Death – Stillwater Messenger – March 24, 1906

Fire in Dutchtown

Fire destroyed the residences of Adolph Doerge and Fred Greenow, two small buildings located north of the railroad bridge on Monday night. The total loss will amount to $1,200 on both buildings, on which there was a small insurance.

Burned to Death

Albert Frenel, a French Canadian, met death in a most horrible manner at one of the James E. McGrath camps on Snake river on Sunday.

He had been to a dance, and in starting a fire, in the camp office Sunday morning, with kerosene, his clothes in some way caught fire and he died in a few minutes after going into the office.

Frenel had been a foreman for Mr. McGrath for a number of years and was well liked. He was 36 years old and single. His people live in Canada.

Burned to Death at South Stillwater

A heart rending calamity occurred at South Stillwater on Thursday afternoon.

Mrs. Emil Asp, left her home to obtain a pail of water, leaving her three year old son, Raymond, asleep in one of the rooms. She stopped to talk with a neighbor and while doing so her home took fire; the blowing of the fire alarm whistle alarmed her and with a mother’s love she tried to entering the burning building in the vain effort to save her child, but was prevented by neighbors who pulled her back. Her hair was scorched and her face was burned.

The building was burned down and all the remained of the poor child was the skull and trunk. The shock to Mrs. Asp has left in a very serious condition. It is not known how the fire originated.

Minnesota’s First Commercial Photographer

by Brent Peterson

Sarah Louise Judd was born in Farmington, Connecticut on June 26, 1802. She was educated in the local schools and then, at the age of 30, joined her family in the Marine settlement in Illinois. In 1838, three of her brothers, Lewis, Albert, and George, became stockholders in a company that went into the newly opened lands between the Mississippi and St. Croix Rivers in the Wisconsin Territory. Sarah would come to the new village of Marine Mills in 1844.

By 1845, she moved down the St. Croix to the Village of Stillwater and later that year became the first schoolteacher in Washington County when she taught school at Point Douglas. The next year she was the first teacher in Stillwater, and then taught school at Marine in 1849.

It must have been the teacher in her that in 1848 she learned how to make daguerreotypes, the earliest form of photography. Daguerreotypes were invented in France around 1835, and by 1840 the technology had spread across the Atlantic to New York City. According to Warner & Foote in the 1881 “History of Washington County and the St. Croix Valley,” “Mrs. A. Eldridge made daguerreotypes first in the spring of 1848, and continued in Stillwater two years; succeeded by Truax, Everett and others.” Sarah was bringing Western civilization’s latest advancements to the frontier. This date makes her the earliest known commercial photographer in Minnesota.

Sarah married Ariel Eldridge on January 8, 1849 by a Protestant minister. Ariel was thirteen years her junior but worked very hard in the carpentry business. He eventually started a book and stationary store, and then added a jewelry business as well. It was thought that Sarah worked with Arial in his bookstore, especially being such a well-educated woman for the time.

The Eldridge’s continued in the book business, sometime taking on partners and selling off the business just to turn around and start another. Sarah was prominent in the First Presbyterian Church and Ariel was very involved with the community, being elected to the Stillwater City Council, as a County Commissioner, and justice of the peace.

Sarah Louise Judd-Eldridge died on October 11, 1881 from “general debility” after being an invalid for some years. She was buried in Fairview Cemetery, Stillwater. Ariel later married Mrs. Sarah E. Staples of Lakeland in 1888, but they later divorced. In his final days, Ariel moved to Alma Center, Wisconsin to live with his brother. It was there that Ariel died on March 25, 1896.

Unfortunately, we do not have any examples of Sarah’s photography. How many of Minnesota’s “founding fathers” and pioneers stood before her camera? Did she capture images of Minnesota’s forests before half a century of logging had their toll on the landscape? These questions are likely to remain unanswered – but we can thank her for introducing the camera and photography to our little portion of the globe.

Vintage Advertisements

After the First World War, the United States enjoyed a period of growth and economic success. Likewise, new 20th century technological wonders were marching their way into the average household. This combination of disposable income and new consumer goods encouraged an advertising renaissance. And an excellent example of this evolution can be seen in the pages of the Stillwater Messenger.

By 1920, the relatively simple and sudued advertisements of the previous decades began taking more and more of the newspaper’s real estate. Even the words, “ADVERTISE IN MESSENGER”, can be found on the front page of the paper, which is literally an advertisement for advertisements!

When it’s all added up, nearly half of the content was comprised of ads for every type of good and service. And I really mean every type.

See below for a few examples of ads for new state-of-the-art inventions, alternative medicine, and even headstones (with a couple that really look way too happy for a funeral.)

Vintage Advertisements – Stillwater Messenger – March 10, 1920

Full Image

Calvin the Conservationist

by Brent Peterson

“The cabin as a distinct American style, or as a means to a unique and rewarding way of life, is apparently here to stay. Its simple, elemental form in our complex modern civilization has retained its color and its meaning. It persists as one of the best of our living traditions.

While the modern cabin is often so elaborate as to be classified as a house, and the modern house, because of its owner’s wish for simple living, can sometimes be mistaken for a cabin, the overlap has fostered, if anything, the basic architectural idea.

The influence of the pioneer’s cabin is still very evident. We have retained much of the picturesque quality of the early cabins and some of their structural principles. Here the similarity seems to end.”

-Calvin Rutstrum, “The Wilderness Cabin” (1961)

Calvin Rutstrum was born on October 26, 1895 in Hobart, Indiana. He came to Minnesota with his parents, settling in St. Paul, in 1898. In his early days he worked as a cowboy in Montana, a medical corpsman in the Marine Corps, sold real estate and automobiles in Minneapolis during the 1920s.

Later, he worked as a detective to investigate bank robberies for the American Banking Association from the mid-1920s to 1940. After World War Two, he started writing articles for Twin Cities newspaper and at the same time was director of wilderness camping at Lake Hubert Camp.

His passion for the outdoors and writing started to intertwine in the 1940s when his first book was published in 1946 titled, “The Way of the Wilderness,” and is considered the bible of serious canoeists. Many of his fifteen published books were written at his cabin on Cloud Bay, Ontario, Canada. Here he made frequent journeys into the Canadian wilderness with visitors and friends alike.

Rutstrum was a writer but most of all a reader. In some late life advice printed in the Stillwater High School newspaper, the Pony Express, Rutstrum tells that to be a good writer you must write and read every day. “If you want to make it, you have to be so enthusiastic that they can’t hold you back,” he said. And when talking about world affairs, use your own feelings, “its your coloring that makes your writing you.”

As a freelance writer, Rutstrum would have articles published in magazines and newspapers. He had his own column in the Stillwater Messenger for a short time titled, “The Outpost,” and even had a lengthy article published in that paper about his new home community of Marine on St. Croix. He later had a column in the Osceola Sun from the late 1970s to 1981.

As a nationally recognized conservationist, he, along with Sigurd F. Olson, successfully campaigned to restrict airplane travel across the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota in the 1940s.

Other books in which he had published include “Back Country, “The Wilderness Route Finder,” “Paradise Below Zero,” “Challenge of the Wilderness,” “The Wilderness Cabin,” “Chips from a Wilderness Log,” “Hiking Back to Health,” “Once upon a Wilderness,” and his autobiography titled, “A Wilderness Life.”

On February 5, 1982 in Ladd Memorial Hospital at Osceola, Wisconsin, one of the nations leading conservationists died. Only two weeks earlier, Sigard Olson, his contemporary, also died, leaving a lasting legacy but also a huge hole in wilderness conservation.

It’s A Nice Day For A White House Wedding

While the United States doesn’t have a Royal Family, at times its First Family receives a similar degree of attention.

Alice Lee Roosevelt, daughter of popular President Theodore Roosevelt, was as common of a subject in fashion magzines as gossip columns. In an era where women were expected to be quietly passive – Ms. Roosevelt was anything but. She owned a pet snake, she smoked cigarettes in public and drove automobiles without a chaperone. In 1905, she even joined a delegation of American politicans on an Asian expedition that met with both the Chinese Empress and Japanese Emperor. On this good-will tour, she also became close to U.S. House Representative Nicholas Longworth III.

The White House hosted a President’s daughter’s wedding for the third time in its history on February 17th, 1906. Alice Lee Roosevelt and Nicholas Longworth’s ceremony was attended by the most elite of the elites and drew thousands of curious onlookers into the streets. This event has been called the most elaborate and spectacular of all of the wedding ceremonies ever held at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

And halfway across the continent, all the way in Stillwater, Minnesota- its newspaper dedicated two full pages to reporting the details. Below is an excerpt from these pages along with a few of the accompanying illustrations.

Marriage Words Are Spoken – Stillwater Messenger – February 24, 1906

It was one of the most auspicious moments in the history of the White House. The guests seemed scarcely to breath, so intent were they to catch every syllable of the beautiful service. In low, yet reasonable tones, Bishop Satterlee began. At the conclusion of the responses from the bride and groom the venerable bishop inquired in a tone that filled the great room:

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”

The president of the United States ascended the platform, and, taking his daughter’s right hand, placed it that of the bridegroom. Thus he gave the bride away to the ma of her choice, and by the ring, which an instant later the groom placed on the fourth finger of her left hand, she became Mrs. Nicholas Longworth…

Leave the White House

Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Longworth made their escape from the White House after the wedding late in the afternoon, and in a quick automobile dash gained the country home of John R. McLean, “Friendship”, five miles from the city, where they rested, guarded from the curious by a cordon of mounted police.

Off For Cuba

Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Longsworth started on their honeymoon from Alexandria, Va., at 11:18 a.m. Monday over the Southern railway. They will go to Tampa and from there take a boat for Havana, Cuba, which point they expect to reach Thursday morning. They will make the trip to Tampa in the private car Elysian, which was awaiting them in the yards of the Southern railway at Alexandria about a half a mile from the station. The bride and bridegroom made the trip from “Friendship”, John R. McLean’s country place, near Washington, to Alexandria in an open automobile, accompanied by Mrs. Longsworth’s maid and a chauffeur.

Culture Shock on the Frontier

by Brent Peterson, based on stories found in “Old Rail Fence Corners: Frontier Tales Told by Minnesota Pioneers”

Mrs. Elizabeth Clifford came to the area because of the health of her father in 1850. They had some land six miles north of Stillwater and their closest neighbor was two and a half miles away, that being Mr. Morgan.

Mrs. Clifford says that “one day as I glanced from the window, I saw a body of Indian warriors coming on the trail that led around the lake near us. As they came up, I saw they were in full war paint and feathers. The entered, examined everything, but took nothing. They asked for and ate bread and molasses, as they had seen the children doing when they came in. They all had guns and big bowie knives sticking in their belts. One particularly villainous looking one took out his knife and felt the edge, looking wickedly at us. One was exceptionally pleasant looking and I thought he would protect us if the rest got ugly. They finally went away. They were followed in the afternoon by a band of Chippewa braves who asked if the Sioux warriors had been that way that day. When told they had they rode hurriedly after them. They said the Sioux had taken some Chippewa scalps.”

Another account of an encounter of the Native Americans was that of Mrs. Mahlon Black. She said that “a large party of Sioux camped right by us. They were dressed for what they were going after, a war dance, and were all painted and feathered. They were looking in the windows always. It used to make me sick to see their tracks where they had gone round and round the house. My husband was on the survey most of the time so I was there alone with my baby a great deal. One Sunday I was all alone when a lot of bucks come in – I was so frightened I took my baby’s little cradle and set I on the table. She had surly hair and they would finger it and talk in their lingo. When they left I took the baby and hailed the first team going by and made them come and stay with me. It was the Cormacks from St. Anthony. I made my husband move back to Stillwater the next day.”

Mrs. Mary E. Dowling came to Marine as Mary Watson in 1855 to teach school. She noted that “A band of Indians was encamped at a lake near. One brave all dressed in his Sunday best used to come and sit in the kitchen day after day. He used to talk to the men but never said a word to us. He could speak good English. One day the chief came in and went for him. Said he had been away from his tepee for days and his squaws wanted him. Like lightning he crossed the room to where I was and said, ‘Me got Sioux squaw. Me got Winnebago squaw. Me want white squaw. You go?’ I was very earnest in declining.”

Chuckles Not Guaranteed

On the opposite page of these jokes and bits of wit, the editors of the Stillwater Messenger printed a lengthy article on the political relationship between France and Germany. Today, we know what that rivalry would produce only a few short years later – hundreds of miles of trenches and and millions of deaths.

109 years later these riddles might still produce a chuckle, but in 1906, they were a necessary bit of relief amongst building global tensions.

Who Can Tell? – Stillwater Messenger – January 27, 1906

When may an army be said to be totally destroyed?- Answer – When its soldiers are all in quarters.

Why are dudes no longer imported into this country from Europe? Answer – Because a Yankeedude’ll do (Yankee Doodle Do.)

What three great writers’ names might you think of if you were watching a house burn down? Answer – Dickens, Howett, Burns

Where was the first Adams Express Co. located? Answer – In the Garden of Eden, when Eve was created.

What word of only three syllables combine in it twenty-six letters? Answer – Alphabet

When will there be but 25 letters in the alphabet? Answer – When U and I are one.

Why is it almost certain Shakespeare was a broker? Answer – Because no other man furnished so many stock quotations.

What are the two largest ladies in the United States? Answer – Miss Ouri and Mrs. Sippi

Uniting the “Last Men”

An elderly man sits alone at the head of table at the Lowell Inn in 1930. Slowly he rises and raises a glass of wine. He makes a toast to his fallen comrades in front of 33 black draped chairs. Charles Lockwood, the last of the Last Man’s Club of Company B, First Minnesota of the Civil War is that last man, and the club ended its final meeting.

The following year, 1931, veterans of the First World War, the “War to End all Wars,” formed a new last man’s club with Lockwood as an honorary member. This club, named for a can of dried beef found on the battle fields of Europe would meet on Washington’s Birthday every year until the last man. Later, Lockwood would donate to the new club a bottle of wine to be opened by the last man – just as he had done a couple years earlier.

Over 280 veterans of the First World War signed up for that first meeting of the “Last Buddies Bully Beef Club” in 1932. Instead of draping chairs in black as the old Last Man’s Club did, candles would be lit for the members who had passed on the previous year. A candleholder was made with the veteran’s name on it for the lit candle to shine during the meeting.

On the 10th Anniversary of the club, 1941, the main speaker for the evening was Minnesota Governor Harold Stassen and guests of honor for that meeting included the commissioned officers of Company A and Company D. Milton H. Kuhlman was the sergeant major of the group and Chester Wilson, one of the clubs corporals, acted as toastmaster.

The ritual of lighting a candle was begun at this meeting, and color movies were taken of the meeting, with the film being shot by Edward Drews and Harry Swanson under the direction of Judge Edward Thelen.

The movies, shot at the Lowell Inn, show a brief portion of the first candle ceremony and then close up shots of each person who attended the meeting that night. There is no sound, and the members are not identified, but the movies certainly capture a moment in the history of this club and the military history of Washington County.

By the 50th reunion of the Last Buddies Bully Beef Club, only 46 members attended. In 1986, only 9 members of the over 280 original members were able to attend the meeting. Five years later, only three of the six living members attended the meeting on Washington’s Birthday. It was the final meeting of the bully beefers. The clubs records, rusted can of bully beef, and bottle of wine was turned over to the Washington County Historical Society to forever keep the deeds of those veterans alive in history.

On January 13, 1998, Moritz Lott – then living in California – died, which made Frank Manning, a former typesetter at the Stillwater Gazette and living in Sarasota, Florida – the last man. The bottle was never opened, and remains in the collection of the Washington County Historical Society.

Manning has since passed away, leaving no World War One veteran left from the original members of the club. The promise that they gave to one another never faded, and was kept until the last man:

“With faith in the ideals of justice, freedom, and equal opportunity for all men, we pledge ourselves to maintain, protect and perpetuate the way of life that is America. And for that we will serve and sacrifice – to the last man.”

Privy Profits

Whew. Thanks for sticking with me so far. I’ll be the first to admit that today’s e-newsletter has been pretty heavy.

Quick! We need something to lighten the mood! How about we see how much money Stillwater was making off people’s…erhm..bodily functions…back in 1911? Perfect!

Rest Room Prospering – Stillwater Messenger – January 13, 1912

People of Stillwater will be glad to know that the rest room in this city is nearly self-supporting. A detailed statement of the treasurer discloses the fact that the receipts for the past year, including donations, amounted to $3,009.02*, while the disbursements were $2,929.60, leaving a balance in the treasury of $79.42. The rest room is an institution that does credit to this city to maintain, and a great convenience to farms’ wives and children as well as residents of this city. It will require a helping hand yet a while, but may soon be able to stand alone and be entirely self-supporting.

*$3,000 in 1911 is about $75,000 in today’s dollars.

A Most Revered Resource?

by Don Empson

When doing any kind of historical research in Washington County, one of the first sources usually consulted is the History of Washington County and the St. Croix Valley, published in 1881. This is the earliest of the Washington County histories, and generally revered as an unquestioned source of historical fact.

But think again. Let’s look a little closer at this “history.” Usually the author is cited as the Reverend Edward D. Neill, a Protestant clergyman, the founder of Macalester College, and an eminent historian in early Minnesota. However, a close look at the title page reveals that this volume includes a work by Neill entitled Explorers and Pioneers of Minnesota, but Neill had nothing to do with writing the history of Washington County. In fact, the proper author citation would be North Star Publishing Company, Minneapolis. Using Neill’s name was an intentional effort by the publisher to both expand and legitimize the book. The fact that most readers believe that Neill is the author of this book also confirms the publishers successfully mislead many readers.

The North Star Publishing Company, or as it was sometimes referred to, Warner & Foote, was a business venture of Charles M. Foote (1849-1899) and George E. Warner (1826-1917). The impetus for their business was undoubtedly the success of the Andreas Atlas of Minnesota, which had been sold by subscription widely throughout Minnesota in 1874. This Atlas, with some history included, was the first general history of the state that was published as a commercial venture. It was sold by book agents traveling around the state soliciting orders in advance. For an extra payment, the subscriber could have a picture of his house or business included along with a caption. Typical of the subscription business with its practice of obtaining orders in advance, the agent probably had a very attractive mock-up of the book prepared to show prospective buyers and persuade them to order a copy. Having an beautiful sample may also have unrealistically raised the customers’ expectations of a attractive cover.

Having witnessed the success of the Andreas Atlas, Warner and Foote took their business to a more local level, and published a series of county maps in the late 1870’s, including, among others, the Map of Freeborn County, 1878; Map of Fillmore County, 1878; Map of Blue Earth County, 1879; and Map of Carver County in 1880.

They expanded their catalog to books, and in 1881, they published, using the pre-sale method, A History of Hennepin County, A History of Ramsey County, A History of Dakota County, and our History of Washington County. Today there is a tendency to consider these books as factural, and they hold a revered status as reliable reference sources. However, the local Stillwater subscribers were not pleased when they received their $10 (3 days wages) copy of A History of Washington County.

The first howls of discontent were recorded in the Stillwater Messenger of August 27, 1881:

“There are several hundred persons (and more to hear from) in our city and county who have within the past two weeks made a new and unusually solemn vow never to buy a book or anything else of a canvassing agent. Some six or eight months ago a squad of well-dressed smooth-talking fellows visited every nook and corner of our county as well as the St. Croix valley, soliciting subscriptions for a history of Washington county. Twelve or fifteen hundred persons were thus induced to place their autographs upon the pages of a book, agreeing to pay $10 on receipt of the contemplated volume. Two weeks ago the work of delivery commenced, and simultaneously a tremendous howl arose from the throats of persons who had subscribed for the work. The book is probably all that was promised, but subscribers do not find it all their fancy painted it. Quite a number refuse to take it, while others have paid the requisite X and have charged it up to experience account.”

A couple of weeks later the Mayor went into action as described in the Stillwater Messenger of September 10th,1881:

“Get Even With A Book Agent

A few weeks ago an alleged history of Washington county was handed to his excellency mayor Matthews (which his front name is Sam). Sam didn’t know what he had done to merit such an infliction, and declined to accept the book until he was shown a certain other less pretentious but more “binding” volume in which his autograph appeared, though he had no recollection of ever placing it there. He surrendered unconditionally and also surrendered a ten dollar note. Now if there is anything which harrows up Sam’s very bottom soul it is the thought that he has been taken in some business transaction. For ten days or more he busied his brain in an endeavor to devise some scheme whereby he could get even with that book agent. At length a “happy thought” occurred to him and he proceeded to “book it.” Inquiry of the city clerk elicited the fact that the deliverer of books in question had never obtained a license for such business, and an examination of the ordinances revealed the further fact that the fee for such licenses may not exceed $200. Mr. book agent was speedily notified that he was liable to arrest if he delivered any more books without procuring a license. On receiving this notification the b.a. made application for a license, but on learning that the price was $200 he was in a quandary. He had 100 books yet to deliver to Stillwater subscribers, but in the absence of instructions he did not feel authorized to invest $200 in license. He is still in a quandary, and one hundred deluded citizens of Stillwater hope the concern will fail before the $200 is paid. Other victims wish the license had been $2000 and Sam had thought about the matter before they paid for the evidence of their folly.”

Other communities were no more enthusiastic.

The Hudson True Republican wrote:

“It is distressing to hear the groans of our people, as they hand over ten dollars for what purports to be a history of this vicinity, which they were deluded into subscribing for last summer. They felt as though bathing in salt water would be as beneficial.”

The Stillwater Messenger editorialized on September 17th:

” There is a general desire that the license for foreign book agents be placed uniformly at $200, and that any agent who attempts to canvass for or deliver any book without a license be fined $200 for every offense. There are parties living in this city, honest and deserving, who can supply our citizens with all the books they are hungering to subscribe for, and even they are not getting rich so fast as to be proud.”

The following week, the Messenger quoted the Hudson newspaper again:

“It is pretty near time that another history of the St. Croix county was canvassed for. It will require a young man whose brass extends below his face, and renders him shot and leather proof, if he interviews any victim of the Minneapolis fraud.”

Meanwhile in Stillwater:

“Some fifteen or twenty of the subscribers for the snide history of Washington county have combined to resist payment. They propose to stand by each other and will spend several times the cost of the book before they will pay for what they consider an unmitigated fraud.”

After trying to arrest the book agent and having him escape to Hudson, court action was taken in Stillwater:

“The case of the city against J. H. Chandler, charged with the crime of attempting to deliver a so-called history of Washington county to a deluded subscriber without a license was on Wednesday again postponed one week.”

But to no avail:

“The case of the city v. J. H. Chandler, charged with delivering or attempting to deliver a snide history of Washington county without a license, was on Wednesday dismissed in the mucilage on the ground that the ordinance requiring such license was in conflict with the constitution or something of the kind.”

The book company retaliated: The Daily Sun of December 20, 1881, lists a suit in municipal court:

“North Star Publishing Co. vs. Abram T. Gillispie. This is an action brought to recover for a book, the “History of Washington County” which defendant claims was not what it was represented to be.”

Unfortunately, we cannot discern the specific complaints about the book because the municipal court archives no longer exist; some irony for current historians who rely on documentation. But the book itself provides some evidence for the extreme controversy that raged when it was published. It’s likely that the physical appearance of the completed volume did not fulfill the promise of those who solicited its purchase. The sample version promoted to potential subscribers may not have matched the final product. Reality and expectations collided in an uproar.

A close reading of the contents reveals minimal original factual research, specifically about Washington County. Approximately one-third of the book is “filler:” Neill’s Explorers and Pioneers of Minnesota and Williams’ Outlines of the History of Minnesota are long sections with emphasis on state-wide information; both were published many years previously. These two works were also used in the other county histories published by Warner and Foote.

There is also a question about the accuracy and objectivity of the personal profiles in the book. Those subscribers wishing their biographies in the county book paid an extra fee — and they submitted the information they wished published. Those who could not afford the fee, or who did not care about their image for posterity, were not included. Arguably, this could be considered a limitation of many subsequent history texts.

Most of the “historical” information, specifically about Washington County, was probably written by a local journalist/writer/person hired to compose this county history. The text is flowery/romantic description, rather than hard facts that current researchers could rely on for accuracy. In the book’s favor, there are sections that appear to be based on interviews with some of the residents of the time — some of whom also bought a place in the subscriber biographical section. However, many of the local facts in this book were taken directly from the earlier newspapers to the extent this history could be used as an index to the area newspapers.

Is this a good history? The subscribers at the time certainly did not think so. Does this book hold up as a reliable source for contemporary historians? What do you think? And would you be willing to pay $300 or so for the book — today’s equivalent of the original $10 price?