Kewaunee County Ice: It Wasn't Just for Winter

 

“Be careful. It’s icy out there.” “I’m sick of being inside. When’s the bay ice gonna be thick enough for fishing?” That’s January 2023, though nobody will think of January ice as they get the ice cubes for lemonade, iced tea, or to surround a bowl of potato salad at a picnic in July. Things were far different in 1923 when ice was harvested and important in food preservation. In the 1850s, it was mostly Kewaunee County breweries and saloons that called for ice.

Kewaunee Enterprize* was in its infancy on December 14, 1859, when it told readers to get their icehouse ready. Just as a summer job was getting the woodpile ready to provide winter warmth, within a few years, winter’s job was cutting ice to be stored for summer food preservation.

Summer ice was not a luxury. It was a necessity, and the Enterprize made sure readership knew how to build and properly care for an icehouse by reprinting an article from Wisconsin Journal. In constructing such a house, the Enterprize said, was to keep the ice surrounded by some non- heat conducting substance. Ventilation was important, as was draining for melting water. As long as those things were kept in mind, there were many styles that would work.

The Enterprize told readers that a cheap icehouse for home use would take thick planks to construct a base of about 8 feet square and 8 or 10 feet high. The structure needed to be built in well drained place that was protected from sun. Blocks and sawdust were required to cover the ground to a depth of 1 foot and a plank floor was necessary on top. Readers were told to pack the ice in the middle, leaving a space of about a foot all around, and then to fill that space with saw dust. Next, the ice had to be covered with sawdust and followed by a roof high enough for a window on each side to provide ventilation. When there was an access to the ice, the work was done. If sawdust was not available, plenty of straw worked.

Readership was advised to cut the ice as square as possible using a cross-cut saw. Fine pieces of ice were to be packed between the blocks. Waste not, want not. Anybody planning to do all that work needed to remember that early ice was the best. It was cleaner and clearer.

Wikipedia says ice harvesting got tis start in New England in the early 1800s and by the late 1880s, ice was the 2nd largest U.S. export. Cotton was Number 1. By the 1860s, New England ice was shipped around the country and around the world. Ice transformed the U.S. meat and produce industries.

Ice harvesting in Kewaunee County appears to have started with breweries and saloons which had their own icehouses. Bay or pond ice was hauled by sled to the saloon sheds which were essentially boards fitted between poles and easily removed as the ice was used. Telesphore Marchant was operating his brewery by 1858 and one of the first to harvest ice on Wisconsin's peninsula. Patrons wanted ice to cool their beer and, for Charles, it was no problem as he could get ice easily from the bay. The Ahnapee Brewery stood on the riverbank making its harvest easy for all the years of its life.

Icehouse, upper left, Sanborne Fire Map,
1909

January 1899 was lively on the Ahnapee River. Frank Graessel, the Algoma Vandyke Brewing Co. agent, joined the saloon keepers and butchers when his crew of men and teams put up Vandyke’s ice. In such a banner ice harvesting year, in addition to the Vandyke work, Graessel also had contracts for filling small ice-houses throughout the city with the crystal-clear, 18” thick ice.  

Sturgeon Bay lacks for neither water nor ice, so it was surprising when Sturgeon Bay Brewery Co. harvested ice on the Ahnapee River in 1899, a time when the company sent men and teams to put up 150 cords in the vicinity of Hagemeister’s beer station. They stored another 500 cords at the brewery on the bay. Alaska Lake was another busy place, and that’s where F. Toebe harvested his ice though had to haul it 6 miles to Rio Creek.

Breweries and saloons continued to harvest ice for well into the 1900s. Joseph Cayemburg built a new icehouse for the genial Charles Ruebens at his popular Rosiere saloon in April 1908. In early 1914, saloon keepers in the Champion area were hard at work, but the following year, harvesting was big on the Poh pond in Forestville. Louis Jarchow was harvesting, but for his cheese factories, not beer.

Not all the ice was used for saloons and breweries.

Ahnapee's Boalt and  Stebbins and John McDonald were still harvesting ice during the first week of February 1880. The old hay press building was filled before the Judge and Big Steb turned to the west side of C.H. Sabin’s warehouse. E. Decker & Co.  put up an immense quantity of ice, expecting to cut and pack about 3,000 cords, some of which was piled up on the side of Sabin’s warehouse. Ahnapee Brewery Co. stored ice near the brewery after their ice house was filled. Brummer’s mill pond was skimmed before the companies worked on Hall’s pond. Ice business was booming. The February 6, 1885, Ahnapee Record reported jobber John McDonald’s large crew was going “full blast” filling all the ice houses in the city with superior quality ice nearly 28” thick.

It seemed as if most years both Ahnapee/Algoma and Kewaunee had good ice harvests. The papers mentioned the good quality, blue ice, 18-24” thick, which was often easier to harvest because of the lack of deep snow, and in early 1880, the Enterprise said “hardly ever” was there such an abundance of such fine quality ice. But there were exceptions. In late February 1890, the fears of ice scarcity in Chicago and other large cities were abating. Going from shortages to so much ice reversed supply, leading to an overstock. Northern Wisconsin was sending 400 ton into Chicago daily. More ice came from Iowa prompting one Ahnapee jobber to say delivered ice was going for $1.25 a ton, which was the best price he could get in a non-profitable year.

Northeast Wisconsin had a variety of places to secure good ice, including the bay of Green Bay. Hall’s mill pond in Ahnapee offered excellent quality ice when Henry Schmiling had his crew of thirteen men and five teams working in January 1887. Early in January that year,  the Record reminded harvesters about safety and the law regarding ice: “Any person who shall remove ice, or cause its removal from any stream, pond or lake, sand shall neglect to place around the margin of the opening made by such removal, such guard, or fence as will be a sufficient caution, warning or protection to all persons coming near the same, shall be punished by imprisonment in the county jail not more than six months, or by fine not exceeding one hundred dollars.” As it was, in 1899 Hugo Perlewitz was playing on the ice and nearly drowned. Parents advised to caution kids from going to the river. The river was  often too dangerous with insecure ice and Hugo was not the only near miss.

The ice business continued up and down the Ahnapee River. January 1900 saw Forestville’s ice harvest going strong with both Stoneman & Sloan and the Creamery ice houses filled. Martin Schmitz' icehouse was nearly filled when Bernard Awe’s crew and teams were ready to start work. Louis Trottman was the big iceman in Kewaunee where he put up 500 cords or more in a given year. Trottman delivered ice. Henry Schmiling took advantage of the telephone at Wilbur & Kwapil’s drug store and told citizens to call #24-2. Very few townsfolk had the new-fangled thing so it is doubtful many ordered by telephone. Hall’s mill pond was becoming referred to as the trout stream when the best crop of clear ice “ever” came from there. Farmers and merchants from adjoining towns were harvesting a “store of ice” so it is possible trout ice was a notch above mill ice!

The produce business mushroomed when in February 1899 the Deckers spearheaded improvements to the Ahnapee & Western Railroad. They built a 25’ x 50’ icehouse set on pilings, near the round house in the A & W yard in Sturgeon Bay near the bay shore.  The Record predicted more business if Deckers built the railroad south to Two Rivers while telling residents of southern Kewaunee Co. to be aware of such an expansion. As soon as the Sturgeon Bay ice house was completed, it was filled with ice to supply refrigerator cars loaded in Sturgeon Bay and shipped during the berry season. A month later, Sturgeon Bay Fruit Growers put up 100 cords of ice for the shipping season to come.

From the amount of ice put up in January 1899, the Record said Algoma intended to give summer visitors a cool time during the hot months. Suggesting it was time for one of the enterprising citizens to think of putting up a cold storage building, the paper said it was needed if the city was to continue having the best markets in this part of the state for dairy products.

V.G. Pfeil had took the paper’s suggestion. It was reported in February 1902 that he purchased Lot 5 on South Water Street** from the Ahnapee Dock Co. When Pfeil’s building was completed, he accomplished something Algoma needed for a long time. The cold storage building was planned to serve Algoma and surrounding areas. Fruit shippers never had a fruit storage place and Pfeil’s building was a guaranteed success.

Within 20 years, ice boxes were part of many American homes. The wooden boxes were lead or zinc lined and filled with a block of ice, brought by the icemen who were among the most popular men in town. Ice lasted about a day, and in a time when floors were wood, black spots on the wood floors told callers how well the woman of the house kept order.

The ice harvests went on, however conveyors and trucks made the job a somewhat easier. Jobbers were injured in the harvest, however there was some humor too. Kewaunee’s Joseph Houdek found a 400 pound cake of ice on his barbershop after he jokingly said he’d trade ice for a shave. Local iceman Joseph Selner had gone for a shave in February 1935, however when he came to pay, he did not have money with him.  In jest, Houdek said he’d take the ice and an hour later, Selner parked his truck in front of the shop. Houdek scratched off the bill, but then needed to find someone to take it before it melted on the floor.

As late as March 1949, a Trottman & Selner Co. truck went through the river ice during harvesting. Damage was minor but the truck had to be pulled to the opposite side of the river, where it was shallower, and pulled out. That wasn't the only company whose truck plunged, but it happened as the ice business was wanning.

Refrigerators and freezers took over as communities began thinking of water quality, pollution, sewerage treatment and run-off.

* The Enterprize existed to 1865 when its name was changed to Enterprise.

** South Water Street wentfrom 4th eats where it intersected with the bottom of Steele St. Those few blocks are now the easter end of Navarino St.

Sources: Ahnapee Record, Algoma Press, Algoma Record, Algoma Record Herald, Commercial Development of Algoma Wisconsin, Vol. 1, Kewaunee Enterprise.

Graphics: Icehouse and Sanborne Map from Commercial Development of Algoma, Wisconsin, Vol 1; Selner Trottman photo from Kewaunee Enterprise.

Algoma and World War ll Rationing: Bay Leaves, Baby Formula, and Eggs, 2023

 

Failing to find bay leaves on grocery shelves is not the worst. The lack of baby formula is. In 2020, the U.S. saw huge toilet paper shortages and shortages of bleach, vinegar, sanitation products and more. Such purchases were limited to one of an item if a store had them. Shortages remain, but unless one is looking for bay leaves or needs baby formula, who’d know what should be on the empty shelves?

There were shortages at other times in U.S. history, but most were during wartime when citizens pulled together to make sure the troops had the best of what they needed. Among the best during the Civil War turned out to be moldy meats and flour with weevils. When World War l saw severe shortages in kerosene, the government admonished citizens to take care of lamps, lanterns, stoves and heaters to get the most from a gallon. The government stressed cleaning the equipment which was not to be used a minute more than necessary. Civil War households depended on themselves, but  as the country grew and changed, World War l housewives learned to make do with limited sugar and to make meatless and wheatless meals. There were coffee substitutes.

World War ll interfered with trade and when there were no silk stockings, creative women used eyebrow pencils to draw lines down the legs thus simulating stocking seams, but shortages of silk stockings was the least of the things folks dealt with.

Eighty years ago, World War ll was in full swing. As in World War l, just over a mere 20 years earlier, food, clothing, blankets, and more were needed for the troops. But, in the 1940s, there was rationing that was controlled. To be sure, though, there was a black market.

With the advent of World War ll, U.S. Office of Price Administration (OPA) began rationing certain foods and started with sugar in May 1942. By November, coffee, meat, canned fish, canned milk, cheese, and butter were added to the list. There was more. Shoes. Gasoline. Farm implements. Tires. The list grew.

When ration books were distributed, purchasing scarce items was supposed to be a little fairer since each person – even babies - received a book that listed the name and age, height, weight and physical description. The complicated system depended on ration stamps, coupons, certificates, and a point system that changed

Ration book stamps covered certain needs at specific times, however the items had to be available. At the beginning of the month, every person had 48 blue points and 64 red points, so, together, a family of four had 192 blue points for processed food and 256 red points for dairy products, fish, and meat. Stamps expired and each month brought new stamps. In September 1943, red stamps X and Y were valid for meat until October 2  while Z became valid on September 5 and remained valid through October 2. If a consumer wanted processed foods, blue stamps R, S, and T were to expire on September 20, 1943, while U, V and W were good and would not expire until October 20. Instructions were noted on each book.

How did consumers keep it straight? If folks bought newspapers, that helped as the following examples from September 1943 Algoma Record Heralds indicate.

The paper told readership about gasoline when it said that in “17 states of the eastern shortage area” A-6 coupons were valid, but outside that area A-7 coupons were valid through September 21. All coupons were endorsed and included the driver’s license number and the state of registration. Occupants of oil heated homes were urged to return their applications to the ration boards and place orders with dealers for summer fill-ups. Stamp No. 14 was good for 5 pounds of sugar through October, although numbers 15 and 16 were good for 5 pounds each for home canning. If housewives needed more, they needed to apply to the ration board using the form at the left found at Katch's, Ahrndt's, Farmers Co-op Co. and Horak's in Algoma. Stamp 18 allowed the purchase of one pair of shoes during October.

Certain kinds of rubber boots that had been used in farming were no longer manufactured thus released from rationing. How would anybody know? One only had to look. Released were all olive drab, clay or khaki colored rubber boots, and lightweight, ankle-fitting rubber boots that depended on stretching to fit. Quantities were small because merchants did not have complete stocks.

The paper went on to advise truck owners having tire certificates but not able to find the tires to apply at the nearest Motor Transport District Office of the Office of Defense Transportation, which appears to have been run by Wisconsin’s new State Patrol, which also saw to it that drivers conserved rubber by not exceeding 40 miles an hour.

The Defense Transportation Office was to forward the notice of inability to buy proper tires to the Office of the Rubber Director who was to attempt to properly redistribute tires so that the certificates would be honored. The issue was most significant when truck operators were unable to get critically needed tires necessary to keep up the supply chain of vital war freight.

One wishing to buy a stove found it was necessary to get a certificate at the local war price and rationing boards. When the U.S. had 37,000 air and liquid-cooled internal combustion 20-horsepower engines, they were controlled by the county farm rationing committees. Farmers or operators of farm machinery for hire could apply for a certificate based on the need for engines essential in crop and livestock production.

Planning and keeping dates in mind were nearly fulltime activities.

The September 3, 1943 Record Herald cautioned those planning to travel by train over Labor Day to know they would probably have to stand in the aisles because trains were so heavily loaded. The same paper told farmers they had to estimate their incomes by September 15 and pay-as-you-go. Single persons earning over $2,700 and married persons earning more than $3,500 would also need to file declarations as did anybody making at least $100 in sources other than wages.

At the same time, the paper said hog cholera serum was being made in record-breaking quantities. The U.S. was raising “vast” numbers of hogs. To encourage farmers to cure and store the bumper crop of sweet potatoes, there was a price support of $1.50 per bushel for No. 1 cured potatoes, properly packed in crates, bushels and baskets.

On September 10, the Record Herald told its readers that Ration Book 3 would become valid on the 12^th. Stamp A was good for 16 points through October 2. Brown stamps were valid on successive Sundays and expired on the Saturday closest to the end of the month. They were used for meats, fats, oils, and all commodities rationed with red stamps in Ration Book 2. Small stamps with pictures of guns, tanks and ships were not in use. Folks were told that if they had not received Book 3, they should apply to the local ration board.

Hay loaders, side delivery rakes and manure spreaders were put under OPA price controls, even if such machinery was sold by farmers or auctioneers. Maximum prices were based on 85% of cost when the item was new, if the item was less than a year old, or 70% of the item’s price if the equipment was over a year old.

Rationing made planning Christmas gifts difficult, however the Army Postal Service felt at least ten million packages would be sent overseas and wanted the packages sent between September 15 and October 15. The public was asked to securely wrap the packages, but to wrap in such a way that they were easily inspected before mailing. Edgar Nell of the ration distribution office in Algoma announced to parents of service men and women that in the event their sons and daughters got leaves, they were to ask for necessary ration papers at their camp. The form required signing by the applicant and the camp officer. Those failing to get the forms at camp had to jump through a few more hoops having to travel to the Green Bay Naval Recruiting Office and then take the signed documents to the ration board office.

Just when folks had Book 3 figured out, the government introduced Ration Book 4. The new book was said to contain more definite information and would last 96 weeks, or approximately 2 years. The book was worth more than gold! It combined point and unit stamps containing 384 stamps printed on safety paper in blue, red, green, and black inks. The green stamps were to be used on an interim basis in place of the processed food blue stamps in the way that brown stamps in Ration Book 3 wee being used for meat fats.

Something new were the 96-unit stamps printed in black. Seventy-two of the stamps were printed with “spare” in case additional ration currency was needed. Twelve of the stamps said “sugar” and another twelve were designated for coffee, which was no longer rationed. That being the case, the OPA said the coffee stamps could be used as additional spare stamps.

Rules governed stamp usage and woe be to the person who did not carefully care for the family ration books. When purchases were made, the stamp needed to be detached from the book in the presence of the merchant, his employee, or the person making deliveries for the storekeeper. If a stamp was torn out before being verified by watchful eyes, it was void. If it were partly torn or mutilated, it would be valid if at least half remained attached in the book.

Even those hospitalized adhered to the rules. If anyone entering a hospital, or any other institution, expected to stay beyond 10 days, the ration book was to be turned over to the one in charge. The book would be returned by request upon leaving the facility.

Not everything was rationed because of supply. Eggs were a victim of circumstances. It was obvious that if there was not enough grain for people, there would not be enough to feed animals. Because of the shortage of grain to feed chicken, millions of hens were killed and sold as food. Eggs were rationed by design, which allowed one egg per person per week, however pregnant women and vegetarians were allowed two eggs.

Most rationing ended at the close of World War ll, however sugar was rationed until June 1947 while meat was the last rationed item in 1954. Those who are old enough remember eating Spam in the 1940s and 1950s. Spam was the only meat never rationed. Maybe that’s why Spam got a bad rap, but it is back.

CNN Business said World War ll was “decisive” in Spam’s growth. Being canned, it did not need refrigeration and could be eaten “on the run.” Sometimes it was the only protein source available. Spam was associated with the war and rationing, prompting many to say they’d never eat it again, however the product has made a comeback and is even found in upscale restaurants. It is back for some of the same reasons it flourished 80 years ago: it is available, versatile and affordable.  Baby formular is not.

Surces: Algoma Record Herald, CNN Business accessed online., Wikipedia. Rations books are from the Blogger's collection.

Kewaunee County History: Marking an Ahnapee New Year

 

This picture postcard was sent early in the 1900s

Harriet Warner Hall was a 9-year-old child when she arrived with her parents Orin and Jane Warner on July 4, 1851, to be the 3^rd resident family of the place called Wolf River. When Mrs. Hall was interviewed about the founding of the community years later, she discussed the homemade beer at the wedding of Amine Parker and George Fowles in 1857. She said when there was a fiddler around, there was a dance, and that meant homemade beer to whet the whistle.

Harriet told about the fledgling community’s first Christmas, one of wont and deprivation. She didn’t describe bringing in the new year, which became more important as the hamlet gained residents. The 1850s residents did not bring in the new year with champagne toasts, but as time went on, that changed.

When Kewaunee Enterprize* began publication in September 1859, among the first ads were those for Berni & Zimmermann’s new Ellis Street Brewery. Also on Ellis Street was Joseph Duchoslav who was also brewing lager beer. The Enterprize informed readership about ship arrivals and in just one month in Fall 1859 ship arrivals at Hills & Carter’s South Pier in Kewaunee included three trips by Capt. James Flood. Flood brought beer in three of his four trips: 12 kegs, 10 kegs, 4 kegs which is a lot of beer for a county with 5,300 residents when roughly 2,400 were under the age of 20. If county residents wanted to bring in the year raising a glass or two, there would have been no shortage. Ahnepee* was without a newspaper until June 1873. Capt. Flood was frequently mentioned and always a popular captain, who no doubt made Ahnepee with the same products he brought to Kewaunee.

The Ahnapee Brewery was operating when the newly organized Record had thoughts on “spirits” well before New Years, possibly because of the Temperance movement when it said what a “practical toper proposed.” And what is a toper? Simply put, according to the Wiktionary, a toper is a drunkard.

As a compromise to Temperance women, the Record reported that one who “topes” might say, “O, woman, in our hours of ease, you know we’ll do what ‘ere you please; we’ll promise to renounce the sin of Bourbon, brandy, rum and gin, and so far as to refrain (except when tempted) from champagne; but have some mercy, do my dear, and leave, oh, leave us lager beer.” Was the Record plugging its advertisers!

By the early 1870s, W.N. Perry was selling California wine and Kentucky whiskies at his drugstore. Sam Perry was advertising wine and liquor in any quantity and Weilep, Decker, Boedecker, Villers and Marsh applied for liquor licenses. H.M. Terens let it be known he “constantly” had liquor in his Alaska House.

During its first year of publication – 1873 - the Record said New Year’s passed off quietly in the city* with nothing important going on. Several churches had services but it was sleigh riding that the young indulged. It seems as if Perry sold some of that fine wine and whiskey because he ran an ad asking all who owed him more than 30 days to stop at his drugstore to pay their debt.

It seemed as if 1877 must have been a slow news New Year as the Record saw fit to report on the Memoirs of St. Simon who commented on the hair dressing of the women of Paris in 1713. That year, the Duke and Duchess of Shrewsbury came from London to have the Duchess say hair fashions were ridiculous. Parisian women were wearing brass wire edifices to hold up their hair over two feet. They adorned the “structure” with ribbons and what the Duchess thought was rubbish. Moving caused the edifice to tremble. King Louis XlV was disgusted with the hair, but even as King, he could do nothing to get rid of the fashion that lasted for 10 years.

As it was, 1877 was a year that set records. On January 3, the Record reported a balmy, spring-like new year with lilac buds turning green and even opening. Door County farmers were plowing, and Sever Anderson, in Clay Banks, sowed 4 bushels of spring wheat the day before Christmas. Cold toes and ears for New Year’s suggested weather was turning.

The Baptist Church planned a Dime Sociable which offered choice readings, singing, instrumental music. All proceeds were to go to reducing the church debts. That was happening when about 75 people surprised the Charles Fellows family at New Years. The group met at George Youngs’ residence and then “took the Fellows’ residence by storm.” The Record said some who had not taken part in such an event in 20 years were among those who turned out, and that Fellows would remember the evening forever. Fellows invited the throng to gather at his Foscoro home for New Years Eve 1878.

During those early years, county residents thought of more at the New Year than the raised glass. Whether folks went to Fellows’ Foscoro home in 1878 is debatable because typhoid was almost sweeping the county. Teacher Fannie Gregor and her sister were quite sick, as were Charles Deda and Dr. Martin. With Martin in bed and so much sickness, Dr. F. Simon of Manitowoc was called to Kewaunee to offer his assistance.

Typhoid was there in 1878, along with some scarlet fever when the weather changed after Christmas. Roads partially froze, although not hard enough to support teams in places. Some said New Year’s seemed like Sunday because businesses closed, and folks attended services at nearly every denomination. “Happy New Year” was heard all over and streets were filled with smiles even though residents were dealing with serious illnesses.

Tanner Michael Luckenbach ended 1878 marketing his house and lot at the corner of Navarino and 4^th Streets. Luckenbach felt his lot, with 80’ frontage on 4^th and 150’ on Navarino, was the best in the village. He planned to sell for $800 with $200 down and the balance on easy terms. Luckenbach sold his tannery to his partner, Mr. Meverden, and in December 1878 was proprietor of the East River House in Green Bay. Luckenbach didn’t get the tannery out of his system because his Green Bay hotel was opposite a large tannery. A small part of the original tannery business burned when Bearcat’s Fish House was destroyed in a 2021 fire.

With the news there was, one would not think the paper had to go looking for it. But it did, and reported on an unusual custom found in the Boston Transcript. Apparently Greeks, Romans, Persians, and Gauls saw eggs as renewal at both Easter and New Year’s. If those in Boston celebrated New Years with eggs, it was not noted, however such a custom never caught on in Ahnapee.

In 1879 the Record said the new year was received with feelings of dread as the old was remembered with regret, however it felt that the year was good to people. It went on to opine that if there was nothing to regret, there was nothing to hope for in the future. According to the Record, the beginning of the year is for making resolutions but later in the season was the time to break the slate. Nothing new there.

C.J. Barnes bought the Record in August 1879 from Hiram Wing who received a flattering offer from Jamestown, Dakota. Barnes thanked customers and asked them to continue the support. He felt the new decade would bring improvements to the lively, newsy paper and to the office, a resolution which would not be broken because it was a Leap Year, and “a little off.” Why a little off? Editor Barnes said 1880 was a year where “women propose and men dispose.” He continued to make a statement, saying it was “jubilant when we think how jolly it is going to be to say “no” as “It’s a long lane that no turn has.” The paper suggested each day should be an improvement on the past since lives are strengthened by experience.  Diphtheria raised its ugly head again and New Year’s Eve 1879 saw the C. Martin family of Carlton lose three children to diphtheria. They were kept together and buried in one grave. Just after that, two more of the Martin children died. It was said one school district had 20 children who died of diphtheria.

Light housekeeper Samuel Stone was living in Sandy Bay when he went to Manitowoc where he saw Dr. Cookley on December 30, 1879. Stone had surgery for a Rebel bullet to the leg in the Civil War 16 years earlier. Stone wanted Cookley to prob for the bullet which had pained him for so long. Cookley made an incision on the opposite side of the leg where he found a good-sized chunk of lead. Surgery was successful, and Stone said he felt like a different man.

The Record marked the end of 1879 by mentioning its large subscriber list, thanking subscribers and friends for sending in news items. The paper said it would be glad to have all subscribers pay up a year in advance and forward names of those who would be possible subscribers. The close of 1879 found the firm of Hitchcock & Kwapil dissolved by the retirement of Mr. Hitchcock. His part of the property in the Alaska store and pier was bought by Frank Shimmel and Joseph H. Janda who joined Frank Kwapil in the new company. That transaction made the company the largest business in the northern part of Kewaunee Co. as the firm had three stores in operation, the one in Ahnapee, one in Forestville and the new company at Alaska.

To round out the year, Simon Pies reminded folks to pay their City* of Ahnapee taxes which would be collected at his 4^th Street residence.

A watch meeting at the Methodist Episcopal Church on New Year’s Eve welcomed 1880. Residents also brought in the year at two balls, one at the Temple of Honor, given by William Dingman, and the other at the Wisconsin House. Both dances were said to “pass off merrily” into the small hours of the morning. The Record promised the day would linger in the minds of many with “thoughts of sweet and loving kindness” before passing into time. The same paper that offered a “Happy New Year” also said, “Pay your taxes.”

As the city grew, ads called attention to fine wines and oysters, which were popular at New Year’s. There were parties and dances for those who could get there if the roads had hard packed snow to allow the horses to get through. Harriet Warner Hall felt the pioneer days ended in about 1860. Although Ahnapee was greatly affected by the Civil War, there were marked changes in the 1860s and 1870s. Ahnapee was no backwater.

 

Notes: Renamed Algoma in 1897, its first name was Wolf River and derivations until 1859 when it was renamed Ahnepee (Ojibwa for “Where is the river?”) until the place was chartered as a village in 1873 when there was a change in the spelling. Since the state and others consistently spelled the place’s name with two a’s and two e’s, the village couldn’t “beat ‘em” so “joined ‘em.” In 1879 the Village of Ahnapee was chartered as the City of Ahnapee.

Kewaunee’s newspaper underwent a spelling change in 1865 when Enterprize became Enterprise.

Sources: Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record Herald; An-An-api-sebe” Where is the River”; Kewaunee Enterprize/Enterprise; https://en.wiktionary.org. The postcard is from the blogger's collection. Images can be found in the Kannerwurf, Sharpe, Johnson Collection at Algoma Public Library,

Kewaunee County History: An 1851 Wolf River Christmas

 

Manhattan Transfer’s “Christmas is a comin’ and the geese are getting fat……” is a popular take on a song arranged by Frank Luther and sung by Bing Crosby and others a generation ago. Even the Kingston Trio had a version. Youngsters recognize the music featured by John Denver in a Muppets’ special, in A Charlie Brown Christmas and more.

The founding residents of Wolf River – Ahnepee in 1859, Ahnapee in 1873, and Algoma in 1897 – no doubt wished they had geese, fat or not.

The Hughes and Tweedale families arrived in Wolf River at the end of June 1851. A few days later, on July 4^th, Orin Warner’s family became the third permanent family at the place. Orin and Jane Warner had three children, Harriet aged 9, and two boys, 7 and 3.

Being the first of the firsts was not easy. The three families had only themselves on whom to depend. It would be the following summer before Goodrich’s rickety old Citizen changed their lives when it dropped anchor in the lake, bringing supplies and people.

What was Christmas 1851 like? Years later, Harriet, then Mrs. Abraham Hall, remembered that first Christmas in an interview with the local paper, Ahnapee Record. There were no geese getting fat in that difficult winter of deprivation. Harriet mentioned the deer, ducks, fish, partridges and the partridge eggs they gathered, but Christmas dinner 1851 was a salt pork pie. Spring was a long way off and there were no eggs. Ducks and most birds had gone south. Deer were scarce, and thick river ice needed to be chopped to fish. More than likely, the salt pork pie was a feast that day. Laura Ingalls Wilder would later write that “Ma” got ready for Christmas by baking bread, crackers, pie, and cookies. Caroline Ingalls cooked salt pork too, but it was in the beans she made.

Had the Warners been in Waukegan where Jane’s parents, the Bennetts, lived, Christmas would have been far different. Over the years, Ahnapee’s Christmas celebration changed too.

If the Warner children received gifts, no doubt it was mittens or stockings that Jane had knitted, or possibly something that Orin got in Manitowoc on one of his trips walking down the lakeshore for supplies. If the small log homes were decorated, it was with green boughs adorned with pinecones, perhaps a ribbon or two, or maybe even strings of popcorn. Christmas trees would have taken far too much room in the log homes for years to come.

Twelve years later, Ahnapee (the name was respelled in 1873) had a new newspaper with merchants advertising wares for Christmas giving. Home-crafted gifts such as preserves, needlework and candies were popular while stores such as August Fromming’s on 4^th and Clark Street offered such things as confections, sachets, perfume, “Yankee notions,” sewing supplies, tobacco pouches, shaving soaps and slippers. William Perry’s Steele Street drugstore sold books and stationery. Logancrantz’s jewelry, at the northwest corner of 4^th and Steele, sold everything in silver – dishes, napkin rings, and cutlery. Mr. Logancrantz also pointed to his gold pens and holders, and all types of jewelry.

Ahnapee Record was in its infancy when it published its first Christmas edition. The editors, George Wing and Charles Borgman, reported seeing loads of evergreens on the street while churches smelled like pine and spruce. Parents were mysterious and children were expectant. Anthems and carols were joyful, sounding like angels singing. How much that Wolf River Christmas had changed in a mere 12 years! Even the community’s name changed twice in that time.

In that first edition, the paper wished readership “peace on earth and good will to men.” The paper talked of families gathering at the fireside while other who were gray thought of Christmas gatherings past. Some surely included Jane and Orin Warner’s family. Others were the Tweedale grandchildren. The Hughes family left the area around the time of the Civil War.

Sir Clement Moore penned A Visit from St. Nicholas on December 23, 1823. It caught on fast. Just over 25 years later, the paper echoed the poem, telling stories about the shoes and frocks that “old Santa” left in Ahnapee stockings.

On the 31^st, the paper said St. Mary’s services were of “an interesting nature.” The church Christmas tree was “illuminated by 110 burners for a beautiful emblem of Christmas teachings.” Young and old participated at St. Paul’s where a Christmas tree was beautifully laden with presents for the little children who had to wait patiently until the Lutheran school students sang and recited selections appropriate to Christmas Eve. Congregants at the German Methodist Church were said to have “enjoyed a season of rare pleasure.” Following devotionals, youngsters were enthusiastic about the books, toys and pretty items adorning the tree.

The Baptists did not observe Christmas Day with a service, however the next day was Sunday and the church – as the others in town – was filled to capacity. On the evening of the 26th, which was the Sabbath, Wilhelmshoe was the site of a grand ball. The only problem was that not enough tickets were sold to fund the grand prize which had to be postponed.

A few days later, the Masonic Lodge offered entertainment beginning with Maj. Joseph McCormick’s words on the tenets of Masonry and its relationship with Jesus Christ. Ahnapee Quadrille Band provided wonderful music after McCormick’s remarks, and a midnight supper ended a beautiful evening attended by many from Kewaunee, Foscoro, Forestville, Casco, Sturgeon Bay, Clay Banks, and even from Chicago.

Christmas celebrations differed over the years. The influx of Germans brought Christmas trees which turned into a business in December 1876. Each ethnic group brought its own customs and traditions, but it appears that salt pork pie was not one of them!

Sources: Ahnapee Record; An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River? Postcard is from the blogger's collection.

Kewaunee County History & Algoma's Secret Societies

 Transparency. The buzzword of the 2020s. But transparency doesn't exist and probably never will.

Secret societies sound so sinister, yet according to Ahnapee Record, the community had them. It wasn't just the small tow of Ahnapee. Such societies existed around the country and the county, even in neighboring communities such as Forestville, Casco, Kewaunee, Carlton and others. Some of the secretive groups were "anti-treating" - the groups which belonged to the anti-alcohol mpovements whose members pledged not to offer or accept drinks in saloons or other places where alcohol might be bought and sold. Some secret societies focused on mutual aid, but others were just plain secret.

The last of the 19^th century was the heyday of such societies, and charlatan leadership was often not far behind. Well before 1900, there was an uproar about secret societies that went as far as an Anti-Secret Society Convention. When the group had its 1869 meeting, attendees went after the secular press, saying even religious papers didn’t have the guts to come out for Christ. It kept on.

More recently Dan Brown’s DaVinci Code shined light on such societies. Once editor of the Daily Beast and Rolling Stone, Noah Shachtman wrote that some groups provided for “open dialogue about everything from academia to religious discourse, removed from the restrictive eye of church and state.” Shachtman further stated the societies were “incubators of democracy, modern science, and ecumenical religion.” Such groups elected leaders and drew up a constitution. He said George Washington, Ben Franklin and Voltaire were members of such groups, and “just like today’s networked radicals, much of their power was wrapped up” in anonymity.

Lisa Hix penned an article appearing in a 2016 Dallas Morning News (accessed online) about 19^th century secret societies selling life insurance within fraternal rituals. Modern Woodmen of America was one of the societies, and one found in Ahnapee/Algoma. Hix says Modern Woodmen “made life insurance approachable and fun by packaging it in the familiar order culture of the day.” She went on to say two Woodmen societies remained in existence although were no longer fraternal.

Until around the mid-1900s, Modern Woodmen restricted membership to white men from 18 to 45. At a time when Catholics and Jews saw discrimination, the Woodmen admitted the two faiths as well as all Protestants, atheists, and agnostics. In the beginning, the white males came from the healthiest states that included Wisconsin and its neighbors. The group was not open to those whose occupation was among the most dangerous such as miners and railroad workers, but even baseball players were thought to be in a dangerous profession. Those who joined the Woodmen were forced to acknowledge their own mortality, as did the Masons, a group in Ahnapee by 1869.

When Maynard T. Parker chronicled the short 22-year history of Wolf River/Ahnapee in the October 12, 1873 Record, he told readership The Grand Army of the Republic was the community’s second secret lodge, although it was disbanded within a short time. He pointed to the Masonic Lodge as the third secret lodge. Key Lodge #174 was established on June 8, 1869 and a week later Will Frisbie was its representative to a convention of the Grand Lodge of Wisconsin F & A.M. (Free and Accepted Masons) The first organized secret lodge must have been so secret that Parker never mentioned it, however in January 1874, the Record pointed to the organization of another new secret society in town, although its name and goals were not known. The organization was Lone Lodge No. 1 of the Knights of the Iron Band, which history says was formed in the winter of 1874.

By September 1877, Ahnapee had four societies listing their meeting nights in the weekly Record: the Key Lodge No 174 F & A Masons met in their hall on the corner of 3^rd and Clark, while the Sons of Herman met in their 2^nd Street hall. St. Joseph Society met in the home of P.M. Simon, the Temple of Honor No. 111 met in their 3^rd and Clark  Steet hall, and the YMCA met in the Baptist Church parlors. Knights of the Iron Band did not announce meeting nights.

That The Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) was secret is a surprise. Wikipedia says it was the largest of all Union Army veterans' groups and the "most single-issue political lobby of the late 19th century, securing massive pensions for veterans and helping to elect fice postwar presidents from its own ranks." For members, it was a secret fraternal group, a charitable group, a provider of entertainment and a patriotic organization.

The GAR seems far from a secret organization although in Secret Societies in America, author W.S. Harwood called attention to the military oath and said the military was “knit together by secret threads.” It would seem that military secrets are necessary.

Wolf River/Ahnapee’s early days were healthy. The population was young, and isolation kept it germ free. As the community grew, so did lumbering and sailing. Both were dangerous, and both took lives. Then came the Civil War with the death and disease. Risk of injury and death were always there in everyday life. If the husband died, who was there to provide for the wife and children? Nobody wanted to be on the “poor list,” though many were. Joining secret clubs such as the Freemasons and Odd Fellows, men found networking and entertainment. They also found help.

Major Joseph McCormick was a member of Ahnapee’s F & A Lodge when his horse threw his buggy injuring him in 1875. McCormick was 88 years old, in serious condition and unable to move. As a 33^rd degree Mason, McCormick was cared for by the Lodge. Googling tells us the thirty-third degree is an honorary award bestowed upon Scottish Rite Freemasons who have made major contributions to society or Freemasonry. McCormick certainly did. His story is chronicled in previous posts.

Following the Civil War, mutual benefit societies  popped up offering insurance. Ahnapee saw the Sons of Hermann/Herman and Knights of the Iron Band. Even as women and Blacks were excluded from such societies, between 1890 and 1930, up to 1/3 of American men belonged to at least one secret society.

Wikipedia says the Sons of Herman was a mutual aid society for German immigrants, formed in Ney York in July 1840. It remains active in some states today. While membership was restrictive in the early days, the society is open to all today, providing insurance and aid. Founded in New York in response to anti-German sentiment, the group historically preserved German traditions and language. The Sons were an offshoot of the Odd Fellows, however there were declines in Sons’ membership with the advent of World War 1, and again because of anti-German sentiment.

At one time the Catholic Church refused to bury members of the Sons because of rituals, but that disappeared. German Jews were members, and in Milwaukee, those of the Jewish faith held leadership positions, something that didn’t happen with every group. Mothers, wives, daughters and sisters were allowed in a female auxillary. It was in July 1985 when the national organization required all to purchase a life insurance policy.

The Sons of Herman organized in Forestville before founding the Sons of Herman Ahnapee Lodge #23 in September 1874 with twenty-seven members. John Weilep was elected president of Bismarck Lodge, No 23, O.D.H.S. (Der Orden der Hermanns-Soehne) when the Sons of Herman was organized in Ahnapee by an officer of an officer of the Grand Lodge of the State. Launched with fourteen charter members, the society flourished, they planned to meet at Weilep’s (now the Hotel Stebbins) until their new hall was ready. Though rejecting the “social glass,” Sons of Hermann was known to be a friendly organization and at its organization members learned the mysteries of the order such as “riding the goat,” which has several meanings, most associated with Masons.

Not long following the Lodge’s formation, Ahnapee’s Lutheran congregation passed a resolution. Feeling that because the German lodge was secret, it was unchristian, and, therefore, Ahnapee Lutherans felt lodge members should be excluded from church membership. However, it is unclear if any of the Sons lost their membership.

Catholics too dealt with secret societies. In May 1880, Ahnapee's Father Cipin wrote a letter to the Record  defending the church's St. Wenceslaus men's group which was joining the society of St. Louis, another Bohemian society. Cipin said St. Louis was neither a lodge nor secret society as identified by the paper a week earlier, but an open, public society. He said the Catholic church forbid secret societies and any Catholic who joined one would be excommunicated. Cipin said the Society of St. Louis was named Bohemian Catholic Central Association and was focused on mutual support.

On September 20, 1894, the Record listed officers for the new St. Francis Court #465, a subordinate of the Catholic Order of Foresters. Each member carried $1,000 in insurance and after six months would receive weekly benefits in the event of sickness or accident. The paper said the Foresters were the only "secret society, that is, the only society that makes use of a password, sign, grip, etc. connected with the Catholic church at present."

Almost two years later, in July 1896, Kewaunee Enterprise mentioned Archbishop Frederick Katzer, third bishop of the Green Bay Diocese, who was Archbishop of Milwaukee at the time. Katzer fought a proposition to introduce secret rituals into the Order of the Catholic Knights and went to Stevens Point to fight against the idea. If the Knights had elected to be a secret society, Archbishop Katzer would have withdrawn his support.

Iron Band Society, Lone Lodge #1, was founded in 1874 to propagate "anti-treating" ideas, paramount at the Monday meeting nights. Such leading citizens as Michael McDonald, John R. Doak, George W. Wing, Orange Conger, Simon Warner, John McDonald, Irving W. Elliot, Maynard Parker, Levi Parsons, George Bacon, and E.T. Tillapaugh were elected officers in December 1874.

A fire near the Ahnapee piers was one of the first big conflagrations to challenge the fledgling fire department. About 3 AM one night just before Christmas 1874, the Pier Company's store building at the foot of Steele was engulfed in flames. According to Editor William Seymour, though the fire department was efficient, the building was destroyed with property inside. G.W. Youngs, who used a portion of the building as an office, was able to remove the safe, books and other valuables. The Knights of the Iron Band, the secret society that met on the second floor, was not so lucky. The society lost all its property including a valuable English book printed in London during the early 1700s, other rare books, and geological and vegetable curiosities. The society had met the previous night and theirs was the only stove lit.

A few hundred dollars’ worth of tools and items, belonging to the government but stored there, were among the substantial loss. Insurance agent Peter Schiesser said there was an insurance policy of $1,000 although the building was worth about $2,000. It was said the fire would have been far worse for the village had the winds not been blowing from the southwest, so toward the lake.

The fire did little to dampen enthusiasm in the Knights of the Iron Band. Immediately following the fire Senior Grand Knight Michael McDonald announced future meetings would be he in the hall in J.R. McDonald’s building at the corner of 2^nd and Steele. The Knights eventually began meeting in Temple of Honor Hall, the site of the Knights’ entertainment on January 3, 1881, an evening of entertainment that included recitations, debate, speeches, instrumental and vocal music.

A few days earlier, on New Year’s Eve, the Lone Lodge members wore their regalia and emblems during a torch light parade. The paper said the order’s principles were universal, but mystery was “embodied in its organization.” It further aid that the society brought curiosity among the public. Curiosity was somewhat satisfied in April when the Record reported on a strange, mysterious installation – a solemn occasion - of Lone Lodge No 1 of Iron Band of the I Alone officers’ ceremony. Readership was informed that more excited residents witnessed  the event than any other secret society, partly because it appeared so strange to the populace. While outsiders felt it was mysterious, many believed it was a horrible, diabolical secret society.

The Record’s reporter found barely enough room in the area allotted to spectators. Describing the center of the remaining space with its catafalque draped in black and decorated with white, the reporter said it held the figure of a man in clay. He went on to say: “Clothed in the robe of the order, with hands folded upon his breast, his clear-cut marble-like features showed the body by the light of four tapers which were sustained by candelabrums (sic) of gold and silvered glass, stood upon the black drapery at each corner of the bier upon which his form rested.” High officers stood on an elevated platform behind the catafalque while two guards, “in gloomy robes,” walked back and forth armed with spear and battle ax. 

As members marched in, the Knight of the Ceremonies directed them to seats on either side of the hall. As they gave the Iron Band salutation, they sat facing the bier. Then the Knight escorted the Grand Senior Knight Commander to his station where he received the salutation of the Knights. 

It was most unusual when the Senior Knight placed his left hand on the cold forehead of the clay figure as he promised to be fair, fearless, and faithful in his governance of keeping true temperance, stressing that excess is dangerous, downgrading, and leads to suffering and misery. He pledged to maintain the order and not allow it to come into neglect. Receiving the badge of the order, the other officers came forward  to pledge a faithful performance before the Grand Senior Knight delivered an address. Exhorting officers to faithfulness, vigilance, and earnestness, the Grand Senior Knight warned them about the responsibilities they were assuming. 

The Senior Knight went on to discuss temperance, saying the concept of treating was not “sanctioned or sustained by the customs of any other nation except our own.” He said it was foolish to squander money on one who does not care to buy something they don’t want, such as a headache. While he thought it might be acceptable to have one glass of beer or spirits, to drown one’s sorrows was hoggish, beastly, and degrading.” He said members were forbidden from giving or accepting “treats,” thus drunkeness would cease.  As solemn and dark as the installation and address were, dancing followed the address.

The Record’s reporter told readership he couldn’t fully explain the society which was so closely connected with mysterious ceremonies. The black robes were sombre and their badges represented iron, silver, and golden degrees of the I Alone. The costumes represented Iron and Golden bands.

In June 1881, Lone Lodge No 1 of the I Alone cast a unanimous vote directing each member to go before a magistrate to make a complaint about any lodge member who had been expelled for violating the anti-treating law. The Lodge did not feel its members should have the duty of enforcing laws on any but its own members. When the Lodge said “temperance,” it meant it. Temperance in excessive drinking was required, and the Lodge felt “excessive” happened in saloons and that promoted drunkenness. Saloon owners were not in favor of the movement.

Temple of Honor had its beginning in the U.S. about 1845. The society had a secret ritual based on medieval Knights Templar, a fraternal group with signs, handshakes, and passwords resembling those of the Masons and Odd Fellows. Ahnapee’s Temple 111 organized in early March 1877  with – according to Ahnapee Record - 27 drinkers, about two-thirds of whom were called hard drinkers. To look at the list of those in leadership positions, Ahnapee’s leading citizens were among the fifteen officers selected and installed. Apparently, some considered themselves hard drinkers as many of the officers held leadership positions in the Iron Band Society formed a few years earlier.

Algoma Record Herald reported Anti-treating passed  Wisconsin’s legislature and was signed by the 14^th Governor of Wisconsin, William E. Smith in late March 1881. Any treating in that resulted in conviction was to be fined no less than $5 and no more than $10 for each offense.

Some thought it was one of the most ridiculous laws ever while others thought it was the most effective temperance law ever passed. It permitted a man to drink what he wanted if nobody else paid for it. The Record saw the new law as a law to be broken, but it hoped for enforcement. Those who pointed toward ridiculous were proven right.

Cato Institute, in  an article by Mark Thornton, Policy Analysis No. 157, July 17, 1991, explains why Prohibition was a miserable failure. When Prohibition passed in 1920, it was felt that law would result in better health and hygiene, reduce crime and corruption, and even the tax burden from prisons and poorhouses.

The Cato Institute’s significant research concluded that," Although consumption of alcohol fell at the beginning of Prohibition, it subsequently increased. Alcohol became more dangerous to consume, crime increased and became "organized," the court and prison systems were stretched to the breaking point, and corruption of public officials was rampant. No measurable gains were made in productivity or reduced absenteeism. Prohibition removed a significant source of tax revenue and greatly increased government spending. It led many drinkers to switch to opium, marajuana, patent medicines, cocaine, and other dangeroussubstances that they would have been unlikely to encounter in the absence of Prohibition."  

The number of Ahnapee saloons seem to indicate the village/city secret societies did not desire to bring an end to all alcohol, just buying a drink for another to consume. Total calls for abstinence came later. Prohibition came to an end in 1933, just as Wisconsin's anti-treating laws did years before.

The Depression and Social Security in 1935 ended much of the fraternal insurance since many wee unable to make their payments. As movies and radio came into existence, they supplied the entertainment once offered by the societies, many of which faded into society.

Sources: Ahnapee Record/Algoma Record Herald; An-An-api-sebe:Where is the River?; Cato Institute article by Mark Thornton, Policy Analysis No. 157, July 17, 1991; Commercial History of Algoma, WI Vol 1; Hix, Kisa, 2016 Dallas Morning News (accessed online); Lewis, Phil, History of Modern Woodmen an American Fraternity, 4/2021 (accessed online); https://www.history.com/news/secret-societies-freemasons-knights-templar; Wikipedia..

 

Kewaunee County History: Courting, Bundling, Pabst Beer and More

 

Courting. Dating. Relationship. The words mean essentially the same thing: the time before marriage. There was a time when women were married off to enlarge a kingdom or cement foreign relations. Women were married off to enlarge a farm or married off just to get rid of her feet from under the family table. One less to feed meant more food for the others. Male children were physically, thus economically, more important. Males carried on the family name and inherited property. Females bore children, kept a household intact, and were even known to pull plows when the family didn’t own a horse or oxen.

Deaths were so frequent following the earliest settling of the East Coast that it was not unusual for an afternoon wedding to follow a morning funeral. A widow was joined in marriage with the most recent widower. A woman needed a man to provide for her, while the man needed a woman to do for him. There was no courting. There was no time to mourn. The marriage following the funeral was one of expedience.

As the American west opened, there was a shortage of women, prompting men to run newspaper ads for wives. Widows and other single eastern women in lower economic circumstances went west to find a husband. A family’s prosperity and survival often depended on the marriage, and often, there was no courtship.              

Ancestry.com describes an ad appearing in an Arkansas newspaper. As Ancestry pointed out, the husband-to-be wanted a woman who would bring practical skills to the marriage. The ad? “Any gal that got a bed, calico dress, coffee pot and skillet, knows how to cut out britches and can make a hunting shirt, knows how to take care of children can have my services until death do us part.” Ancestry did not say how many flocked to answer that ad.

Generations past, real courting included long conversations and spending time with each other. Letters include such wording as “my friend” or “your friend,” while Wikipedia tells us the courting friendship was the “idea of being intimate friends with someone before becoming an intimate lover.”

The times spent in conversations might be followed with a walk that included a chaperone. Time was spent together at social events. If things went well, the man would ask for the woman’s hand in marriage, however in the case of Henry Harkins and Lucy Eveland in Wolf River, it was an elopement a few years following the first settling of the community that would become Algoma.

The elopement was an interesting twist of events because the two families were connected years before. Henry, or Capt. Hank, Harkins was courting Abram and Almira Eveland's 15-year-old daughter, Lucy, while the Evelands were still living in Racine. Because of Lucy's tender age, Mr. and Mrs. Eveland discouraged the courtship and then forbid the marriage, but the young couple was not dissuaded. By the spring of 1855, the Evelands had relocated to Wolf River when Harkins, with David Youngs as his mate, sailed the Lucy Ann to the hamlet. Lucy boarded, and the couple, with Dave as the chaperone, sailed off to elope. Youngs built the fledgling community’s first pier and became the town’s leading factor. The thing was, Dave was the foster son of the Evelands – having been taken in at nine years old following the death of his mother - and the brother-in-law of Hank, the brother of Dave’s late wife Amanda. One would think the Evelands would have hit the ceiling when their 15-year-old daughter ran off with their own Dave abetting the marriage. Adding to the the convoluted story, Henry Harkins was Abram Eveland's employee and was captain of the vessel Mr. Eveland named in honor of his daughter, Henry's heart throb. Dave was part owner of the boat. But it all worked out. Lucy was legally married. What could her parents do? The seemed go with "If ya can't beat 'em, join 'em."

In today’s world, sleeping together and living together are common. Such bedding was common during the country’s colonial days, but not the way one would think. Most courting took place within a two-mile radius, the distance one could easily walk. The cold of winter, depths of snow, and pitch-dark nights made a difference. The man stayed the night and couples “bundled.” In that arrangement, the couple would stay fully clothed while sharing a bed, sometimes with a bundling board between them. Since homes were so cold, the bundling put the kibosh on any hanky-panky while keeping the young couple warm. Besides that, the couple was right under the noses of the girl’s parents.

Frequently, the groom was establishing himself and by the time he married, he was 10 years or more older than the bride. Harriet Warner was a child of 9 when her parents arrived in Wolf River on July 4, 1851. The Warners were one of the three founding families. Onetime Lake Michigan mariner Abraham Hall opened a store in 1852 and followed with a sawmill and then a gristmill. It was a year following the opening of the grist mill that Hall married Harriet who was nearly 25 years his junior. The ceremony took place at Harriet's grandmother’s home in Waukegan, Illinois, although the couple always lived in what became Algoma.

Marriage between close cousins is generally not permitted, however in the mid-1800s first cousins married. Surprisingly, Charles Darwin married his first cousin Emma Wedgewood. Jesse James didn’t rush into anything when he married his first cousin Zerelda Mimms after a 9-year courtship. Such relationships mattered to French Canadians well over 100 years before Darwin when this Blogger found "fourth degree bloodlines" (written in French) on ancestors' matrimonial contract.

The Depression made a difference in marriage and brought long-term courtships. 1930 saw the lowest marriage rates in the U.S. while couples were sometimes engaged for years as they worked to be self-supporting. The beginning of World War ll saw marriages on-the-spur-of-the-moment. Women were widows before they had a chance to be wives, and often the hasty marriages resulted in divorces at the end of the war.

Courting ended in marriage, and marriages were social events. Tiny Wolf River’s first notable social event was the marriage of Mary Yates to Captain Charles Fellows in 1856. Mary's father, “the courtly” Squire John L.V. Yates, performed the wedding ceremony. Other Record Herald history says the wedding of Amine Parker and George Fowles was the first in Wolf River during the winter of 1857 or 1858. They were occasions Harriet Warner Hall remembered being celebrated with homemade beer and a fiddler.

It was courting that brought good ferry service to Wolf River in the 1850s when Goodrich's three-masted barkentine Cleveland served Green Bay, Kewaunee, and Wolf River. It’s a story that wraps up with the Pabst beer dynasty. But how did that happen?

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Philip-Best

Captain Frederick Pabst, master of the Cleveland, was courting brewer Jacob Best’s daughter. It was said that was why Capt. Pabst always made good time to Milwaukee. Pabst went from the Cleveland to the Comet in 1861 and was said to be "every inch a sailor," known to be a fearless man who would always pick a German crew if he could. The Enterprise reported the Comet was "one of the best boats on the lake" and it was "officered by true gentlemen," great favorites of the traveling public. Wedding his girl, Maria Best, on March 25, 1862, Johann Gottlieb Frederich (Frederick) Pabst entered business with his father-in-law and later began the company bearing the Pabst name. Generations after Capt. Pabst left sailing, his name remained well-known in Ahnapee/Algoma!

When the Honorable D.A. Reed, Sturgeon Bay District Attorney, was in Ahnapee courting, the paper informed readership. On wonders why the Record felt compelled to point out that there was “nothing improper” in the June 1874 visit. In March 1875, the Record called attention to Rufus Wing, S.H. Sedgwick and George Wing of Kewaunee who paid a visit to Ahnapee. The senior Wing and Sedgwick said they were in town on legal business while the paper called the visit “paradoxical” because it was known both were married men who were in town “a’ courting.” Since they were lawyers, the paper was having some fun. It wasn't women they were "courting." In October 1881, the Record announced the names of Ahnapee men courting in Kewaunee. It was no secret then because some of the men were widowers playing the field. Men of the era certainly needed to find a woman to “do” for them. Local women no doubt knew too much about them.

The Record reported in September 1880 that through the power of Father Cipin, the long-expected marriage of Mary Meunier and Carsten Smith was “consummated at the Catholic Church.” (Language was used differently in those days.) According to the paper, townsfolk noticed that each possessed “an affection for the other that can only be terminated with a union of the hearts.” Perhaps the popular Smith was a bit shy and needed prodding to get on with courting and the wedding.

Newspapers got into the courting patterns and October 1880 was no exception when papers brought scandal and sensationalism to the courting and elopement news. There were stories in the Record, Enterprise, Chicago Times, DePere News, and who knows where else. The papers said Kewaunee County priest Fr. Phillip Crud and Miss Zoe Allard were the “principal characters.” Tongues wagged when Miss Allard broke off her engagement at the time Crud was leaving the area. In the end, Crud was in Cincinnati and Miss Allard was in DePere with her father.

A few years later, the paper said there were hundreds of women who can “thrum” a piano to one who could make a loaf of good bread. The paper said men enjoy a good dinner more than music. When a man is courting, he lives at home, and if he needs to travel, he can find good meals at a hotel or “eating-house.” In a word to the wise, the paper felt even a lion could be tamed with good food.

In March 1886, the Record called attention to the empty-headed boys who felt they were beyond boyhood and were dudes old enough for courting. The  “dudes” called on a neighbor girl who welcomed them. It was a pleasant evening until her father thought it was time for bed, but the boys failed to take the hint and over stayed. Just after midnight, the boys were startled by an apparition in white, shaped like the ”old man” carrying a club. Bidding a hasty retreat with the ghost in hot pursuit, the boys got to the door, but it was locked. Seeing an open window, they went through it. The last boy crawling through the window said the ghost’s club was “awfully heavy and red hot besides.” More than a few fair maidens had an “old man” who knew how to get rid of bothersome courters.

Three years later, an article concerned a young courting man who gave his young lady a lozenge to help relieve her cough. It didn’t work. The next day he received a note with a coat button in it. The note said he must have given her the wrong kind of lozenge, one which he might need. Obviously, the woman in the article wasn’t going to sew on his button. The same paper noted the men marrying widows because they were too lazy to court.  At New Year’s Eve, 1899, posters were advertising a dance just before Valentine’s Day. Algoma’s Dan Tweedale planned to raffle a horse, cutter, and robes. As the Record said, the raffle presented a good chance to win a courting outfit.

Church should be a good place to meet a mate, but not all were of that opinion. A July 1904 Enterprise told readership that English Church officials had different views on courting and courting in churches was getting controversial. Some felt since marriages were made in heaven, courting should be allowed in church? Courting is the gate to marriage as marriage is the gate to heaven.

There were churches that felt to put “Christianity into the congregation” meant courting would follow the right lines. In churches where men sat on one side and women on the other, the segregation stopped courting, prompting the Free and Open Church Association to advocate for greater freedom of sitting in church. When the Record pointed out in 1900 that a huge source a matrimonial difficulty came from a lack of housekeeping knowledge by the wives, the paper didn’t suggest such training as a pre-requisite to courting.

Just as today, young people had things down to a science. Electric lights were coming into being around the turn of 1900, and Algoma was the first Peninsula community to have electric streetlights. A 1903 Record brought up the problems with such lights that young people felt were no good for courting purposes. One young man liked the kerosene lamps his girl took care of. Her family’s piano light had a red shade that softened the light, which was a plus. The girl was thinking ahead when she filled the lamp with just enough fuel to burn to the time her folks went to bed. When the flame dimmed, it was 9:30. The young man was heard to say, “That lamp, controlled by so charming a girl as mine, is a bonanza.”

Kewaunee Farmers and Merchants State Bank used courting in their 1921 ads, saying a fellow’s grandfather went courting on horseback although the fellow’s dad thought a buggy was the height of style in his courting days. The bank went on to say that in 1921, a young man enjoyed taking his sweetheart out in a six-cylinder car while their children – if they married – would likely court behind a cloud bank in “a modern monoplane.” Banking progressed just as courting and in 2022, both are electronic, but forget the monoplane. The bank went on to ask if young men were handling their finances through a modern bank, or the antiquated ways of a grandfather. That question remains 100 years later.

 

Sources: An-An-api sebe: Where is the River?; Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record Herald, Kewaunee Enterprise, Ancestry, Journal of Antiques online, Wikipedia. Postcard is from the Blogger's collection.