Ahnapee - or Ahnepee before the respelling in 1873 - was the
home of blacksmiths such as John Roberts, Boeder Mikkleson, Charles Bastar,
Thain and Elliot which became Thain and Currie, John Johnson, Storm and Bros., Michael
Welniak, and Perlewitz Bros. at a time when Kewaunee County was filled with such men who built wagons, sleighs, hand sleighs and cutters. There were others such
as the Haney Bros. who sold cutters though did not build them. By 1916, C.J.
Prokash invented a cycle sleigh and was planning to apply for a patent. The paper
thought he was a man of the future.
Hamlets “arrived” when a blacksmith appeared. Such men went
on to be romanticized in movies and poems. Popular Christmas songs are full of sleighs and their
bells, although in reality sleighs and bells were not quite so romantic as the songs
would seem to suggest over 100 years later. Lines from the songs tell the stories that
really happened.
Merrily clip-clopping often meant runaways, tipping sleighs,
toes kept warm with bricks heated in the stove, and a good ear that told folks a
sleigh was approaching before a lantern could be seen.
As the song asks, “Sleigh bells ring, are you listenin’?” Merchant F.G. Jirtle was selling bells which were required by law. Jirtle was on the
south side of what became the 300 block of Steele St.
Wikipedia says sleighbells of the 1800s had diverse sounds
due to variations in manufacturing. Varied metals and alloys such as brass or
bronze and the size and thickness of the bells made a difference. Slits in
bells created louder or softer tones. Distinct sounds enabled others to know
who was coming in addition to providing safety.
As the Record told readership in Spring 1908, Section
88 of the Laws of Algoma stipulated that “No person shall drive any sleigh,
cutter or similar vehicle in the streets, alleys, or public thoroughfares of
this city without having proper and sufficient bells attached to either horse
or vehicle.”
When a new “wide sleigh” law
was enacted by the 1917 Wisconsin legislature, the law was similar to one
passed in 1913 although repealed in 1916 due to farmers’ reactions. The new law
made it illegal to sell a sleigh unless runners measured 4’ 6” from center to
center. Use of sleighs with less distance was prohibited after January 1, 1919,
thus giving manufacturers ample time to conform to the law. Farmers also had
time to have their sleighs rebuilt.
Before that, sleighbells often made the news. They had their
own sounds and one who was “listenin’” knew who was out and about before they
could be seen. That included courting couples.
The Record’s Lincoln correspondent was listening to Jingle
Bells in November 1889 while writing, “A light snow fell last night through
this part of the country, enough to cause the sleigh bells to jingle and remind
us of St. Nicholas.” A few weeks later, the same corrospondent wrote, “The merry tinkling of sleigh bells is now to be
heard in this section of the country.” A year later, Record editor DeWayne
Stebbins opined that, “The first sleigh bells of the season sounded on
our streets yesterday, a warning that winter has come, probably to stay.” In
April 1894, Ahnapee was expecting an early spring but, as Editor Stebbins
pointed out, “the merry jingle of sleigh bells on April 10 said winter was
still there.” He was right: seven or 8 inches fell.
F.G. Jirtle's business not only sold sleigh bells. He sold sleigh robes
with his other line of traveling merchandise. Everybody knew snow and cold “stings
the toes and bites the nose as over the ground we go.”
In 1893, several of Ahnapee’s young people drove to Otto
Schloessel’s place in Ahnapee town where they spent an enjoyable post-Christmas
party. The fun of a sleighride ended when the sleigh tipped and the entire
party was dumped out into the snow. Spirits were not dampened, perhaps because
Jirtle’s robes kept the sleighers warm.
About 30 Algoma young people found “What fun it is to
laugh and sing a sleighing song tonight” when they enjoyed a January 1901
sleighing party to the home of Clara Bottkol in Euren. Two sleighs – one with a
few seats and the other little more than a box -were hired to convey the
party-goers. An elegant supper was served and games were played until a couple
of hours before midnight when the guests departed. Sleighing was poor thus
prompting the driver to follow the ditches most of the way to Algoma. As the
sleigh often threatened to tip, the shrieks and laughter could be heard for
some distance. They got home – before morning.
“A day or two ago, I thought I’d take a ride..…Misfortune
seemed our lot, We got into a drifted bank and then we got upset.” That happened in 1902 when two dozen Algoma young people took a sleigh ride to the home of Joseph Machia at Forestville. After a most enjoyable, hospitable evening, the group started for home when the smaller of the two sleighs had an unavoidable accident that, thankfully, was not serious, The occupants of the other sleigh thought ithe "misfortune" was hularious.
A few days before Christmas 1893, a party in two sleighs
traveled from Sturgeon Bay to enjoy the day in Ahnapee. On the return trip, one
of the cutters was upset after hitting a snowdrift and misfortune was the
name of the game again. The horse ran off, forcing the travelers to forge through the
snow. When the horse arrived home in Sturgeon Bay alone, the frightened father of the
driver hired a livery man to help him search for the missing. As it happened,
the parties did not meet as the young people trudged home via another route.
When the rescuers reached the place where the cutter had upset, it happened
again, and the livery horse ran off to its stable thus forcing the driver and
the father to either walk or hire another team. Although it was a night filled
with fright, the story had a positive ending.
John Birdsall was forced to take his cutter
into Babler’s for repairs in January 1915 after Birdsall had loaned the cutter
to a man who wanted to drive to Sturgeon Bay. On the trip, the cutter collided
with a hayrack. The man whose team was attached to the rack was walking behind
his sleigh and before he could reach the lines, the team had topeled the cutter
over, throwing the man, his wife and baby in addition to the single horse
harnessed to the “one-horse open sleigh.”
Traveling meant going “Over the river and through the
wood…” which is where Peter Entringer and Henry Holdorf were hauling wood
in 1892. They had hitched up their horses along with the others’ horses, rigs
and sleighs for work. Things worked out that day.
A year later, a team belonging to William Bastar of
Ahnapee’s Bastar House got away from him about a mile out of town and
“promenaded” into town to the music of its sleighbells. The team stopped when it
got home with no damage to speak of, but who knows what happened to Mr. Bastar?
Casco’s Dave Burke lost his team in 1901 while hauling ice
from a small lake near Alaska Lake. The lines were tied to the stakes on the
sleigh while the team was standing next to the hole where the ice was being taken.
As the horses started to back up and the sleigh began cramping, the lines
pulled back, and the whole outfit went into the water. Before the horses could
be rescued, they drowned. Valued at $300, the team was a heavy loss for Mr.
Burke.
Henry Jennerhohn was driving home to Forestville in February
1893 when, as he reached Ed Pappe’s home, the horse went into the river with
Jennerjohn still in the sleigh. Mr. Paape saw the accident from his home and
was able to rescue Jennerjohn and save the horses.
"Oh, how they pound, raising the sound, O're hill and dale, Telling their tale......" is something Matt Junk and George Detemple knew. They certainly had a tale to tell in January 1905 when they stopped at Gaulke's saloon in Rio Creek as they were returning from Alaska. The men were inside the saloon - raising more than sound - when their team ran away. The horses didn;t stop until they got to Bottkol's in Euren, Surprisingly, there was no serious damage to the horses or sleigh. Who found the team and sleigh or how the men got from Rio Creek to Euren escaped the Record's story.
Joseph Novak was another with a tale. Two miles from Algoma,
the Ahnapee and Western train struck the sleigh and team owned by Novak, a
Brussels’ farmer. The train struck behind the team but in front of the sleigh,
leaving the horses on one side of the track and Novak and the sleigh thrown
about 30’ away from the track on the other side. One horse was instantly killed
while the other seemed to be well until a broken leg was discovered the next
day. That horse had to be shot.
Novak was picked up from
beneath the sleigh, unconscious and severely bruised. The train returned him to
Algoma depot where Drs. Morris and Gaunt treated him, finding a 6” gash in his
scalp and his right arm broken in 3 places. Novak was taken to a room at
Slaby’s (now the Stebbins) hotel where he was kept and attended by the doctors.
Believe it or not, the paper conratulated Novak on his narrow escape from death.
He’d have been far luckier if he had not been hit by the train.
As it turned out, the day of
the March 1901 accident was to be Novak’s last day hauling wood into Algoma. He
had checked the horses, however the lines slipped as the horses got on the
track. It was said the train was moving at an unusually fast speed. Whatever
the case, Novak packed it in.
William Krueger sold heavy buffalo robes, blankets and
harnesses at his blacksmith shop. He also sold coffins, but not as part of the
sleigh inventory. However, it is possible one of Krueger’s coffins was used for
Charles Zastrow. The young, industrious Zastrow was loading logs near the
Zastrow & Sanderman’ shingle mill when a log at the top of the sleigh rolled
over him, breaking his leg and bruising him severely when his handspike was
caught by the log and thrown against his head. Dr. Taylor was called to tend to
his wounds but found that the young man could not recover from the head injury,
which was fatal.
"Our cheeks are nnice and rosy and comfy, cosy are we (ring-a-ling); We're snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be...." Sleighing was good for courting when a couple of sleigh loads of people from Ahnapee drive out to Euren to attend a masquerade at Bottkol's hall. Poor roads made for small attendance which prompted adjourning the February 1898 dance. Cold as it was, the riders were definitely snuggled up but not cosy. Frigid temperatures encouraged snuggling and cuddling.
"Dashing Through the Snow.....Just get a bob-tailed bay; Two-forty as his speed; Hitch him to an open sleigh; And crack, you'll take the lead."
Those lyrics could have been written by Carl Trost, hostler
at Algoma’s Wisconsin House. When Trost was driving east on Ellis Street in
Kewaunee a few days before Christmas 1902, his horses were frightened, running
down the hill at break-neck speed straight toward the Erichsen House crashing into it, while throwing Miss Mary Brandt into the hotel
platform as she was going to work. Thrown against the wall of the building, Mary
struck her head while Trost was knocked senseless and thought to be dead. A
doctor worked over him for an hour before he finally gained consciousness. Miss
Brandt was severely bruised and shaken, but she could walk.
After the horses hit the wall, they somehow freed themselves
from the sleigh and plunged into a deep stone cellarway that was said to be
only large enough for a man. They were still hitched together as they burst
through the locked door at the bottom of the steps. Erichsen kept his liquors
in the locked cellar, and when the horses were discovered, they were taking
inventory!
After being unhitched, the horses walked up the steps
without a care in the world. Surprisingly, neither was injured but possibly it
was the effects of the liquor samples. While the injured Trost was receiving
care, and Miss Brandt was taken to her uncle’s home in Pierce, the horses were
put into the safety of a stable. Perhaps they slept “it” off.
Lincon’s Desire Englebert was on Third Street in Ahnapee
when his spirited team was frightened, running away as folks tried to get their
teams out of the way fast enough. Luckily, the only damage was breakage to the
sleigh and the harness. On the same 1894 day, a dray team ran up Steele and
down 4th. Once again, many teams and people were on the street, and,
again, no one was hurt. The rig, however, was damaged while the horses escaped
with a few light injuries.
Just before Christmas 1889, Andrew Sloan of Forestville was
driving his sleigh with a very spirited team. Sloan was on Fremont nearing the
foundry at the northeast corner of Sixth and Fremont when the horses became
unmanageable and started to run. Sloan maintained partial control until they
reached Third St. when a runner broke and Sloan was jerked from the sleigh.
Holding on to the lines, he was dragged across the street where the team ran
into a barn and came to an abrupt stop. At least nobody was hurt.
Henry Westfahl’s horse caused some excitement in 1901 as it
dashed down Steele St., hitched to the wagon delivering Oldenburg and Westfahl’s
meat. After the horse ran with a tipped sleigh, the sleigh tipped over
completely. (Oldenburg and Westfahl was at the southeast corner of Fourth and
Clark. The building remains.)
Little St. Nick by the Beach Boys tells about "haulin' through the snow at a frightening speed....." The
Beach Boys came long after Herman Detjen who would never have been singing Little St. Nick while he and his
wife were riding from Rio Creek to Ahnapee. Something spooked the horse, which started
running away. As Detjen tried reining in, both he and his wife were thrown from
the sleigh. Mrs. Detjen’s arm was broken, however Herman was able to get up and
calm the horse for an immediate trip to Dr. B.P. Churchill’s office where
x-rays located the facture. Bone x-rays were new in Algoma. It was on November
29, 1901, that the paper announced that Doc had been busy arranging his office on
the second floor of the Melchior building, (today’s Steele Street Florist)
readying it for his “electric batteries static” and Xray machine.
Whoever heard of horses breaking into a saloon? It happened
in Forestville in 1901. When Germania House proprietor Bernard Awe heard the
racket, he was thinking Carrie Nation - the well- known leader of the Women’s
Christian Temperance Union who was known to enter saloons and smash bottles -
was at his door. Instead of Mrs. Nation, it was Michael Krueger’s team. The
team was frightened near the creamery and started “haulin’” down the road at
lightening speed. Turning the corner at the Germania House, the team ran into
the saloon door, breaking it open while also breaking a couple of windows. The
horses got away from the sleigh but were stopped when they got tangled in the
harness. Although the horses weren’t injured, the sleigh and milk cans were
completely demolished.
Then there was Kewaunee pop shop man, Anton Moudry, who lost control of his team in front of Herbert Sibilsky's Mill Street establishment. From there, the teamtore across the swamp (now Perry Field) and east on Steele to be stopped in front of the post office. The pop bottles scattered along the route would not have bothered Carrie nation in the least.
Rankin's Henry Eggert's team ran away early on 1898 morning when he was unloading his grain from the sleigh at Seyk's warehouse (at the bottom of Steele), when he'd forgotten to hitch the team. Some unknown cause started the horses running down the steep incline toward the depot where they turned around and ran up town, finally getting hooked on a post in front of William Krueger's harness shop. The tongue of the sleigh was broken and the harness was nearly destroyed. Hopefully, Krueger got the repair job.
George Frenzel, who lived about a mile and a half south of
the village, was in town taking a load of hay to the elevator in March 19. He
was crossing the railroad tracks as his team stopped leaving the sleigh on the
tracks just as the southbound passenger train came along. The train lifted the
horses while knocking the sleigh clear of the tracks. Such force sent the
sleigh and horses down the steep embankment at the foot of Steele. The accident
could have meant a coffin from Krueger, however while Frenzel was scared, he
was unharmed. As the paper warned, people can’t be too careful crossing the
tracks.
In January 1883, an east-bound train on the Kewaunee Green
Bay & Western railroad killed a horse and demolished a sleigh carrying a load
of window glass and doors at a crossing near New Franken. Sleigh driver
Nicholas Wahl was thrown from the sleigh though, fortunately, not injured.
Young people thought it was fun "to take the road before us and sing a chorus or two...." and just after New Year's 1901, the Epworth League was thinking of fun, The league sponsored a sleighride party to the home of Mr. and Mrs. James Hilton who made their guests feel welcome. Games were played and refreshments were served before the guests bundled back onto the sleigh, snuggling up together to have a good time as they took the road before them home.
“All what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh”
– Ott, Marcel, Mercedes, Elaine didn;t think so. Living on adjacent farms separated
by the Ahnapee River, the four young people were going to a basketball game at
Maplewood high school where Marcel was a hotshot on the team. Oh, yes.
Maplewood, just north of Algoma, had a two-year high school as recently as the
1930s. Ott drove the family horse and cutter that cold, snowy evening. In the
early ‘30s, it was the only way to get to the game, and besides, the river was
a good road.
The horse had other ideas about being out in the cold, but
maybe he was having his own fun. When Ott got the sleigh onto the river, the
horse plunked down. No amount of prodding got that horse to stand. He just sat.
Finally, with Ott holding the reins, Marcel and the two girls tried pulling the
horse. When that didn’t work, they tried lifting the horse by his back quarters! What
else would four teenagers do? There is more to the story which proved that it
was not always fun to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.
“The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh,” - but not all the time.
When a team belonging to Hagermeister Breweing Co. ran away
in 1902, one of the horses was killed.
Agent William Neseman was in the company warehouse near the
railroad track at the foot of 4th Street when something frightened
the team. It ran south through the alley west of 4th and as it came
out of the alley and onto Steele, it ran into a guy cable running from the
telephone pole to the ground. Going at a terrific speed, the horses struck the cable, breaking off the telephone pole as both horses went down with a terrific
force.
It took some time to untangle the horses since one horse landed
on the other as the harness was broken. The horse underneath was injured
the worst with a deep cut in its hind haunch where the sleigh struck him. He
was also internally injured from being thrown with such intensity as the other
horse fell on him. Being able to move, the horse was gotten on a sleigh and
taken to Sam Newman’s barn while a Sturgeon Bay veterinarian Surgeon Jones was
summoned. Nothing could be done to save the suffering horse which died quite
soon. It was said the horse was valued at $125.
Mr. and Mrs. Hilmer Sibilsky of Bruemmerville knew, “Bells
on bob-tail ring, Making spirits bright…” and used a
sleighride party to raise money for the American Relief Fund. Though World War l was over, social needs remained great.
The event that 1920 Friday offered card playing all afternoon and evening. Mrs.
Sibilsky served an elaborate supper at six and charged 25 cents per plate.
Though World War l was over, the guests enjoyed themselves immensely while
helping others and, hopefully, raising their spirits.
Going riding “in a one-horse open sleigh” often
brought terror.
River and bay ice provided a highway for sleighs that had
accidents in the middle of nowhere. One such bay accident occurred 8 miles from
Menominee in 1885 when the sleigh riders stood in the bitter wind watching the
sleigh be blown away.
As it was, the rig was blown 2 miles, beyond where it
started, out onto the bay, after hitting a heavy drift that instantly stopped
the sleigh as it knocked the horses down. Passengers tried assisting the
severely injured horses to their feet. Then riders tried to get to the sleigh
as there was a stove inside.
Fearing the moving the sleigh could easily be blown away
again, the men chopped a hole in the ice where they inserted a plank and securely
tied the tongue of the sleigh to the plank. Then they crawled inside and tried
to be comfortable until the wind died down.
About three hours later, their coal was nearly exhausted
when a fisherman saw the rig and felt something was wrong. He skated out to
investigate and with his help, the sleigh was able to resume the journey with
the fisherman hanging on behind the rig. His skates held the ice so that he
could keep the sleigh from blowing off the route.
The sleigh was headed for Rosiere carrying William Watson of
Tornado, Al Goldman of Ahnapee and driver James Brooks. The article failed to
mention the heroic fisherman who saved the day and, possibly, three lives.
In January 1893, there was another such news article.
Passengers on the “stage” sleigh were coming across the bay on smooth ice.
There was no snow although a gale wind from the northwest prevented the sleigh
from being kept straight while blowing it around. The sleigh runners hit lumps
of snow several times until the rig was overthrown. People werecut and brusied as they were thrown out. It wasn’t the only time on that trip. Worse was the time
passengers crawled out after a wind picked up the sleigh and slid it across the
ice pulling the horses while passengers and the driver were standing on the ice
6-8 miles from Menominee.
“A day or two ago, I thought I’d take a ride…Misfortune
seemed our lot, We got into a drifted bank and then we got upset.” It happened when a sleigh load of young
people went to Forestville just for the pleasure of sleigh riding.
“O what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.” Remember
when cup holders were the last thing in vehicle comfort? A few years later,
there was hands’-free cellphone service. Bill Cooper was over 100 years ahead
of such technology when he introduced his covered mail sleigh in January 1877.
Cooper was on the Sturgeon Bay route and planned to add such creature comforts
as a stove, deck of cards and a “bottle of so and so.”
Jirtle even had an after-Christmas sale in 1920. Automobiles
had caught on. There were trucks. But it was the horse and sleigh that was most
important on rural winter roads.
“Dashing through the snow – over the fields we go” was
something the Sloans never forgot.
Luckily, Andrew Sloan and his family were not injured on Christmas
morning when his team threw the family out as it ran away near the Catholic
Church. Luckily too was that the family was tossed from the sleigh. It was
smashed to smithereens.
Christmas that year was warm and pleasant with just enough
snow on the ground to provide “splendid” sleighing for every horse and cutter
in the area. Streets were crowded from morning to night with people coming and
going. Ahnapee was accident free.
Winter transportation has changed. Kids no longer try
lifting up the rear-end of a horse to make it move. In the 1950s, Algoma high
school kids got out of the school bus to lift it to get it off the shoulder and
back on the road. Commercial services are there for drivers whose cars skid
into the ditch while the drivers are dashing through the snow and for
those who want to experience a one-horse open sleigh, larger cities
often have vendors who provide such rides for a small charge.
Sources: Ahnapee Record; Algoma Record Herald
